For Sale by Owner
Sometimes you find your home. Other times your home finds you
By Leslie Wylie
Photography by Shannon Stanfield
After deciding to make the move from Madison, Wis., to fill a position at the University of Tennessee, Dr. Ed Cortes spent hours combing the downtown area for his new home. A real estate agent lined up multiple lofts and condos for him to look at, but none of them felt quite right. Just in time, though, one “For Sale by Owner” sign caught his attention.
It was on the door of a condo in Kendrick Place, a gated residential complex on Union Avenue that's all red brick and wrought iron and authentic historic charm. Built in 1917 and last renovated in preparation for the 1982 World's Fair, the townhouse-style buildings look as though they were plucked from an enchanting Notting Hill sidestreet and repositioned in downtown Knoxville. Seeing them, Cortes instinctively knew that he'd found his new home.
The caveat? He had a plane to catch at 3 in the afternoon, and it was already mid-morning. Undeterred, Cortes called his real estate agent and implored her to see what she could do, and a last-minute tour was arranged.
“I only had to walk in the front door to fall in love with the place,” Cortes recalls, sitting on a loveseat in his living room. “The paperwork was done in an hour.” In a similar twist of fate, his residence in Madison sold overnight.
Not quite two years later, it's apparent that Cortes made the right decision. He seems thrilled with his new job as director of UT's School of Information Sciences—“It's a highly respected program, and I really enjoy having the privilege of leading such a strong, talented faculty,” he says—and he has since made his new residence into a home.
Evidence of Cortes' colorful personality is everywhere, from the downstairs entertainment center where he likes to kick back and watch old movies to the eclectic décor that is the pervasive theme of every room. Having been a collector of art for the past 30 years, there's something aesthetically intriguing to look at around every corner, and relics from his international travels are threaded throughout as well. The staircase leading up to the master and guest bedrooms, for instance, is reserved for photography and artifacts from Africa.
Cortes is especially fond of the courtyard alleyway that runs behind the condos, called “the mews” for its British counterpart. It functions as a kind of shared back patio, where residents can cultivate individual-sized herb gardens, exchange conversation with their neighbors or simply sit and enjoy a pleasant glass of wine after work.
Relatively speaking, the condo isn't that big—life at Kendrick Place is better suited for an individual or a couple than for a growing family—but Cortes says that, after downsizing from a larger residence in Madison, he appreciates the intimate living quarters. “I use all the rooms of the house,” he explains, pointing out the upstairs bedrooms, both of which overlook the dining room, as an example. “I use one room for dressing and one for sleeping.” Purchasing a modest-sized home downtown also made it easier for Cortes to justify keeping a cabin in Waynesville, N.C. Photos of the cabin, with its vast wraparound porch and the cloud-shrouded vistas, hang in the stairway leading downstairs. These days, Cortes spends his weekends there, researching and writing in the quiet sanctuary the mountains provide.
But while Cortes enjoys his rural retreat, he takes pleasure in urban life as well. “It's been terrific,” he says of his decision to live in the center city. “I didn't even consider living anywhere other than downtown.”
For one thing, since his car spends most of the working week inside the nearby Locust Street Garage, he never has to worry about parking: “I can jump on a trolley and be at my office in the Communications Building in a couple of minutes,” he says. Cortes savors being so close to downtown restaurants (Chesapeake's, the seafood eatery where he enjoys entertaining friends and business associates, is nearly next door to his condominium) and amenities like the Tennessee Theatre. As for the naysayers who argue that downtown still doesn't have residential necessities, like a grocery store, Cortes notes that there's a Kroger just two miles away. “Out west, you might have to drive three or four miles to get to a grocery store,” he says.
As a tenured university official, Cortes has no intentions of leaving anytime soon. For now, you could say, life has him exactly where it wants him.
