Relative Comfort

Her friends aren't sure what to make of the neighborhood at first, she says, but they keep coming back.

The Tolsons

AS THEY GATHER FOR POP-POP'S BIRTHDAY DINNER, the Tolson family tunes up like an orchestra seasoned by years of performance. Music from the kitchen swells as mothers and daughters wash vegetables and clatter pots. At the grill, where husbands and sons flip hamburgers, there's a steady flow of wisecracks. And from the hot tub on the deck come the high-pitched squeals of grandchildren.

Gerry Tolson, tall, handsome and newly 64, listens to the cacophony around him with amusement and pride. This richly textured soundtrack accompanies life as he and his wife, Diane, began crafting it here 37 years ago. They never guessed it would follow them into retirement.

When they moved to the then-new Columbia community of Oakland Mills, the Tolsons were the first African Americans on Pamplona Road. They settled into a five-bedroom house, raised a small village of children and launched them into the world beyond their idyllic suburbs.

Now, to everyone's surprise, the natives have returned. Sons Todd and Evan bought houses on each side of their parents' home. Daughter Patricia bought a house down the block. Son Marc, a mere 10 minutes away, might as well live there. And if Stephanie, recently back from deployment to the Middle East, ever decides to leave the Navy, she might be tempted to return, too.

"The neighbors tease us," says Gerry Tolson. "They say, 'How do you like the empty nest?' I tell them we're working on it."

Some history:

In the summer of 1971, Gerry and Diane Tolson moved from Northeast Washington to the vast construction site that became Columbia, a planned community of about 100,000 known for its good schools and its racially diverse population. Within walking distance of the elementary, middle and high schools, Pamplona Road eventually attracted 21 families with 61 children under age 18. It was the sort of place, recalls neighbor Judy Pittman, where grown-ups played volleyball with one another after the kids went to bed.

The Tolsons, who were then 27, brought sons Todd, Marc and Evan, all under 6, as well as Diane's twin siblings, 15. Several years later, the couple adopted daughters Patricia and Stephanie.

Gerry spent his career with IBM, eventually retiring from a division that was bought by Lockheed Martin Corp. He worked as a strategic business and financial planner, while Diane managed their lively household.

As preteens, the children hosted foreign students on Pamplona Road, then tasted life overseas on exchange programs. After high school, the military beckoned. Some entered through service academies or after college; others tried civilian jobs before signing up. Eventually, all five had left behind "their sheltered lifestyle," as 36-year-old Patricia calls it, to serve their country.

As often as possible, the Tolsons would rendezvous around the Christmas holidays, often at Disney World, their favorite vacation spot.

Then a military reassignment, a broken marriage and financial troubles brought three of the children back.

During the last six months of 2004, Todd's family, Patricia's family and Evan lived in their parents' home, a feat made possible by a major addition Gerry and Diane built for their retirement. Suddenly there were nine people in the house and seven cars parked outside.

"We had to set up time and space agreements to allow for privacy and logistics, but it worked out very well," says Gerry. "If we had a problem, we just talked about it, and it was resolved."

"We survived," Patricia says. "We definitely stepped on each other's toes at times, but we worked it out."

"You can see it was such a failure that they decided to scatter to the four winds," Gerry quips.

Instead, Todd and then Evan bought the houses next door -- in a very different real estate market than the one their parents knew. In 1971, the Tolsons paid $41,480 for their house. In 2005, some houses on the block were selling for more than $400,000. Recognizing that they wouldn't have been able to buy a house at that price when they were younger, Gerry and Diane helped Evan and later Patricia buy their houses.

"Diane and I realize parenting is a lifetime endeavor," Gerry says. "Our children are not bashful about asking our advice when they think they need it. It's not overly burdensome, and it's what we signed up for."

Todd, 43, newly retired from the Army, is a financial manager for a missile defense agency. His wife, Bernadette, teaches English at Howard Community College. In 2004, they were poised to buy a house in Northern Virginia, when Todd heard he might be deployed to Iraq. Instead, they moved in with Gerry and Diane and, when Todd got another assignment, bought the house next door. They plan to live there at least until their two children, 15-year-old Todd Jr. and 12-year-old Tyler, graduate from Oakland Mills High School, Todd Sr.'s alma mater. The boys study with some of Todd's former teachers.

So does Patricia's son, 14-year-old Anthony, who attends middle school half a block from their home. Last summer, Patricia, an Army veteran who works as a tele-service representative for the Social Security Administration, became the third family member to buy back into childhood turf. It happened in an unexpected way.

Patricia was considering how to move out of her parents' home, yet stay in the Oakland Mills school district, when Gerry found a community notice about a special housing lottery for moderate-income Howard County residents. The county had purchased and renovated a four-bedroom house on Pamplona Road. Patricia knew the house well. She'd babysat there as a teenager.

On the day of the lottery, the names of 28 applicants were turned in a clear plastic container in the auditorium of Oakland Mills High. County Executive Ken Ulman reached inside and pulled out an envelope.

"When he first read 'Patricia,' I thought 'No way!'" she recalls. "I can't remember if I screamed or not, but my dad's mouth fell to the ground."

The lottery allowed her to purchase a 42 percent share of the house for $200,000. Its estimated worth is $475,000. The rest of the mortgage is held by the Howard County Housing Commission.

The story of Evan Tolson's house purchase is less dramatic. The 39-year-old network engineer, who is single, was already living in a nearby townhouse when the other house next to Gerry and Diane came on the market. For the moment, Evan rents it out and continues to live in his townhouse. He says being a landlord so close to home presents certain problems.

"It's a huge factor to find the 'right people' to become my parent's neighbors," he says. "I am definitely more critical of potential tenants because of my parents and old neighbors who have known the Tolsons for decades."

Todd, Evan and Patricia praise the benefits of living so close to their parents and one another. There is always someone around to keep an eye on the kids, and they've been able to forge close bonds as adults.

They say that any friction -- such as grandchildren getting conflicting orders from well-meaning grown-ups -- occurred when the families were sharing the same house. Now Gerry tells his kids to phone ahead before they knock on the door, the same courtesy he extends to them. But, as the row of recliners around the TV attests, this family is always ready for sleepovers and football moments.

"I'm one of five; Diane's one of three," Gerry notes. "Our parents did everything they could for their families. So, for us, this isn't a strange new way of living. This is natural and expected. But sometimes my friends kid me about it. They'll say, 'You're crazy.' "

"A nice crazy," Patricia says.

Linell Smith is a freelance writer who lives in Baltimore. She can be reached at linellsmith05@yahoo.com. She will be fielding questions and comments about this article Monday at noon athttp://washingtonpost.com/liveonline.