Editor’s note: We begin a three-part series on nontraditional living arrangements for Whatcom County residents in a challenging and expensive housing market. We’ll highlight their creative solutions to find a home.
If you find yourself exploring Whatcom County’s backroads, you might come across an unusual gas station off Bay Road northwest of Ferndale. You’d be forgiven for assuming the place to be abandoned — until you notice the adjacent residence, its well-tended garden and perhaps a roaring bonfire in the adjoining courtyard.
That’s because the property isn’t a gas station at all, at least not anymore.
For painter Kelly Hoekema, it’s both a communal home and ongoing project. She didn’t set out to live in such an unusual situation — but breaking into Whatcom County’s increasingly inaccessible housing market required sacrifice, as well as creativity.
The average home price in Bellingham is $650,000, and the average one-bedroom rental is $1,483 a month. At the same time, 18.7% of Bellingham residents live below the poverty line. Finding affordable housing is a challenge for most.
Kelly, 42, purchased the gas station in 2021 with her father, Craig Hoekema, and lifelong friends Ethan Smith and Jake Miller. Between the main residence and shops, the property has 10 bedrooms and four bathrooms shared among seven residents, including Kelly’s father and her 21-year-old son, plus a colony of cats. Rent ranges from $315 to $500, just enough to cover the mortgage and fund much-needed repairs.
“All of us are weird hermits and we’re all semi-feral,” Kelly said with a laugh. But jokes aside, “We really are kind of lone-wolf people that found each other — and it works.”
Purchasing the property
Kelly describes herself as “salt of the earth” and never pictured owning a home. But when her grandfather died, her father shared a portion of his inheritance and the duo invested it. At the same time, Kelly started a new, better-paying job as a compliance officer with Bank of the Pacific.
Soon Kelly and her father had enough for a combined down payment — but the real estate market wasn’t easy to break into. “We looked at a few places in Bellingham, but everything just was selling immediately,” she said. “And, I mean, these are piece-of-crap houses … I’m like, I have two kids, cats, and I want to do my art.”
After fruitless searching, Kelly’s real estate agent, Jacob VanderHeiden, suggested an unusual alternative: a 1930s-era property in Ferndale. It functioned as a gas station until the ‘70s, even including structures for a private residence, mechanic shop and multiple sheds.
“[VanderHeiden] was like, ‘So I know this is further out than what you were looking for, but you have a creative mind, and I think you could do something with this space that no one else could,” Kelly said.
But the property was a mess, with the main residence spray-painted white and littered with drug paraphernalia. The gas station itself had structural integrity issues and a questionable history, having burned down multiple times in the 20th century. None of the structures were insulated, and even now, residents are “constantly” digging up old oil cans.
Despite these problems, the Hoekemas fell in love with the property — although they knew they’d need help making it liveable. Kelly thought of two lifelong friends: Smith, who “did everything” for her when she lost mobility during cancer treatment, as well as Miller, to whom she made a childhood promise to look after.
“I take those promises very seriously. And this was our opportunity,” Kelly said. After explaining the situation to Miller and Smith, she offered to put them on the mortgage. “They all came, they looked at it and we made an offer. We actually got it.”
Current living situation
Kelly now shares the main residence with her partner, Tristan Emmerick, 39, and her son, Lars Nielsen, 21. Craig, Miller and Smith live in the shop behind the gas station, which Kelly said is still very much a work in progress. Mike Lahr (nicknamed “Mustang Mike”) occupies the mechanic shop, and Craig lives in a backyard shed he and Kelly converted into an ADU. Another roommate, Ty Rindahl, lives in the basement of the main residence and is occasionally joined by his partner, Brit Day, and their three kids.
After three years of renovations, their home is still a work in progress — but certain areas, namely the main residence, are unrecognizable. Given its dusty reddish-pink walls, overflowing bookshelves and cushy seating, Kelly’s living room is best described as cozy. The seafoam-green kitchen feels almost nostalgic, with vintage cookbooks and childhood photos on prominent display. Novelty cake molds and Kelly’s handmade stained glass panels line the walls. Delightfully, the bathroom is Dolly Parton-themed.
These whimsical elements are contrasted by darker details like gothic candles and skulls. Kelly’s retro, occult-inspired paintings hang throughout the house, portraying subjects from multi-eyed unicorns to teeth-baring, hyper-realistic CareBears and a statue of Baphomet. The first-floor hallway is reminiscent of a gothic castle, painted deep red and lined with vintage photos.
The property’s other structures, however, are less finished. Kelly knows it can be “hard living” — especially for Miller and Smith. Their dwelling is the least structurally sound; before replacing the shop’s roof, Kelly recalls a time when it “literally snowed in their living room.”
But Miller and Smith grin and bear it, leveraging the cheap rent to focus on creative pursuits. Miller even left a high-paying management job in Seattle to undertake the project: “Being willing to sacrifice living in rough situations to be able to do your art, I think, says a lot about a person’s character and what they’re willing to do for their medium, and themselves.”
Each resident works in a similarly counterculture, occult-inspired vein: Emmerick is a bookbinder, Kelly is a painter and Miller makes art from bones. Mustang Mike, appropriately, creates what Kelly described as “weird car art” and decorated the garage space with murals.
Challenges and investments
Kelly said conversations with roommates have positively influenced her sense of purpose and helped her own art “come to life.” The group has a strong rapport, easily alternating between playful teasing and deeper, more philosophical conversations. Kelly described their dynamic as “razzing each other and pushing each other” — and in her view, “I think that’s what this place is meant to be.”
Residents range in age from 21 to 66, though most fall within the 35–40 range, and factors like generational differences do cause tension. But Emmerick said the house is functional because, for the most part, residents “put their ego aside” and look at the big picture. “You can’t get upset about a coffee cup going missing,” he said. “That’s not the point of this.”
The property isn’t just an experiment in communal living and art-making: For Kelly and Craig, it’s also an investment in generational wealth. Kelly had a difficult young adulthood and was homeless while graduating high school. Now, she’s dedicated to ensuring her children won’t face similar obstacles.
“I’ve done everything I can to give my kids the opposite of [struggle],” Kelly said, noting the disconnect between her and Nielsen’s life experiences is one of the biggest tension points. “They take a lot, I think, for granted. But at the same time, it’s like … dude, I can get upset at the attitude or I can say, ‘Oh, this is actually what I worked for — so, have fun!’”
Kelly knows transition is inherent to group living, and people’s plans and paths change. Still, she can envision a future in which she moves into Craig’s ADU and her children take over the main residence with their own families. She also rests easy knowing property ownership is a definite — albeit untraditional — investment for Smith and Miller.
“I would say if you’re gonna do anything, do it with intention — but not intention for yourself. Intention for the people that you love,” Kelly said. A word of warning, though: “If you don’t love those people, don’t get on a mortgage with them.”
To deal with rising housing costs, some Bellingham and Whatcom County residents resort to untraditional living arrangements. If you or someone you know has a similar story, email cocoalaney@cascadiadaily.com.
Cocoa Laney is CDN’s lifestyle editor; reach her at cocoalaney@cascadiadaily.com; 360-922-3090 ext. 128.
