Kingsport Checks So Many Boxes

One of the questions I’m asked most often is, “Why Kingsport?”

Many newcomers are drawn to the mountain vistas of Northeast Tennessee. Most are “escaping” a place that, for one reason or another, no longer feels like home.

Yesterday, I met a couple from Colorado Springs—a city I’ve always considered idyllic. The grass is always greener, right? But they saw it differently.

As they shared their story, I listened. State and local laws no longer align with their convictions. Costs have soared. Homeless hot spots now deter them from visiting favorite stores and restaurants. The legalization of marijuana, they said, brought unintended consequences. Gang activity is visible, crime is rising, and they simply don’t feel safe anymore. These aren’t my words, but theirs. Layer upon layer, those changes convinced them to look elsewhere.

Their first instinct was to “find acreage and escape.” They began exploring parts of Northeast Tennessee that sit 25 to 50 minutes from any substantial town. But as we talked, I could sense their hesitation—how rural is too rural? They worried about social isolation, access to medical care, and everyday convenience.

I encouraged them to make a personal scorecard. There’s no right answer—only your right answer. Where’s my doctor? My dentist? My pharmacy? Where will I buy groceries or find local restaurants? Do they deliver? Where’s my church? My home improvement store? How much do I rely on online shopping and delivery services like Instacart, DoorDash, or Uber Eats?

They spoke fondly of walking—of sidewalks and trails that connected neighborhoods back home. So, I asked: “Will you need to drive somewhere just to take a walk, or can you step outside your front door and go?”

Then there’s the emergency question: If you dial 9-1-1, who’s coming? A professional or a volunteer? And how far is it to a full-service hospital? I told them about a couple who moved to a remote mountain lake in our region for their dream cabin. On moving day, the husband suffered cardiac arrest. It took forty-five minutes for responders to arrive. The wife begged the 9-1-1 operator to stay on the line—but they couldn’t. Overwhelmed and heartbroken, they sold the home and returned to Florida. That’s why the checklist matters.

I reminded the Colorado couple that Kingsport—at about 57,000 residents—is big enough to meet daily needs yet small enough to avoid the headaches of urban sprawl. It’s a far cry from Colorado Springs’ 495,000 people. Go too small, and you lose the amenities you depend on. Go too big, and you invite the very problems you’re trying to leave behind.

And growth rate matters. Kingsport’s population has increased about 7.5 percent per decade—steady, sustainable, and just right. Grow much faster, and you’ll soon be complaining about traffic.

Here, you get both sides of the balance sheet: a city with sidewalks, trails, and professional emergency services, yet still rooted in neighborliness and simplicity. It’s surrounded by thousands of acres of national forests, state and city parks. In short, do you want to live in the mountains or conveniently near the mountains without giving up everyday convenience?

Parts of Kingsport are twenty minutes from downtown, about as close to Johnson City or Bristol as they are their own city center. You can live in Kingsport and enjoy everything the region offers without sacrificing safety or convenience.

We locals sometimes grumble about what we don’t have and overlook what we do. It often takes newcomers to remind us how fortunate we are. I’m grateful I get to see my hometown through their eyes—and I wish everyone could.

They see a place that’s lush, green, friendly, convenient, safe, and affordable—a community with a low risk of losing everything to wildfire, tornado, or hurricane. Those threats rarely cross our minds, but for them, skyrocketing insurance rates are a constant reminder.

Maybe we should all make our own checklist—and when we do, we might discover that Kingsport checks more boxes than we realize.

And let’s remember that newcomers to Northeast Tennessee are moving here because they’ve carefully sought out our lifestyle, not because they’re trying to change it. It reminds them of how their previous place used to be, and they’ll work with renewed vigor to ensure their new home doesn’t follow a similar path.

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