WILDWOODS – When Buck Russom walks up the porch steps of his Wildwood Crest cottage, he’s not just coming home—he’s walking into a memory. Built in 1927 and bought by his father in 1940, it’s a home that’s been with Buck every summer since childhood. It’s a home that housed Navy soldiers during World War II. And now, it’s a home that remains standing even as its neighbors are knocked down. The Wildwoods are changing quickly, and once the dust settles, some are worried that its old charm will be left behind.
“We’re going through some changes on the island. And some of those changes, unfortunately, involved taking homes like this, tearing them down, and replacing them,” Buck lamented. “We’ve already had three properties on our street alone that have been torn down this year. Torn down and replaced with two three-story houses—the other is a two-story behemoth.”
And Buck’s street is not alone. In recent years, the Wildwoods have seen a dramatic surge in property value, fueled by a mutually reinforcing cycle of tourism and new development. Indeed, between January and August in 2024, the Wildwoods brought in over $374 million from tourism revenue alone—a number that surpassed the previous year’s already record-breaking numbers. And with every new wave of vacationers drawn to the Wildwoods’ beaches and funnel cake, another wave of development rolls in, with the arrival of the first Starbucks in Wildwood perhaps a fitting symbol of the change. In turn, average property values across the four Wildwoods, according to Zillow, have swelled from $306,015 in 2017 to $633,501 in 2024—values that have more than doubled in less than a decade.

And the new houses starting to flow into the Wildwoods are reflective of that new wealth. Referred to by many as McMansions, the homes are large and uniform, built with an eye toward modern amenities rather than the modest charm of the original cottages. But the people building and buying them are rarely locals. According to Buck, many of the new buyers are coming from the wealthier parts of the tristate area—North Jersey, New York City—attracted to the shoreline and its promise. Ten years ago, he said, “they sit back and look at their properties and they figure, hey, there’s some bargains to be made down here.” He went on, “They could buy a house for a modest sum, take it, level it, and go up from there.” According to Buck, those houses could now sell for more than $1 million.
Meanwhile, year-round residents face stagnating wages that struggle to keep pace with rising property values, and they’re starting to make up a smaller and smaller portion of their community. In 2000, the Wildwoods had a total population of close to 15,000 people—a number that’s now gone down to nearly 12,000 as of 2024. And as the year-round population shrinks, so does the living memory of the town’s past.
Architecture remembers more than people do.
Before the boardwalk ring toss, before the Starbucks, the Wildwoods were defined by fishing. The first permanent settlement was in North Wildwood, then called Anglesea, which sprang up in the mid-1800s, when the only way onto the island was by boat. When the town was practically wiped off the map by a storm in the 1890s, residents were forced to rebuild. The development of the new small cottages and bungalows reflected the character of those who lived there: the year-round families, fishermen, and tradespeople who made their livelihoods by the sea. By the turn of the century, as railways expanded and word spread that “salt air” cured all, the Wildwoods morphed into a resort destination, complete with new hotels and vacation homes.

That history is inescapable even on a quick walk on the island. Each era left behind its preferred architectural style—Gothic Revival in North Wildwood, Queen Anne and Spanish Revival in the Crest, and a growing number of Victorian homes in between. Taylor Henry, president of the Wildwoods Historical Society, said “There’s definitely a reflection of the vernacular working class history of the Wildwoods in the architecture or even a lack thereof. Whereas there’s a lot of fancy houses that people who were very affluent lived in, there are also very simple and basic small buildings, like the bungalows and the little shacks.”
In an effort to retain this living memory, the Wildwood Historical Society recently merged with the nonprofit Preserving the Wildwoods to launch the Historic Home Recognition Program. The initiative honors homes built before 1951 that have retained their historic appearance, awarding plaques and certificates to homeowners who’ve chosen preservation over replacement. Buck was the first homeowner to be recognized as part of this program, and now chairs the committee.
Of course, recognizing the past doesn’t mean halting change. Though the program celebrates homes built prior to 1951, it was the postwar Doo-Wop era that lit the Wildwoods in its signature neon glow. Even today’s McMansions, unwelcome as they may feel to some, will one day be a record of this moment—an era defined by new money, transience, and reinvention. But it’s crucial that the history of the Wildwoods remains standing. Thus, for Taylor, part of the program’s purpose is “to help people who have old homes, and homes that they want to learn more about, to get them involved in researching and interested in researching the history of their properties.”

But crucially, preservation ensures that the existing community isn’t torn down along with the buildings. Reflecting on a recently demolished home she’d grown up near, Taylor said “I get a little bit sad because—I don’t know. It was just a landmark. It was how I navigated the world spatially.” She went on, “A building can be like a symbol of who lived there, and what happened there. So when that’s gone, it becomes harder and harder to connect with those memories. And all you really have is pictures.” At the Historical Society, Taylor flipped through a book of historical buildings, and recognized one she had seen growing up. She stopped, sitting in the memory.
Over time, those memories can fade—the buildings are the only things left that remember. Taylor added, “It’s the closest we have to a Time Machine. Photos of demolished buildings can spark a feeling of nostalgia for those who remember the buildings, but for those who don’t remember the building or are too young to remember it, the picture is like a mythical thing, like a fairy tale.”
Buck has done everything he can to ensure his house doesn’t become one of those photos. He’s kept the original wood of the home, the original door fixtures, the original radiators. He even continues to trim the same hedges that have framed the door since the 20s. “The house has character,” he said.
“But I’ll tell you what, though, it’s a memory of not only what came before, what’s here now, but what’s here after.”
If you’d like to nominate a historic home or learn more about the program, visit wildwoodhistoricalmuseum.com/historical-recognition-program.