There’s a question I asked recently in a local Amesbury Facebook group. Nothing fancy. Just a simple prompt asking parents what small, unexpected things they appreciate about raising their kids here.
I expected a handful of replies. What came back instead was a reminder of why this town leaves such a mark on people.
I grew up in Amesbury. I left for a while, lived elsewhere, gained perspective, and eventually found my way back. Coming back didn’t happen right away. It happened after I had a son, when all the things that once felt old suddenly felt like they were worth making new again. What mattered shifted quickly. Moving back wasn’t about nostalgia. It was about choosing a place that still understands how important community is, especially for kids.
Even with great memories of growing up here, you never really know what the day to day feels like for kids growing up here in real time, until you’re living it again as a parent. That’s part of why I asked the question. I wanted to hear from families raising kids here now at all different ages. I wanted to know if that continuity of support for the town’s youth was still present.
Reading through the responses, one theme came up again and again. Kids here still have room to move.
They walk. They ride bikes. They roam downtown. They gather in parks and playgrounds and library spaces that don’t require a purchase or a reservation. Parents talked about the freedom their kids have to move through town safely, and the quiet confidence that comes with knowing the community is watching out for them.
That was my childhood too.
I walked to school across town. I walked home. I grabbed my skateboard and crossed town to the skatepark. I did all of it without a smartphone, without tracking apps, without constant check ins. The town itself felt like the safety net. People noticed. People knew who belonged where. Amesbury watched out for its kids then, and from everything I’m seeing, it still does.
The Millyard came up more than once. It always does. It was a gathering place when I was a kid, and it still is. A place where kids from different backgrounds, different neighborhoods, and different age groups all found their way together. It wasn’t curated. It wasn’t organized. It just worked. You showed up, and other kids were there. It was the real life group chat.
What stood out most in the responses wasn’t just nostalgia. It was continuity.
Parents talked about sidewalks and walkability. About kids biking into town like it’s the most natural thing in the world. About libraries that feel like a second home. About playgrounds that were built, rebuilt, and cared for by families who wanted something better not just for their own kids, but for the ones who would come after.
That’s the part that matters.
Amesbury doesn’t always announce itself with a flyer. A lot of what happens here, just happens. Someone gives a heads up. Someone shows up. Someone remembers what it was like to be a kid here and quietly makes sure that feeling stays alive.
When people ask what makes a town good for families, they usually start with schools or crime rate. Those things matter. But what shapes childhood lives are the day to day moments. The walk home. The park you end up at without planning. The spot that lets you hangout indoors during the winter for hours. The freedom to move through your town and feel like you belong there.
Amesbury still offers that.
I see it now not just as someone who grew up here, but as someone who chose to come back after becoming a parent. And as someone who gets to help other families find their way here too.
Some towns grow. Some towns change. The special ones hold onto the things that matter.
Amesbury is still a place for the kids.
If you're looking for a place to land. I would love to help. Amesbury could be the spot.
Reach out anytime,
Reach out anytime,
Steve | 978.289.2465
