The Five Love Languages of Critical Repair: Gordon's Story

The house was never supposed to be here.

Built in 1960, it originally stood several streets away from the lot where it sits today. Back then, much of the area Gordon Withers knew was still woods and open land.

"We used to hunt over there," Gordon said.

Then development came.

A developer wanted the land where Gordon's family lived, so his father made a deal. If he could find another lot nearby, they would move a house instead of watching one get torn down.

The house he chose belonged to a neighbor. By then, most of the neighborhood had already left.

"They were just gonna tear it down," Gordon said.

So his father, a landscaper, chose this lot and graded the yard himself. In 1983, the house was relocated to Grier Heights and expanded with two additional rooms.

Gordon grew up surrounded by relatives, cookouts, and birthday celebrations that spilled across the yard.

"My daddy's birthday," he said. "It'd be jumping over here."

At 18, Gordon joined the Marines. His father did not initially want him to go. But when Gordon graduated from Parris Island, his father was there.

"That's the proudest I've ever seen him," Gordon said.

"Oorah," he adds, instinctively.

Gordon had intended to stay longer. His father's illness changed that plan. 

Years passed. Charlotte changed around him. The woods became medical offices and development. The people who filled the yard for cookouts and birthdays became memories instead of visitors.

Gordon stayed.

He kept doing what he had watched his father do. He cleaned the gutters. Cut the grass. Painted. Repaired. Maintained the place.

When Gordon talks about that time, he is also talking about a different version of himself. A time before his hip replacement. Before the cane. Before the walker.

As his mobility changed, the work changed too. Small repairs became harder. Bigger ones started waiting.

Then Hurricane Helene sent a tree into his backyard.

"It all started with that tree," Gordon said.

Because the tree had not fallen directly onto the house, his insurance would not cover its removal. It remained in the yard, too large for Gordon to manage on his own.

Through conversations with the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs and his insurance company, Gordon was referred to Rebuilding Together of Greater Charlotte. He applied. He waited.

When the project was approved, the home assessment revealed the full scale of what the house needed. The storm had not created the problems inside the home. It exposed how much Gordon had already been carrying by himself.

The roof had reached the end of its life. Windows no longer sealed properly. Water damage had spread through parts of the house. Plumbing fixtures had worn down. Major systems had begun to fail.

To stabilize and preserve the home long term, the work would include a new roof, windows, HVAC system, plumbing repairs, flooring, crawlspace improvements, structural porch repairs, accessibility modifications, interior repairs, tree removal, and safety upgrades throughout the property.

The house had been moved once so it would not disappear. Now, decades later, it needed help standing still.

On June 18th and 19th, volunteers from Coca-Cola Consolidated, the Charlotte Hornets, and Rebuilding Together of Greater Charlotte showed up to begin work on his home.

What happened over those two days set the stage for more extensive repairs by contractors and became part of Gordon’s story.

Love, spoken in five languages.

Words of Affirmation

Gordon was careful at first about what he asked for. He downplayed the extent of what the house needed. He worried about asking for too much.

"I'm a man. I was a Marine," he said. "You got people doing stuff for you… that ain't how we do."

For years, Gordon had been the one who handled things. Even as his mobility changed, that understanding of himself had not. 

"I had to swallow that pride," he said. "But I need everything they're gonna do."

For Gordon, saying what he needed was its own act of courage.

Quality Time

For two days, the house was full again.

They stayed. They worked. They talked with Gordon. They listened. They laughed with him.

Having people show up and stay, not just to fix things but to be present with him, was its own kind of repair.

"I am very pleased with what I see," Gordon said.

Time is easy to count in volunteer hours. Its meaning is harder to measure.

Physical Touch

Hard work done together creates its own kind of closeness.

Hands lifted furniture. Carried materials. Tore out what no longer served. Laid new flooring. Steadied railings. Passed tools. The work required people to pay attention not only to the house but to each other.

Sometimes care looks exactly that ordinary. Someone notices. Someone stops. Someone helps.

Acts of Service

Remember the tree?

By the end of those two days, it was gone. 

Members of Coca-Cola Consolidated’s Rapid Response Team brought the skills and equipment to remove it.

“Now I’ll be able to sit on my porch and enjoy my backyard again,” Gordon said.

The backyard was Gordon’s again.

Receiving Gifts

Gordon received more than one kind of gift. 

Time. Presence. Labor. Commitment. Relief. 

None of it gave Gordon a new home. It helped preserve the one he already owned.

The one still standing in Grier Heights for more than four decades.

“My dad left this house here for me,” Gordon said.

It is still here.

So is Gordon.

Both safer.

Rebuilding Together of Greater Charlotte is grateful to Coca-Cola Consolidated and the Charlotte Hornets for their partnership and $50,000 investment in Gordon's home and in the preservation of affordable homeownership across Greater Charlotte.