Dongan Hills, S.I./Living In - A Layer Cake, Topographically and Otherwise THE idea that there could be mean streets on the Upper East Side may seem, to some New Yorkers, akin to the suggestion that alligators swim in the sewers. But crime was in fact a problem on the streets of Yorkville in the early 1960s, according to Steven Zboinski, whose parents would whisk him away each summer to the sparsely settled and comparatively wholesome East Shore of Staten Island. "It was to make sure you were being brought up the right way," he said. Not that the area, which arcs below the Verrazano Bridge, was perfect. Pollution forced the closure of some beaches over the years, and a boardwalk along the shore fell apart. All the same, young Steven became forever charmed by its hushed streets, carefree vibe and sea air. So it was obvious where he would move, once old enough to make his own decisions: the East Shore, and in particular Dongan Hills, a two-and-a-half-square-mile enclave (population about 25,000) that sweeps from Lower New York Bay to the base of Todt Hill. His timing has shown him to be in sync with the currents of real estate change. Over the last few decades, the waterside section of Dongan Hills, where Mr. Zboinski so often spent July as a child, has transitioned from a second-home getaway to a year-round community. So he was far from the only new arrival in 1989, when he bought a two-bedroom vinyl-sided wood-frame house in an area where most properties are separated by narrow alleys. The home, which cost him $125,000, was appraised in 2007 for $410,000, though the recession has since further changed things, with the value dropping to $265,000 last year. Even so, it is clear to Mr. Zboinski, who works as a building painter for the College of Staten Island, that Dongan Hills is at the moment enjoying an upswing. City projects to revitalize the beach area and the adjacent wetlands will continue to improve property values, said Mr. Zboinski, who believes that magical feeling the landscape stirred in him as a child can be recaptured. "It feels great, fabulous to see it all come back," he said. Longtime ties to the community have also bred loyalty in Jerry Ruggiero, a retired electrician for the Staten Island Railway who lives in a 1960s brick ranch, near the train station to which he used to walk to work. Mr. Ruggiero, the second person ever to own his three-bedroom property, paid $60,000 for it in 1981 and estimates it could sell for $400,000 today. Yet if his family history is any indication, he's not going anywhere. His mother and father live one street over, on the block where both grew up. Suggesting the gentleness of the ebbs and flows of life here, the agenda of the 40-member Dongan Hills United Civic Association, of which Mr. Ruggiero is president, is usually light. There are some worries about wild turkeys on lawns; potholes are also discussed. And heavy traffic on the commercial arteries of Richmond Road and Hylan Boulevard persistently generates complaints. But residents say the traffic has been a nuisance since 1964, when the Verrazano opened, uniting Staten Island and Brooklyn. Still, the group didn't oppose the Muslim American Society of Staten Island when it sought to open a mosque in a former Hindu temple on Burgher Avenue, after it was fiercely rebuffed next door in Midland Beach. Dongan Hills may be set in its ways, Mr. Ruggiero said, but that doesn't mean new faces aren't welcome. Dongan Hills has three sections, layered and stacked in a kind of cake. Attention-seeking multimillion-dollar mansions are found in the icing, in the Dongan Hills Colony, which is terraced above Richmond Road. But tucked amid these stucco-sided houses with bulging bay windows are more modest two-families, like the high ranch "regular house" that belongs to Carol Bruzzese, who lives three blocks from where she grew up. She said she had been "determined to stay in the neighborhood," which offers views of the Manhattan skyline. There are two-family homes throughout Dongan Hills, but absentee landlords do not predominate, according to census figures; two-thirds of all residents own their homes. In the middle layer, in the zone between Richmond and Hylan, streets like North Railroad Avenue are shaded by trees whose limbs meet in the middle. New houses, invariably bigger than their predecessors, turn up here, too. On Alter Avenue, a row of semidetached two-families, with porticos perched on tall columns, stare down at 1920s colonials. The bottom layer stretches south of Hylan to Father Capodanno Boulevard, or "Father Cap," named for a Navy chaplain from Staten Island who died in the Vietnam War. Though closest to the beach, this area has the most affordable real estate: mostly peak-roofed one-story bungalows abutting lush wetlands. The lower values could reflect the fact that some of this area sits below sea level, so that flooding has been a problem. But the city and state have undertaken an ambitious effort, buying up undeveloped parcels in hopes of keeping them wild. The idea is that by replanting trees and keeping areas unpaved, they can provide a way to soak up rainwater and keep it from pooling on roads.