Breaking barriers

Jackie Jacoby moves slowly and deliberately through her apartment with the help of a walker, but because the doors are wide, the cabinets are low and the bathroom is large, she can live there independently.

Jacoby's new home, Kingsley Commons, was built specifically for people with multiple sclerosis. It's the first development of its kind in Minnesota and one of only three in the country.

"You don't know from one day to the next how the disease will affect you," said Jacoby, one of a few Kingsley Common residents who are still ambulatory.

Jacoby, 57, lives with her 23-year-old daughter Andrea, who has epilepsy, in one of the building's two-bedroom apartments. The symptoms of Jacoby's MS have been in remission since July, but she continues to deal with problems caused by previous flare-ups.

Multiple sclerosis is a disease of the central nervous system in which impulses to and from the brain are disrupted, causing a range of symptoms from loss of balance and depression to blindness and paralysis. The disease's progression and symptoms vary from person to person, so the architects who designed this project included a plethora of "universal" design features, which make living areas more accessible to everyone regardless of their abilities.

"The design challenges are pretty high on a project like this," said Kent Simon, vice president of Miller Hanson Partners, the Minneapolis-based architectural firm that designed Kingsley Commons. "[But] there are no clues on the outside that this is a residence hall for MS patients."

About 9,000 people in Minnesota and western Wisconsin -- and 400,000 nationwide -- have MS, and Kingsley Commons is an alternative to nursing-home care for many, regardless of their age, said Maureen Reeder, president of the Minnesota Chapter of the National MS Society.

"Younger people with MS ... were ending up in nursing homes," she said. "It wasn't appropriate for them. It wasn't the life that they deserved."

The building's 25 one- and two-bedroom apartments are equipped with roll-under countertops for wheelchairs and scooters, easy-to-grab pullout shelves and accessible low cabinets in the bathrooms and kitchens. The bathrooms have safety bars and roll-in showers with folding seats that make it possible for residents to bathe without an attendant. Architects also allotted more space than usual to the bathroom, bedroom and entryway -- areas where maneuverability is especially important for residents who use a walker or wheelchair.

Each apartment also has its own heating and cooling system, a feature Jacoby said is especially important because heat and cold can exacerbate the symptoms of MS.

"They thought of everything," she said.

Conserving physical energy

The apartment complex, in north Minneapolis near Shingle Creek, was also developed for those who earn less than Hennepin County's mean income level and who want to live independently, a difficult prospect for many MS patients.

Fatigue is a common symptom of MS, and the universal features allow residents to expend less energy as they go about daily activities, such as showering and fixing meals.

"One of the things you have to do with MS is conserve your energy," said Jacoby. "Once it's gone, it takes a long time to recoup."

The building also has a number of community spaces, including a sitting room, a laundry room with a place to wash a wheelchair, and a "spa" with a side-entry tub and a sink for washing hair. Adding these elements to individual rooms would have been too costly, said architect Kent Simon, and they allow for more interaction between people.

The $2.9 million project was financed by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, the Minnesota Chapter of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, the city of Minneapolis, Hennepin County and the Powderhorn Community Council. Successful applicants began moving into the building in late May.

Demand for such need-specific, low-income housing is high, said Deb Lande of CommonBond Communities, the nonprofit developer that manages Kingsley Commons. The 25 apartments drew more than 150 applications.

While the building is meant to facilitate independent living, it also includes a "little bit of extra help" for those who need it, said Lande. Alliance Health Care and a social worker employed by CommonBond have offices on the ground floor and provide medical and living services, with fees based on income. Services include cleaning, meal preparation and help getting out of bed in the morning.

Jacoby said one of the best things about living in Kingsley Commons is the sense of community it has created among its residents, who have common needs and challenges.

"We have our own individual apartments, but we're a family," she said.

"There is a bond between people with MS, and I see this in the new Kingsley Commons," said Louann Replogle, a Powderhorn Community Council board member who has had MS for almost 30 years and helped developed the Kingsley Commons idea over the past two decades. "People are so happy to be with other people with the disease ... to be able to have other people around them that really understand."

Beaming with pride

Because Kingsley Commons has seven two-bedroom apartments, residents are able to live with family members or partners who do not have MS.

Before Jacoby, who is unemployed, moved to Kingsley Commons she was tired, isolated and depressed. She lived on a second floor without access to an elevator and rarely saw people other than her family.

"She was really ill," said daughter Andrea. "She just couldn't get up."

Now, Jacoby beams with pride in her new home. The third person to turn in an application for a Kingsley Commons apartment, she arranges an ice cream social for her neighbors every month.

On Thursdays, Jacoby's children and grandchildren who live nearby come to visit. On a bright day this summer, she played outside with her 10-month-old granddaughter Madaline and son Ben, 25. Madaline sat on Jacoby's walker as she strolled around, and Lafaya Renfroe, an Alliance employee, came out to watch.

Nearby, a few residents in wheelchairs and scooters sat together. One of them, Brenda Blewett, said she would prefer to live in her own home, but she's glad she has neighbors who understand what she's going through.

"It's getting easier," Blewett said. "I like having contact with other people."

Send comments to jbuchta@startribune.com.