Stories

In commercial real estate, it’s easy to get caught up in motion—bigger offices, flashier upgrades, new locations. But movement doesn’t always mean progress. Sometimes the smartest step forward is staying right where you are.What renewals really say
when a tenant renews their lease, it signals more than satisfaction. It’s a quiet, confident vote of alignment. It means the space still supports the team, the culture, and the goals. It reflects stability—both in the property and in the relationship behind it.

In commercial real estate, everyone talks about “knowing the market.” But markets are more than numbers. They’re built from streets and skylines, the ebb and flow of traffic, and the character of neighborhoods that shift over time.Knowing vacancy rates is one thing. Knowing why one side of a street leases faster than the other — that’s something different.

When businesses evaluate a space, the focus is often on the obvious: size, finishes, amenities, rent. But one element quietly shapes how a space works—a good “front door.” Visibility can turn a location into more than square footage. It makes it part of the city’s rhythm.Atlanta’s Beltline is proof. This corridor of energy is where runners, cyclists, and neighbors move together in a daily flow. For businesses, opening onto that flow builds something rare: presence. People see you, pass by you, and remember you without effort. Over time, awareness builds naturally.

Long before Atlanta’s Beltilne buzzed with foot traffic and craft cocktails, the building at Inman Alley was doing what great buildings do: getting things done. It started as a cotton warehouse in the 1890s—part of the city’s industrial backbone. Railcars clattered by. Laborers hauled and sorted bales in the heat. Then, in 1941, the Clorox Company made it their fourth production facility in the U.S., manufacturing bleach in the heart of Inman Park. The work changed, but the purpose didn’t. This was a space built for output. For systems. For progress.And now, that same spirit continues. Just with different tools.

When Pollock Commercial opened its doors in 2008, the market was loud and uncertain. But from the start, we chose a different rhythm.We weren’t chasing trends or trying to make noise. We were here to do steady, meaningful work. Work that prioritized trust, listened before leaping, and always looked at the bigger picture.

The first thing built here wasn’t a desk or a wall. It was a buggy.In 1900, a man named William R. Ware opened the Atlanta Spring and Bed Company at 512 Means Street. It was the kind of gritty, hopeful enterprise that defined the era—equal parts ingenuity and elbow grease. Soon after, the Atlanta Buggy Company moved in next door, producing horse-drawn carriages on the very same footprint where teams now hold planning meetings and pitch decks.

Some deals don’t come wrapped in a bow. They come in the form of overgrowth, rusted steel, and forgotten square footage.

East Atlanta Village has long been known for its unique blend of independent businesses, walkability, and neighborhood charm. As development pressures grow, maintaining the integrity of these districts while facilitating real estate transactions requires a deep understanding of the market and community priorities.

In 2013, Dad’s Garage found itself in an uncertain position. After nearly two decades in their original theater in Inman Park, their space was set for demolition to make way for a new development. Suddenly, one of Atlanta’s most beloved comedy institutions was without a home.