A 15-minute drive from downtown, for example, will take you to the top of Lookout Mountain, and its wonderful free park, Sunset Rock, rich in Civil War history. Hikes in the area lead past rifle pits where Confederate soldiers tracked the movement of Union troops on the ground, and then sent out word via communications stations on nearby Signal Mountain. Now, students from the University of Tennessee and canoodling couples of all sexual orientations come nightly to sit on cliffs and watch the Tennessee River Valley turn shades of red and pink.

After a hectic first week on the job in New Orleans, I felt an immediate sense of relief as I drove into town and immediately onto a tranquil brick road stretch of Chattanooga’s Main Street lit up with strings of white lights. Every corner I turned seemed to have an interesting bar, including the impossibly narrow Pickle Barrel; Stir, where bartenders climb ladders to reach top-shelf liquor; and the Flying Squirrel Bar, an eternal hot spot that has a lit-up wooden boat hanging from its ceiling. One actionable upside of being Gig City is that, according to Kelly Shaughnessy, a real estate agent and model I met, the dating scene is pretty good: “Fiber-optics brought start-ups and start-ups brought hipsters, so everywhere you go are 20- to 35-year-olds who are not married, making apps.”

My first hotel, The Dwell, is the city’s only boutique offering and an Art Deco gem. Seija Ojanpera, the owner, spent four months combing vintage shops, Etsy and eBay to find its period-authentic décor, which, along with the colorful patterned wallpaper, is different in every room. “I think it’s important for Chattanooga to have interesting places to go that don’t feel like airport lounges,” she told me. The breakfast room and bar often contain more locals than visitors. I also stayed in the town’s new Westin (nice enough, but didn’t blow me away) and the Choo Choo Hotel, which is far from luxurious, but worth it just because the check-in desk is in the train’s old terminal waiting room, and the rooms are in actual Pullman train cars. Those not in need of lodging can have a similar experience in the newly opened American Draft, the country’s first pour-your-own-beer bar in a refurbished train car.

Most striking, though, is the city’s civic life. A phrase that comes up constantly is “The Chattanooga Way”: a reference to a cooperative get-it-done spirit that includes infusions of private foundation money making revitalization possible. Public art is impressive and everywhere, from the Sculpture Fields at Montague Park to “The Blue Trees,” an ecologically themed installation consisting of rows of trees that the artist Konstantin Dimopoulos has painted a non-harmful ultramarine blue to bring attention to deforestation. Upon my arrival, Farron Kilburn, who studies inequities in nursing at the University of Tennessee, invited me to a potluck at her home in the city’s hip North Shore. There, I met a chunk of the city’s diverse sector of artists and community activists including Josiah Golson, who just published an illustrated poetry book called “The Souls of Free Folk” (partly inspired by W.E.B. DuBois), and Rondell Crier, an artist and youth mentor, who moved to Chatt from New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, and has never felt compelled to move back.