On a recent afternoon, a olive-green Perley Thomas streetcar rolled into the airy Carrollton Avenue Regional Transit Authority barn and onto the barn’s fix-it tracks, which have no floor beneath them. Mechanics working from a basement pit can stand beneath the fix-it tracks and adjust a car’s brake shoes or work on its undercarriage. On the other side of the barn, teams of technicians and craftsmen remodel and repair the historic cars. “We try to keep everything as it was,” said a man who had just clocked off his shift at the barn.

But the teams at the Carrollton facility do more than quick fixes: they can build entire streetcars from scratch, using mahogany seats and brass handles and century-old specifications.

There’s a timeless, do-everything-here quality to Carrollton, which was its own town before it was annexed by New Orleans 140 years ago. Residents here say that they can run errands, eat almost any kind of cuisine, get their eyes checked or file their taxes, all within a few blocks of the streetcar tracks and Carrollton Avenue, the area’s main artery. Or they can visit generations of family in the local graveyard and see a music show at the Maple Leaf, the longest-running Uptown music club.

Kendrick Johnson, 5, is content to spend his entire day here. Every weekday, when the final bell rings at Carrollton’s St. Joan of Arc School, Kendrick begs his mom, Patrice Duncan, to take him to the other end of Carrollton so that he can burn off some energy at the Palmer Park playground. Once he enters the park, he becomes a cartoon character of sorts, creating his own sound effects as he scales the slide and runs circles around obstacles on his way to the swingset.

Irene Mackenroth, 77, has done taxes in the neighborhood for roughly 35 years but she sees herself as a Carrollton caretaker of sorts and checks in with her clients far more than required by what she calls the Infernal Revenue Service.

“When the cancer came and then came back, I told God, ‘Take care of my old people,” said Mackenroth. Naturally, she beat the cancer and was soon back buzzing amid her piles of files in her longtime Econotax office, which sits on Carrollton’s “restaurant row”, a few blocks away from the streetcar barn.

Over the years, the eateries have changed hands, Mackenroth said, but very little else has changed since she bought the building in the early 1980s, she said. “It’s the same,” she said.

In 1999, Hussain Al Sherees, 45, remembers driving around town, trying to figure out where he should create Lebanon Cafe. He choose his spot on Carrollton and Jeannette Street because he loved the trees, the big houses and the broad sidewalks that would allow al fresco dining, like the cafes he grew up with in Iraq. Soon he hired an artist to paint a mural on one wall depicting the Baghdad he remembers. (He didn’t name it the Baghdad Cafe both for political reasons and because people didn’t seem as familiar with Iraqi cuisine as they were with Lebanese food, he said.)

From morning to night, Al Sherees revels in the neighborhood’s beauty. He arrives and preps for the day as the early streetcars hum and there’s a dappled sunlight on the street, filtered through its live-oak canopy. By late morning, he’s gearing up for lunchtime, with his sidewalk tables filling first on nice-weather days. Then, in early evening, he gets a burst of to-go orders from Carrollton neighbors who call him on their way home from work, most often choosing lamb chops or chicken schawarma, he said. Later, he’ll see students from nearby Tulane and Loyola universities, who often eat and then head to Oak Street for a night out.

For 40 years, students have flocked to the Maple Leaf Bar on Oak to seezydeco, brass bands, and musical icons like piano player James Booker, a teenage Trombone Shorty, Rockin’ Dopsie, Walter “Wolfman” Washington, the Iguanas, and the Rebirth Brass Band, which has held down a Tuesday-night spot at the Maple Leaf for a quarter-century, starting with a $3 cover charge, said owner Hank Staples.

Over the years, along with its regulars, the club has attracted Bruce Springstein, Beyonce, and Mariah Carey to the Oak Street club, which is lined with pressed-tin walls made one block away on Plum Street.

The Pigeontown Steppers social aid and pleasure club follows the Carrollton streetcar line for part of its annual second-line parade, held every year on Easter Sunday. “We try to cover the whole Carrollton neighborhood,” said club president Joe Henry, who always creates a route that spans the entire neighborhood, including Hollygrove, Gert Town, and Henry’s home, known as both Pigeontown and Pensiontown.

The Pigeontown Steppers change their parade route from year to year. But one stop stays the same: the Green Street Cemetery. “We come here to pay tribute to people we’ve lost,” said Henry. “It’s mandatory that we stop here.”

Until it filled up, Green Street was the graveyard for the Carrollton neighborhood, he said. And in 2012, his grandmother, Edna Henry, was laid to rest here in a family plot above other family members who died before her. Ms. Edna, a well-known cook, served as his club’s queen for several years running and he served as her chief food taster. When his time comes, he’d like to stay here at home in the Carrollton neighborhood, with her. “This is where I want to be buried,” Henry said. “I want our second line to stop here and see me too.”