In the Oliver and Johnston Square neighborhoods of East Baltimore, where drug dealers routinely hide their stashes in abandoned, boarded houses, residents don't want to hear of a federal grant being used to renovate the deteriorating houses.
They have another idea.
"Tear them old houses down and either build them over again or turn the land into a park," said Vermenia Scott of the 1000 block of E. Biddle St., part of the area where the $100 million federal empowerment zone grant will be used.
"That way you get rid of the houses that look terrible and aren't any good, and you get rid of part of the drug problem."
In the parts of East, West and South Baltimore included in the zone, residents yesterday were optimistic the money would not only improve their community but also would make lasting impressions. They envisioned better houses, more jobs, cleaner alleys, less drug activity and better police protection.
Many residents also said the money would be the push needed to spur others in their communities to become active.
"You've got one big problem: You clean it up today, they mess it up tomorrow," said Calvin Weems, who for 14 years has owned a shoe repair shop at Aisquith and Preston streets. "It's some of the people that's the real problem and you've got to change their way of thinking," Mr. Weems said.
As he spoke from his workshop, he pointed out the store window to graffiti-stained walls and littered streets.
"You've got to school the people first," he said.
In the 1100 and 1200 blocks of Biddle St., several of the brick rowhouses are crumbling, and piles of debris fill their rear yards. William Staples said he calls city sanitation crews regularly to remove the debris, but the trash "seems to grow."
"If anywhere in the city needs to be cleaned, it's here. Just look for yourself," he said, standing near a lot strewn with bags of trash, pieces of bedding and furniture. "This is after some of us cleaned it up."
Charles Craig, who has operated Butch and Son's shoeshine shop in the 2000 block of Pennsylvania Ave. for a decade, said the empowerment zone designation has come too late for him. He plans to move the shop to the Inner Harbor next year.
"If you're going to make money, you have to go where the money's at," Mr. Craig, 74, said. "I'm going back downtown because that's where a lot of lawyers, doctors, judges, and other people who don't wear sneakers all the time work."
Mr. Craig, who lives above his shop, also predicted that city officials would have a tough time luring businesses back to the neighborhood, despite the tax breaks allowed in an empowerment zone.
"Around 7 o'clock, if you've made any money through here you'd better lock your door or they will come in here and take it," he said. "I think if they have the cops walking in the neighborhood and talking to people to find out what's going on, it will be safer."
But others, such as Russell Ford, were more optimistic.
At the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Fremont Street, he was sweeping the sidewalk in front of Papa's Place, the lounge he manages. Empowerment zone funds could make a big difference, he said.
"There used to be commerce all up and down this street until about 25 years ago," he said. "The place never recovered from the riots. A lot of these buildings need to be put back in shape and some need to be torn down."
The Rev. William Calhoun, who recently celebrated his 20th anniversary at Trinity Baptist Church on Druid Hill Avenue, was happy the empowerment zone designation was granted before the new, Republican-dominated Congress could interfere.
"Local governments have not been able to produce enough revenue to address the needs of the communities," he said. "Once you have invested in a community, people will respond and take pride in that community. Empowerment zones are necessary to rebuild our cities."
Job creation should be the key to judging the empowerment zone concept, he said. "These old cliches about people not wanting to work are a lie. Of course, there are exceptions to everything. But, in general, that's a lie."
Rev. Calhoun said empowerment zones can succeed where 1960s anti-poverty programs have failed.
"Any such failures were the result of mismanagement, not the recipients," he said. "Let's not give up on meeting the need when all we need is integrity in management. If you don't invest in people now, you will pay for it in the future."
In Fairfield, one of the city's most southern and desolate communities -- where less than 20 families live -- vacant houses and piles of trash are common.
But the main problem for Philip Branco is that the neighborhood has no sidewalks, streets are unpaved and roads are uneven.
When trucks pass his house, it shakes, said Mr. Branco, whose family moved to Fairfield eight years ago.
The trucks travel along dusty streets of Fairfield en route to scrap yards, dumping grounds, and chemical and industrial plants, which nearly outnumber residents.
Fairfield, located on a peninsula surrounded by the Patapsco River and Curtis Bay, once had a population of more than 4,000. But during the last two decades the city enticed residents to move by buying their houses, paying for their relocation and allowing the area to become heavily industrialized.
Earnest Parrott, who owns a salvage yard in Fairfield, said the empowerment zone might stop all the illegal dumping that occurs in the area. "They need to do something out here. They dump right in the middle of the road."
Aside from industry and scattered homes, Fairfield residents said, all that Fairfield has to offer are boarded and vacant houses, abandoned cars, mounds of trash and ever-present dust.
"There's just a handful of us left in Fairfield and I can't imagine anymore coming anytime soon," said Edwin Muster, who has lived in Fairfield for 10 years. "No one wants to move here and you can look around and see why. It's going to take a large chunk from that grant to make this desirable, a place where someone wants to live."