Good Intentions Collide in Nauck
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Good Intentions Collide in Nauck

MLK Community Center faces possible shut down.

It was Aug. 28, 1963 and on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, a young man named John Robinson was listening to Martin Luther King deliver his now famous speech.

"I have a dream, that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood," said King, his voice resounding on a microphone. "I have a dream, that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."

Following in the spirit of King's message Robinson, who had worked briefly with King in the days prior, was compelled to do his part for civil rights in the Arlington neighborhood where he was born and raised, Nauck. Along with his allies in local activism groups, Robinson and friend Al McSurely opened the Martin Luther King Community Center, 2411 South Kenmore Street, a focal point dedicated to Nauck residents in need that has remained for 40 years.

"The intention was to get people to do for themselves," Robinson said from across the desk in his cluttered office. "That's why this place is here, to raise people up."

Throughout the years, the center has organized clothing and food drives, counseling seminars for people suffering from substance abuse problems, free HIV tests for local residents and other assistance for low-income people living in Nauck. It also serves as an impromptu homeless shelter at times, mostly during the winter. McSurley moved on but Robinson stayed, helping his community through an epidemic of crack cocaine in the 1980s, through challenges of gang violence and neighborhood conflicts.

The quintessential man-about-town in Nauck, he knows every aspect of his neighborhood and has continued his work despite countless obstacles. The center, a two-story house, has survived an eternal struggle to stay afloat financially and withstood many conflicts from a few surrounding homeowners.

"Some people don't want me here," Robinson said. "They feel I shouldn't be helping any of the addicts and the poor people who live around here but I say, ‘There, by only the grace of God, go you or I.’"

But now, his life's work is threatened by another obstacle, urban development. The community center sits on land slated to be part of the county's plans to revamp Nauck, a predominately black and Hispanic community with some residents who have lived there for generations. County assessors have already appeared to take measurements of the house's foundation. This has Robinson worried, not only for his community center but for the neighborhood as a whole.

"They've got a plan to redevelop this area," he said. "Black people, some who don't know what they have, are selling. The land is hilly, beautiful and very valuable."

The development plan for Nauck, an area originally populated by the remnants of a camp of freed slaves after the Civil War, was approved by the County Board in July 10 2004. It calls for a large, open plaza where the community center and several homes now stand. The project has already been granted $1.5 million from the county's commercial revitalization fund.

The plan is to improve quality of life for residents in Nauck by creating more green space for use as a park and commercial center, according to James Brown, a county planning manager for the area.

"It will be a commercial plaza with places to sit outside, places for children to play and that type of thing," Brown said. "It will have mixed uses in that way."

But Robinson believes the development will bring about the end of Nauck as a community. Prices for rent, for example, will go up and many residents will sell their property to move elsewhere, Robinson predicted.

"We had prime property but we're losing it," said Robinson. "Our forefathers struggled to get this land and they are selling it like hotcakes and the county is selling us short so they can make more money."

He added, "I'm not against growth and building but don't force us out. The poor will be with us until the end of time. We're not going to just go away if you push us aside."

The building that houses Robinson’s community center is currently owned by a private landlord who donates use of the space.

Robinson remembers thousands of men and women who have passed through the community center's doors looking for help. On a shelf in his office, sits an urn containing the ashes of a young man who died of AIDS in the 1980s. The man's family, Robinson said, refused to take the ashes, still feeling the stigma that came along with the disease at the time. Robinson has kept the urn as a reminder of a man he called his friend.

"I'll probably take it down to the river one day and scatter the ashes," he said. "I'm not sure. It was just so very hard to have to remind his family that he was still human, still their son."

Death is an integral part of Robinson's work. He attends every funeral held in Nauck and pens obituaries for people who have nobody else to write them. The community center's office walls are a collage of funerary pamphlets bearing photos and names of the dead. In some ways, Robinson is Nauck's memory.

"I remember when this was a rural, very rural area," he said. "But look at it now."

Robinson has also assisted police and federal agents in tracking down suspected criminals who have come to the center. Once, he even convinced a young bank robber to turn in his loot and confess. Robinson later spoke at the boy's trial, asking the judge for a reduced sentence. Robinson does all of this work without receiving any personal income. He lives off the charity of his friends and supporters of his work. Each day, he makes a constitutional through Nauck to meet with his neighbors in an effort to bring more aid to the center. The long walks are also a useful method to keep an eye on the goings-on around Nauck. Because of them, Robinson knows where drug dealers work, where young kids congregate and where the neighborhood is changing.

"A lot of people were afraid of the drug problems and they left but I decided to stay because this is my community," he said. "The boys dealing drugs, I use psychology on them. I tell them the police are out looking for them or something like that. I know how to deal with them."

Plans for Nauck's redevelopment are set to begin sometime within the coming year and could last five years depending on the circumstances of construction.

"It may be possible for John to continue his work in some way once it is done," said Christian Dorsey, executive director of the Marc Bonder and Amanda Johnson Community Development Corporation, a firm heavily involved in the county's plan.

The company wants to build its own community center in Nauck, a center that is included in the county's plans.

"We want any change that comes to Nauck to bring positive development and urban renewal," Dorsey said. "I understand that people are concerned."

The corporation and the county are now in talks with landowners throughout Nauck to negotiate the purchase of land for the project.

"No final decision have been made at this point," said Brown. "We are still in discussions with the landowners and residents but we want to acquire as much land as possible."

But the presence of the community center will be sorely missed in Nauck if it disappears.

"I don't know what I'd do without it here," said Peter Louis, a nearby resident, as he picked through clothes in a donation bin. "We rely on it. There are people here who know it as the only place they've got to go."