From the seat of his riding mower at Robert and Division streets, Bernard Taylor speaks plainly about one of Druid Heights’ greatest challenges: vacant lots and overgrowth.

“The lots, the grass, the trees. These alleys – you can’t see down half of them. A while back, there was a body in one of them alleys and it was so overgrown it took a while to find it.”

“And some of these houses,” he continued with exasperation, pointing a block or two away, “I mean, one of them’s got a tree growing out of the god-dammed roof. It’s a mess here. I know the city can’t do everything, but come on. I live here.”

Taylor has been cutting vacant lots in Druid Heights  for a year, contributing his own riding mower and paying for its gas.

On Saturday, he was one of more than 175 volunteers from the neighborhood and organizations like Social Baltimore and No Boundaries Coalition who joined forces to help Druid Heights get a handle on its two-foot-high weeds and grass.

The cleanup, the first of what will be monthly beautification projects, focused on 17 vacant lots and was organized by the Druid Heights Community Development Corporation with the support of the area’s two councilmen, Eric T. Costello and Nick Mosby, who brought in tools from the Tool Bank, volunteers and city support.

Limited Resources

Located near the epicenter of April’s riot just east of Sandtown-Winchester, the neighborhood is full of vacant lots, about 85 parcels worth.

Many are owned either by the CDC or the city. “It’s one of our greatest challenges, keeping the open space clean with limited resources. We can’t do it all ourselves,” said Tony Pressley, the CDC’s resource director. “We have two part-time workers. We used to have four.”

Until recently, one vacant lot was used as a storage area for a city contractor. “Stuff was out there for about a year and a half,” Costello said. “Once DPW knew about it, though, they came out and cleaned it up within a week.”

One of Saturday’s volunteers was Tiffany Wingate.

She grew up in McCulloh Homes, a public housing project a few blocks away, and returned to the area about three years ago, buying a home in Druid Heights.

“My mom still lives here. I wanted to spend my later years giving something back,” the mother of three grown children explained as she swept the sidewalk and pulled weeds throughout the neighborhood for most of the day.

“I could have bought in the county with the crickets and the owls, but I wanted to be here,” she said.

Pride and a Peace Park

Wingate recalls her youth in Baltimore, a time when she believes people took more interest in their communities.

“We had the Afro clean block contests. Residents could win prizes and there was an excitement about it, a certain pride.”

Wingate said of the city and those days “you can’t go back,” but added that “Baltimore has a lot of good people and a lot of good places. This community in particular, there is a lot of history here. The first African-American to own a home in this area was only about a block from me.”

The neighborhood has made some headway on its vacant lot front. Two of the empty lots at Druid Hill Avenue and Bloom Street will soon be converted into a peace park.

Roscoe Johnson, executive director of the CDC, said, “There aren’t many places in the neighborhood just to relax outside. The park will have benches, a rain garden, pavers and trees.”

Tavon Benson, a community organizer with the CDC, said some 600 neighbors weighed in on what they wanted for the grant-funded peace park, which will include storm water management features and a mural.

Benson said he’d like the mural to reflect the area’s history, depicting its past, present and future. (Druid Heights already has one mural, two free library boxes and garden on the corner of Druid Hill Avenue and Presstman Street.)

During a tour of the neighborhood, he acknowledged that the area continues to struggle with drugs. The trade was quieter today, he noted. mostly because of all the cleanup activity.

“It’s not as bad as it used to be, but it is still here. We’re trying to change the mindset of the community.”

He looked across the street at a vacant building and said wistfully, “If I had money, I would turn one of these into a youth center. “

Stoopfront Snowballs

While parts of Druid Heights cleaned up, the rest of the neighborhood went about its day.

Save for the occasional vroom of a dirt bike doing wheelies northbound on Druid Hill Avenue, the neighborhood was quiet in the hot sun.

The corner store did good business. Fifty-cent, foot-long freezee pops were big sellers, while a few blocks away on Gold Street, Sophia McMurray manned her stoopfront confectionary.

Under a red awning with a fan, she and her family sold snacks, small bags of candy, soda, water and snowballs (also starting at 50 cents).

McMurray is raising money for school supplies for neighborhood children, she said. She has been in the snowball and candy business for few years, off and on. “I buy supplies or whoever needs them,” she explained.

As for the snowballs, she added, “I’ve got all the good flavors and marshmallow, too.”

“Just Give us the Tools”

Taylor was cutting grass most of the day. He said, on a break in between lots, that he wished the neighborhood had more clean up resources available not just for the vacant lots, but for alleys and elsewhere.

He doesn’t want to rely on the city.

“We don’t want a trashy-ass neighborhood. If I had a grant for some more equipment – use of a truck that runs, a chainsaw, free dumping, we could do a lot of this for ourselves,” he said. “Why can’t people be empowered? Just give us the tools.”