I can always count on Lester “Bo” White, a childhood friend from Tuscaloosa, Ala., to keep me posted on the hometown news. Bo’s last e-mail contained bad news: McKenzie Courts, the housing project where I spent most of my childhood, is going to be razed. Supposedly, McKenzie Courts will be replaced by townhouses and two-story structures. Supposedly, the people who live there now will get first dibs on the new units. Supposedly, this is going to be a good deal for everyone.

I’m not so sure. We all can cite past instances in which people being displaced were given similar assurances. Yet, after the new buildings were erected, they did not move into them and were forced to fend for themselves. I hope this isn’t the case this time because this is personal, very personal.

I was born in my Big Mama’s house at 2721-15th Street. That area had the well-deserved moniker, “The Bottom.” We lived three doors down from Big Mama at 2715-15th Street. In fact, I was born in that three-room house. Most of the houses in The Bottom have been torn down. Whenever I drive on the bypass that now runs over the old neighborhood, I look down, hoping against hope that I’ll be able to see my old shotgun house. A couple of them are left, but most have been replaced by a correctional facility.

That notwithstanding, I was able to comfort myself by being able to drive through McKenzie Courts and pause where we lived: 5-D, 75-A and 52-B. McKenzie Courts was more than a housing project. To those of us who grew up in The Bottom, Shack Town, Barr’s Quarters, or any of the other over populated, poor neighborhoods, moving into McKenzie Courts was akin to moving into a wealthy suburb. And if a family did not keep up its unit – unannounced inspections would expose them – they had to go. No one was allowed to drag the others down.

Mr. Robert L. Glynn, the director of our housing complex, would tell us inspirational stories about how he, as a poor person, was able to attend what is now Alabama State University. Mr. Jimmy McMath and my stepfather, William H. Polk, were the Black history experts in the neighborhood. Mr. Robert Wade headed the First Family of McKenzie Courts. Although the Wades were poor like the rest of us, they set the standard of excellence, in athletics and academics. Many, like Sue Willie Thompson, would follow their examples by becoming lawyers or excelling in other fields.

Order was maintained by adults that everyone knew and respected. If they ordered us to do something, that was tantamount to our parents saying it. No one disrespected Miss Dot, Miss Bessie, Miss Edna, Miss Henderson, Mr. Luke, Miss Lottie, Mr. Willie, Miss Ida, Miss Green, Mr. William, Mr. P.A. (for Prince Albert), Miss Richards, Ma Sis, Miss Annie Mae, Miss Temple, Miss Mary and so many others.

Big Mama (Sylvia Harris) moved to 23-A. And on Sundays, I’d eat dinner at home and at Big Mama’s, too. I don’t remember how that ritual got started, but it did. And I enjoyed every moment with my grandmother.

Every kid in McKenzie Courts made trips to the Blind Man’s Store, next to the office. I charged my buddies, Jacob and “Shang” Richardson, a penny to look into my ViewMaster. After a minute, they would have to pay me another penny. I collected the pennies, headed to the Blind Man’s Store and bought as many 2-for-a-penny cookies as I could. “I’ll see you later,” he would always tell us.

The heart of McKenzie Courts, at least for the guys, was the concrete outdoor basketball court. In addition to being a place to play, it was a place to talk trash. “Rabbit," one of the regulars, would always say, “I may not be the best basketball player in the world, but I’m the best you’ve ever seen.” Then, he’d proceed to show us by sinking a long shot.

Howard “Lip” Lanier, who still lives in McKenzie Courts, is the only person I know who could broadcast an entire football – using only his imagination. A crowd would gather in one corner of the basketball court as Lip would intone “Alabama has the ball on the 20-yard line. Joe Namath drops back, looks left, throws right….Touchdown, Alabama!”

McKenzie Courts holds so many fond memories. They can tear down the buildings, but they will never be able to erase the memories.