In November of 2007, McClendon purchased a storm-ravaged warehouse with the intention of storing and repairing antique cars. Prior to Hurricane Katrina he had owned nine such vehicles and a new house to boot. Nowadays though, he has left his automobile dreams behind, opting instead to use the facility as the grounds for a community centre in the seemingly post-Apocalyptic neighbourhood two blocks from where we arrived.
"I had been trying to get that facility for four years before Katrina because I love antique cars and I thought it would be a great place to work on them," said McClendon. "That worked until I got the keys in my hand. Once I got the keys in my hand and stepped into that place, childhood and teenage memories came back to me and I couldn't shake them."
Memories that consisted of growing up in this exact neighbourhood, the same one which, just three years and five months ago, sat trapped under 32 feet of surge water on August 29, 2005.
"You hear people talk about it - you know - how tragedy brings on change. I thought it was a myth. Now I know it to be the truth because I lost all my material things."
Instead of dwelling on it or complaining about his circumstances, McClendon - known throughout the community as simply Mack - went about making things better, starting with a dream he had to create a centre for children in the area - equipped with a regulation-sized indoor basketball court.
"I loved community centres, they were my sanctuary as a kid," says McClendon, referring to one in particular not far from where we conducted our interview. "That community centre was my sanctuary and it kept me from dealing with drugs, the whole nine yards. Everything that you wanted to do was in there."
With the help of over 4,500 volunteers in its first year alone (and as of Feb. 2009, not a single government dollar) the Lower Ninth Ward Village blossomed into a charitable organization capable of getting things done.
While awaiting the funds to begin major renovations on the warehouse, the Village has installed bathrooms and showers, and has opened their doors to dozens of people in the neighbourhood seeking refuge under a roof at night. The rows upon rows of cots that adorn what will one day be a basketball court are symbolic of how far the community has yet to go. It's been over three years now, but a mere fraction of residents have returned to their homes - provided they even withstood the hurricane.
According to McClendon, as much as 65 per cent of the Lower Ninth Ward was comprised of the elderly. In the years since Katrina, just five per cent have reclaimed their lives. Blocks amongst blocks sit vacant, with spray paint markings on waterlogged doors identifying search parties that first responded to count the dead or provide aid to the living.
Holes in devastated roofs remain as proof that not long ago people were breaking their way through their own attics to avoid drowning in their bedrooms while other houses stand silent, awaiting the return of their owners.
Across the street from buildings marked in black paint, "Do not demolish", lie collapsed heaps of drywall and A-frames less than 50 metres from where others have restored their own houses and go about living their lives.
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On this particular day, Mack is overseeing a group of volunteers from Massachusetts as they clear debris from a lot that once would have contained a small home. Once clear of any significant vegetative ruins, the lot can be mowed and prepared for whatever the future has in store. Both adults and children work alongside each other - gardening gloves and garbage bags in hand.
These are the types of people in the neighbourhood who visitors to the area can more reasonably expect, and although crime in the area does exist (as can be seen in any low-income residence), the menacing perception people have of the Lower Ninth Ward is a far cry from the truth. Like anywhere else in the world, families live here and lead happy lives, it's not a plot of land reserved exclusively for blood-thirsty criminals itching to jack cars.
Perhaps a more telling danger than drugs or violence in the area would be the fact that we constantly let ourselves believe that the Lower Ninth Ward and neighbourhoods in similar situations are breeding grounds exclusively for criminals and hatred.
"What we have to be is willing to work with each other," says McClendon, "It doesn't matter what colour, breed, or whatever. If we can look beyond racial stereotypes, then we are going to find that this is a great world and we can save it."
It's a daunting task, especially for a man who two years ago would have never predicted he'd find himself spending his days as the Executive Director of a credentialed not-for-profit organization.
As a sports fan through and through, there's no wonder that a basketball court fits into Mack McClendon's grand solution - along with computer labs, a recording studio and a kitchen within which kids can learn how to cook.
"I know what sports did for me, so [the community centre] definitely needs a basketball court for the kids to get some of their frustrations out and to learn how to communicate with each other."
With sport serving at the core of McClendon's efforts, I wonder if it was any coincidence that it was a rundown basketball net photo opportunity that led me to uncover, for myself, the truth about the Lower Ninth Ward. The truth about perseverance, about people living in extreme cases of poverty, and the truth about the inherent merits of working as a team.
"One thing about sports," McClendon pauses, "Is that I don't care how good one individual is, they can never beat the team. Never beat the team."
And with that, I knew for sure.
For more information about the Lower Ninth Ward Village and how to contribute, check out lower9thwardvillage.org.
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