At 5’9”, blond, blue-eyed, retired executive Betsy Cooksey presents a glaring contrast to the decayed, concrete facade of Cambridge Park Apartments, a thirty-two-year-old Section 8 public housing community in Dorchester County. While a passer-by spotting Cooksey on the grounds of this neglected property would likely peg her as hopelessly lost, this community is her home away from home. Here she works as the apartment’s community service coordinator, hired by Annapolis-based management company, Habitat America, to create desperately needed on-site social programs for its impoverished 150 residents. Says Cooksey, “If I could bring anything to the community, I want to bring hope. We’re still in the very early stages of launch, and it has to be done very carefully, very respectfully. I don’t want to own this community, I want the residents to own this community.”

Under a winter sky, Cambridge Park Apartments is an uninspired environment located two miles from Rt. 50 and a 10-minute walk from downtown Cambridge. Hues of smoky-gray and ashen-red color the facades of the community’s six, three-story apartment buildings, hemmed by unruly brush in the back and newer low-income housing in the front. Broken windows speak of years of neglect and vandalism, while a balding courtyard serves as the community playground.

But the mood of their community is about to change dramatically. The property is scheduled to undergo a $13 million renovation this spring and be completed in two and a half years. Of the total renovation budget, $8.5 million has been garnered from federal low-income housing tax credits administered by the Maryland Department of Housing and Community Development. In order for the project to have won this funding, its owners, Osprey Property Group in Annapolis in cooperation with Baltimore codeveloper Bill Hazlehurst, committed to providing social programs designed to give the residents - adults and children equally - the opportunity to improve their lives within the project and, more important, to move up and out.

Although Cambridge provides a wide array of social programs, Cooksey discovered early that, for whatever reasons, the property’s residents historically have not accessed the county’s available resources. So Cooksey has brought a number of much-needed services directly to the residents such as parenting classes, held in residents’ apartments and a seniors’ program that shuttles older residents on shopping and travel outings. For the benefit of the children, she’s arranged scholarships to the YMCA, as well as have the 4-H Club, the Girl Scouts, and the Boys & Girls Club come in the evenings.

Through the eyes of resident Cheryl Perry, the renovations and the programs are a welcome relief. “Basically, it’s going to be a better place to stay. I’ve been here through the hard times when they had nothing but crack heads and drug dealers. You could sit in your window and see any kind of anything going on. But it’s just going to be a better place. They need to get the people out who are doing wrong. It already seems like day and night. It’s already totally different.”

After retiring from a career in international development for Third-World nations, Cooksey was eager for a drastic change in professions. While volunteering at the Boys & Girls Club in Calvert County, a colleague told her about the opening at Cambridge Park Apartments. Soon after applying for the position, she was hired in April 2001.

Cooksey commutes to her three-day-a-week job from her home in southern Maryland’s Calvert County and spends two nights a week in Cambridge. Initially, her budget was so scant that for the first four months she was forced to overnight in a grim little hotel until a local family offered to let her stay indefinitely, rent-free, in the cottage behind their home as a token of their appreciation for her efforts within the community.

Her first goal for the community was to begin a youth program in order to get kids off the streets and into a safe place. She attracted the children with games of checkers. “I had a bag of carrots,” says Cooksey who would sit on the only bench left on the property that hadn’t been destroyed, “and I kept bringing bigger and bigger bags of carrots because there would be fifteen to sixteen kids in line to play checkers with me. The moms would hang out the windows and watch, and come out to see what was going on. They were very skeptical, asking, ‘What’s this new management? What are they going to do? Who’s that white woman?’”

As the months went by, the children became progressively more comfortable with Cooksey. Even Amira McGee, seven years old, began to turn the corner emotionally. “When she first started coming to the youth center, she’d throw herself on the ground, curl into a ball, and break into tears, angry that no one was listening to her. She doesn’t do that any longer. Now she knows she’s heard and, with three other siblings, that’s what she’d been longing for. Now you can get smiles out of her and when you do, it makes your day.”

The threadbare fabric of the children’s lifestyle revealed itself to Cooksey, who soon realized that before any supplementary changes could be implemented in their lives, she would have to start with providing them the very basic elements of love and nourishment. “By the time school was out in June,” says Cooksey, “we quickly found that a lot of the mothers were depending on the school breakfast and lunch program. We discovered that the children were going without food during the day - some without access to their apartments. They were waiting for the youth center to open at 3:30 p.m. having not had breakfast or lunch or water or the use of toilets. While their moms are at work, the kids are locked out. If Mom left the apartment open during the day, there’d be nothing left inside.”

She went to the Dorchester County Office of Child and Family Services, Local Management Board and got some emergency money to open the center from 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Then she called the Maryland Food Bank and asked them to donate snacks for the kids. “I cried when the first delivery came,” she says.

But not all of the community has been as supportive. To no avail, she has reached out to recruit youth center volunteers and financial assistance. Save for one local church’s $600 donation in relief money for the seven families who lost everything in the property’s October fire, so far, none of the local, private organizations, including churches, has come forward to help. She’s twice booked a Christian rap singer to come to the property who has twice stood her up. “I’ve interviewed probably half of the residents and asked how they would feel about bringing some sort of evangelical presence,” she reports. “The residents were all in favor of it, but churches are scared to commit. People are frightened to come here even though the crime rate has dropped in half in the last nine months, partly because of the attention being paid to the residents and the implementation of the new social programs.”

It is four days before Christmas and some twenty young residents are reveling in the chaos of the year’s first snowball fight. All of the low-flying fire is aimed at a mustachioed man sporting a felt Australian outback hat, khaki pants, and a fleece pullover. For a few more cold minutes he returns the barrage with not-so-delicate force then calls the kids into a huddle and briefly explains the concept of hypothermia, demonstrating how to check fingers for discoloration. He dismisses the group under the order to return home to change into dry socks. Fearing his words lost amid the boisterous chatter, he tosses in a gently delivered yet stern threat: “Listen, you want to come in the youth center, you come back with a dry pair of socks. I’m serious.”

“That’s Mr. Grant,” explains Cooksey. “He’s the new youth director.”

Thanks to funding from The Dorchester County Local Management Board, Cooksey was able to hire her first staff member, Grant Davis, a retired drill sergeant who is currently earning his B.A in history at Salisbury University. “The heavens opened and dropped Grant to us,” continues Cooksey, surrounded by a herd of snow-covered children tugging at her sleeve for attention. “The kids love him - he’s structured. Although, when he came here for the interview, he took one look at the buildings and said, ‘It’s not for me!’ But he came back. He’s only been here about three months, and he’s made a world of difference.”

Davis works at the youth center five days a week, tutoring elementary and middle school students. He also runs the Boys Club on Monday evenings. Together, Davis and Cooksey are attempting to instill positive, respectful attitudes in the children by enforcing zero-tolerance for disrespect for one another and for property. “When I stepped in,” says Davis, “the children were like, ‘Whoa, a white man, ex-military, he means business.’ They got that right off the bat. They just want a role model; there are few fathers around.”

Cooksey explains that when she was running the program alone, she would often be forced to call the police to break up fights in the youth center among the children, most of whom have short fuses and are very aggressive. But a phenomenal transformation in their attitudes has occurred. “Today you will not hear an unkind word from any of the children,” says Cooksey. “When the kids act out, we don’t want to suspend them from the after school program - the parents aren’t home. We’re teaching these kids the principles of respect and character. And they want to be with us more than they want to be on the streets or at home. They’re responding to the increased discipline standards. So, they’re getting it. They’re getting it.”

Davis’ initial sessions with both age groups were likewise just as shocking, revealing major deficiencies in the local school system. Many of the children who came for help couldn’t read, yet had been passed from grade to grade, receiving A’s and B’s. “The first thing I asked the kids for was their report cards. Some parents challenged me about that - they didn’t know what I was doing. I just wanted to see where I could help. Now when they get good grades that I know are well-earned, I praise and reward them. And the reward is that Mr. Grant will help you develop your character and learn to respect yourself. But it’s not easy, and it’s slow.”

According to Cooksey, 20 percent of the children attending the program under Davis’ leadership are not residents of Cambridge Park Apartments but are children like seventh grader Tevis Molock who live in nearby communities and learn about the center from their friends. Molock, eager for something to do with his often unsupervised free time, arrived at the youth center without any prompting from his parents. “Ever since I found out there was a youth center over here I started coming,” says Molock, a bright kid with a wily grin. “It sounded like fun. They could help me with my homework. And we do fun stuff. I’d do nothing if I weren’t coming here. My school work is getting easier. At first I used to get mad ‘cause I didn’t know things, but now Mr. Grant’s taught me how to stop getting mad.”

The stench of urine combined with three decades of neglect assaults the senses as you climb the stairwell in Cambridge Park apartment building No. 500. The smell wafts up the steps and under the apartment doors, weaving itself into the air. To a first-time visitor, the renovations can’t come soon enough.

Heading the building project is Baltimore-based developer Bill Hazlehurst who first learned of the property through the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD). Says Hazlehurst, “When I first came down here to look at the property, I thought this is not what I do. It looked as bad as some of the inner-city housing projects in Baltimore. In fact, HUD had it marked for demolition. But as we looked at what was available for the residents in terms of low-income housing in Cambridge, and looked at their incomes, we realized that there was no place else for them to go. I thought to myself that this was just a travesty.”

Hazlehurst, an ex-lacrosse player with a background in historic preservation, reports that an estimated $50,000 per apartment will be spent on renovations, which will include new floor plans, new appliances, and the addition of a half-bath to the three-bedroom apartments. Also, at least $1 million will be spent on safety features like an entirely new facade featuring open stairwells designed to eliminate hiding places that breed illegal activities.

The property will also be graced with a $1 million, 7,000-square-foot community center that Hazlehurst defines as an vocational/educational/recreational center expected to rival anything of its kind on the Eastern Shore. Services in the center will include a computer lab, a mini-gym, and a laundry facility.

Says Hazlehurst, “We’re planning on having a full-time Social Services person here who’ll go door-to-door to discuss what we can do in our new facility, which will include credit and mortgage counseling and household budgeting. We’ll probably have a local developer who builds housing for moderate-income people talk with the residents about home ownership so that as they begin to develop budgeting skills, they can start looking at what the next step is. When they have all this available to them, I think the opportunities are just going to be limitless.”

Probably the most dramatic and somewhat controversial change to the community will be HUD-approved mandatory drug testing for all tenants ages fourteen and older. Residents within the community who are found to be using drugs will be allowed to stay, but only under the condition that they complete a drug rehabilitation program. Simply putting the rumor out on the street has caused drug traffickers to remove themselves from the property. Says Hazelhurst, “The rule will be three strikes, and you’re out. We don’t want to kick people out because they do drugs. What we want to do is get people to stop using drugs.”

While the ultimate objective of the property’s management is to provide residents with temporary, affordable, and safe housing, Hazelhurst fears that the renovations will likely encourage a number of residents to claim the property for their permanent home, simply because of what is available through the on-site social programs. This mindset goes against Cooksey’s ultimate goals for the residents of the community. “We want this to be temporary housing,” stresses Cooksey. “We’re not interested in people wanting to stay forever. This should be a steppingstone toward independence and self-reliance.”

“I am looking forward to one day leaving here, going to my own house,” says Rolesia Jones. “Just the thought of staying here for a while until I get situated or save enough to buy a house sounds good to me. I ain’t about material things. I just want to be comfortable. I just want enough room for my four kids and for them to have a safe area. That’s all I want.”

But for those who want to move out of the community, the alternative housing options within the rural town are slim. Says Hazlehurst, “A lot of people here do consider it transitional housing and are looking for a better life, but where that leads them is really uncertain. One of the problems with Cambridge is that if you look around at the low- to moderate-income housing in this area of the Eastern Shore, it’s pretty poor. There’s got to be better housing in this community.”

Cooksey hopes that by leading the children in a new direction, their parents will follow. Some - but certainly not all - of them are already on their way, encouraging their children to make the most out of their education and to look beyond their surroundings for a new life.

One such mother is Cheryl Perry, who is working as a cook at a local restaurant to put her son, Brady, through college in Delaware.

“I told him it was tough love,” recalls Perry. “I made him do his homework as soon as he got off the bus from school while it was still fresh on his mind. That was our quality time; he’d do his homework then we’d have dinner together. I thank God that I never had any problems with him. And he thanked me for the way I brought him up.”

“We’ve been able to accomplish so much in nine months in trying to reach the families and the children,” says Cooksey. “Given a little push, this community will be standing on its own in two years with economic vibrancy. I see that. I see how we can get from here to there. But like Frederick Douglass said, ‘Without struggle, there is no progress.’”