East Lake: From Little Vietnam to The Cradle of Golf

Lyrics

[Intro]
East Lake Meadows, 1971.
Those bricks held up the weight of forgotten dreams.
Little Vietnam, they called you.

[Verse 1]
Eva Davis on the stoop, fanning herself in the July heat,
Ninety degrees, no air in those leaking units near Memorial Drive.
Sour tang of garbage, mold in the hallways after rain.
Children on cracked pavement, sirens wailing at dusk.
Broken playground swings, rusted chains swaying empty.
We were forgotten, Eva said, but we fought for our kids.
Church potlucks with collard greens and cornbread,
Building community in the despair.

[Chorus]
Oh, brick from the rubble,
You, scavenged in 1998 by small hands,
Turned into a castle in that nearby lot.
Symbol of what we could rebuild.
From Little Vietnam to green fairways.

[Verse 2]
Tom Cousins, born 1931, saw the worst and dreamed a plan.
East Lake Foundation, 1995, demolition cranes towering.
Tearing down those 650 units, the crime, the pain.
Eva's voice in the meetings, fighting for better days.
I wanted to prove it, Tom said, with the right people.
Mixed-income homes rising, The Villages of East Lake.
Drew Charter School opening doors in 2000.

[Bridge]
Those children, amid the dust of '98,
Stacking bricks for their fort, laughing in the chaos.
A fleeting castle, resilience in their eyes.
Bridging the eras, from storm to sunrise.

[Verse 3]
Now, East Lake Golf Club, 1904 roots,
Bobby Jones's home, Alston Drive greens.
Early fog at 6 a.m., dew on the grass,
Thwack of balls, scent of fresh-cut earth.
PGA TOUR Championship, golf carts zipping.
Community gathering, no more forgotten.

[Outro]
Brick, you held the arc.
From despair to this cradle of golf.
We turned it around, together.