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One of three Robert Taylor Homes buildings known as “The Hole” met the beginning of the end Monday, as the wrecking ball struck its first blows.

There were few mourners.

Dust blew through the sunshine as a small crowd gathered in front of the notorious high-rise at 5326 S. State St., which was built in 1962 at the southern end of the longest stretch of public housing in the United States.

After the 12,000-pound wrecking ball began pounding the building at 8 a.m., younger former residents scrambled to recover bricks while officials vowed that the event signaled a new day for Chicago’s poor.

“What happened today was an historic step,” said Richard Monocchio, senior adviser at the Chicago Housing Authority. “This demolition is really the beginning of what is going to be a new community.”

The 16-story, 151-apartment building was one of three that sat in a U-shape and were collectively called “The Hole,” a term reflecting their isolation from neighboring buildings.

To police and CHA officials, The Hole meant trouble. It was infamous even along a four-mile corridor that is home to six of the nation’s 10 poorest neighborhoods with populations of at least 2,500, according to a Roosevelt University study.

As the red bricks tumbled, former resident Felicia Spears watched without regret.

“The Hole turned out to be alone, like you’re living out there in your own world, your own city, like living on an island,” said Spears. “Like you could fall into this hole and never come out . . . I don’t have no remorse for it.”

Born of promise, the CHA’s 28-building Taylor complex soon caved under devastating poverty. In the end, it failed a congressional “viability test,” which found it was cheaper to house residents elsewhere than to maintain the crumbling high-rise slums.

According to 1997 CHA figures, only 4 percent of Taylor’s residents were employed and the average annual income was $5,905.

Monocchio said the demolition presents a chance to “reintegrate” residents into mixed-income communities. “Between a 10- and 15-year time frame, the plan is to demolish all the (Taylor) buildings,” he said.

There were some who did mourn the death blows to 5326, though they often had an ulterior motive: The building had been home to a thriving drug trade. “We’re one big organization here,” said a young man who identified himself by the nickname Butter. “We’re like the mob–these three buildings.”

While police raids were common, they were ineffective. After a raid in the morning, the drug dealing would be flourishing again by afternoon. Spears, who served on the CHA’s Local Advisory Council, said agency attempts to improve security didn’t last long either.

An intercom system never worked because “the wires were cut,” said Spears. And a metal detector “was blown up, burnt . . . destroyed.”

Residents’ own attempts at improvements met similar fates.

Gladys McLaurien tried to bring swings to the building’s children, whose playground was little more than cement. “I made money selling candy . . . and we went and bought swings for the babies. We put it up on a Friday. On Saturday morning, it was lying on the ground–right there, on the dirt right there,” she said, pointing. “All my hard-earned money was lying in the dirt.

“I gave up. I couldn’t even explain to you how I felt.”

On Monday, McLaurien looked on dispassionately as the wrecking ball ripped into what once was her bedroom. “Why’d they hit mine first?” she joked. “Are they trying to tell me something? But really . . . these buildings mean nothing to me. They went down, down, down. A lot of us weren’t proud to stay here.”

Earlier this year, shootings that plagued The Hole prompted parents to pull their children out of Terrell Elementary School next door. The kids returned after police presence was increased and volunteers started walking students to and from school. Some of that violence, police said, stemmed from tensions between the Mickey Cobras, a gang that controlled The Hole, and the Disciples, a gang that controls Taylor buildings to the north.

With the death of The Hole, “a lot of that should end,” said Lt. Ricky Edwards, commander of Chicago Police Public Housing South. He said the Cobras are seeking new drug territory, though, and rumors indicate they might even “rent” turf from their rivals.

Taylor’s Local Advisory Council decided that The Hole should fall first after the entire Taylor Homes failed a test set by Congress in 1995, which required public housing to examine all complexes with at least 300 units that had vacancy rates of 10 percent or higher, said Monocchio. The test found it was more costly to run Taylor than to provide residents with subsidized private housing.

Brandenburg Industrial Service Co. won the contract to tear down The Hole’s three buildings with a bid of about $1.9 million, and the demolition will be finished by summer’s end, said marketing director Bill Moore.

Though the building at 5326 S. State St. is actually the second Taylor structure to go, it is the first that is in the “redevelopment plan” put together after HUD took over the CHA, Monocchio said. The building at 3919 S. Federal St. was torn down last May after the CHA abandoned a plan to transform it into a school and dormitory, he said.

While the departing residents can opt for other CHA units, most are choosing federally subsidized private housing, said Brenda Hunter, one of the agency staffers with the daunting task of relocating hundreds of families.

Hunter, who was raised in Taylor, watched quietly as the wrecking ball hit the 5356 structure. “It needs to go,” she said. “The time has come.”