Garber: Coming Home

— -- Reporter: "Desire Housing Project, please."Cabbie: "What?"Reporter: "The Desire Projects, in the Ninth Ward."Cabbie: "Uh, no. No way. You don't go in there. I mean, the po-lice don't even go in there."

NEW ORLEANS -- The project named Desire, about eight miles northeast of downtown, was completed in 1954. There were 262 three-story units, and they housed 14,000 people, at the time the second-largest public housing facility in the county.

Today, Desire is clearly a project that failed.

Like the rage in Langston Hughes' "Raisin in the Sun," it exploded long ago; most of the units were razed by bulldozers. The residue of Tennessee Williams' namesake hard by the High Rise Bridge on the road to Slidell is amere handful of dark buildings framed in wood with crumbling brick veneer. Trash blows through the dirt that passes for yards. Cars, charred beyond recognition, are a common sight. Drug dealers patrol the corners. Even the dogs look sickly.

According to the most recent census data, the typical Desire family consists of a single mother with three children and an average annual income of less than $6,000. The crime rate is high, the population is 100 percent black and the median age is about 12 years old. People who know about these things say Desire is the baddest-ass project in America, worse even than Chicago's Cabrini Green, where Hoop Dreams was shot.

Marshall Faulk, the Rams' running back was born into this squalid environment in the Ninth Ward, or as they say in the "hood," the Upper Nine. Earlier this week he was asked by an entertainment reporter where his favorite hangouts were.

"I'm from the projects," Faulk said, squinting his eyes as he seemed to weigh the irony. "My favorite parts of the town are not the places people would want to be."

Aeneas Williams, the Rams' cornerback, grew up a few miles to the west in the relative uptown comfort of the Hollygrove section of Carrollton near Highway 90.

"I am proud where I come from," Williams said, "because it's who I am."

Hundreds of millions worldwide will revel in the spectacle of Sunday's Super Bowl XXXVI. Someone, perhaps even Faulk or Williams, will play the hero. But the real triumph worth noting here is their perseverance in the odyssey home to the Crescent City. The obstacles and odds they have faced are, quite frankly, hard for most people to fathom.

"It's amazing to me," said Lawrence Williams, Aeneas' father. "When you think of all the events and circumstances that came together, all the different, inner links that brought them here ... it almost doesn't make sense."

But, of course, it does. It makes perfect sense, really.

There is an interconnectedness at work, a weird and wonderful serendipity. Both Faulk, 28, and Williams, who turned 34 on Tuesday, sold popcorn and peanuts at the Louisiana Superdome, where the game will beplayed between the Rams and New England Patriots. Williams' high school football coach, Robert Welch, was Faulk's teacher in eighth grade honors mathematics. Faulk's mother, Cecile, went to elementary school, McDonald 38, with Williams' mother, Lillian.

Rams head coach Martz has a stock answer when people ask him about the enormous impact Williams had on his defense when he arrived before the season in a draft-day trade.

"Aeneas," Martz said, "means to our defense what Marshall meant to our offense in '99 when he came in."

And that is saying something, since Faulk was the NFL's MVP in 2000 and the runner-up this season. Here they are, the Rams' true leaders on opposite sides of the ball, back in New Orleans, back on the emerald carpet of the Superdome.

"They are extraordinary people, not just great athletes," Welch said. "That's the real reason they're here, in the biggest game in the world."

One in a million

Welch, the coach of Alcee Fortier High School's football team, studied the scrawny kid standing in front of him, who insisted he knew him -- and vice versa. It was one of those wild Friday night public schooldoubleheaders at the Dome, and a bold Carver High School player had him backed up against a wall in the bowels of the facility.

"I'm Marshall, Marshall Faulk," he said. "You had me in honors math. You remember?"

Truth is, Welch didn't. He had seen some terrific athletes in his years at Fortier. Six future NFL cornerbacks -- Maurice Hurst, Kevin Lewis, GarryLewis, Michael Lindsey, Ashley Ambrose and Aeneas Williams all had played for him or against him, but he didn't see this athlete coming.

Eventually, the picture became clearer.

"At first I admitted I didn't remember him at all," said Welch, in his 17th year at Fortier, the school from which he graduated in 1976. "I'll tell you what, he made me remember him."

When Faulk talks about his childhood, he doesn't offer many details. Despite the numbing frequency of New Orleans questions from the media this week, Faulk has declined to evoke sympathy. Sitting behind a podium in ahotel ballroom, wearing a pair of jeans and a brand new, gray Super Bowl XXXVI sweatshirt, he was vague in a matter-of-fact way.

"I'm not reluctant to talk about my upbringing," he said, a little defensively. "My upbringing is like a million other guys. I was very fortunate. I stopped at the stop sign and made the right left turn before I got into too much trouble.

"That's not the story here. I'm ready to talk about Xs and Os."

Not only was his father nowhere to be found, but Faulk didn't have the carrot of athletics at the Carver Middle School. Academics absorbed him, though, and it was enough to steer him -- just barely -- into that right left turn.

"His sophomore year, he was ready to leave school," said Danielle Foley, Carver High School's athletics director then and now. "We had to do some tall talking to keep him. The Desire Projects, particularly at thattime, were rough, extremely rough."

Said Faulk, "My family was poor. Mom was sick, and we needed the money."

"You get in a rut and don't think things are going to improve," Welch said. "There were a lot of variables working on him to quit school."

Somehow, Cecile Faulk and her four boys managed. Marshall stayed in school, playing football and running track for all four years before graduating in 1990.

Faulk played both ways at Carver, running back, wide receiver, a little quarterback and defensive back, but he saw himself as a college running back. Faulk's brain-trust at Carver told Nebraska they could have him ifthey let him run the ball. But, no, the Cornhuskers saw him as a defensive back. San Diego State was the only school that gave in.

"If you tell me I can't kick a ball, I'll kick it," Faulk said. "If you tell me I can't catch a ball, I'll catch it. Tell me I can't run? I'm running.

"I didn't make All-Metro (New Orleans). You can't tell me that when I went to San Diego State people knew I was going to make it to the NFL. No one else knew that.

"Football didn't come to me. I went to football."

What's in a name?

The New Orleans phone book has 11 pages of Williams, from Aaron to Zelda A. Imagine the odds of trying to break out of those thousands of Williams, much less a nation of athletes.

Lawrence Williams, one of those mundane names among the agate print, gave his sons an advantage. He and Lillian named the first one Achilles and the second one Aeneas Demetrius.

"Growing up through junior high school, high school and college, he had people in his classrooms with the exact same name," Aeneas said. "While in college he studied Greek mythology and, for whatever reasons, the Greek names impressed him. He didn't want his children to have the problem of having identical names as someone in our classes -- and believe me, we have not had that problem.

"Growing up, nobody could pronounce our names. I wanted the common name like Ralph or Frank or something. It wasn't until I got older that I realized the significance of being unique."

That thought was continually reinforced by his parents.

"They were there for him at all times," Welch said. "It was a very functional family."

Back in 1983, when Williams was a freshman, Welch knew he'd be an academic success; the kid said he wanted to be an accountant. Welch wasn't so sure about the athletic part. The fastest 40-yard-dash he would ever run in high school was a 4.99 -- snail-slow for even a defensive tackle by NFL standards. Still, he ran a school-best 5:30 in the mile, so he had the ability.

Throughout his career at Fortier, Williams played strong safety, traditionally a position for slower athletes who hit big. He turned down an academic scholarship to Dartmouth, choosing to attend nearby Southern University instead. Williams made the dean's list and became a player in student government; he was the vice president of the sophomore class.

"When I was coming up, everybody participated in the child-rearing and the maturity of a child," Williams said. "Teachers, neighbors, coaches -- they were all a part of it. Anytime I had teachers threaten to tell my dad when I acted up, you really didn't like those teachers very much. But as I got older, I learned that those were some of the best teachers I ever had."

He didn't play football at Southern until his junior year. Five days before the season began, Williams tried out as a walk-on. A month later, he was starting. He led the nation with 11 interceptions as a senior and earned a degree in accounting, just like Achilles before him.

The degrees come in handy these days. Aeneas and Achilles own and operate four auto dealerships in Louisiana -- GMC and Toyota in Bastrop, near Shreveport, and a Honda franchise and Monroe Auto World in Monroe. The vice president of parts and service is Lawrence Williams. Yes, that Lawrence Williams.

"Sometimes, you do a lot of talking, a lot of work with your kids," he said from Monroe, laughing. "You tell them and you tell them and you tell them, and you think it's not doing any good. But, later, they come up andsay, 'Yeah, mom and dad, those things you said are true. I really appreciate what you did.'

"Aeneas had it in his head he was going to play pro ball, and he did it. He taught himself how to run a faster 40, and even though his first NFL team was the Rams, and they had him as a wide receiver, he stuck with it."

Williams wound up with the Cardinals in Arizona, where he intercepted six passes in 1991, tied for the NFC lead. He was the conference's defensive rookie of the year.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Welch said. "If you are looking for the ultimate self-made man, Aeneas is that man."

The ultimate role model

In the Rams' divisional playoff game against the Green Bay Packers, Williams intercepted two Brett Favre passes and, improbably, returned both for touchdowns and an NFL playoff record. The 69-yard fumble recovery for a touchdown that was overturned by replay never made the final statistics.

With a trip back home to New Orleans on the line in the NFC Championship game against the Philadelphia Eagles, Faulk rushed for 159yards, his first postseason game with more than 100 yards, and scored two touchdowns. With St. Louis nursing a 22-17 lead with just under 10 minutes left, the Rams faced a third-and-one at the Eagles' 47. Faulk ran 25 yards off right tackle, then followed that with a 10-yard catch, an eight-yard run and, finally, a score from one yard out to make it 29-17.

The game was still very much in doubt with the Eagles staring at a fourth-and-seven with 1:55 left. Williams intercepted McNabb's pass to seal a 29-24 win.

Do you believe in miracles? They do down here in New Orleans. And now two of their favorite sons are playing for the NFL championship. You won't find a better role model than Faulk or Williams, not anywhere.

"People place limitations or perceived limitations on you as a youngster," Williams said. "If you are not a standout, gifted guy, I think sometimes coaches have a tendency to concentrate on the marquee guys, andthat's whom the media talks about.

"I think the message I want to send to kids who don't get out of bed running a 4.2 40-yard dash is to keep at it. Excel, learn and get better each day. When I sold popcorn and peanuts, I wanted to be one of the best.Whatever you're doing, always strive for a lot of momentum. Do it your best, and success will be yours."

Faulk concurs. "The kids can talk to me. I've been there. I understand. I say, 'I'm where you want to be.' You (the media) are trying to make the poor kid into the athlete who made it. Well, I'm trying to make the kid see the value of hard work and dedication. Not many people make it as professional athletes. I say, 'Work hard and be good -- at whatever.' That's my thing."

Not all stories have happy endings. Carver High School tried to arrange a visit from Faulk on Wednesday. The students were assembled in the auditorium, waiting on their most famous alumnus, but Faulk never made it.

"Practice goes until five, school's over at three," Faulk said, shrugging. "I just didn't work out."

One Carver athlete in particular -- Issac Newton Jr. -- was crushed. He's the star running back, and he wears Faulk's No. 28.

"That's why we wanted him there so bad, for Isaac," Foley said. "He needs a strong example in his life and Marshall's that example."

Marshall Faulk -- and Aeneas Williams. Work hard. Strive. Be good. Success will be yours.

Greg Garber is a senior writer for ESPN.com