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Morsberger's admirers say he's a spark plug with
extraordinary vision. His aggressive, take-charge style was the only way to
bring some 400 landowners together as Gwinnett's first Community Improvement
District, they say. Later this year, businesses along the highway will begin
taxing themselves to pay for improvements such as landscaping, lamp-lined
sidewalks and a security force. "Emory's
like a bulldog," said Kenny King, a Snellville builder who has put in many long
nights with Morsberger working on the self-taxing district. "When you're not a
wallflower and you get out and make things happen, you're not going to make
everyone happy."
King, 57, has good reason to marvel at
Morsberger's moxie. He grew up in Stone Mountain and watched Memorial Drive go
from a vibrant commercial district of Macy's and movie theaters to a hauntingly
vacant strip of abandoned buildings and blank marquees.
People wanted to save the road, but nobody would
take the lead, King said. Memorial Drive had no Emory Morsberger.
An early start
Morsberger, 48, bought his first building at age
19 in downtown Baltimore. He paid $10,000 for a complex that included four
apartments, a warehouse and a shoe store. After a few summers of sweat equity,
he sold it for $36,000.
Despite the tidy profit, a career in real estate
would have to wait. Morsberger earned degrees from Emory University and the
University of Pennsylvania's prestigious Wharton School. Then he moved back to
Decatur and started his own computer company.
In 1989, a man on early release from prison shot
Morsberger as he tried to prevent the ex-con from breaking into a car in front
of his home off Rockbridge Road. Months later, Morsberger announced he was
running for state House on a public safety platform. His trademark during the
campaign was standing at busy intersections along U.S. 78 and waving to passing
traffic. It was the first time the highway would reward him. He won.
Morsberger [later] turned his attention back to
the same arena that captivated him in his teens -- revitalizing undervalued real
estate. About the same time he was building the softball field next to his
house, Morsberger was eyeing crime-ridden Highpoint Road, just off U.S. 78 near
Snellville. He bought up dozens of four-unit apartment buildings and began
renovating what he called a "bombed-out redneck disaster."
Morsberger galvanized the owners of other nearby
apartments, some of whom had rarely visited the property before. Together they
sodded the dusty flanks of Highpoint, planted flower beds and lined nearly a
mile of the road with sidewalks and Bradford pear trees.
The upgrades paid off. The buildings that
Morsberger had scooped up for $125,000 apiece sold for roughly $300,000 each.
Now he sees Highpoint as a model of what to do on U.S. 78. He envisions the same
kind of lush landscaping and sidewalks -- even a few park benches.
"It's the same thing," he said with his usual
confidence, "only 10 times bigger."
Ambitious agenda
The goals of the Highway 78 Community Improvement
District are ambitious: covert the car-clogged highway of strip malls, auto
dealerships and dangerously confusing traffic patterns into a walkable,
attractive destination.
Business leaders feared an upcoming median
project on U.S. 78, combined with pockets of increasing crime and empty retail
stores, could send the highway into a nose dive much like the one that followed
the installation of a median on nearby Memorial Drive.
A family affair
The redevelopment bug is even spreading through
the Morsberger household. Last summer, his seven daughters, ages 9 to 20, took
out a loan and bought two homes in Lilburn.
"You should have seen the guy at the bank
explaining foreclosure and garnishment to my 9-year-old," said Morsberger, who
was a co-signer on the loan. "Her eyes, they just bulged out of her head."
But like their father, the girls didn't blink.
They painted and planted. And by summer's end, in true Morsberger fashion, the
refurbished homes had sold -- at a $50,000 profit. |