There’s a photo buried in the Norwood News archives taken over a decade ago, but completely relevant today. It’s that of an abandoned hatchback vehicle, its windows shattered and bodywork charred, found blocking the entrance to a rundown city-owned lot on Decatur Avenue and Oliver Place. By the looks of it, the vehicle plowed into the space, and was left to rot.

The photo of the lot, which residents have long hoped would become a playground, was taken circa 2000. Sadly, had the picture been taken today, you could hardly tell the difference—the lot’s condition has stood virtually the same. And despite pleas from neighbors to see it revamped into a much-needed playground, no movement has been evident. It’s as though time remains frozen there.

The ignorance by the powerful on this issue is disgraceful. Kids play among the tiny wasteland (as did their parents), where addicts are known to shoot up and the homeless find a temporary refuge. The blight adds to the perception that a largely minority, working-poor community with no nearby amenities is left behind even as tales of a Bronx on the mend continue.

For a time, the efforts of Sally Young, a neighborhood resident, achieved results. The large piles of garbage dumped by restaurant employees ceased. Cleanup events were sponsored, though the outreach merely put a Band-Aid on a nagging wound. The real cure is investment in this eyesore.

Local lawmakers suggested converting the space into a playground, a good start. But for some reason, this medium-sized plot has long been a bureaucratic hot potato. Two city agencies have expressed reasons why it can’t be done: the New York City Environmental Protection Agency said there’s underground infrastructure it needs direct access to, while the Department of Parks blames the impasse on the park’s inclined design. Plus, the $4.5 million estimate to convert the space to a playground has hampered any advancement. Blame can be passed around. One building abutting the space has an addition, which Parks said creeps into their space. The only way to move, Parks says conveniently, is by convincing the owner to reduce his space.

Community Board 7 residents have since taken up the matter, yet again, urging city agencies to act. But the Board’s role as an advisory panel has its limitations. Still, their attempts at fixing it are admirable, far exceeding those of agency heads who think lip service is currency for getting a pat on the back.

It’s up to elected officials to really drive change and see this space turned into a much-needed playground, a refuge for kids where recreation is scant. There should be jungle gyms to stimulate the blood vessels, a sprinkler system to keep them cool in summer, and a meeting point for burgeoning friendships. At the very least, perhaps elected officials can arrive at a compromise to this complicated issue—perhaps a well-manicured Greenstreet with a concrete staircase leading to the other side of Oliver Place and Marion Avenue.

When Community Board 7 convenes in September, it’s incumbent upon them to turn up the volume on fixing the derelict park. Hopefully a photo of children running happily can replace one of an abandoned car.