I met Thery “the Houseman” DeClouet for a chat on Election Day, 2000 at his aunt’s house on his Hollygrove home turf. Here, the typically bumpy streets are lined with little houses with fenced-in yards and tiny porches. There’s a certain run-down look to it that you can’t quite put your finger on, like it ended up something not so pretty and peaceful as it was meant to be. It’s a site of relative serenity where the dull bitterness of urban living lingers. For the Houseman, this is home.