James Starks show his emotions during a February day held in his honor in Niagara Falls, N.Y. He’s joined by his parents, James Starks and Lillie Hall, and Mayor Paul Dyster (left). Credit: Buffalo News

By of the

Niagara Falls, N.Y. - This room is typically reserved for solving - or, well, trying to solve - a city's myriad problems. It's gloomy in City Hall. On this day, the room has blurred into a collage of green and yellow.

Nineteen days prior, the Green Bay Packers defeated the Pittsburgh Steelers in the Super Bowl. James Starks, Niagara Falls' native son, is getting the key to the city. Pandemonium replaces complacency. Bliss replaces doom.

In droves, residents pour in from the main lobby. Ignore that "No cellphones allowed" sign at the entrance. Camera phones are hoisted into the air. Everyone here empties a reservoir of emotions. They're crying, screaming, laughing. Standing before them is something different, something this city never sees.

"My brother was calling me, you know, every step of the way, 'Man, they're about to light the whole Niagara Falls up for you,' " said Starks, slightly uncomfortable in the moment. "I was sitting there like, no way, really?"

For a fleeting moment, Niagara Falls, N.Y., is symbolic with opportunity. Not drugs. Not crime. Not gangs. Not 13-year-olds looking for "fast money." Packers running back James Starks resuscitated this small, poverty-ridden city tucked beneath the Canadian border with possibility. This day was proof.

A local assemblyman holds the microphone now.

"You brought honor to us," he says, turning toward Starks. "And we needed it."

One man can't pull an entire city out of economic hell. Fixing Niagara Falls is, many say, an impossible task. Crime is too concentrated here, value systems are too skewed. But family, friends, even the mayor, agree that Starks' stature - his sudden ascension to Super Bowl starter and champion - is the single best remedy for change.

The ceremony ends and Starks' brother, Sanquin, stands in the corner. He lets James soak this in.

"Unbelievable," Sanquin says. "This is unbelievable."

The afterglow of a Super Bowl win nearly turned tragic.

Days after the win, Starks' younger stepbrother stayed over at his grandfather's house. Asleep, Dale Stewart was awakened by noise. There were burglars - with guns - in the house. They had the high school senior's computer, other items and perhaps were about to take his life.

And right when one of the trespassers moved in on Stewart, another spoke up.

"One guy said, 'Leave him alone. That's James Starks' brother,' " Starks said. "It's good. It saved his life. He didn't get shot."

Stewart shook off the incident. "It is what it is," he says. Not Starks. He grasped the significance of this. Slouched inside his locker in Green Bay, he shakes his head. His stature, his mere presence as "James Starks, Super Bowl champ" saved a life.

Not just any life. His brother's life.

"His life was spared," Starks said. "That's it. They could have shot him."

The sad thing is this isn't an isolated incident. Countless cities throughout the country cope with crime, with drugs. Niagara Falls is every bit that cliché. While Niagara Falls, Ontario, flourishes, Niagara Falls, N.Y., decays. A recent BusinessWeek article says the median household income in the city is only $30,000 - 40% below the national average. One-fifth of the city's residents live below the poverty line.

The crux of the problem is no distinction between the "good" and "bad" parts of town. Whereas a city like Detroit suffers similar problems, with a median income of about $29,000, it's also 15 times bigger. There are outlets.

Niagara Falls has only 50,000 residents. The 49 gangs and 525 documented gang members in the city wield a stronger influence.

"The culture, for some reason, seems to glorify being a criminal," Niagara Falls Detective Lt. Nicholas Paonessa said. "That's what (kids) see in the neighborhood. The people with flash, with money, are the criminals. So when they grow up, that's the standard they look at."

Paonessa pointed to one recent Facebook investigation that revealed a picture of a 13-year-old boy in a bandanna. Configuring a gang sign with his fingers, the boy held an AK-47 with piles of money stacked around him. Only, the photo was fake. The boy had digitally cropped pictures together to make his pitch to a gang.

That's what he aspired to. That's the norm. Paonessa has caught drug dealers in sixth grade.

"Kids look out the window every morning and they see drug dealers and crime," Paonessa said. "That's what they associate with. They don't have people to emulate. It's sad."

Starks realizes he could have been that boy. Growing up in the Unity Park housing projects, crime and drugs ran rampant. Up close - several times - he has witnessed people getting shot.

"I've seen dudes get shot right in front of me," Starks said. "I've seen people get shot in the stomach in clubs or around clubs."

He sidestepped the pitfalls. Starks credits Sanquin and his mother, Lillie Hall. As kids, the two brothers didn't dare leave the house if she wasn't around.

Starks' worst crime? Egging. As a high school senior, he loved to test his speed. Starks hurled eggs at moving vehicles. They'd get ticked. He'd run. That's it.

"You have to have a mind of your own," Starks said. "I always knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to be different."

The breakout

It's an attitude more than anything. A mind-set. The mayor admits it himself.

As a city, Niagara Falls is quick to give up.

"We're our own worst enemy," Mayor Paul Dyster said. "We can be defeatists. If we're working on a project and something starts to go wrong, it's just like a sports team that's used to losing. The fans start walking out at halftime."

The script was flipped during Green Bay's run to the Super Bowl. He's not "James" back home. He's "Buck," a nickname taken from his father. And Buck's story resonates with the entire city. The community followed his ups and downs - from potential second-round pick as a junior at the University at Buffalo to missing his entire senior season with a shoulder injury to nose-diving in the draft.

With one 123-yard shredding of the Philadelphia Eagles in last year's wild-card round, downtrodden Niagara Falls woke up 750 miles away.

In the high school, football coach Donald Bass had Starks-themed shirts made. He ordered 1,200, sent one mass email through the school district and all shirts were gone within two hours. Bass ordered 500 more. Those were gone in an instant.

In the city, Dyster had the actual Niagara Falls lit up in green and gold with spotlights. Bars were packed. Children and adults alike wore cheeseheads.

There's no magic-wand legislative solution. Dyster himself called the city's current economic state "humiliating." During the Packers' playoff run - with each win, each carry - the mood changed.

"The fact that he was able to do that gives them hope," Dyster said. "Not just in athletics. It gives them hope that they can be successful in whatever they do. 'If he can do that, I can be a lawyer. If he can do that, I can be a doctor.' "

The Packers were winning. Starks was running. Look closely and crime was dissipating.

"I don't have stats right now to see how much it has changed," Paonessa said, "but I have talked to people that say that has had a positive effect."

And that's with, you know, four games under his belt.

"Knock on wood," said Dyster, pausing, "but he's just getting started."

The opportunity

Of course, this city-on-his-back blueprint has its precedents. Tim Winn, Modie Cox, Paul Harris, Jonny Flynn, the list is long. All experienced some form of the same baptism.

Winn remembers exiting the 13th Street Center in Niagara Falls with a friend. It was another day of basketball for the 7-year-old, another day of child innocence in the mid-'80s. The two walked to the end of the block and - three small houses away - they noticed a car slowly creeping behind another pedestrian walking down the street.

A man parked, left his vehicle and shot the passer-by point blank with a double-barrel shotgun.

"We just kept walking home," Winn said. "It was norm. We weren't fazed by it."

Today, that friend walking with Winn is in prison. Dozens upon dozens of Winn's childhood friends toil behind bars. He went on to lead St. Bonaventure to a near upset of Kentucky in the 2000 NCAA Tournament.

No, James Starks is not the first athlete to tilt the spotlight toward Niagara Falls. Potential vehicles of change have motored through the city for years. Each athlete's star has faded.

After a successful basketball career at the University at Buffalo, Cox spent eight months in jail on drug trafficking charges. He has since started the mentoring program, "Winning Because I Tried" in western New York. Harris spent three seasons at Syracuse and now plays pro ball in the Philippines. Flynn, Starks' cousin, was a fifth overall draft pick but is now trying to revive his NBA career with the Houston Rockets.

As for Winn, he lives with his family in Charlotte, N.C., as a business analyst for Bank of America. He won't be in Niagara Falls any time soon.

"I have a 15-year-old stepson," Winn said. "I'll be damned if I raise him in Niagara Falls. What if he doesn't want to play sports? What extracurricular activity is popular besides the streets, for a 15- or 16-year-old kid?"

Yet, in Starks, Winn sees a glimmer of hope. Starks can do something a mayor cannot. Starks has the Super Bowl ring, the visibility, the squeaky clean history. After Harris won a title overseas, his welcome home party at the Rapids Theatre was canceled for what he decried as the police's fear of gang violence.

Thing is, a welcome home party for Starks was held at the same location earlier this year. His reputation is, indeed, different.

In Starks, Winn ponders, maybe Niagara Falls has a chance.

"Even if it's just for a split-second, he makes you want to do good," Winn said. "It makes you want to do things by the book. Imagine if you had 1,000 James Starks, as doctors, lawyers, no matter what it is and no matter where you looked, you'd bump into one of these guys."

First, James Starks must embrace the potential of James Starks.

A responsibility

When Starks returned home after the Super Bowl - somewhere between that break-in and getting the key to the city - his old coach Bass pulled him aside.

"Listen," he told him. This stardom is fleeting. He cannot let it pass. Right here, right now Starks has a duty to his city.

"At some point, you'll become 'Buck' again," Bass told him. "But right now, everybody sees 'James Starks.' Embrace this and use this to motivate people. I know it's uncomfortable, but this isn't about you.

"It's about making that next generation believe."

This is the challenge. Starks is humble, almost too humble. He's reluctant to stand before the masses. When a new Buffalo Wild Wings opened in the city, he attended a VIP party but told Bass he didn't want to go to the larger, more public ribbon-cutting ceremony if he had to speak.

The day arrived, anybody who's anybody in the Niagara area attended and Starks was MIA.

"It's very uncomfortable for him," said Bass, glancing off into the crowd. "Very new territory. I think he understands the importance of this all. I think he'll get there."

Starks shies away from crowds in public, Bass said. When people ask for autographs, he's often "taken aback." During the lockout, Starks kept to himself. He did talk to juvenile delinquents in western New York. If kids are involved, Starks said he'll speak every time. But for the most part, he banished himself to the weight room.

Following a gluten-free diet, Starks came to training camp eight pounds heavier. His focus on the field has never been clearer. Bass wants him to see the big picture.

The coach always saw leadership ability in Starks. In high school, Starks was the one breaking up fights. When he spoke up, everyone listened.

"He had that kind of effect," Bass said. "He's different. He's always been different. He just stands out."

This role is simply brand new. He never saw this coming.

Sanquin remembers sitting next to his brother at another key to the city ceremony, this one for Jonny Flynn two years ago. As Sanquin said, James "was almost an afterthought" in the city. Shoulder surgery had just robbed him of his senior year at Buffalo - and millions of dollars in the NFL.

"And he said, 'One day, I'm going to do something like this,' " Sanquin said.

The time is now

James Starks has always been the Clint Eastwood of the family. He never cries. Not after Buffalo's improbable Mid-American Conference championship win. Not after getting drafted. Not after winning the Super Bowl.

When he received the key to the city, Starks told himself to stay strong. His voice began to crack. His sentences became fragmented. And clutching a napkin, Starks wiped away tears of joy for the first time ever.

"You realize how big it is," Starks said. "Not many people do it. To have a day named after you, it was pretty special."

Thursday night's 42-34 win over the New Orleans Saints was another reminder of Starks' potential. He rushed for 57 yards on 12 punishing carries with a touchdown. Last season was about getting noticed. This season is about something else.

"I'm trying to be great," Starks said. "I want to be one of the best backs to play in the National Football League."

After the game, Sanquin waited two hours for his brother in the family lounge at the stadium. Buck showed up, flashed that megawatt smile, and asked how he looked out there. On the 17-yard touchdown run, phenomenal. On the last-gasp Lambeau Leap into the first row, that's up for debate.

"I told him he looked tired," Sanquin said. "He just made it over."

Sanquin plans eventually to live with James at his house in Green Bay. He'll be a daily reminder to stay focused, to remember his Niagara Falls community.

Maybe Starks is shy. Maybe he's still learning to embrace this all. But one thing has never changed - Buck refuses to cut and run from Niagara Falls. This is his city. He wants to be someone who brings tangible change. If he ever ran for mayor, Starks said he'd "help as many lives as I could. Period." Fame will not tug Starks away from the malaise back home.

Less than two hours after Green Bay's Super Bowl win, Starks took to Facebook. The punctuation was incorrect. The use of upper and lower case was sporadic. The meaning, clear.

"NIAGARrA FALLS what up!!!!!!!!!"

Within 15 minutes, 115 people "liked" it and there were 57 comments underneath it. Starks knows where's he from and he's proud of it.

For now, that's more than enough.

"I just don't want to fail my hometown," he said. "It doesn't look like anything good comes from there, so I try to do my best to show talent is there."