He goes home just after the last commuters shut their garage doors for the night.

The hours, from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. many days, stink. But they're necessary when you're filling a seemingly insatiable need for new homes. And when your ultimate goal is to join the middle-class enclave you're working so hard to build.

``This is it.'' Barksdale laughs and props his black Nike socks up on the glass coffee table of a model home. ``This is where I want to be. This is the life I want.''

The eight houses Barksdale is currently in charge of building in the Hampton Ridge subdivision, about a mile east of Exit 25, will all sell for more than $160,000.

They are typical of the area: brick homes with tall ceilings, big bathrooms and plenty of closet space.

All are larger than the house Barksdale, a St. Lawrence Homes site manager, shared with his parents and two brothers back in Faison, a small Duplin County crossroads. He grew up in a working-class black neighborhood, surrounded by family.

``I can't imagine a better place to raise kids. Nobody was rich there, but you always had a sense that everybody was seeking the same things out of life.''

That sense of community is exactly what Barksdale hopes to find at Exit 25. Just like the white families whose moving vans pull in daily, he's chasing the suburban dream of a big house, well-kept yard, two-car garage -- and a feeling of security about the future he's providing for his family.

He plans to have his own house built at Hampton Ridge by summer.

``I don't care if you're black or white, you want the best possible lifestyle for your family. The people I live next door to are going to be the people whose houses I built. Regardless of color, we all have the same dream.''

Other construction superintendents and site managers tell stories about not being able to sleep, not being able to eat as they struggle to get houses built within the typical 120-day schedule. They pop antacids like candy and drink Pepto Bismol like water, chain smoke as they talk about how difficult it is to find trained subcontractors and meet ever-tighter deadlines in Charlotte's swamped housing market.

Barksdale, however, sleeps better than his 1-year-old daughter and doesn't fear missing deadline. He's part of a new generation of construction workers, one that's blurring the line between blue-collar building crews and their white-collar clients.

``Why worry, man? You can't fight Mother Nature. All you can do is work hard and hope for the best.''

He used a basketball scholarship to get a business management degree from Mount Olive College, then chose construction work over retail because he thought it would allow him to use his creativity and his people skills.

Not, like many of his older colleagues, because it was the only thing he could think to do.

``In retail, I thought I could go a long way there, maybe become a manager or something. But there was no sense of accomplishment.''

Now he's leaving a lasting mark on the world -- cul-de-sacs and cathedral ceilings -- and dreaming big. He wants three kids, a big house, his own firm.

`` `Barksdale Construction,' you have to like the sound of that.'' He grins and rests his feet for another moment. ``I can see myself really settling down for good in a place like this.''

Barksdale and his wife like Exit 25 so much they already live here. They're apartment dwellers, renting a two-bedroom unit just a mile down Sam Furr Road.

Like so many of their suburban neighbors, they visit the massive NorthCross complex for meals, haircuts, doctor's appointments, groceries. Downtown Huntersville -- and, for that matter, uptown Charlotte -- don't figure into their daily lives.

To a longtime Charlotte resident, this lifestyle may seem foreign. But for those who live here, Exit 25 offers the essentials -- and it marks the end of a long search for the good life.

Tomorrow: The mom

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