Cultural Attractions in Delray Beach and Boca Raton

Boca Raton and Delray Beach punch well above their weight class when it comes to culture. Both cities are home to museums, world class libraries, art exhibits, concerts, dance, theater and more.

Most of the time you won’t have to leave home, but if you do the greater South Florida area features some of the best cultural venues and opportunities in the world.

Quality Time Remaining….

 

Thomas Friedman has an interesting business card.

I have only just a minute,

 

Only sixty seconds in it.

 

Forced upon me, can’t refuse it.

 

Didn’t seek it, didn’t choose it.

 

But it’s up to me

 

to use it.

 

I must suffer if I lose it.

 

Give account if I abuse it.

 

Just a tiny little minute,

 

but eternity is in it. — Benjamin Mays.

 

I woke up early last Thursday and the name Benjamin Mays was in my head.

Sometimes, things like that happen to me.  It’s weird.

I’ll get an idea or wake up with a song on my mind and sometimes I’ll see a face or think of a name.

I know who Benjamin Mays is…he was the minister who gave the eulogy at MLK’s funeral. But I don’t know why I woke up thinking about him. I had to stop and think about it.

The poem above has two names “God’s Minute” and “Just a Minute.” In a few lines, Rev. Mays speaks to how fleeting life is and how we are called to make the most of the small blip of time we’re given. It makes you think and it forces you to ponder priorities.

The day before, my dad and I went to Florida Atlantic University to hear a lecture from three time Pulitzer Prize winning columnist Thomas Friedman. It was an interesting time to hear Friedman considering the state of our world and the war in Ukraine. Friedman has had a bird’s eye of view of world affairs for close to 30 years. He has known just about every player there is to know, and he has seen how our world is “flat” and therefore how trends knit together.

He spends his time thinking and writing about the big stuff.

Many of us, get lost in the small stuff. We miss the forest because we are deep in the weeds.

Friedman covered a lot of ground in his 90 minutes. He’s a remarkable thinker and deeply experienced.

But I came away with two thoughts from the Friedman experience.

First, the leaders who will make a difference in our world are those who tell the truth and build trust.

Think about that for a moment.

How many of our leaders tell us the truth and how many give us their spin or their “alternative facts?”

How many of our leaders build trust so that we can believe in our institutions and know that our values are respected and protected?

Second, the two most powerful forces in politics today are humiliation and dignity.

We all fear humiliation and we all want dignity.

Friedman believes so much in the power of those words and emotions that he often refers to himself as The New York Times’ “Humiliation and Dignity Columnist.” The title is on his business card.

Says Friedman:

“Humiliation, in my view, is the most underestimated force in politics and international relations. The poverty of dignity explains so much more behavior than the poverty of money. People will absorb hardship, hunger and pain. They will be grateful for jobs, cars and benefits. But if you make people feel humiliated, they will respond with a ferocity unlike any other emotion, or just refuse to lift a finger for you.

By contrast, if you show people respect, if you affirm their dignity, it is amazing what they will let you say to them or ask of them. Sometimes it just takes listening to them, but deep listening — not just waiting for them to stop talking. Because listening is the ultimate sign of respect. What you say when you listen speaks more than any words.”

Think about this concept in terms of Vladimir Putin, who feels deep humiliation over the collapse of the Soviet Union. And think about this concept the next time your City Commission or Council makes a mean-spirited decision and refuses to talk about it.  Was that decision driven by some desire to heal humiliation (or inflict it) and will that decision humiliate others?

In Friedman’s view, politics is the quest for dignity.

If we read the “Just A Minute” poem and absorb its profound and moving message, we are called to achieve with the little time we are given.

We are challenged to lift up, not humiliate. We are tasked with building trust and dignity.

People who divide and polarize, who invade, destroy, and seek to humiliate others are not leaders. They are the problem. And we must do our best to make sure they never get the levers of power because they will abuse not serve.

Remembering a dear friend

Bob Levinson

Last week, we sent our condolences to the family of John Gallo, a wonderful man and big contributor to Lynn University.

This week, we remember and send condolences to the family of Robert Levinson, one of Mr. Gallo’s best friends. The two—who called themselves the young and the restless—worked side by side for decades at Lynn.

Bob Levinson passed within days of his friend. He was a month shy of his 97th birthday.

Bob was a friend of mine and a wonderful man. I served on the Delray City Commission with his son Jon and Bob and I had grown close over the years.

For a few years, we shared office space and I enjoyed seeing and chatting with Bob about world affairs.

He had a curious mind, worked until he was 90, wrote several books on business and management and never stopped learning. He was an inspiring man who enjoyed success in a wide variety of businesses ranging from hotels to manufacturing.

Bob cared deeply about the world and his community. He was philanthropic, generous, smart, experienced and well read.

I will miss his smile, our conversations, his take on the world and most of all his example.

What a special man.

He will be deeply missed by all who knew him.

Odds and Ends

Congratulations to the Delray Beach Public Library for a very successful (and fun) “Laughs With the Library” event at the spectacular Opal Grand last week.

Comedian Pat McGann headlined the show which was hosted by our very own Frank McKinney.

 

Congratulations also to the newly seated Greater Delray Beach Chamber of Commerce board of directors.

Chair David Schmidt passed the gavel to Vivian DeMille who gave a terrific speech on the importance of heart and soul in leadership.

Lord knows we can use more of both here and throughout the world.

Finally, #prayersforukraine

 

Adventures In Writing…

It has been said that writing is a lonely endeavor. But I find it to be a joyous exercise.

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”

– Anaïs Nin

 

I have always loved to write.

I find it relaxing and cathartic.

Whenever I have a strong emotion—stress, anger, happiness, excitement, sadness—my first inclination is always to find a corner and write.

I’ve had fallow periods where the words didn’t come easy, but I can honestly say I’ve never been blocked. The words just flow. Sometimes the prose is terrible, but the well never runs dry and with patience I can usually get something to sound reasonably passable.

I write to order my thoughts, to quiet a busy mind and because I like the interaction I get.

Some of you comment on the blog itself, some of you text or email me and some of you comment on social media. I enjoy it all. Thank you and please keep it coming.

A few years back, I wrote a book about my experiences in Delray entitled “Adventures in Local Politics.”

The book was my attempt to capture my story of coming to Delray Beach and working as a local reporter before deciding to run for office in 2000. I wanted to get it all down before the years dimmed my memories. I wanted to leave something for my children to read and I wanted the book to be a resource for other people who may want to run for local office.

I was proud of the book and although I had no expectations and only limited time to spend on promotion, the book found a niche. Students in an urban planning class at FAU used to buy it, people I met in business would sometimes order it on Amazon and a few candidates from near and far managed to find it.

I appreciated their support.

The publishing company I used went belly up during Covid and I found out that other than buying used copies online, the book would be out of print. Since I still get the stray request for a book, I didn’t want that.

So, after a few inquiries I signed a deal with a California publisher. I’m going to do three books: we just finished an updated version of “Adventures” which includes some stuff on Covid, then I’m going to flesh out a book I’ve already written about my relationship with a well-known local entrepreneur and finally I’m going to team up with some colleagues on a book called “Letters to a Candidate” which is underway.

Here’s the introduction.

Please let me know your thoughts. And thanks for reading this blog, which is a labor of love that allows me to clear the cobwebs every Monday morning.

 

Letter to a candidate…

Once upon a time, we used to admire just about every candidate who threw his or her hat in the ring.

Running for office is not easy and we respect that.

Campaigning is grueling, nasty, and personal. There are easier ways to serve your community. So, we had some reverence for those who stepped up and put

themselves out there.

Not anymore.

We’ve seen too many bad candidates.

We’ve suffered too many fools, egomaniacs, buffoons, narcissists and empty suits.

We’ve seen the damage they’ve done.

We’ve also seen the opportunities they’ve squandered and frankly we’re tired. Bad politicians make us cranky.

We’ve all seen the memes and the funny Gif’s poking fun at the clown car of elected officials who embarrass themselves (and us) with their bad behavior,

failure to get anything done and inability to serve the people they promise to help. Yes, we’ve laughed and yes, we’ve shared a few jokes ourselves.

But when you think about it,  poor leadership isn’t funny, it’s tragic.

In the case of war or pandemic, poor leadership gets people killed.

On a local level, you may not be making life or death decisions every day, but if you tolerate a bad Police Department or fail to invest in Fire Rescue services you can cause people to die.

Yes, serving as an elected official is a big responsibility. So, while we are glad you are thinking about taking the plunge, we think you ought to know a few things.

That’s why we’ve written these letters to you.

Each letter contains a lesson that we’ve learned through practice as former elected officials and through observation as involved and engaged citizens who have been keeping an eye on all levels of government for decades.

We’ve seen the great ones. The special people who move mountains and leave a positive legacy for others to build upon—or destroy.

We’ve seen the ones who could have been great but fell short.

And we’ve seen the ones who have made a mess of things.

What you are about to read is a distillation of our combined knowledge and what we’ve learned from others who have served.

Over our many decades inside and outside the arena, we have known council members, mayors, county commissioners, state legislators, members of Congress, governors, cabinet officers, senators and we’ve even seen a president or two up close. We’ve also met a slew of presidential candidates during their trips to voter rich South Florida.

As former elected officials who remained involved in the community we are also often called upon by aspirants and office holders who want advice, endorsements and money—not necessarily in that order.

This is the book we’ll hand to them now that it’s written.

We wish that this book existed back 20 years ago when we ran for local office in Delray Beach, Florida. It might have saved us some pain and heartache over the years.

We hope you will learn from our mistakes and the mistakes of others. Along the way, we did get a few things right as well. We’ll share a few case studies on themes that you are likely to encounter as you begin your journey.

Enjoy and thanks for being interested in serving.

 

Note to readers:

We’d like to send our condolences to the Gallo family upon the passing of John Gallo Jr. February 12.

Mr. Gallo was a wonderful man, with a great sense of humor. He will be deeply missed by his many friends and admirers.

I got to know John through Lynn University where he worked over 30 years after a successful career in retail management. Mr. Gallo was the GM of the Jordan Marsh store in Boca Raton before joining the staff at Lynn.

He was active at St. Jude Catholic Church and at the Boca Raton Chamber of Commerce. He was also a proud member of the Boca Raton Sunrise Rotary Club.

A line from his obituary grabbed me: “We will miss our father greatly; he defined what it meant to be a good husband, father, and friend.”

You can’t do better than that.

Rest in Peace my friend.

 

A Valentine & A Letter Too

We can sure use some can’t we?

Note: A couple of things.

First, we want to offer our heartfelt condolences to the Randolph family on the loss of their beloved matriarch Mary.

Mrs. Randolph passed last week, a day after her 64th wedding anniversary to her sweetheart David.

David and Mary Randolph are local legends. David served two stints during two different eras on the city commission and became forever known as “the commissioner” to his legions of admirers. But Mrs. Randolph was a force in her own right.  She was universally admired and known for her strength and devotion to her family and community. She will be dearly missed.

This week, I wanted to wish you all a Happy Valentine’s Day and wrap up my recent obsession with the fate of Old School Square with a Valentine to its founder and an open letter to our City Manager. Unless something grabs me and compels me to write, we will let this story unfold in the courts and ultimately at the ballot box. Meanwhile, thanks for your overwhelming response to this series of essays on OSS. Your comments mean a lot and are deeply appreciated. So here goes..

 

I want to send a heartfelt  Valentine to someone who is very special to all of us.

Her name is Frances Bourque and she happens to be the founder of Old School Square.

But she is so much more than that to those of us who love her. She’s a leader. She’s an inspiration and she’s a case study in grace.

She’s also a fighter even though her first million instincts would be to seek peace before conflict.

But she’s also adept at standing her ground. When faced with adversity she summons reserves that few others possess and it is that strength that I and so many others have come to deeply admire.

Frances has not had an easy six months.

Her life’s work, Old School Square, has been threatened by three members of a City Commission who just don’t appreciate what that place means to this community. OSS had the doors locked on their generosity and creativity last week. Another mean spirited insult hurled at the community non-profit six months after a 3-2 vote terminated their lease after 32 years of dedicated service to Delray.

I can’t get in the  head space of the mayor and two commissioners who made this decision; 11,000 plus petitioners who objected can’t either, but what bothers me most is that none of the three have managed to say a kind word about Frances.

It’s shameful.

But this is a Valentine, so let me say a few kind words.

First, we stand on the shoulders of those who came before us.

That’s why 8 former mayors jumped at the chance to sign a letter because they valued Frances’ creation and ideas.

Many of us have benefitted from Frances’ wisdom, advice and inspiration.

None more than me. Maybe a few equal, but none more.

I have adored Frances for three decades, hung on her every word and found a way forward as a result.

As someone who is passionate about leadership, I’m in awe of Frances’ affect on people. Her ability to motivate, inspire and get us to think that anything was possible.

It was those skills that enabled her to gain support to restore a dilapidated old school that catalyzed the rebirth of our city.

It’s ironic that her unique  ability to spell out and sell a vision fell on deaf ears and hardened hearts. But that’s not Frances’ fault or shortcoming. This failure to get together and save a treasured community asset is on the city.

What a sad time this is. We are so divided. We are so lost.

Some are so lost they don’t even know they are lost. Nope, just the opposite, they beat their chest as a treasured asset goes dark. Wow.

But through these last miserable months. Through all the lies. Through all the indignities that really make the city look bad, I have been watching Frances and the rest of the board and staff of Old School Square.

These are some really special people.

They have been surrounded by love and support from a great cross section of the community and that has given them strength.

They leave with their heads held high.

Nobody is giving up. Least of all Frances.

If anything, these travails have made us realize once again how much she is loved and valued.

When we lack love and empathy in our community as we do now, we value love and empathy even more.

When the darkness comes, as it did last week, when the city came with locks to make sure those who really love the place can’t have access anymore, we search for light.

Frances is the brightest of those lights.

She deserves a Valentine’s from all who value what this town was and could be again. So happy Valentine’s Day Frances. We love and appreciate you more now than ever.

Now for the letter…

Dear City Manager Moore,

We haven’t met.

I did write to welcome you to town when you got the job.

I also emailed you when you sent a letter to the community about Old School Square that I thought was “political”. I wanted to caution you that being political is the easiest way for a City Manager to lose their job. Since you are the 9th manager to serve in the post since David Harden retired in 2012 (after 22 years on the job) it’s fair to say that your role comes with a fair amount of risk.

Many of your predecessors have left on bad terms, filing lawsuits after they’ve been axed. They’ve found that road difficult and expensive. There really is something to be said about the old adage: “you can’t fight City Hall.”

After all, we have to fight with our own money, while the city gets to use the taxpayer’s money.

This sure is a good town for lawyers, especially one firm, which seems to get a great deal of business.

But I digress.

This letter is an offer to help.

It has been six months since the Commission voted 3-2 to terminate Old School Square, the community non-profit that ran that complex on the corner of Atlantic and Swinton for 32 years. 3-2, and 32—kind of ironic how that works.

Anyway, it seems like you’ve had some difficulty figuring out what to do with OSS which was programmed by volunteers right up until the city showed up with police and put locks on the doors February 10.

Question: Can we the citizens also call on our police to enforce our leases?

Just asking.

Sorry, I’m veering off topic.

Again, it seems like there’s been some puzzling over what to do with the buildings now that the folks who created the place have been kicked to the curb.

You issued a Request for Proposals that for some reason didn’t include the Cornell Museum and nobody responded.

Have you ever been to the Cornell?

It was nice, especially when Margaret Blume stepped up with a generous gift to make it look spectacular. She also made a big donation to redo the Crest Theatre and to build a much needed and long coveted commercial kitchen. That project was stopped dead in its tracks, a month before completion. Did that make sense? It was paid for, now we the taxpayers will have to pay for it. All of this is lost on me and about 11,000 others who signed a petition asking the city to slow down and talk.

Oh well. That ship has sailed.

I was in the Cornell a day before you guys put the locks on the building and the museum was stripped bare. Walls that were once adorned with beautiful art are now empty. The building seemed sad, is that possible?  I think it is. It’s as if its soul was removed and I guess it has been, hasn’t it?

I know you may not agree with me (and 11,000 others who feel that this was a terrible decision) or you’re not allowed to agree. I do understand how your job works. You’re tasked with carrying out the will of the majority of your bosses—those three elected officials who voted to terminate. That can’t be easy.

But after 6 months and an RFP that produced a goose egg, it seems like you are still fishing around for a solution so I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest one.

But before I do, I understand you are being pitched a rich consulting deal from somebody with big experience in the corporate side of entertainment. I’m sure he’s a great asset, but I would caution you about expenses and cutting the public out of this process. Losing the community non-profit is a big deal, turning the place over to a for-profit interest or an out of town non-profit would also be a blow to our community. I’d also watch for expenses, historically the non-profit you guys kicked to the curb raised 75-80 percent of the expenses. A city run facility would take on 100 percent of the costs. I guess you could raise ticket prices, but remember OSS offered free and heavily subsidized entertainment options.

Anyway, once again, here’s a thought to consider.

It’s a radical idea but I know you must get a lot of those. I was once a public official, and I actually kept a file of some of the more creative concepts that came across my desk. My favorite was from a guy who wanted to pave over the sand on the beach because it would allow for greater access to the ocean for those who didn’t want to get sand in their shoes. We passed on that one.

I hope you think this idea is a little better. Here goes.

How about we create a community-based non-profit consisting of local volunteers who love Delray? The non-profit can seek donations from philanthropists, sponsorships from businesses and can sell tickets to offset 80 percent or so of the city’s costs.

I think this business model might just work. It may be worth a try.

Delray Beach was built by dedicated citizens who are passionate about the community. Old School Square can serve as a gathering place for our community. We may want to host free Friday night concerts, program the theatre, host exhibits, offer classes and use the fieldhouse for special events. If we finish the commercial kitchen, we may attract more weddings etc., and we can train the next generation of culinary talent to serve our burgeoning restaurant scene.

It seems like the city has an urge to take on more and more these days, so maybe there can be a partnership between the city and this community non-profit where you provide some operational and financial acumen.

It may be worth a shot.

Now this may seem to be eerily similar to what has worked for 32 years, but I assure you that’s pure coincidence.

Thanks for your kind consideration.

Warmest Regards,

Jeff Perlman

 

 

The Final Chapter Yet To Be Written

Old School Square has inspired a generation of artists in Delray.

People make places special.That was the thought that went through my mind Friday night as I watched the magnificent Valerie Tyson Band wow the crowd at the Old School Square Pavilion. The event was billed as “Turn the Tide”— a last ditch effort by a group of incredible civic contributors—the best this town has to offer—to change the minds of three Delray Beach elected officials who have decided to pull the plug on the organization after 32 years of dedicated and distinguished service.

But the minds won’t change. And so the music will stop—for now anyway.

So will the arts classes, museum exhibits, speaker series, plays and shows hosted— and largely paid for— by Old School Square.After six months of pleading for  a chance to sit down and work it out,  the fight will now go to the courts and eventually the ballot box.If 11,000 plus petitioners, hundreds of emails and scores of citizens showing up at City Hall over the past six months won’t change  the minds of elected officials who are out of step with their own constituents, a magical night of music at the pavilion won’t either.How sad.What a waste of time, money and energy.

It’s tragic when the arts and community building are on the outs and the only “winners” are lawyers making a killing litigating and defending the city on this and other issues.But this is where we are these days.Yes, we are still waiting for a plan from a brand new City Manager who has been tasked with solving and budgeting for a problem manufactured by three elected officials who decided to end three decades of hard work by volunteers who love this town without consulting the community they purport to serve.Why?

On Friday night, we saw video testimonials from volunteers, Old School Square staff, donors and artists who are asking that same question.

Commissioner Juli Casale, who supposedly aspires to be our next mayor, has been telling residents that Old School Square has not produced documents, has failed to comply with city dictates and that the group has been mean and unkind after she voted to kick to them to the curb without consulting the public.Well, welcome to politics and to life. In the real world, when you kneecap someone you shouldn’t be surprised when they  defend themselves.

“Thank you sir may I have another” may be a great line in the movie Animal House after a pledge gets spanked. But this isn’t Faber College and you shouldn’t expect dedicated volunteers to slink off into the ether because you’ve decided you don’t like them and that they haven’t done a good job. Lots of others do like this group and think they have done a terrific job.

In the six months since OSS was booted for “no cause” the community non-profit has been bullied and lied about.The newly politicized CRA —also taken over without public input by the commission—has become complicit. It’s painful to see the pains the agency has gone through to deny Old School Square grant money the non-profit has earned for services already rendered.

To those keeping score at home, it’s personally painful for me to point out the bad behavior of a city government that I once led and long believed in.But it is precisely because I love this city that I do so.

Thankfully, I’m not alone.

And while more stakeholders are beginning to speak out, some are too scared to speak for fear of retribution.The biggest criticisms come from city employees who describe a a climate of fear and dysfunction at City Hall. I would respectfully suggest that our new City Manager, the 9th in recent years, has better things to do than to deploy Parks employees to produce Bar Mitzvahs in the OSS Fieldhouse. He has a lot of repairs to do in his own building.

But while I sympathize with his plight, we keep waiting for his grand plan for OSS now that his Request for Proposals to take it over yielded zero interest.He may want to take the suggestions of every living former mayor— those who were elected and served a term— to seek public input on the future of the site. That’s the true Delray way. Get the community involved. It worked for decades until this nonsense arrived on the scene. Why won’t they ask our citizens for ideas?

Is it because the public may endorse the current business model: a community based non-profit?But I digress.

Pardon me for getting emotional, but I get worked up when I see our best citizens struggle to make sense of this terrible decision. In between songs Friday night, Valerie Tyson, who has played OSS many times, stopped and addressed the audience. She talked about how much she has enjoyed performing for this community and she talked about legacy and responsibility.

We stand on the shoulders of those who came before us, she said.

She was referring to the men and women who conceived and built Old School Square. They breathed new life into a struggling city.These people built community. There is nothing more valuable than that. Nothing.

We talk about being a village. We talk about creating a sense of place but being a village is about more than the height of a building downtown, it’s about how we treat each other. We expect our leaders to call on our better angels. We expect them to engage us in a discussion about the type of community we aspire to be.

This kind of leadership is absent and it is what we long for.

OSS has been referred to as a management company.

They are not.

They are a community based non-profit dedicated to this city and the arts.These are the people who had the idea to restore those buildings and breathe new life into them. They invited artists to paint on the lawn, actors to perform on the stage, residents to take classes and musicians to perform.

Old School Square became the place we turned to when we needed community the most.

We gathered at OSS to celebrate All America City wins, host Town Hall meetings and plan our downtown.  And when we were devastated by 9/11, the shooting of Jerrod Miller (17 years ago this month) and the Parkland shootings we gathered at Old School Square and found solace in one another.

If you take the community out of our gathering place, what do you have?

If you bring in the Boca Museum of Art in to run OUR cultural centerpiece what do you have? And what we will lose?

If you chase donors and volunteers away because they were late on an audit during an historic pandemic when their auditor quit on them what message are you sending?

The audits are current and clean now. Why can’t we talk about the future? It’s a question we all ought to be asking. Who’s next if we don’t stand together and turn the tide?People make places special. They also have the power to ruin them.It’s our choice. We stand for what we tolerate.

Two Bright Lights Gone

NYPD Officers Rivera and Mora. RIP.

Two New York City police officers were gunned down last week, and I haven’t been able to shake off the story.

Sometimes I think we are numbed by the cascade of bad news so it’s oddly comforting to know that a story can still break through the clutter and hit you square in the heart.

For me, the deaths of Wilbert Mora and Jason Rivera hit hard.

Sadly, officers are killed in the line of duty all the time. But something about this tragedy resonated deeply. What was it?

I thought about that last week, and I came up with a few answers.

First, it was the age of the two officers who died: 27 and 22.  I have sons around that age. It hit home.

These men were just starting their lives of service and that hit home too. What a tremendous loss.

I was also touched by the poignant words of New York Police Commissioner Keechant Sewell on Officer Mora:

“Wilbert is 3 times a hero. For choosing a life of service. For sacrificing his life to protect others. For giving life even in death through organ donation. Our heads are bowed, and our hearts are heavy.”

Doctors removed his kidneys, heart, pancreas and liver for lifesaving transplants, with five recipients identified and the organs delivered later in the day.

It’s tragic beyond words that his life was cut so tragically short after a domestic violence call turned disastrous.

Similarly, Officer Rivera, only 22, leaves a legacy of service and caring for the community.

He grew up in Manhattan as part of an immigrant family. He joined the New York Police Department with a goal of bettering the relationship between officers and the community — all inspired by his own family’s difficult encounters with police. Officer Rivera wanted to be a police officer so he could change those interactions. He wanted to be the first in his family to wear a badge. He achieved that goal only to be cut down in his rookie year.

These losses remind us that no call is routine for an officer.

It’s a dangerous business.

Over the years, I had the privilege to get to know scores of police officers in Delray Beach and a few in other jurisdictions as well.

I had the opportunity to “ride along” with many officers and special units and got a glimpse of what they are up against.

I know it was just a glimpse, but it was enough to convince me that a good police department is absolutely essential if you want to live in a good city.

That goes for fire as well.

If you can’t offer safety in your community—you have nothing. It all starts with safety.

Back in my ride along days which started in the 1980s, Delray officers were combating the scourge of crack cocaine which led to violent crime and turf wars.

These days, officers are up against opioid addiction, mental illness, homelessness and more.

As we have seen, officers are also up against people who are heavily armed. The two officers in NYC were cut down by a gun that was modified so that it functioned as a machine gun.

We’ve spent the better part of the last few years knee-deep in a debate about policing in this country.

That debate has been divisive and at times ugly. Like a lot of things in this country and frankly our own city these days.

Why does it always have to be that way? Why does it always have to turn ugly?
Why do we feel the need to demonize those who disagree with us?

But maybe the better question is where are we? What does all of this mean and where does it lead?

I would argue that hatred breeds more hatred and violence breeds ever more violence.

Where is the light?

Where is the light to brighten these dark days?

Last week, we met with our financial advisor for our annual check-up.

For the first time in my memory, civil unrest was mentioned as a potential risk alongside the usual bogeymen– inflation, recession, and volatility.

Civil unrest? In America? Yes, it can happen here.

Recently, I saw Congressman Adam Schiff give a speech to the Forum Club.

His new book is called “Midnight in Washington” and it discusses a raft of threats to our Democracy: election integrity, hyper partisanship, division, and everyone walking around with their own set of facts.

It’s an awful lot to process; an awful lot to live with day after day.

It’s dark at midnight…but darkness is also followed by light but only if we work to make it so.

Last week, two bright lights were lost in Harlem when they walked down a hallway and were met by a hail of gunfire. All of their promise…all they had to give this world …gone forever in a spasm of nonsensical violence. When you read something like that and allow yourself to absorb the enormity of it, you realize there are no do-overs. All of their potential gone in a few seconds.

We cannot afford to lose our bright lights.

On the internet, I found a letter that Officer Rivera, age 22, wrote to his commanding officer at the police academy.

“When I applied to become a police officer, I knew this was the career for me,” he wrote. “I would be the first person in my family to become a police officer. Coming from an immigrant family, I will be the first to say that I am a member of the NYPD, the greatest police force in the world. Growing up in New York City, I realized how impactful my role as a police officer would be in this chaotic city of about 10 million people. I know that something as small as helping a tourist with directions, or helping a couple resolve an issue, will put a smile on someone’s face.”

We need more people who long to put smiles on people’s faces and a lot less of those who seek to do harm.

Rest in Peace Officer Rivera.

Have mercy on us all.

 

Heroes & Friends

Bill Branning and Frances Bourque have volunteered for decades.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” MLK.

Last Tuesday night, I sat in a room in the Cornell Museum at Old School Square surrounded by beautiful art and even more beautiful people.

It was the end of a long day, and I was exhausted.

I had been up since 4:30 a.m. worried about a friend who has Covid. I went to the gym and had a busy day at work. All I wanted to do was go home and curl up on the couch with the new puppy.

But I went to Old School Square to talk about the future of the organization with some of the best people I’ve ever met.

And I realized that this is where I should be.

I was home.

I was a few yards from the fieldhouse where I was married, a few feet away from the Crest Theatre where we held Town Hall meetings and where my family and I watched so many memorable shows.

In a few weeks— unless some common sense and a spirit of compromise shows up like a miracle—the beautiful art will come down off the walls. And the special people who created and largely funded Old School Square will be gone too. Some, I fear, will be gone forever. That would be a loss that would do more damage to Delray Beach than just about anything I can think of.

Yes, the city or some museum in Boca can swoop in with lots and lots of (taxpayer?) money and re-open the doors.

The City Manager and Parks Director can make a bunch of snappy and happy YouTube videos telling you that all is well and that things will be “better than ever” at Old School Square.

But they would be wrong.

They don’t know.

They are just good soldiers following orders. They are paid staff, who seem to come and go like the breeze these days, tasked with putting perfume on a decision that smells.

Thanks to a 3-2 vote of the City Commission, 32 years of hard work and passion for this community will be evicted in February.

I thought about that hard work and that passion when I looked around the room Tuesday evening.

There was Frances Bourque, the founder of Old School Square, a hero and inspiration to so many people.

If we lived in a kind place, there would be a statue to Frances on the grounds she saved 32 years ago. Not that Frances would want that, but her friends would, because we would want future generations to know about this wonderful woman who looked at a collection of dilapidated buildings behind a rusted chain link fence and saw so much more.

A few years back, I worked with Frances’ sister Judy and others to nominate Mrs. Bourque for a statewide award given by the University of Florida to honor Floridians for “exceptional achievement, impact, and leadership”.

Frances won.

We weren’t surprised, but she was, and the first thing she did was credit others.

“No MAN (or WOMAN) is an island,” she wrote in an email. “This recognition belongs to ALL of us!”

Typical Frances. The truly great ones are humble. Real leaders share credit.

Sitting next to Frances was the amazing Deborah Dowd.

Deborah is a retired teacher. She worked with students in Title 1 Schools, helping children who lived in poverty learn how to read. I visited her classroom a time or two. Watching her with kids could bring tears to your eyes.

Deborah is an amazing volunteer. She has done so much for wonderful non-profits such as the Achievement Center and served on many important city boards. Deborah won the “Woman of Grace” Award given by Bethesda Hospital a few years back. That award honors the best of us and Deborah is the best of us.

I looked across the room and saw Elise Johnson.

Elise and her husband Charles are generous donors and kind people. They own Putt N’ Around, one of the best places to take your family in Delray Beach. When my sister-in-law passed away recently, we took my nephew to Putt N’ Around to lift everyone’s mood. It was a memorable day—I’m sure so many other families have built memories around the landmark.

In years past, before Covid and this nonsense we are dealing with now, Charles and Elise coordinated the “Santas” who volunteered at Old School Square. We went to their home for Santa training and to receive freshly ordered Santa suits. I can’t think of better or more giving people.

A few feet away from Elise, sat Patty Jones, the chair of Old School Square. Patty and her family just suffered a devastating loss, but she hasn’t missed a beat. She loves OSS so much that she just keeps going. Her devotion moves me to my core. She is a wonderful person.

Next to Patty sat a young man named Malik Ramelize. Malik is an attorney and social justice advocate. I’m so impressed with this guy that I Googled him to learn more. I found an article from the University of Miami Law School that discussed his “wayward” path to the law, how he ran the streets in Delray, saw a whole lot of violence and became determined to make a difference. His middle name is Thurgood, as in Thurgood Marshall.

The article says that when his father gave him the middle name Thurgood, “he knew exactly what he was doing. There’s no doubt that he gave me that name with the hope of me one day becoming an attorney. And I thank him for it because I love the name. Thurgood Marshall was not only one of the greatest Supreme Court justices of our time, but he’s also one of the most influential people of our time. He broke barriers that people thought couldn’t be broken.”

Malik is determined to break barriers and make a difference. Remember his name, I have a hunch he will do great things.

I can go on and on—the caliber of human being in that room fighting for Old School Square is moving and remarkable.

Young leaders like Connor Lynch, seasoned volunteers like Scott Porten and Bill Branning and one of the nicest humans on the planet— Noreen Payne. And the list goes on.

The talented artist Patti McGuire.

Joe Gillie, the guy who won us those All America City Awards we like to brag about. Not to mention the good people on the staff who love the mission and will soon be out of work.

These are the people our city won’t sit down with and talk about a path forward. It’s shameful. There’s no other word. It’s important that you know about these people, because they are invaluable to our community.

Margaret Blume, who gave more money to charity than anyone that I can think of in the modern history of Delray, was dismissed when she appeared at a recent commission meeting to ask about her multimillion- dollar effort to improve the Crest Theatre, fieldhouse and Cornell Museum.

A majority of our commission can’t find it in their hearts to say a kind word about people like Frances and Margaret.

Some, however, have found the time to double down on misinformation about OSS.

One brand new commissioner  talks about the millions of taxpayer dollars that have flowed to OSS over the years but she doesn’t say that 75-80 percent of the budget is raised privately by OSS. How can a businesswoman talk only about costs not benefits, as if there has been no return on the public’s investment?

Really?

Look down the street at Atlantic Avenue—there’s your return.

Ask a resident if they have had a good time at OSS over the years—seeing a show, watching a free concert or taking a class. How do you measure the value of sitting on the grass and watching kids 5 to 95 dance under the stars to music in the Pavilion?

Old School Square has generated millions and millions of dollars in economic activity and investment over the past three decades. Somehow this is lost on the powers that be.

For some reason, there is a concerted effort to undo all the good work it took to build this community.

Let’s get rid of the festivals, let’s take over the CRA and politicize it, let’s ignore the neighbor’s vision for The Set—their own neighborhood. Let’s throw away OSS and the people behind it.

Why?

Because they are the “good old boys”?

Tell that to the women in the room. The only thing that’s correct in that sentence is the word good.

These are good people.

And that’s what this fight is about my friends.

This is not about performance, although OSS can always do better. OSS had turnover in senior positions and they missed an audit deadline. P.S. the city has had turnover too. Massive and costly turnover.

The Commission has made a ton of mistakes from mishandling the water issue to screwing up nearly every RFP that’s been issued.

What leaders do is acknowledge shortcomings and work with partners to make things better.

This is not about OSS’ lack of compliance; the organization missed a deadline because their auditor quit during a horrible and historic pandemic.

OSS has since produced clean audits and every document that has been requested. It’s all a red herring. This is about crushing good people.

This feels personal to those people, because it is personal.

These people have been bullied. They have been labeled and they have been maligned.

They have also been accused of being arrogant, not listening and failing to comply with the city’s rules.

It’s just not true.

And if the city felt that way, there was never an attempt to sit down and figure it out; to walk through the issues, perceived slights and alleged deficiencies in the spirit of trying to make things better.

I suppose it’s quicker to take out a two by four than it is to commit to a process meant to build mutual understanding and a better relationship. Quicker–but costly too. Costly in terms of legal fees, staff time (tax dollars) and human fall out.

I see the treatment of OSS as a metaphor for the state of our city these days.

 

For better or worse, OSS is one of our signature civic achievements.

 

Nobody from OSS has ever argued that it is perfect or all that it could be or needs to be.

But it’s still pretty damn good, and it still represents one hell of an effort by a generation of volunteers and donors. People were proud of that effort and happy to serve and write checks. They knew they were serving the community and that they had a partner in the city and the CRA.

 

Back before we became a dysfunctional municipal laughingstock with an endless parade of city managers, department heads and lawsuits, cities from all over the country came to Delray to learn how we did it. What was our secret sauce?

We always met those groups at OSS because we were proud of those buildings and the effort and love it took to bring them to life.

When we went on the road, our last presentation slide was always OSS. It was the show- stopper. And it never failed to elicit ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’. But it wasn’t the restoration of the buildings that got to people. It was the community effort and the passion that went into the effort of building community that hit home.

For better or worse, OSS has been a big piece of this community’s heart and soul. There are other important symbols—other important non-profits, but it would be hard to argue that OSS doesn’t matter.

And it’s not the buildings folks, as beautiful and historic as they are. It is the people who have been involved. The people who breathed life  into the campus, who gave us a place to gather, who built a special sense of community.

Destroying this organization is an attack on that heart and soul.

We should all care about this fight because it is about so much more than OSS.

It is about the future of this city. And how we treat each other.

Think that’s overly dramatic?  Oh, I hope so.

I hope I’m wrong.

But when some of the best people in this community  get hit by a two by four,  you can count on some of them to walk away and quit. Quit giving, quit serving, quit caring.

All I am saying is that would be  a shame. A preventable shame.

I think that’s the goal here.  To get these people to quit. (P.S. most won’t).

That’s just my hunch.

What would be the harm in talking to good people? What’s the downside?

We can talk about what’s gone wrong in this relationship, what needs to change, what needs to get better and what’s been good about this place. We can work together on behalf of the community as we are all tasked to do.

A few weeks back, 8 former mayors—every elected mayor who is still alive wrote a letter asking for that conversation and for the public to be involved in determining the future of Old School Square, the heart and soul of our community. To date, we have heard crickets. To date, the community has not been heard. Nearly 11,000 who signed a petition have been ignored.

Citizen driven planning led to the revitalization of Delray Beach. That was the secret sauce. Talking to each other about Delray and then going out and making it happen.

Why wouldn’t we go back to that formula now? Why wouldn’t we listen to the stakeholders instead of turning the fate of Old School Square over to a judge?

The people in the Cornell Museum last week are wondering the same things.

They are my heroes.

Many of us were off the board for years before we got back involved to stand up for the organization thousands of people have built and sustained over the years. Those need people need a voice. They deserve an audience with the powers that be that sit on the commission.

We would be losing an awful lot if these people walked away.

And if that isn’t the goal, we should all put down our swords, sit down like adults and figure this out.

OSS has always been willing to talk, despite the spin from the dais.

OSS has offered to talk, but they have been rejected. Repeatedly.

So it was litigate, or be put out to the trash after three decades. There was no choice.

OSS offered to settle, but a majority of the commission wouldn’t even discuss the offer among themselves.

OSS offered to mediate early, but the city’s attorneys said no.

Meanwhile, the misinformation keeps coming. And remember, the city ended the lease “without cause.”

Ironic and I’m being charitable.

I guess if you keep repeating lies, people start believing or at least questioning.

It’s even more ironic when the same commissioners complain when OSS pushes back.

Bullies will take your lunch money every day if you let them, but bullies typically don’t like it when you say enough is enough.

OSS is saying enough. They are also saying let’s work it out. Let’s not throw away everything that has been built.

I hope you will stick by these brave volunteers and the dedicated staff that remain,  because as important as OSS is, this is an even bigger fight.

I Dream Of Community

I woke up this morning and watched Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop” speech in Memphis.

He was assassinated the next day. He never got to the Promised Land. He knew he wouldn’t.

But MLK saw the Mountain Top. He saw America’s problems, but he also saw its potential. He had hope for the nation to become the Promised Land.

So do I.

I also have hope for our community.

Last week, I wrote about finding an old video from Delray Beach’s first All America City Award win in 1993.

The footage reminded me of a productive and happy time in our community.  In the 90s and beyond, Delray was brimming with aspiration and there was widespread civic engagement and a whole lot of unity.

After the hotly contested 1990 election, we would go ten years before the next contested election. That’s astonishing when you think about that through the lens of today’s toxic politics.

But it didn’t seem so strange back then because people were largely happy with the city’s direction at the time. It’s hard to imagine an uncontested seat these days.

While competitive elections are healthy, it’s hard to remember a time when the electorate wasn’t polarized. It’s also hard to remember a time when elections were about ideas not about personalities and whose “camp” you’re in.

Sadly, we are not alone.

We live in a polarized nation—a dangerously divided country in which both sides believe the other side poses an existential threat to their survival.

The division and vitriol that accompanies that division consumes a lot of the time of many people that I know.

And we wrestle with its many manifestations.

Locally, we see the division play out with bickering on social media, nasty elections and political decisions based on personalities not sound public policy.

Nationally, we all know how toxic Washington has become.

But the division has even affected families and friendships.

I know people who don’t speak to once beloved relatives because they voted for Trump or Biden.

And I’m really wrestling with my feelings for a longtime friend who is an ardent anti-vaxxer who supports a U.S. Senate candidate who believes the vaccine is “Luciferian.” When I saw a video of the candidate, it literally made me nauseous. I wanted to buy the guy a one-way ticket on Elon Musk’s spaceship.

Of course, my friend would rather have people send the candidate money so he can protect Americans from a vaccine that I consider a lifesaver. The candidate calls the jab the mark of the beast. Sigh.

I know I tipped my personal politics with that story, so I guess I can count on a few of you dropping off here. Go ahead, I’ll miss you.

Let’s just say that as a Covid survivor, I am grateful for the vaccine. If it keeps me and my loved ones out of the hospital and alive, I’m good with that. I don’t fear 5G or being controlled by Bill Gates and I don’t believe Democrats are molesting children on the second floor of a pizza shop that didn’t have a second floor.

I think the feds have done a bad job with messaging on the virus and that our government has been a day late and a dollar short on testing. But I’m grateful for the scientists hard at work to protect us and to companies like Moderna who I believe have saved millions of lives. And if you think that makes me a socialist, well I’m also glad I bought Moderna stock. 😊

When I was hospitalized with Covid in the summer of 2020, they had nothing to throw at me except some anti-virals, experimental convalescent plasma, powerful steroids, and Vitamin D. The threat of a ventilator loomed over me for 39 long and painful days. So, when a vaccine was approved, I couldn’t wait to get it.

I honestly don’t believe I have the mark of the beast running through my veins (some may disagree). I do thank the good lord for granting all of us some measure of protection.

But enough about what ails us.

How about some solutions?

Nationally, there’s an organization called No Labels (www.nolabels.org) that is trying mightily to bring Democrats and Republicans together through what is called the “Problem Solvers Caucus.”

A few months back, thanks to the generosity of a friend in Delray, a few of my buddies and I had a chance to interact via phone with the organization’s top leadership. I liked a lot of what I heard, but honestly, I’ve been turned off by some other things and I’ve shared that with the organization’s top brass who have been kind enough to debate me via email.

My biggest beef with No Labels is that they seem to push a few favorite politicians and I think that’s risky in this environment. I think they should be concentrating on the basics: bipartisanship, the need for compromise and the importance of having peaceful transfers of power after elections.

They won’t get my money to support some overstuffed overrated Senator. Not that my money matters anyway.

No Labels has promise, but it’s not enough and it’s missing the mark in a few fundamental ways. Are they a solution? I hope so, but I’m not convinced. (Sorry, Randy, it’s not personal, just business).

I do think volunteering is a potential answer to bridging divides. But there’s some headwinds to overcome–namely people aren’t volunteering.

There was some bad news for Florida released to little fanfare last week.

The Corporation for National and Community Service ranks Florida as the lowest volunteer state in the nation, with 22.8% of residents volunteering statewide. The Miami/Fort Lauderdale/West Palm Beach area ranks even lower: 18.7% of residents volunteer, ranking us the lowest among studied metropolitan areas.
Yikes!

Here’s how our community/region fared on some other metrics:

  • 97.4% of residents regularly talk or spend time with friends and family
  • 39.2% of residents do favors for neighbors
  • 24.6% of residents do something positive for the neighborhood
  • 14.0% of residents participate in local groups or organizations
  • 36.7% of residents donate $25 or more to charity

We lag the rest of the state with those numbers. Here are Florida’s numbers:

  • 95.4% of residents regularly talk or spend time with friends and family
  • 50.9% of residents do favors for neighbors
  • 23.6% of residents do something positive for the neighborhood
  • 19.2% of residents participate in local groups or organizations
  • 43.2% of residents donate $25 or more to charity

Utah, with a 51 percent volunteer rate is number one, followed by Minnesota at 45.1 percent and Oregon at 43.2 percent.

Florida ranks dead last— one percentage point below Mississippi.

Minneapolis-St. Paul tops the nation’s cities at 46.3 percent, followed by Rochester, N.Y. at 45.6 percent and Salt Lake City at 45 percent. Our community ranks dead last among major metros with an 18.7 percent volunteer rate just below Las Vegas.

I think civic participation and volunteerism are solutions to polarization. It’s easy to demonize someone you don’t know, and harder to ignore the humanity of someone you work beside.

When Delray won its first All America City Award in ’93 and became the first city in Florida to win twice in 2001, we had over 1,000 people volunteering for our Police Department. We had several hundred trained for the Fire Department’s Community Emergency Response Team (which came in handy after hurricanes) and programs such as a Youth Council, Citizen Police Academies, Neighborhood Potluck Dinners, Study Circles (part of a race relations initiative), youth summits, neighborhood summits, a Neighborhood Advisory Council, Neighborhood Task Teams, Town Hall meetings, Resident Academies, Haitian Citizen Police Academies and a slew of citizen driven visioning exercises to guide our elected officials. We may have a few of these programs left, but a lot of these efforts have been gutted, discarded, and or forgotten about.

We even had a Citizen’s Tool Kit given to new residents to help them get connected. You were given a kit when you registered to get your water meter turned on.

When we look for answers I would start with beefing up volunteerism, civic engagement, and citizen input. The efforts must be real and authentic, not check the box window dressing.

It’s not easy with Covid, but it’s doable.

It will take a lot of time and resources, but if successful, we can reknit the social fabric.

People who work together toward a common goal tend not to hate each other. In fact, just the opposite occurs. Respect builds, relationships form, and community gets built.

And my friends, we need community now more than ever. We need it before it’s too late.

 

 

 

A Look Back Could Be A Map Forward

Joe Gillie leading the All America City effort in 1993.

Over the holidays, we spent some time in the 1990s.

We took the trip back through home movies. It was quite an experience.

This is not a usual “thing” for us, but my ex-wife was in town for Christmas, and she gave us all flash drives filled with memories. It was a wonderful gift and deeply appreciated.

We got to “visit” with relatives since departed and hear voices that we miss so much that our hearts literally ache.

We got to see our children when they were little. It was great.

We were reminded once again of how fast life flies by. The home movie experience makes you nostalgic for what seemed like a simpler time.

It’s the everyday stuff that tugs on your heart; seeing your son dig into his first birthday cake (with his hands). Seeing your now grown daughter hugging a long departed beloved pet. Savor these fleeting scenes….they drift into the mist as the days pass by.

As a new year begins, I think that’s a good message to hold onto. Cherish the good stuff. Hold onto hope in this crazy world.

The home movie binge led us an old video of Delray’s 1993 All America City Award win in Tampa.

It was the city’s first win and the victory put Delray on the map nationally. But more importantly, the All America City designation gave the many citizens who were working to build this community the validation that they were on the right track.

A distinguished group of judges—people who knew cities and asked tough questions—took a look at what Delray was doing and gave the city an enthusiastic thumbs up.

My wife, Diane, then the city’s assistant planning director, filmed the event and we think it may be the only video that exists. We’re not sure why, but I guess nobody thought of filming the event.

Viewed today, almost 30 years later, it’s clear that what happened in Tampa was important local history and I think it ought to be required viewing for anyone interested in what it takes to build community and instill civic pride.

Now as good an urban planner as my wife was, she was not exactly an auteur behind the lens. Scorcese she is not. (Sorry, Diane).

Still, she managed to capture the spirit of this community circa 1993 and that spirit was awe-inspiring.

A few things jump out.

City government was close to its residents.

Neighborhood leaders and the city partnered on a wide range of projects. The Police Department, under the leadership of Chief Rick Overman, was taking community policing to new heights working closely with the grass roots group MAD DADS to take back entire neighborhoods from drug dealers. That effort became legendary, but the video also reveals how integrated the efforts were with the rest of city government. The Community Improvement Department, led by Lula Butler, worked hand in hand with the Planning Department and other city departments to move the needle on blight, crime, and quality of life issues. In those days, everything seemed to be interlocked and when people, systems and organizations are rowing in the same direction you can move mountains. And Delray did.

–There was a laser focus on schools.

When one of the All America City judges asked a tough question about local schools, up came School Board member Bill Graham to testify to the city’s close partnership with the School District. Pretty cool. Delray was a model for other cities on how to partner with the School Board to make meaningful change and they did with new schools (Village Academy), award winning programs (S.D. Spady’s Montessori magnet) and improved facilities (a new Atlantic High School which was built about a decade after the ‘93 All America City Award).

—There was extraordinary camaraderie among citizens.

My favorite parts of the video footage is to see Delray’s diverse community interacting in candid moments. Old and young, Black and white, east and west—there was a real closeness and ease that was evident in those days. Everyone was on board with a common vision. They all shared the same North Star and that’s magical to witness.

I, for one, took that part for granted. Delray was built on vision. Public engagement and involvement was what crafted that vision.

We have gotten away from that and it has caused all sorts of problems.

But in 1993, the community was unified behind Visions 2000 and the Decade of Excellence bond which provided the financing for all sorts of public investments. The citizens backed those efforts because they created the vision and then voted overwhelmingly to fund it.

Those investments yielded an immense return. For the life of me, I will never understand why recent commissions haven’t taken advantage of historically low interest rates (and record tax revenues to satisfy debt) to invest in our infrastructure which is aging and in need of repair.

There’s one more factor that hit me as the camera scanned the crowd and I saw the likes of Frances Bourque, Ken Ellingsworth, Dave Harden, Chris Brown, Tom Fleming, David Kovacs, Robin Smith, Deborah Dowd, Chuck Ridley, Spencer Pompey, Ruth Pompey, Tom Lynch, Jay Alperin, David Kovacs, Helen Coopersmith, Sandra Almy, Ben Bryant, Bob Currie, Dorothy Ellington, Leo Erbstein, Dave Henninger, Mike Weiner, Frank McKinney, Sandy Simon, John Tallentire, Bill Wood and so many others.

These were some really, really special people. The kind of people who move mountains.

All these folks were very different, but they were united in their love for this city, and they gave  their time, talents and treasure to Delray Beach.

I have no doubt that we still have some amazing talent and passion in our city. I see it every day.

But in my opinion our city government is no longer doing the outreach to get people involved. So many people feel adrift as a result.

And it can’t all be blamed on Covid. This drift has been going on long before we heard the word.

We are suffering from a lack of leadership and vision—that’s fatal my friends. Fatal, with a capital F. And if it doesn’t change, you can use that letter to describe what we will be.

We long ago ditched the Town Hall meeting, charrettes and visioning sessions. Now our chances to engage with the city are few and far between and some people have been cancelled because they don’t support the current regime. (see Square, Old School for a prime example).

This isn’t a healthy or productive way to run a city. And the evidence is everywhere (See, turnover and lawsuits for example).

There is a better way.

Sometimes you should look to the past for clues. It is no longer than the 90s. That’s clear. The world has changed.

But some basics never grow old. Kindness, friendship, outreach, engagement and a sincere desire to enlist the community to tackle its challenges will never go out of style. That’s what made us an All America City when that really meant something.

I’ve long ago given up on a few elected officials. Thanks to term limits they will all go some day. But we have a new City Manager. I think he’s the ninth or 50th since Dave Harden retired, I forget which because it has been dizzying to watch. But maybe this one will stick around.

If he’s willing, he ought to spend 20 minutes or so watching the video from 1993. He might get a glimpse of a town that was really working back in those days. He might just learn something.

Email me Mr. Moore. I will make sure you get a copy. I will even find someone who understands what it takes to build community to sit with you (at a respectful social distance of course) and narrate.  I suspect  you are getting a very one-sided view of what Delray is like.  Perhaps you should balance that out.

There are still a few icons from that era who I’m sure would be happy to help you.

 

 

In Search of Hope & Joy

“Stay gentle, keep the eyes of a child

Don’t harden your heart or your hands

Know to find joy in the darkness is wise

Although they will think you don’t understand

Don’t let the world make you callous

Be ready to laugh

No one’s forgotten about us

There is light on your path

—“Stay Gentle” lyrics by Brandi Carlile

 

This will be my last post for 2021.

I want to wish you all a happy, safe, and joyous Christmas and New Year and I want to thank you for reading. I’m grateful for your time and attention every Monday (and sometimes Wednesdays).

This column is a labor of love and something that I look forward to every week.

I cherish your feedback and take it all to heart.

As we wrap up 2021, I find myself thinking about the twin concepts of hope and joy.

Those words were planted in my brain by none other than Stevie Van Zandt, guitarist for the E Street Band, and the guy who played Silvio on The Sopranos.

I just finished Mr. Zan Vandt’s awesome autobiography “Unrequited Infatuations” which has become a surprise best seller. The book is terrific, and I love the title because it summarizes the experiences of most guys I know. Sigh.

Littler Steven is a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, consigliere to Bruce Springsteen and a political activist who played a prominent role in the dismantling of apartheid in South Africa. He’s also quietly been at the forefront of everything from satellite radio and Netflix’s international expansion to the resurgence of arts education through his “Teach Rocks” foundation and curriculum.

He seems like a cool guy and is certainly a larger-than-life figure hanging out with the likes of Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, James Gandolfini and Little Richard. Now that’s a dinner party!

A minor but recurring theme of the book is the notion that we, as a society and as a nation, have lost our sense of hope and joy.
Stevie feels that those words were a common thread behind the spirit of the 1960s, but somewhere along the way we lost our mojo.

There’s no joy in Mudville as they say. Little hope that the world we inhabit will get better.

The 60s were a turbulent era—war, assassinations, street protests, struggles for civil and equal rights. But despite the chaos, Mr. Van Zandt says there was joy and hope in our music, in our culture and even in our politics. There was a sense that we were working toward a more perfect union.

I’ve been thinking about these heavy topics amidst the turbulence and division of 2021.

We’ve lost 800,000 plus Americans to Covid; but instead of this threat binding us together; the virus has driven us apart—physically, spiritually and politically.

We hold elections and a great many no longer trust the results.

Faith in our institutions—government, courts, media, schools, universities, the financial system and businesses are suffering according to public opinion surveys. Attendance at religious services— in person and on-line— is dropping.

It’s a scary time of public health crises, inflation, climate change and spasms of gun violence.

We fear and loathe those who do not think like us.

Right here at home, we end the year with arguably our greatest civic icon, Frances Bourque, embroiled in a lawsuit pitting Old School Square against the City of Delray Beach. Think about that for a moment. It’s just a big, loud (and sad) wow.

Which begs the question; is there still room for joy? Is there space for hope to take root in such a climate?

I believe there is.

I have no evidence to support my feelings. No magic formula that says things will get better other than faith.

I still have faith.

It may be misplaced, it may be delusional, but I still harbor a belief that before we sink further our better angels will wake up and save the day.

As Mets fans used to say: “Ya Gotta Believe”.

Reknitting our torn social fabric is the leadership challenge of a lifetime. The stakes could not be higher. I believe the survival of American Democracy is at stake and because we remain a beacon for the world, if we fail, there will be grave global implications. The world needs America. And we need her too.

So, what should we do?
Well, we need to re-establish the existence of objective facts. That won’t be easy but if half of our population says today is Monday and the other says Tuesday, where does that get us?

If half the nation wants to try and address climate change but the other half doesn’t– what happens to our world if the overwhelming majority of scientists are correct and we are indeed experiencing an existential crisis affecting every corner of our globe?

If we hold elections and half the country doesn’t trust their basic integrity how do we function as a Democracy?

And if we lose faith in our courts and large swaths of our nation decides to ignore rulings where does that leave the rule of law, the basic building block of a civilized society?

I don’t know the answers or even where to begin, yet I remain full of hope that we can somehow find a way forward.

It seems to be that most people I interact with—on both sides of the aisle—are pretty miserable these days, especially at the state of our politics—on all levels federal, state and local.

There’s no joy and where’s there no joy hope wanes.

As someone who believes in the power of community, I believe the answers start right here at home.

We can resolve to be kinder to each other. We can resolve to talk more and shout less. We can resolve to listen to those who are disaffected.

We can make it a point to confront bullies and not cede them the public square.

We can resolve to respect each other, to listen and to be stewards instead of bulldozers.

We can summon the courage to stand up and be counted— in a respectful way of course. We can stop pretending that we can’t be found when our friends ask us to stand up for what’s right.

We can show up and speak truth to power even if that truth may hurt our interests in the short term. It’s called doing the right thing.

We can react or we can respond.

From Seth Godin: “When we react to a medicine, that’s a bad thing. When we respond, it’s working.”

We can throw a tantrum or we can respond—with something that works. With an approach we’re proud of, proud of even after the moment has passed. It’s not easy, it’s often not fun, but it’s the professional’s choice.

It’s also the citizen’s choice. We need to become citizens again.

We can save our communities. We have the power to do so.

It starts with kindness and empathy and ends with joy and hope.

Joy keeps us going. So does hope. Right now, we have to keep moving forward even when we feel tired and want to chuck it all. Especially when we are tired. We must never ever give up.

Wishing you a wonderful holiday season and a safe New Year.

I’ll leave with part of a  poem called “One Today”  that I recently discovered. It’s by Richard Blanco.

“We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight

of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always—home,

always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon

like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop

and every window, of one country—all of us—

facing the stars

hope—a new constellation

waiting for us to map it,

waiting for us to name it—together.”

 

 

 

The Ties That Happily Bind

Retired Delray Beach Police Officer Chuck Jeroloman.

Every year, around Christmastime, I get a text from a retired Delray Beach detective.

“It’s time to meet for dinner at Arturo’s Restaurant in Boca Raton.”

And every year, 5 to 7 of us, retired cops, a retired businessman and one washed-up politician (me) get together to catch up. They even let one retired firefighter attend. That’s a big concession for a police officer to make, but in the spirit of the season the invite is issued and usually accepted.

I look forward to this dinner.

In the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, this event stands out for its warmth, its meaning and just the genuine feeling of camaraderie you get when you sit with old friends.

Even though we don’t see each other much, time just melts away when you are with certain people and you fall right back into the comfort of a good friendship.

I really admire and in some ways, I am envious of police officers and firefighters. They share a bond that unites them in a very special way.

To be sure, I’ve been blessed with some really special work and office friendships too. But there’s something different about cops and firefighters. It’s a next level connection.

Working in a newsroom, alongside talented writers, editors and photographers was a gift that I will always miss and remember fondly. My current office culture is special too. I’ve worked with incredible people and I am deeply appreciative of that experience and worry about what others who work remotely are missing.

Yes, I know it’s safer and convenient to work from home. It’s liberating as well because you can live anywhere that has an internet connection. But….

But you don’t get the closeness and the magic of what it’s like to see and interact with people every day.

But as special as my work environments have been—the richness and the bonds between police officers and firefighters is something else entirely. They refer to each other as brothers and sisters and they mean it.

When they lose a brother and a sister, they feel it deep in their souls because they shared so many adventures and stories.

As an old crime reporter, I know not all is bliss. There are cliques, divisions, politics and jealousies in police and fire departments. Combined with the stressful nature of the job, the dangers, the responsibility for life and property etc., you can see why many of the retirees are happy to be doing other things after long careers working long shifts. But…

They do miss it.

And oh, the stories they can tell.

I got to be very close with a generation of police officers and firefighters in Delray Beach. These men and women are remarkable.

Some of the newcomers to our community may not know that Delray was a rough place in the 80s and into the 90s too. Some neighborhoods were open air drug markets and there was a lot of drugs, guns and violence.

Remarkably, I was given carte balance to ride along with detectives, fugitive task forces, field training officers and the well-known and much respected “jump out” crews who tackled street level drug sales day and night.

I was a reporter in those days, and I kept crazy hours—riding in the back seat of police cruisers all night and ending with breakfast at a long gone IHOP on North Federal Highway before rushing back to the newsroom to write it all down before I forgot what happened. Over time, the officers I rode with began to trust me.

I strived to be accurate in my reporting. I tried to convey to readers what was happening on the streets of Delray through the eyes of the men and women tasked with serving and protecting us.

When fights broke out—and they did often—the always outnumbered cops waded into the fray. When someone got hurt, the paramedics were called in and were often pummeled with rocks too.

Delray was a long way from the posh, hip and trendy location it has become today. Commissioners didn’t have the luxury of arguing over sea grapes back then. In those days, it was about whether the city would ever turn it around.

I credit our public safety departments with making Delray safe for investment. They are the unsung heroes of Delray’s revitalization because if you don’t feel safe you can’t build community, you can’t attract residents, businesses, and tourists. You have nothing without public safety. Nothing.

So when I see gadflies whining about the costs of these departments I shrug. They just don’t know. Providing top-notch police and fire services is expensive. But it’s more expensive not to do so.

When I was elected to the City Commission in 2000, that was the one subject I felt very secure of  in terms of my knowledge. These officers, detectives, firefighters and paramedics took me to school, and I knew that my job as an elected official was to support their efforts which were bearing fruit. Crime rates went down. The relationship between officers and the community improved; trust was built through a deep and sincere commitment to community-oriented policing. On the fire side, insurance rates went down and we heard story after story of lives being saved because of the efforts of our paramedics.

During this era, Delray Police and Fire  built a robust volunteer network with citizens rolling up their sleeves to make our community safer.

It worked.

It all worked.

Along the way, I became friendly with that detective who organizes the annual Christmas dinner. His name is Chuck Jeroloman. We had New York roots and a mutual passion for baseball in common and we became quick friends.

I first met Chuck when he was on that jump out crew, known officially as the Tact Team. He was a big, strong, charismatic guy—kind of larger than life. But his biggest strength was his relationship skills. He knew how to connect with people.

He became a detective, an expert in Crime Prevention Through Environmental Design, a union leader and later a very knowledgeable and effective member of the Police and Fire Pension Board. He also served on the SWAT team and  was involved in the department’s anti-terrorism efforts post 9/11. He spent 28 years in law enforcement, 23 of those years serving our city.

Chuck loved Delray and he was always quick to share what he had learned at a conference or through hard won experience.  He also has a great sense of humor in a job where that comes in handy.

When he retired, he moved to Alabama but got a job with a law firm that advises police and fire pension funds. He has been doing that job for a long time now building relationships throughout the country with clients.

He’s going to retire from that position in the New Year to spend time with family. That makes me happy. Despite his latest transition, we are resolved to keeping this dinner an annual tradition.

This year, Chuck brought his son, Brian, to the dinner. And a new generation was introduced to the great stories and warehouse of knowledge that exists when you sit with men like Tom Judge (Delray PD retired) and Perry Don Francisco (former owner of Boston’s on the Beach and co-founder of Delray Citizens for Delray Police.)

Brian is a former UF baseball star who played 11 seasons of professional baseball for the likes of the Nationals, Blue Jays and Pirates. He currently scouts for the Yankees. He has some amazing stories himself and so the circle continues.

The next morning, still flying high from our great dinner conversation, I got a text from another Delray retiree.

“Hey,” I wrote back. “I had dinner with Chuck and TJ last night.”

“Oh man, I love those guys,” my friend wrote back. “Chuck’s wife delivered all of my children (she’s a nurse).”

That’s a link I didn’t know about. Another tie that bonds these people together.

In the history of Delray, there are a lot of men and women who have worked for our city that have quietly done an amazing job to advance this community in ways large and small.

They don’t get a whole lot of recognition, but they are all vitally important.

They are all a big part of the tapestry that makes this a place we can call home.

Many of these people move on after serving—but their hearts remain here alongside their life’s work.

I feel such a debt to these people. I treasure them.

They are invaluable.

They are cherished by those of  us who know what it takes to build something special.