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.

28 July, 2025 5 5 Comments

Good Trouble…

July 28, 2025 By Jeff Perlman 5 Comments

“Do not get lost in a sea of despair,” John Lewis tweeted almost exactly a year before his death. “Do not become bitter or hostile. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble. We will find a way to make a way out of no way.”

We recently marked the fifth anniversary of Congressman Lewis’ death from pancreatic cancer at the age of 80.

Rep. Lewis, a civil rights icon, was famous for urging people to get in what he called “good trouble.”

I watched his funeral from a bed in Bethesda Hospital where I was fighting for my life after contracting Covid. That was bad trouble. But I remember being inspired by the words of those mourning a great man.

It’s been an impactful five years for all of us.

We’ve experienced a pandemic, J6, rampant inflation, market volatility, war, natural disasters in places we thought were relatively safe (western North Carolina), toxic politics not seen in our lifetimes and divisions in our society that were once unimaginable.

We’ve been through a lot.

I have a feeling that we’re not done—there are more shoes to drop, more hits to absorb, more opportunities to tear at the seams of what used to bind us.

I also have a sense that a great many people are sick and tired of the nonsense and anxious to get to a place where we can stop fighting and get about the business of living. We inherited a wonderful country built by generations who moved mountains, who strived to create a more perfect union. To tear it apart is sinful. To those who say we are fixing things, consider this: if half the country feels left out, ignored, bullied and hated we aren’t fixing anything. The answers do not exist on either extreme, the way forward is together and that requires compromise, tolerance and bipartisanship. Both parties have failed us. We, the people, deserve better.

I’m just back from a few weeks in Maine.

I love my time off the treadmill, its restorative, relaxing and grounding.

The beauty of New England is stunning. There are rocky coastlines, lush woods, mountains, streams, waterfalls and flowers everywhere.

There’s also history, culture, walkable little towns and architecture that feels very much like America.

I feel rooted there. I’m a native New Yorker who has spent nearly 40 years in South Florida but for some inexplicable reason I feel at home when I’m wandering around New England.

I’m “from away” and therefore will never be considered a Mainer.

I’m OK with that.

When I’m there I want to be respectful of my surroundings. I’m here to experience a special place. I’m here to respect and appreciate it.

I felt the same way about Florida when I arrived on July 27 1987, a year out of school and just getting started in life.

I came to South Florida to appreciate and enjoy a place I saw as affordable paradise at the time. Coming from the gray skies of upstate NY where I went to school and got my first newspaper job to The Sunshine State was like waking up from a black and white world to a world of bright colors.

Florida was warm, fresh, the skies were brilliant, the ocean awesome and the palm trees were inviting. I had entered a world of tropical beauty. It just felt surreal to me, in all the good ways. Life here felt limitless, relaxed and easy.

When I stumbled upon Delray it called to me.

It also felt like home.

In the late 80s, the village was more than a little scruffy. The beach was beautiful, the downtown was dead, but there was a downtown and there were some very rough neighborhoods. But there was potential and the vibe felt like something significant and cool was about to happen.

There was also an inclusive feeling in the air, a message of “roll up your sleeves, get involved, we want you to be involved” aimed at everyone willing.

I fell.

Hook, line and sinker.

I was a newspaper reporter in those days. My job was to tell the story of my new home. And I relished every moment. There was so much to tell, so much going on, the place was brimming with aspiration and the message was let’s make some “good trouble.”

And lots of people did.

They came from Pittsburgh and created festivals.

They came from Illinois and built a modern day fire rescue system.

They came from Orlando and helped to build a police department second to none and they came from Belle Glade and replaced blight with art, culture and community.

I watched another native Illinoisan become a model mayor, saw a rebel looking kid from Indiana redefine the ocean front real estate market and guys from Maryland, Massachusetts and Michigan create value in neighborhoods nobody else would touch.

It was magical to watch and write about.

It was impossible not to get involved and swept up in the evolving story of this place.

A generation was making good trouble…not all of it was perfect, maybe none of it was, but it was something to behold. And cherish.

It’s more than placemaking, it’s making a place.

I miss those days. For my town and my country. I know I’m not alone.

21 July, 2025 23 23 Comments

For Frances, With Love

July 21, 2025 By Jeff Perlman 23 Comments

Frances Bourque: one of a kind.

We lost Frances Bourque July 15.

The loss wasn’t unexpected, but when the news came it hit hard. Sledgehammer hard.

There’s never enough time with the people we love, we want them around forever.

People around Delray know the highlights of Frances’ wonderful life—founder of Old School Square, key figure in the redevelopment of Delray Beach after blight, vacancy and crime took root in our now thriving downtown.

I’m sure the avenue will buzz with activity in the coming days but it wasn’t always so. Many of the patrons probably never heard of Frances Bourque and maybe Atlantic Avenue and Delray itself would have been saved without her someday, someway.

Or maybe not, many towns never get it right. But our town did, and largely because of Frances’ vision, drive and relentless pursuit to restore three old dilapidated buildings at the corner of Atlantic and Swinton.

Thank G-d for Frances.

She will be remembered as a local icon, but I will remember Frances for more than her civic resume. She was, and will always be, a special person in my life, a second mom in many ways after my mother passed young, someone I could confide in, someone I could always count on for guidance and perspective.

The remarkable thing about Frances is that she served that role for so, so many. We were all blessed to have her in our lives and frankly it’s hard to imagine what life will be like without her text messages, phone calls, infectious laugh and encouragement. A kind word from Frances had a way of washing away whatever was ailing you.

I will miss her terribly.

But I will always remember the moments and I will cling to the many lessons she imparted for the rest of my days.

All of us who loved Frances will do the same.

The weekend we all spent celebrating Frances and her wonderful husband Dr. Bob in Crescent Beach, the enthusiasm in which she shared her favorite spots in Maine after we bought a place in Portland and the fact she made it to the Delray Playhouse a few weeks ago to see a short play I wrote even though she felt tired and weak. It was the last time I saw her.

Her last words to me: “I love you.”

My last words to her were the same exact three word phrase that makes our crazy world bearable. People like Frances enrich us beyond measure. Hold them close. Tell them how you feel.

While my heart feels heavy, today I want to celebrate a life that transformed our community and touched countless hearts. For me, for her friends and family, Frances was more than the founder of Old School Square—she was our mentor, our inspiration, and our muse. She was the embodiment of graceful leadership, unwavering vision, and boundless kindness.

I’ve often said that 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—she was far too humble—but her friends would, because we 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.

Frances didn’t just see potential; she saw possibility. She saw culture where others saw decay. She saw community where others saw blight. She saw hope where others saw only problems. That vision—that extraordinary ability to see what could be rather than what was—changed Delray Beach forever.

When I think about Frances, I think about seeds. That’s what she spent her life doing—she planted seeds. And everywhere you look in Delray Beach today, you can see those seeds blossoming. Old School Square alumni are giving back throughout our community—volunteering for the Achievement Center, leading at the Chamber of Commerce, serving on the Business Development Board of Palm Beach County, giving their time, their talent, and their treasure to good causes. Frances planted those seeds of service and civic engagement.

But Frances taught us something even more important than vision or community building. She taught us about grace under pressure. When faced with challenges that would have broken lesser spirits, Frances remained steadfast. When critics questioned her work or when politics threatened and ultimately tried to wash away what she had built, she never lost her composure or her conviction. She understood that true leadership isn’t about commanding from the front—it’s about inspiring others to find their own greatness. And let me tell you, those who came for her work didn’t erase a thing. No, her legacy endures. There’s a gaping hole that yearns to be filled, but the magic she created can be found in the hearts she nurtured for decades. Oh how she touched our hearts.

A few years ago, I had the privilege of working with Frances’s sister and others to nominate Frances for a statewide award from the University of Florida, honoring Floridians for “exceptional achievement, impact, and leadership.” When Frances won— we weren’t surprised, though she was—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!”

That was Frances. Always deflecting praise, always sharing credit, always lifting others up. She made everyone around her better, and she did it with such grace that you barely noticed it happening until you looked back and realized how much you had grown under her influence.

Frances, you were our teacher in ways you probably never realized. You taught us that public service isn’t about personal glory—it’s about leaving something better than you found it. You taught us that vision without execution is just dreaming, but execution without vision is just busy work. You taught us that kindness isn’t weakness; it’s the strongest force we have for building something lasting. Let that sink in. Kindness is the strongest force we have for building something that lasts.

But kindness isn’t bullet proof. It doesn’t protect you from bad decisions. It doesn’t offer us immunity from disease. It should, but it doesn’t. We learned that too.

I haven’t been to Old School Square in a while.

Frances’ dream.

The brilliance of her vision is that the project addressed the past, the present and the future. Hard to find something that touches on history, enriches our present and speaks to what’s to come.

It worked because it was community run…that was the magic. Someday someone will realize that and bring the community back to their cultural center. And when it happens, and it will, we will remember Frances’ heart and vision. She is not done teaching us, not by a long shot.

For me, Old School Square was home. It’s where I got married, it was where my kids took classes and it’s where we spent evenings with friends listening to music under the stars. I’m not alone. So many had that experience because Frances created a place where community could flourish, where arts could thrive, where people from all walks of life could come together and discover what we share rather than what divides us.

We needed it then, we need it even more now.

Old School Square became more than Delray Beach’s version of Central Park. It became our heart. It’s where we gathered after the Parkland shooting. It’s where we gathered after 9/11. It’s where the Olympic torch came in 1996. Frances understood that a community needs a place to gather, to grieve, to celebrate, to hope.

Frances, you once said that recognition belongs to all of us, but today I need to say this: while you shared the credit, the vision was yours. The determination was yours. The grace was yours. The love you poured into this community was yours, and it has multiplied beyond anything we could have imagined.

You showed us that one person with a clear vision and an unshakeable commitment to community can indeed change the world—or at least change our little corner of it. You proved that leadership isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about asking the right questions and inspiring others to help find the solutions.

To Frances’s family, please know that she didn’t just leave behind a civic legacy. She left behind a way of thinking, a way of leading, a way of loving a community so deeply that you’re willing to fight for its soul. She left behind hundreds of people who are better leaders, better neighbors, and better human beings because they had the privilege of learning from her example.

Frances, you made me so proud to call you my friend and mentor. You taught me that when we become silent about things that matter, our lives begin to end—but when we speak up for what we believe in, when we work together, when we plant seeds of hope and nurture them with dedication, we can create something beautiful that will outlast us all.

Your legacy isn’t just in the buildings you saved or the programs you created. Your legacy lives in every person you inspired to be better, to do more, to see beyond what is to what could be. Your legacy lives in every act of graceful leadership, every moment of kind mentorship, every vision turned into reality by someone who learned from your example.

Rest in peace, dear Frances. Thank you for showing us what it means to plant seeds of hope and tend them with love. Thank you for being our hero, our inspiration, and our guide. The garden you planted will bloom for generations to come.

“No man (or woman) is an island. This recognition belongs to ALL of us!”
— Frances Bourque

I also want to send my condolences to the family and friends of State Rep. Joe Casello who recently passed.

Rep. Casello dedicated his life to public service first as a firefighter, later as a Boynton Beach commissioner and then in the state house. He leaves a legacy of fighting for public safety and a slew of good causes.

He touched many lives. May he rest in peace.

14 July, 2025 10 10 Comments

Finding That Special Spot

July 14, 2025 By Jeff Perlman 10 Comments

A “sit spot” is a place for contemplation.

I follow a guy on Facebook whose posts almost always make me think.

In the often-mindless sea of drivel on social media, this guy’s posts stand out.

They are poetic, soulful and intelligent.

Truly good stuff—material that makes you stop what you’re doing so you can ponder.

It feels good to ponder.

I went to high school with this guy 40 plus years ago on Long Island.

We were friends, not especially close; but I always thought he was a cool guy. He played guitar and always seemed self-assured—not an easy feat when you’re 17 and trying to find your way.

This guy, somehow he seemed older. More sophisticated than me and my gang. He most likely was more cultured–after all, our idea of intellect was glancing at Cliff’s Notes and pretending we read the often boring books we were assigned in English class. We preferred Sports Illustrated over Chekhov.

And Kafka…he didn’t appeal to our pedestrian tastes either. I think we read The Trial. I know we read Animal Farm. But to be honest, we were more interested in seeing if we could steal glances at our dad’s discarded Playboy magazines—tame stuff by today’s standards. And no, we did not read the articles.

But I digress.

My friends and I took a class called “Inference and Argument” and we did exactly the minimum to get by, not an ounce more.

It’s something I’m ashamed of now –skating by in school– not paying attention to what was important. I guess that’s part of being a kid. But it’s no excuse and I wish I had taken my formal education seriously.

But my friend —the guitar playing intellect —-well, he seemed different. At least I recognized that.

When you’re a kid you spend your days searching for yourself; trying on new identities to see what might fit.

As a result, when you stumble across someone who seems to know who they are it stops you cold. For all I know, my old friend was lost too. But he seemed self-assured and that’s what I noticed.

Anyway, decades fly by, and you lose touch with all but your core friends. That’s the natural rhythm of life. We make room for others. We evolve- if we’re lucky.

Then Facebook comes along and suddenly you ‘re-up’ with people you haven’t seen since the day you flipped your tassel and threw your mortar board into the air.

I reconnected with the guitar playing intellect and slowly got hooked on his poetic posts.

He still plays guitar , got remarried to someone he loves deeply and had a baby with her just a few years ago. At our age, that’s optimism.

All of it is fascinating—poetic posts, music, babies, a passionate new love. This 60 something is inspiring!

I’m glad he didn’t peak in 1982; I know a few folks who did.

He did not stay rooted in the glory days of racing cars down Nicolls Road, eating pizza at Mario’s and drinking on a fake ID in Port Jeff.

Those were good days, but the rest were even better if you’re lucky. I count myself to be one of the fortunate ones.

But I digress again.

Which finally brings me to the point of this rambling essay.

My guitar player friend recently posted about something called a “sit spot”. I had never heard the term. So I looked it up and it refers to a special place where you can go and gather your thoughts.

I like that concept, and I have a sit spot sort of. It’s in Lake Ida Park. I say sort of cause it’s not just one spot, it’s more an area within the park that I can go and collect my thoughts.

I went there after I learned my mother was sick and again after she passed. I went after my divorce and again when we had a fatal shooting when I was mayor.

I went after 9/11 and on Oct. 7 after learning what had happened in Israel.

I’ve been there a lot this year because I’ve lost several friends—a few before their time. And truth be told, there’s never enough time.

After reading the ‘sit spot’ post I had a dream about a place in the woods in what might have been Maine, which has become my happy place. A place I breathe better and feel most relaxed. I’m writing this while sitting in my kitchen in Portland, windows open, (fresh air is better than air conditioning), the birds are singing and its green—everywhere.

Anyway, I woke from this dream content. I wrote down these words to capture that feeling. That fleeting peaceful, easy feeling.

Here it is…thanks my guitar playing intellect friend. You continue to inspire this now aging man who remains a fan. P.S. what I hope you are about to read was just selected to be included in an anthology of poems being published by a group called Fresh Words. My first published poem.

You wouldn’t even notice it, not if you weren’t looking.

A little clearing, barely marked — just a dip in the trail where the moss thickens and the trees lean in like they’re sharing secrets.

There’s a ledge there, cool and smooth, carved by time and rain. My sit spot.

I don’t go there with an agenda. Not anymore.

At first, I thought I was supposed to do something — solve a problem, find clarity, reach peace.

But this place doesn’t ask that of me. It just asks me to stop.

To be.

Some days I sit, still as stone, and watch the wind make ripples in the canopy above.

Other times, I lie back on that ledge, stretch my arms out wide, and let the sky press down gently on my chest —

like it’s reminding me I’m small, but not alone.

The birds come and go, flickers of motion and music.

A squirrel chatters like I’ve interrupted his sermon.

Even the ants do their work with purpose, like they know something I don’t.

There’s a rhythm to the forest — not rushed, not lazy. Just… true.

When I’m here, I remember what it feels like to be a part of that rhythm.

To breathe like the trees breathe.

To think less and feel more.

I’ve cried here, laughed here, done nothing here.

It’s held all of it. No judgment.

Just silence, and green, and sky.

This is my sit spot.

Not mine like I own it — no, more like… I belong to it.

And when the world gets too loud, too fast, too sharp,

I come back.

And it remembers me.

6 July, 2025 0 Comments

What’s Possible

July 6, 2025 By Jeff Perlman Leave a Comment

Inside The Edythe

I had a remarkable experience a few months back that I wanted to share with you.

My teammates and I at the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation went on a “What’s Possible Tour” courtesy of the Philanthropic Services Team at Bank of America. We work closely with the team on all issues relating to philanthropy. They consult on governance, technology, best practices and any questions we might have about how to be good philanthropists. They are invaluable and we treasure their expertise and kindness.

They bring a national perspective to our “place-based” local philanthropy.

So, in the spirit of finding out ‘what’s possible’, we ventured to Central Florida to check in with the Dr. Phillips Foundation, the Edythe Bush Foundation, the Winter Park Health Foundation, Lift Orlando and the Central Florida Foundation. We also had an opportunity to visit the sensational Morse Museum on Park Avenue in Winter Park for a behind the scenes tour that served as a lesson in what culture can do for a community. The Morse is a local and national treasure. With our local arts scene threatened by funding cuts, we need to be vigilant and make sure we don’t lose what makes us special.

We came back from Central Florida brimming with ideas and filled with inspiration, excitement and motivation. We saw ‘what’s possible’ and we are determined to pursue transformation.

It’s a good lesson for all of us. Regardless of what you do for a living, it’s important to step back and explore what’s possible. For a small investment of time, we had an opportunity to refresh, recharge and change our thinking.

I think people crave inspiration. We want to be moved by a mission, we need to know our “why” and we long to find opportunities to pursue big ideas, ideas that will outlive us.

The best philanthropists, the leaders who matter, the entrepreneurs who make a dent in our world do so with posterity in mind. They understand that their highest calling is to plant seeds that others will benefit from. They plant trees knowing that others will enjoy the shade. In that spirit, here’s what we saw. I encourage you to design your own “What’s Possible Tour.”

Dr. Phillips Charities

We were blown away by the Dr. Phillips headquarters. Words cannot do justice to the building and the grounds…just a remarkable space and a statement that Dr. Phillips is here for the long haul.

It’s hard to overstate the influence Dr. Phillips and his family foundation have had on Orange and Osceola Counties. Phillips made his fortune in the citrus industry which shaped The Sunshine State. That fortune is now being used to enhance health, culture, education and the economic and social well-being of the region.

We turned to the leadership of the Dr. Phillips team when we were tasked with forming the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation and their guidance was invaluable in our start-up days.

To experience their work up close was breathtaking.

Dr. Phillips has significant real estate holdings, and they are busy turning those assets into places that will benefit the greater Orlando area.

Perhaps the most exciting project they have is the 202-acre “Packing District” which is being transformed into a vibrant mixed-use project.

One of the original citrus producers in the region, Dr. Phillips used the land that stretches along Orange Blossom Trail near College Park as the site of one of his multiple packing houses, creating a key place in the early economic ecosystem of Orlando. The site was the first industrial property in Central Florida and the crown jewel in Dr. Phillips’ real estate holdings. The plan includes 97 acres of mixed-use and residential development (1 million square feet or retail/office and 3,500 units) and a 105-acre regional park which will include a 40-acre urban farm which will focus on fixing a broken food system offering learning experiences and using sustainable practices from around the world to grow healthy food.

Our team was struck by Dr. Phillips long-term vision and the importance they place on being good stewards, which was a key principle of their founder.

Edythe Bush Foundation

Stewardship and legacy are the guiding values of the Edythe Bush Foundation, which also assisted us with key advice in our early days. The Edythe Bush Foundation’s visionary leader David Odahowski has been called the “dean of Florida philanthropy.” We wanted to borrow David’s brain and absorb his decades of wisdom. He was kind enough to cooperate.

The Edythe Bush Foundation has had a huge impact in Winter Park, which is somewhat reminiscent of Delray Beach in terms of scale and charm.

Mr. Odahowski reminded us that we probably won’t solve the many issues facing society, but we can move the needle and make a difference.

That’s good news for nonprofits, those of us who give to charity and those of us who aspire to move the needle in the right direction. Edythe Bush’s tagline is “providing a legacy of leadership” and they have done just that with a variety of investments that have helped make Winter Park, a jewel of a city. One of those newer investments is the foundation’s gleaming headquarters located downtown strategically near Rollins College.

We met inside their new building which is called “The Edythe.” It’s stunning. The Edythe welcomes the community with a variety of activities and offers meeting space to community groups. It’s designed like a theatre, which honors Mrs. Bush who was an actress and dancer. The family’s philanthropy was derived from the success of 3M, a Minnesota based conglomerate.

The foundation is unique because it has a local focus and serves as a convener. Over the past 50 years, Edythe Bush has served close to 900 nonprofit organizations and given over $114 million in grants to alleviate human suffering and help people help themselves, that is a concept that drove our founder, Carl DeSantis.

But what’s also interesting is that the foundation and its leader have served as beacons for the state of Florida. They were instrumental in founding the Florida Philanthropic Network, an organization that enables foundations to learn from each other and leverage their collective knowledge of challenges and opportunities facing Florida. The foundation also works closely with the Florida Chamber Foundation on future goals for the state. We have learned a lot from Edythe Bush and their talented staff.

Winter Park Health Foundation

Nearby is the headquarters of the Winter Park Health Foundation, which uses the proceeds from the sale of a hospital to offer programs that promote community health. The Winter Park Health Foundation has created a special space in a park-like setting where people of all ages come for classes, exercise, healthy food and solace from a busy world. I was especially taken by their “Nutrition Theatre” which serves as a learning kitchen where people can come to take classes. It reminded me of the work that Ali Kaufman is doing at the Community Classroom Kitchen in Delray Beach, which we are proud to support.

The Winter Park Health Foundation model is a little different from many other foundations in that they operate their own program. We saw the complexities of this model, but also its potential.

Central Florida Foundation

For 30 years, the Central Florida Foundation has been serving as the “community foundation” for their large and diverse region.

From these experts, we learned the importance of data analysis and the need to look at root causes of community challenges to ensure that philanthropic dollars are spent wisely.

The Foundation also serves as a convener and has found innovative ways to bring the community together around issues and opportunities. Currently, I’m bingeing their podcast “First You Talk” which covers issues including homelessness, housing and health.

What struck us the most was their “Thrive Central Florida” initiative which brings together the collective brainpower, funding and skills needed to address the most pressing challenges facing a region which is growing rapidly. The premise is simple: Central Florida leaders are smarter and more impactful when key players work together. A good lesson for other regions to emulate.

Armed with this information and passion for our mission, we are so excited about “What’s Possible.” I encourage you to ask and answer that simple, but profound question.

23 June, 2025 4 4 Comments

Keep The Cannons Thundering (a nod to Jimmy Buffett)

June 23, 2025 By Jeff Perlman 4 Comments

The historic (and very beautiful) Delray Beach Playhouse has been giving a voice to local playwrights since 2019.

The hardest thing about writing, for me, is facing the blank page- Octavia Spencer.

I’ve heard various descriptions of the daunting blank page for as long as I can remember.

But I have a confession to make: I love the blank page.

I absolutely, positively crave the blank page.

In fact, nothing gives me more satisfaction than staring down that blank page and filling it with words and thoughts.

Now those thoughts may be well received or they may be despised; it doesn’t matter. The words may land or miss the mark. It doesn’t matter. Writing gives me joy.

I’ve written journalism, bad poetry, books, essays, blogs and plays. I’ve written editorials, columns, screenplays and love letters. I’ve enjoyed it all.

I love the challenge of the blank page. And I think as we get older, we need to find our own “blank page” in life and fill the space with gusto.

On my way to work this morning, I heard one of my favorite songs– “A Pirate Looks at 40” by Jimmy Buffett.

“The cannons don’t thunder,” he sings. “There’s nothin’ to plunder, I’m an over 40 victim of fate.”

It’s a poignant song, tempered by the knowledge that Jimmy Buffett was not that guy…he kept the cannons thundering until the end. My goodness, how I miss his presence on this Earth.

All of this is to say a heartfelt thanks to the good folks at the Delray Beach Playhouse for giving local playwrights a chance to fill their magnificent stage with our words.

This past weekend, 12 playwrights and a few dozen local actors and actresses brought 12 short plays to life at the annual Playwrights Festival. It was wonderful.

Two sell-out houses came to cheer our work. And I have to say there is no better feeling than to hear gifted actors speaking your words while you sit with an audience that is reacting to your work in real time. Talk about adrenaline!

My play was called “Love After Love.” It’s a love story that takes place just outside the playhouse on a bench overlooking picturesque Lake Ida.

Diane and I were there one day with our dogs Gracie and Emmitt, when I saw a lonely looking man staring straight ahead. Something about the scene struck me; maybe it was the way he braced himself against the wind, maybe it was the “thousand yard” stare he had as he looked at the water.

I built a story around that indelible image.

That’s the magic of theater, you can try to build a world around a simple image. I’m not sure I pulled it off, I’m still learning, but I sure am having fun.

This is the second year my work was in the festival. Last year, my play “The Cafe on Main” made its debut. It was the first play I wrote and it took all I had to hit send and give it a shot when I saw the call for entries. I encourage all of you to “hit send” and take a shot yourself whether it’s playwriting, poetry, painting or playing in a pickleball tournament.

I learned a lot from my director last year Marianne Regan and learned some more this year from “Love After Love’s” director Brenda Aulbach. The cast and tech crew taught me as well.

After last year’s amazing experience, I spent the next several months working on craft, taking a 10-minute play course by Delray’s own Arianna Rose, going to see plays at Theater Lab, reading plays, books about playwriting and listening to podcasts. I also started working with NY playwright Jack Canfora, a wonderful writer/teacher who has a way of making me see things I miss in my own writing and ideas.

It has been a magnificent journey.

I’m writing at night and early in the morning. In July, my short play “Press Conference” will be performed by a Massachusetts based company on Zoom and in August the same play will be performed on a stage outside Columbus, Ohio as part of a “Brave Voices” festival.

Inspired by my experience last year, I expanded “The Cafe on Main” into a full length play that will be performed at The Arts Garage, a venue and organization I adore. I’m also working on two additional full length plays that I’m excited about.

I don’t have any expectations or dreams of glory or riches (there’s not a lot of money in local and regional theater) but I’m having fun. Lots of fun. I picked up this hobby at age 60–so it’s never too late to try new things. My fellow playwrights this year include an actor/filmmaker, a mother of five who somehow finds the time to write and two writers who write laugh out loud comedy–that’s no an easy feat.

The blank page doesn’t scare me, or them I suppose. But the blank page does represent possibility and promise. We can create new worlds if we try and if we dare to “hit send.”

“I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. If you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it full speed. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good.” – Roald Dahl

16 June, 2025 3 3 Comments

Good Vibrations

June 16, 2025 By Jeff Perlman 3 Comments

Brian Wilson’s musical vision inspired generations of people who believed in an Endless Summer and the California Dream.

Brian Wilson was a once in a lifetime talent.
The Beach Boys founder and principal songwriter died June 11. He was 82.
My friends and I saw The Beach Boys in March 1982 at the Westbury Music Fair. (Thanks for the date verification Scott, our group historian).
Brian Wilson was there, a rarity for a musician who was loathe to travel and perform at least at that time. Mr. Wilson wanted to his spend his time in the studio creating songs that have stood the test of time.
When I learned of Brian Wilson’s passing, I fired up Spotify in my Delray office and spent the afternoon typing away as hit after hit played. The music swept me away, conjuring images of beaches, sand, surfing and the promise of an endless summer. It was magical.

My musical bliss was interrupted by a Zoom call with a CEO in the drug discovery business. He was around my age, and we didn’t know each other prior to the call. But we connected over our mutual love for The Beach Boys. That’s the power of rock ‘n’ roll. Good rock n roll anyway.

We didn’t have to say anything. He saw me, I saw him, we realized we were within a few years of each other’s age and we instantly started talking about Brian Wilson’s beautiful music. Good Vibrations indeed.

God Only Knows if we’ll see another songwriter like Brian Wilson. Our generation was blessed with scores of great songwriters, but Brian was at or near the top. Good enough that Paul McCartney felt compelled to answer Pet Sounds with his own masterpiece Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. “We nicked a few ideas” Sir Paul said.

Every generation thinks their era has the best music. But in our case, it was true. The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Springsteen, Dylan, Neil Young, U2, Seger, Petty, CCR, Paul Simon, the Byrds, Eagles, Joni, Jackson, Bowie, Elton….the list goes on and on.

Of course, there’s some great new music being released but we experienced a gusher of greatness.
Wouldn’t it Be Nice if we could catch a wave and experience some more Good Vibrations.
Thank you Brian Wilson. Turns out our summers aren’t endless, but they sure are unforgettable and the music lives on.

Here’s what Beach Boys lead singer Mike Love had to say about his cousin and band mate.
“ Today, the world lost a genius, and I lost a cousin by blood and my partner in music.

Brian Wilson wasn’t just the heart of The Beach Boys—he was the soul of our sound. From the first time we sang together as kids in my living room, I knew there was something otherworldly in him. His musical gifts were unmatched. The melodies he dreamed up, the emotions he poured into every note—Brian changed the course of music forever.

Our journey together was filled with moments of brilliance, heartbreak, laughter, complexity and most of all, LOVE . Like all families, we had our ups and downs. But through it all, we never stopped loving each other, and I never stopped being in awe of what he could do when he sat at a piano or his spontaneity in the studio.

Brian’s unique artistry and our collaboration gave the world the American dream of optimism, joy, and a sense of freedom—music that made people feel good, made them believe in an endless summer and endless possibilities. It was one of the greatest blessings of my life to experience that creative space with him.

It was our privilege to make the world believe in sunshine, surfing, and teenage dreams. My life was forever changed by Pet Sounds, God Only Knows, In My Room, Good Vibrations, The Warmth of the Sun and a hundred other pieces of his soul wrapped in music. He allowed us to show the world what vulnerability and brilliance sound like in harmony. He was fragile, he was intense, he was funny—and he was one of a kind.

My wife, Jacquelyne, and I are heartbroken. She stood beside me through so many chapters of this story, and we both send our love and prayers to Brian’s family, his children, and all who were touched by his life and gifts.

Brian, you once asked, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older?” Now you are timeless. May you rest in the peace you so deeply deserve, surrounded by the heavenly music you helped create. May your spirit soar as high as your falsetto, may your wings spread in effortless flight.

Thank you for the harmonies, the memories, and the love. Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, Love leaves a memory no one can steal.

I’ll miss you forever, my beloved cousin.
– Mike

Remembering Sonny

Delray Beach lost another contributor June 5 with the passing of Harold “Sonny” Van Arnem.

Mr. Van Arnem was 84.

I’ve known Sonny since the early 90s, and we recently met for lunch a few times to catch up. Sonny was a fascinating guy with a fascinating history in tech, real estate and hospitality. He was always thinking about the future and always looking for innovative ways to make a difference.

Locally, he was active in educational causes and served on the Downtown Development Authority and Chamber Board. He was very proud of the new Hampton Inn he opened on U.S. 1 which was named for his son Adam.

He was a unique man. I will miss seeing him around town. May he rest in peace.

A Fitting Honor

It was wonderful see a post office in Delray Beach renamed to honor Benjamin Ferencz, a Nuremberg war crimes prosecutor, human rights champion and long-time resident of Kings Point in west Delray.

The post office at 14280 S Military Trail was renamed this month. Mr. Ferencz passed away two years ago at age 103. He was a truly remarkable man.

As a war crimes investigator and a Nuremberg prosecutor, Ferencz witnessed the horrifying effects of Nazi crimes. He became convinced that the world can prevent such atrocities only by outlawing and systematically punishing aggressive war and acts of genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes. He devoted his career to creating an international system of justice that protects everyone’s right to live in peace with dignity.

Mr. Ferencz became a celebrated figure around the world. 60 Minutes featured his work in a memorable segment and he was awarded a Congressional Gold Medal.

On October 30, 2023, U.S. Representative Lois Frankel introduced H.R. 6116, a bill to designate the facility of the U.S. Postal Service located at 14280 South Military Trail in Delray Beach, Florida, as the “Benjamin Berell Ferencz Post Office Building.” The bill was signed by President Biden on January 2, 2025.

9 June, 2025 0 Comments

On Being A Steward

June 9, 2025 By Jeff Perlman Leave a Comment

“Leaders need to be stewards of the things that work and innovators on new initiatives

and the things that are broken. Fix gently with humility.”

I saw this quote recently and I immediately wrote it down.

I can’t find who said it, but I wish I knew because I believe every single word. Especially the gentle part. Especially the humility piece. We are short of both these days.

I think we’ve lost our sense of stewardship and that should alarm all of us.

Being a steward asks us to be responsible with the gifts we’ve been given. Stewardship demands that we take care of the assets we’re tasked to protect.

In business it means we should never endanger the enterprise. In life it means we need to tend to those we cherish and in leadership it means don’t destroy, enhance if you can, but don’t break things that cannot be replaced.

Sadly, I believe we’ve lost the essence of leadership which is service. Too often, “leaders” position themselves as people to be served when their job is to serve others.

The best leaders make us feel safe when they are on the job, not fearful of retribution.

If you think I’m talking about the national situation– I am. But I’ve seen this dynamic play out on the local level too.

It’s a ruinous model.

It chases away the very people you need to build value, it screams stay away when we need to be inviting talent to the cause.

A corollary of this style of “serve me” leadership is the emergence of sycophants.

These are people who overlook every misdeed. They accept every lie, excuse every boneheaded decision and look the other way when lines are crossed. These types only hold the “other side” accountable.

That’s also ruinous.

I’ve seen this dynamic play out locally and nationally as well.

We are in a moment when everything we’ve previously cherished seems to be at risk.

Every ideal, every fact, every value, every bedrock of society seems to be under assault. All at once.

As a result, many of us don’t feel safe. There’s an aching sense that the once firm ground beneath our feet is shifting as if we live in quicksand. We reach for the life raft and a wave carries it away.

I’m reminded of a consultant that Boca and Delray used to use for City Commission goal setting.

Lyle Sumek was a former city administrator turned municipal sage. He travelled the country consulting with large and small cities. He saw what worked and what didn’t. I worked with him for 7 years. I thought his counsel was invaluable.

Lyle taught us the concept of ‘municipal math’ which I also believe applies to states and nations.

Basically, municipal math posits that it can take 20,30, 40 or more years to build something but only a few months to destroy what’s been built. It can take 10-20 years to restore what’s been lost–with no guarantee you’ll be able to do so.

Municipal math is cruel and unfair. It’s also a rock-solid truism. See Square, Old School for a local example.

Hence the need for stewards.

We’ve seen the guys with chain saws and the elected officials who tune out common sense and destroy beloved and valued institutions but the stewards…well they are a rare breed. They may have gone the way of the dodo bird. And that’s a shame. A costly damn shame.

Odd & Ends

Interesting stat:

A recent National Association of Realtors report confirms what many are seeing: the median age of homebuyers continues to rise, with the median buyer now age 56 which qualifies them for AARP benefits. The average repeat buyer rose from 45 in 2004 to over 60 in 2024, so the same generation is still buying the homes 20 years later.

Perhaps most troubling, however, is the rapid increase in age of first-time homebuyers over the past 10 years, which now sits at 38 years old—up from 30 in 2010.

Something has to give folks, an entire generation can’t get started.

Congratulations to former Delray Assistant City Manager Bob Barcinski who received his 40 years of service pin recently from an association of City Managers.

Mr. B. —as he is affectionately known—was a remarkable public servant, a quiet hero behind the scenes of so much progress in Delray Beach. He’s retired now and last I saw him (a week or so ago) he looked relaxed and happy. Well done, my friend.

More congratulations to everyone’s friend Captain Gary Ferreri of the Delray PD.

Capt. Ferreri was named “Supervisor of the Year” at the recent Delray Citizens for Delray Police Gala at the Opal Resort.

Over the past year, Captain Ferreri supervised multiple specialty units—including Vice, Narcotics, Criminal Intelligence, and our Problem Oriented Policing Teams—while also leading the successful rollout of Delray’s new downtown camera system. From securing funding and selecting equipment to managing installation, his work has helped strengthen public safety and modernize our policing infrastructure.

He’s also a great guy so this is extra special to see him being recognized.

I also want to take this opportunity to thank Police Chief Russ Mager for his 29 years of service to Delray.

Russ resigned last week and will be replaced at least on an interim basis by Darrell Hunter, a fine man and officer.

I watched Chief Mager climb the ranks and always respected his dedication to the job and the community. He will be missed and remembered.

There’s a whole lot of “stuff” playing out in both our police and fire departments right now. I’m rooting for cooler heads to prevail. I will say this based on 38 years of closely witnessing the impact the police and fire departments have had on our town. There is no better investment than public safety. None. These are expensive services–I get it—but they are essential services. Whatever you like or enjoy or value about Delray Beach was made possible because people felt safe to invest here. We can lose it, if we are not careful. And remember municipal math is cruel.

Finally, congratulations to Delray’s own Coco Gauff, French Open champion!

2 June, 2025 0 Comments

The Other Washington

June 2, 2025 By Jeff Perlman Leave a Comment

I just took a business trip to Washington D.C.

I came back inspired.

Now Washington and inspiration are rarely used in the same sentence these days but I came back full of patriotic fervor—albeit with a dash of melancholy.

First, Washington is a beautiful city.

The office buildings and museums are stunning, the monuments magnificent and the flowers provide an invigorating splash of color this time of year.

It’s fun to walk around and marvel at the sites and to soak up the energy of an important and substantial city.

We took a day trip to Baltimore for a few meetings and the vibe there was decidedly different.

Baltimore is a mystery to me.

It has great “bones” so to speak, row houses, several great universities, a picturesque harbor and a world class hospital. It also suffers from substantial blight, including thousands of abandoned buildings.

Based on its assets, you’d think Baltimore would be thriving, but it struggles. Years after the show ended, it still feels like you’ve arrived on the set of the great HBO series “The Wire.” But hope abides and we visited two amazing foundations hard at work to heal and help Baltimore.

The Annie E. Casey Foundation and the Goldseker Foundation were gracious enough to meet with me and my colleagues at the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation to share their work and best practices. We left energized and educated.

Baltimore has dedicated people who continue to believe. That makes a big difference.

Back in D.C. we met with the wonderful people at the Bainum Family Foundation, the Aspen Institute, the Smithsonian Institution and the National Portrait Gallery to discuss the state of philanthropy, our nation and the possibilities that lie ahead as we gear up to celebrate America’s 250th birthday.

Across town at the Capitol, Congress passed the “big, beautiful bill” at 4 a.m. while we slept. I doubt anyone read all 1,100 pages.

Democrats see the bill as catastrophic. Republicans hailed it as a nation changing (for the better) investment that will lower taxes and increase border security. Two vastly different perspectives that dovetail with the state of our nation these days.

I happened to fly to Washington seated next to my Congresswoman Lois Frankel. It was happenstance. I’ve known Rep. Frankel for a long time. We were mayors together back in the day, Lois in West Palm, me in Delray.

Also, on the plane, surrounded by a phalanx of Secret Service, was Eric Trump. Yes, he flew commercial.

Frankel and Trump—two ends of our national spectrum.

One side believes we are making America great again, the other believes we are in danger of losing our Republic.

Never the twain shall meet, wrote Kipling. Rudyard’s old poem proves prophetic. We are so different it feels like we can never be brought together again. That saddens me, it ought to sadden all of us.

But when we landed, I saw the Washington Monument, the beauty of the Old Executive Office Building, the grandeur of the White House and the magnificence of the Smithsonian. And briefly my melancholy for a more united United States lifted–for just a moment.

We toured the newly built African American History Museum, toured the National Portrait Gallery and met with the men and women who bring these places to life.

We got insights from the head of the Marriott Family Foundation and the president of the National Center for Family Philanthropy who also happened to be the person who shepherded the “Giving Pledge” which is an effort by the nation’s richest to donate their life’s savings to charity upon their deaths. Not every rich person is an oligarch. But the oligarchs seem to get more attention than those who use their money to help people. It seems in vogue to be all out of empathy these days.

But from these philanthropic experts and historians we heard about innovative ways to impact problems, help those in need and move our nation forward.

All are concerned about our current state of polarization and dysfunction, but all are confident that we will have a brighter future.

On our third day in D.C. I awoke to the news that two young Israeli Embassy employees were murdered outside the Capital Jewish Museum, a few blocks from where we were staying.

The news shocked and saddened me. The two young people were known as “bridge builders.” We can hardly afford to lose those willing to extend a hand across the divide. And so, amidst my pride and hope, in crept a feeling of melancholy. Sometimes it can feel crushing.

But the people I had the privilege of meeting are smart, gentle and empathetic individuals dedicating their lives to the betterment of our world.

They are data driven but lead with heart and compassion— as all leaders should.

They are better than our politics.

The best of us serve. The best of us empower. We build up instead of tear down.

So, I hold on to my optimism about the future despite the headwinds which are substantial and at times seemingly intractable. But I also know that until ‘we the people’ demand more from our politics and our parties (both of them) we will never get to the promised land. We will never reach our potential as a nation.

Division, corruption, money, partisanship, chaos and plain old meanness are in the way of what we can be.

We need more independent leaders and far fewer sycophants who put their wallets and careers above the country’s future.

A visit to Washington reminds me of why I love America. I feel blessed to have been born, raised and educated here (thanks to the sacrifices of my immigrant grandparents).

It’s time to insist on a better path forward. America and its people, the world and its people deserve leaders focused on the future not the next political or financial opportunity.

I saw “the other Washington”. It’s full of wonder and possibilities. It deserves the support of those who currently spend their days fighting.

They are endangering the greatest nation this world has ever seen.

26 May, 2025 8 8 Comments

The Best of Us

May 26, 2025 By Jeff Perlman 8 Comments

Bound for College Founder Mark Sauer seen here with super volunteer Chuck Halberg.

In honor of Memorial Day: “Our debt to the heroic men and valiant women in the service of our country can never be repaid. They have earned our undying gratitude. America will never forget their sacrifices.” – President Harry S. Truman

I was sitting at the bar at the Hay-Adams Hotel in Washington when I got the news.

My friend, Mark Sauer had passed away.

I was in Washington on a business trip and stopped into the historic Off the Record bar to relax after several days of nonstop meetings when I got the news that literally took my breath away.

Mark was not only a friend, he was an inspiration and a personal hero of mine.

I got to know Mark when he founded Delray Students First which later became Bound for College.

The nonprofit is changing the lives of local students who without the help of Mark and the organization would never be able to go college. Many are the first in their families to get a higher education.

This effort is changing lives. This effort is saving lives and this effort is breaking the cycle of poverty. And it’s all because of Mark Sauer’s passionate and relentless work on behalf of young people who became his life.

He brought love, energy, ideas, grit, resilience and intellect to the cause. Mark’s dedication attracted a legion of donors, volunteers, tutors and students to the mission. Mark sparked a movement; losing him is simply devastating and beyond words.

Over the years, Mark and I became good friends. We adore his wife Donna who worked alongside him and helped Mark build something so beautiful and so special. That mission will go on.

The Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation is proud to support Bound for College. We knew that betting on Mark was a sure thing because he brought his heart to the work, making sure the kids had all they needed to make it. He spoke to teachers, coaches and employers. He handled dental and health issues, got involved with the families of those he served and led with love.

Mark and I had many conversations over the years. Usually at Granger’s where we discussed the great issues of the day and Mark’s plans for the kids he cared for so deeply. He was all about them.
He was all about changing the trajectory of their lives. I will miss our talks. He taught me, encouraged me and inspired me. And so many others can say the same thing.

His heart, his mindset was focused solely on the future. He wanted to help as many kids as possible and he was doing it.

Bound for College is spreading across the county and it’s making a difference.

Mark took on this work, this labor of love after a remarkable career in business which included running theme parks, the Pittsburgh Pirates, the St. Louis Cardinals and the St. Louis Blues. Mark was modest about his career, but he was very proud of his efforts on behalf of young children who needed a helping hand. He fell in love with Delray Beach and he changed this place for the better. He woke up everyday focused on his mission: helping kids who needed it.

His work will continue and the dividends of that work will last generations.

I will miss him terribly. We all will.

But I want to celebrate Mark’s many accomplishments. I want to remember and appreciate his heart for children who needed a helping hand for a chance at a better life. Mark was that hand and that heart for so so many. His influence will live on in the lives of these wonderful young people Mark discovered and nurtured. He saw them. He saw their limitless potential. He saw their promise and their need and he dedicated his life to meeting those needs. He gave them an opportunity, a hand-up, not a hand-out and they took it and ran with it to places we cannot yet imagine.

Their lives are better because of Mark and Bound for College. He was the best of America. He was the best of us and his heart will live on.

J&J’s

Last week we also learned that J&J’s Seafood was closing June 14 after 26 wonderful years.

John and Tina Hutchinson are terrific people and restaurateurs and this news saddened their fans—my wife and I among them.

It’s where we got engaged so J&J’s holds a special place in our hearts.

Along with Granger’s, J&J’s was a longtime go-to restaurant, a place where I can walk from my office and have a great meal and enjoy excellent and friendly service.

John is an immensely talented chef and his creativity is legendary.

This great, good place will be dearly missed. I hold out hope that they can find a place in our high rent town. Their team is precious and special and we need that kind of hospitality in our community. My heart goes out to the wonderful people who made this restaurant soar for a generation. Here’s looking at you Claudia and Courtney.
We wish for more.

16 May, 2025 6 6 Comments

Granger’s Was A Great, Good Place

May 16, 2025 By Jeff Perlman 6 Comments

Granger’s Grille.

Note: This is an early version of the blog. I’m traveling to our nation’s capital next week on business and won’t be at my desk to write and post Monday. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion in your inbox.

I’m going to miss Granger’s.

The iconic restaurant on Federal Highway closed its doors last week with a sad sign off on Facebook thanking patrons for their loyalty.

I’d like to thank Granger’s for their grilled cheese, their turkey burgers and their home-made chips—which were unparalleled. Granger’s Grille felt like the Delray version of “Cheers”—a place where everybody knew your name. We need these kinds of places; in fact we crave them.

It was interesting to see the reaction to the surprise announcement. Lots of regulars expressed genuine sadness at the news and lamented the loss of yet another local staple—and a relatively affordable one at that. Across the border in Boca, I watched a similar reaction to the news that Belzers Hardware announced that it was closing after many decades. Locals talked about shopping at Belzers in the 50s.

We feel these losses somewhere deep in our souls. These places are what make us feel that we’re home.

As for me, I’m still mourning the closure of The Annex in Pineapple Grove—but the loss of Granger’s stings even more.

Granger’s was my “go-to”, an easy answer for lunch, a place where it was easy to park, the wait staff was friendly, and best of all you can always count on finding at least six other friends among the tables.

I was a frequent flier at Granger’s for years—first at their old location near Rex’s Hair Salon (also gone but never forgotten) and later at the new location which was spacious and featured easy and ample parking. I was there at least 1-2 times a week, even during Covid, when they were a great place to pick-up some tasty take-out.

I finally mastered the credit card machine, a considerable accomplishment for a tech luddite such as myself. And while I never made it to rib night, I had planned too. But alas that opportunity has passed unless of course they find a new location and get the band back together. (One can hope).

My friends in the restaurant business tell me times are tough for independent proprietors. Food costs are high, insurance is expensive, the workforce can’t afford to live here and rents are astronomical. There’s also an immense amount of competition. It can’t be easy to fill seats on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and the summers are long, hot and devoid of snowbirds. It’s hard to know when and if our friends from Canada will return; who can blame them.

But all I know is that places like Granger’s are important.

Life is funny, you never know when your last time doing (fill in the blank) will be. We remember the first times, but we often don’t recognize last times.

My “last time” at Grangers was two weeks ago when I had a chance to have lunch with the legendary Tony Allerton and the soon to be legendary Steve English.

Tony is a long-time friend. He’s a local icon who has literally saved thousands of lives through his work at The Crossroads Club.

Tony is in his 90s now, sharp as a tack and still working.

We share a lot of history and a love for Granger’s, what I call a “great, good place” —a phrase I’m borrowing from Ray Oldenburg.

Mr. Oldenburg is gone now. But he made a great and lasting contribution to our culture. He was an urban sociologist who coined the term “third place” to describe the importance of informal gathering spaces—coffee shops, parks, bookstores, cultural venues and the like.

First place is the home, second place is the workplace, and third places are the anchors of community life where we find connection and community.

They are important civic assets.

Oldenburg’s ideas remain influential, and the best cities embrace his “Third Place” philosophy by encouraging and supporting these gathering spots.

According to experts, there are several characteristics of a third place.

A third place accepts people from all walks of life.

Conversation is the focus.

They are accessible and accommodating.

There are regulars who hang out.

They tend to be low profile.

They are playful, fun and casual.

They are “a home away from home.”

Granger’s ticked most if not all those boxes.

Sadly, third places are declining.

We don’t go to the movies anymore, we don’t join bowling leagues like we used to do and service clubs are struggling to attract young members.

We do play pickleball, so that’s a plus.

Anyway, Grangers was a great, good place. I sure hope they find another location. But if they don’t, I will cherish the memories. I’m already wistful when I drive by….

This week, I was honored to eulogize my friend Nancy Stewart-Franczak, who passed away recently. A huge crowd turned out on a rainy night at the Delray Beach Golf Club to pay tribute to a woman who meant so much to so many. Nancy’s loss leaves a huge void in the lives of her husband, her family, her friends, work colleagues and the communities she served with her outstanding special events.

I got several requests to share my remarks so here they are…

Delray Beach has lost a true friend.

There are no words to adequately describe what Nancy meant to her family, her friends, her community.

We loved her.

She loved all of us, touched all of us, inspired all of us and led by example.

She was tough and soft. Resilient and loving. Determined and sensitive. She was fun and funny, warm and wise.

She put this town on the map with her vision and grit. She was a force —full of ideas and the rare visionary who not only dreamed big but had the skill to execute on those dreams.

She made so much happen. So much. It’s staggering what she accomplished with a small but powerful team. But she was always humble. Always willing to listen and always open to new things. Nancy never stopped growing. She never stopped learning, and she never stopped dreaming. She set an example for all of us.

I’ve had a few days to reflect on my friend Nancy and I’m left with a bunch of emotions: I feel deep sadness over this loss, I’m in awe of her legacy and like you I’m absolutely heartbroken. We were not prepared to let Nancy go… Somehow, we thought that Nancy was indestructible.

But while she is no longer here with us, she will always be with us in spirit. And the seeds she planted, the dreams she realized, will long endure.

She touched so many, so deeply. And I think I know why.

It’s because she was genuine.

In a fast-moving transactional world, our Nancy was real and rooted.

She wore her passion on her sleeve, spoke her mind and loved this place. She loved Delray Beach, even when the powers that be didn’t love her back.

What I’ve seen in the past few weeks is a tremendous outpouring of love from people in this community that Nancy touched. They never went away. They never left her side. Nancy’s community never left her. And she never left our side either. She never stopped taking pride in a community she helped to build.

I saw Nancy weather a lot in recent years. Illness. Pain. Toxic politics.

I debated whether to mention what Nancy and her team at FMG went through relative to the Garlic Fest.

But I think the story is essential to Nancy’s story and a testament to her strength and character.

It’s also a teachable moment. And it has a happy ending because after 9 years, Garlic Festival is coming back. And Nancy knew that. Her pride and joy is coming back to Delray; where she wanted it to be, and where it belongs.

I was mayor when Nancy asked me and Diane, then the CRA Director to travel with her to Gilroy California to show us what a Garlic Festival can mean to a community.

She wanted me to see her vision. She was going to build a festival that gave back to Delray. And she did. Because when Nancy set out to do something it got done.

When the powers that be sent her away, she stood her ground. She told her story. She stood up and spoke truth to power.

It was during this time that we grew closer. Being forced to take Garlic Festival to a new location was hard for Nancy and her team. But they made it work, and the festival grew. But she never gave up on bringing it home.

This is where we saw Nancy’s strength. We saw her faith. Her ability to pivot like all great entrepreneurs and her ability to reinvent and grow her business with other signature events.

She led by example, and she set an example.

When our community learned of Nancy’s passing, we saw a tremendous outpouring of love and respect.

Words like icon, visionary, resilience and kindness were used to describe Nancy.

I can add many: honest, loving, passionate and courageous are just a few that come to mind. Nancy was something else; she was truly remarkable.

I hope we have learned to appreciate and respect these special people in our midst. That’s the teachable moment.

Cities are cities. It’s the special people who show up, roll up their sleeves and get to work that make them special. It’s people like Nancy who make our hometowns feel like home.

Nancy’s life was devoted to building community, she benefited several cities in the area but none more than Delray.

We need to cherish people like Nancy. The people in this room certainly do. We need to insist that the visionaries in our midst are treated with grace and compassion. That’s what makes or breaks a village. Nancy knew that. She got up every day and worked hard to strengthen the village. And she succeeded. With kindness, humor and a fierce determination that made her uniquely our Nancy.

I’ll conclude by saying that I felt very close to Nancy. She was easy to talk to; we laughed together and cried a few times too. She was a loyal friend. A trusted confidant and someone I deeply respected. I loved her. We all did.

Her memory will be a blessing to all of us…she’ll live forever in our hearts.

Last week, during a visit to Maine, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was in a storm with winds so strong that bricks were flying.

In the dream, I was dodging the bricks.

When I awoke, I thought about the dream and what it may have meant.

I think I figured it out, I was listening to a song the day before by Willie Nelson, it’s called “It’s Open Season on my Heart.” There’s a line in the song that I think may have prompted my dream. Here’s the line.

The days go by like flying bricks

Leave gaping holes too deep to fix.

When we reach a certain stage of life, we start to lose people who are essential to us.

Every day the bricks are flying and sometimes they hit us and leave gaping holes too deep to fix.

Losing Nancy leaves a gaping hole to deep to fix. But while the loss hurts, we wouldn’t trade a moment, because the love we’ve experienced transcends the loss.

To Nancy’s husband John, I’m so sorry for your loss. You’ve shared with me your faith that she is with G-d. We wish you peace during this difficult time.

To Nancy’s family. Thank you for sharing Nancy with us. She enriched our lives immensely.

To Nancy’s family at FMG…I know how hard this has been for you. I hope you feel the support of an appreciative community who very much want you to continue Nancy’s remarkable work. We love the FMG team. And we love Nancy…