A Valentine…

I’m a lucky man.

In my life, I’ve had four women take my breath away.

Three of those women were in their 60s, 70s and 80s when they reached into some place deep in my soul and left me breathless; proof that time makes the best people even better.

The fourth woman I married and like a fine wine…well… just say life’s gotten better as we’ve aged.

Those women were H. Ruth Pompey, Elizabeth Wesley, Frances Bourque and my wife Diane.

How many men can make such a claim?  And when I tell you there are others who set fire to my mind, I’m telling the truth. I’m looking at you Susan Ruby, Lula Butler, Nancy Stewart- Franczak and Jen Costello-Robertson. And there are others too. I’m a very lucky man. My Valentine’s well is deep.

Shakespeare said it best: “the earth has music for those who listen.”

I’ve learned to listen.

But even if you are tone deaf, there are those who are so special that you are compelled to listen; you have no choice but to listen.

Here’s how it happens.

When I first met Hattie Ruth Pompey, I was 23 years old and new to Delray Beach. I was working for the local newspaper and anxious to learn about my new beat. One day the phone at the newspaper rang and on the other end was the legendary C. Spencer Pompey.

I had heard about Mr. Pompey and his wife when I first started writing about Delray Beach. Mr. Pompey was a civil rights pioneer, a writer, a coach and educator. He was universally respected. Mr. Pompey was a quiet leader, but when he spoke you listened, and it was always worth it.

Mr. Pompey asked me to meet with him and his wife at their home which sat across the street from a park named after them.

I jumped at the chance. I remember being extremely nervous when I knocked on their door.

I was immediately put at ease by Mrs. Pompey when she answered the door and invited me to sit in her living room. For the next several hours, I listened to their stories about Delray Beach, how the beach was integrated, their experiences in the Civil Rights movement and their belief that Delray Beach could be a beacon for a better America.

It was heady stuff. I soaked it in.

The Pompey’s made it clear that they were meeting with me in the hope that I would stick around their town and use the power of the pen and my position at the time (local reporter) to tell the stories necessary to move our town forward. Again, I was 23. This was a little hard to grasp, but I fell in love with them that afternoon. Their honesty, their depth, their knowledge and their kindness were transforming. I went in as an excited cub reporter and left feeling like I was on an important mission.

My friendship with the Pompey’s continued and looking back it was an apprenticeship of sorts.

When I was elected to the City Commission in 2000, those lessons continued with regular visits and calls. When Mr. Pompey passed, I was asked to speak at his funeral which was  held at Cason United Methodist Church to accommodate the large crowd.

After that honor, I grew closer to Mrs. Pompey and when she got ill a few years later many of us participated in a blood drive to help.

After she recovered, she called me “Cousin Jeff” because she said we now shared our blood and were officially family. She even made a video featuring the cousin routine. That’s   something that I treasure and find myself watching again and again. She took my breath away with her kindness, grace and beauty.

Around the same time as I was enjoying a deepening friendship with the Pompey’s, I got to know and fall in love with Elizabeth “Libby” Wesley.  Many consider Libby the “mother” of Delray.

Libby had a certain something that I’ve never experienced before. I couldn’t get through a conversation with her without fighting back tears—that’s how much she moved me with her words. I don’t know what it was, but she was magic. Perhaps it was her love of people and community. Perhaps it was her faith in this community and her belief in our youth. Whatever it was, touched something very deep inside of me.

Ms. Wesley was an educator, but she was also a visionary. She saw the best in people. She envisioned limitless possibilities.

Libby founded the Roots Cultural Festival and because she was a catalyst, she got everyone involved. Before we knew it, we found ourselves judging conch fritter contests (celebrating Delray’s ties to the Bahamas), attending oratory and math competitions showcasing the ability of our youth and watching NBA prospects compete in the Roots basketball tournament.

Libby was the first to mention to me the concept of the Delray “covenant” which asked elected officials to be cognizant and respectful of their power to empower and help all communities in our diverse city. You either kept the covenant or you broke it. There was no in between.

When I was termed out in 2007, Libby gave me a cassette tape, a gift really. In her beautiful voice she read Langston Hughes’ poem “Mother to Son.” I got the message. And once again, she got me all vaklempt (look it up). Again.

Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor—

Bare.

But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now—

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

 

That poem….

Oh, how I miss Libby.

Which brings me to Frances Bourque.

Frances is a friend, a mentor, a heroine, an inspiration and someone who is always there for the people she loves. I’m one of her “guys” —I think there are five or six of us—and we are lucky to be in this group.

Frances founded Old School Square, but to my mind, she was the catalyst who ignited all of Delray and brought it back from the bleak days of the 80s.

We often forget, but Delray was dull, blighted, crime riddled and struggling in those days. However, Frances saw a gem in a dilapidated old school at the corner of Atlantic and Swinton. Could there be a better location in which to jumpstart a town?

The prime location was marred by a chain link fence and a crumbling campus that symbolized our town in those days. But Frances saw potential and sparked a movement to create a community based cultural arts center that enabled us to bond, plan, grow close, hear each other out and move forward.

Old School Square is where we met to celebrate and plan the future.  It was also a place where we gathered to mourn—together.

After 9/11. When we discovered that several of the terrorists were living in our town.

After the Jerrod Miller shooting which was 20 years ago this month.

We gathered there to celebrate our All America City wins and plan our downtown.  We met annually for town hall meetings and held the visioning sessions that put our city on the national map.

Those plans—Visions 2000, the Downtown Master Plan, the Cultural Plan—created the momentum that built economic and social value. The specifics are long forgotten, the process too, but the value created endures. Yes, it lasts.

The relationships endure too. They carve a story in our hearts. The special people change our lives.

Some day I will write a book about Diane, the woman I married. We are still writing the chapters so it will have to wait, but I am writing it all down in my heart. Every bit of it. She also contributed to the evolution of Delray, in a big way as Director of Planning and as CRA director. Every day I count my blessings. Every day I give thanks.

Ruth, Libby, Frances and Diane. That’s a pretty good roster of amazing women.

My wish is that you think back on the special people in your lives and savor every moment with those who fill your heart and take your breath away.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

 

The Future May Be Here

I ran into my old friend Kelly Smallridge while attending an event recently at the beautifully restored Delray Beach Club.

Kelly is the longtime president and CEO of the Business Development Board of Palm Beach County. I did two stints on her board over the years and had the privilege of watching Kelly at work. Palm Beach County is fortunate to have her. She’s great at what she does. Her practice is economic development. Her job is to sell Palm Beach County as a great place to live, work, learn and play.

Kelly does all that and more. She’s also a visionary. She’s the architect of  a campaign called “Wall Street South” that has rapidly gone from dream to reality.
I was involved with the BDB when that phrase was coined and Kelly reminded me that when the term was first introduced it was often greeted with laughter.

Yes, we have sunshine and no income taxes. Yes, we have an emerging cultural scene and lots of wonderful beaches, but it’s doubtful New York City’s movers and shakers spent much time thinking about us as a place to do business or as competition for Wall Street.

But fast forward a few years and here we are. Financial firms are pouring into the area and Wall Street South is suddenly very real.

At the same event, I ran into Brian Seymour, the chair of the Business Development Board, and a prominent land use attorney at Gunster. In his roles, Brian gets to see a lot. And he’s seeing a lot. A whole lot of investment, plans, vision and excitement for Palm Beach County.

Early beneficiaries are West Palm Beach, Palm Beach Gardens and Boca Raton.

We are experiencing huge investment in the office sector (once written off as dead), retail, industrial and residential asset classes. It’s something to see. You can feel the change that’s happening. It’s in the air.

I felt the excitement last week, when we caught up with our friends at 1909, an exciting business incubator/accelerator in West Palm Beach. The Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation is an investor in this wonderful nonprofit.

We have seen the group reach hundreds of entrepreneurs with an array of programs. They also build community, which is important for entrepreneurs.  They are moving into beautiful new office space in downtown West Palm, and we got to visit with an array of business owners who are seeing their dreams come to life while taking advantage of the support services offered by 1909.

At the event, we talked to County Commissioner Gregg Weiss who spoke about the county’s investment in 1909 and we learned that Boca Raton has invested as well. Both governments will surely see a return on that investment as 1909 grows.

The same week we experienced these meet-ups with people hard at work making things happen in our county, we watched with amazement a meeting in Boca Raton in which the City Council weighed four proposals to re-imagine 30 acres of their downtown, including their City Hall campus. It’s a multibillion bet that— if done right— has the potential to remake an already successful city. And that’s an important distinction. Boca’s leadership isn’t content to coast or rely on its past success, it’s striving and aspiring for more.

That will be music to some people’s ears and nails on a blackboard to others. But change doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game, you can evolve and hold onto your soul. You can progress and keep the good stuff too.

But it’s hard and it requires leadership that is not only visionary, but vigilant and sensitive to the needs and concerns of all stakeholders.

Often cities respond only to the loudest voices, which tend to protect the status quo. The need and concerns of existing residents and business owners are super important, but there is also a very strong need to consider the future, which includes people who will eventually want to live and work in your city.

It’s a balance. More art than science.

Watching the workshop, I was struck by the comments of Stephen Ross whose Related Ross company is a bidder on the project.

Mr. Ross (who owns the Dolphins) has gobbled up a ton of downtown West Palm Beach real estate, including old and new office projects. Ross sees this area as the next “Silicon Valley” and predicts that Boca will be the equivalent of Palo Alto in that scenario. He sees Palm Beach County as offering the “greatest opportunity” in America.

“I believe this will become the most important place in America, going forward, from a business standpoint,” Ross told the Boca Council.

That’s heady stuff.

Many regions have aspired to be the “next Silicon Valley” including our region with an effort called the “Internet Coast.”

Personally, I think cities and regions should aspire to forge their own identities, but I think Ross makes a larger point. We are rapidly turning into something different, something significant too.

Like anything in life, change brings both good and not so good consequences.  No doubt, there will be opportunity and lots of money flying around.

Recently, Lake Worth Beach, which has enormous potential (untapped and sometimes unrealized) received an unsolicited $355 million bid to redevelop its waterfront casino and nearby golf course from a group that includes Stiles Corporation and golf great Jack Nicklaus.

The proposal includes two Hyatt Hotels. Interesting.

In addition, the new Trump administration is clearly a factor in our backyard with Mar A Lago serving as a magnet for an array of lobbying and public affairs firms seeking local digs to be near the nexus of power—at least for the next four years.

Still, there are headwinds that we should be mindful of. Those of us who came decades ago or who are natives found an affordable paradise in South Florida. That is no longer the case.
Housing costs, food costs, insurance costs and divisive and often corrosive politics have changed the personality of our region.

Executives from Related Ross, including a young executive who grew up in Boca’s Mill Pond neighborhood but went elsewhere to build his career, promised to bring jobs to Boca so that future generations won’t have to head to New York and California for career growth.

That’s wonderful, it truly is. It’s hard not to get swept up when a proven visionary like Stephen Ross outlines a big (and I think achievable future) but it would be folly if we create a place that displaces those who can’t afford seven figure homes. If we can’t accommodate teachers, nurses, restaurant workers and essential service providers we will cease being a place.

Years ago, I was part of a group that brought the president of the Silicon Valley Leadership Group to Lynn University for a conversation. We had a conversation about success, innovation, invention and technology. It was fascinating. But at the time and to this day, Silicon Valley struggles with a lack of attainable housing.

We struggle mightily with this issue now; can you imagine what it will be like if Ross’ prediction comes true.

Affordability, insurance, mobility and fostering enlightened and effective leadership are complex topics. Ignore them at your own risk.

Market forces will prevail, and change is inevitable and often desirable. But smart leaders and smart communities plan, shape and lead the way into the future.

These are interesting times. Frankly we’ve lost a lot of ground relative to affordability already. But it’s never too late to course correct, prepare and innovate.

Here’s to the future.

 

Notes:

A heartfelt congratulations to Assistant Police Chief Jeff Rasor on his new position as chief of police in Manalapan, just up the street from Delray.

Chief Rasor served 22 years with the Delray Police Department and distinguished himself every step of the way up the ladder. I got to know Chief Rasor when he spearheaded the Criminal Justice Academy at Atlantic High School, a program the commission I served on championed along with then principal Kathy Weigel. Jeff created a great program that fed a lot of talent from the academy into service to our city.

We wish Jeff lots of success and thank him for his dedicated service.

Delray continues to mint chiefs of police. It’s a very proud legacy.

 

 

 

Here’s To The Future

Your future self is a stranger.

I woke up recently with those six words in my head.

I don’t know where they came from—a dream, a fleeting thought– but there they were.

Maybe that happens to you often, but it’s a rare occasion where I wake up with a saying in my head.

Paul McCartney woke up with the song that would become “Yesterday” rattling around his brain. His initial title for the song was “scrambled eggs.” Keith Richards allegedly dreamt the riff to “Satisfaction” which became a classic.

We may not be a Beatle or a Stone, but I think it benefits us mortals to listen when our inner voices speak to us.

Your future self is a stranger.

I began to think about the phrase and what it may mean.

Maybe my future self will sleep better, learn to love avocados and acquire a taste for lobster. I do spend time in Maine, and it would be convenient to like those bug-eyed crustaceans. Instead, I sympathize with them and wish that they could somehow find their way out of the tanks and back to the sea.

But I digress.

Artificial intelligence is all we hear about these days so I plugged the six word phrase into AI and got this answer: “Your future self is a stranger means that when you imagine yourself far into the future, you perceive that person as someone completely different from who you are now, almost like a person you’ve never met before, indicating a potential disconnect between your current identity and how you envision yourself later in life; often leading to poor decision-making regarding long-term goals due to a lack of connection with that future self.”

Whoa!

That’s interesting so I went a little further with Google AI.

“Viewing your future self as a stranger can lead to behaviors like not saving enough for retirement, neglecting health, or making impulsive choices because you don’t feel responsible for that future person’s well-being.”

And that’s where AI lost me, at least on this subject.

I happen to be saving for retirement, I am trying hard to be healthier and I haven’t made an impulsive choice since opting for a solid color shirt over plaid in 1992. Let’s just say that I work hard to be intentional—the opposite of impulsive.

So, I put away the AI and I went back to my old steady—my brain. As flawed as it is.

And here’s what I came up with.

For a very long time, I felt that I was driven by three words: leadership, entrepreneurship and community. I can’t remember the impetus for the three-word model, it may have been an exercise, an article, a therapy session—something that prompted me to name my passions.

But for the longest time that’s where I’ve focused—the study of leadership, the study and practice of entrepreneurship and involvement in community.

All three words still animate and interest me. But…there’s been a shift.

I may have met my future self and far from being a stranger he’s the same old guy, with slightly different interests/passions these days.

I asked myself what are my three words today? What do I want my three words in the future to be?

And I came up with creativity, philanthropy and relationships/faith. Admittedly, that may be four words, but relationships and faith may be connected. Let me explain.

As we get older, we begin to lose people who matter to us. It’s an inevitable part of life. Readers of this blog have joked that it has turned into a local obituary/eulogy page. Perhaps. But I feel it’s important to remember and reflect when we lose someone who meant something to our little slice of the world.

Our time is precious. And limited too. We are fragile beings. “Tomorrow is not guaranteed” is not just a saying, it’s our reality. It’s a reality that inevitably bites all of us.

As a result, relationships become precious too. Quality time, with quality people equals happiness.

Faith and relationships are tied together because losing people who mean something to us is a hard thing to swallow. It’s scary. But maybe fear ends where faith begins. Maybe, if we can develop faith, we can believe that our souls go on and we may be together again with loved ones lost.

Creativity has become a driving force as well. The act of filling a blank screen orders my mind and brings me so much joy. I am never blocked, but some days are better than others. I’m finding new ways to be creative– playwriting, maybe another book or two, this blog (which has changed) and the opportunity to be creative at work in how we approach philanthropy.

Philanthropy.

Interesting word.

It comes from the Greek word “philein” which means “to love” and “anthropos” which means humankind.

That resonates with me.

Thanks for listening. Perhaps, this will spur you to think. If it does, my wish for you is to live with intent with the precious time we are given.

 

Miracle League

On Saturday evening, we ventured to Palm Beach Gardens to have “Dinner on the Diamond” an event that benefits the Miracle League of Palm Beach County.

For 20 years, my friends Jeff and Julia Kadel, have dedicated their lives to ensuring that all children regardless of their needs can play baseball.

It’s a simple, but beautiful and important mission and the program has grown enormously over the years. The league plays in Delray, Palm Beach Gardens and will soon add another location, a testament to the need and the quality of the program.

Julia Kadel is this year’s winner of the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation’s Catalyst Award, an honor that recognizes people who make good things happen in our community. Julia is a catalyst and so much more. She brings joy, love and passion to her work and she has changed the lives of many families.

We saw the depth of support on Saturday night when a huge crowd filled the field to have dinner, hear stories and celebrate the Miracle’s League’s mission.

A highlight for me, an old baseball fan, was to see one of my childhood heroes, Johnny Bench get up and sing Jeff and Julia’s praises. He called them his heroes and hall of famers in their own right.

Indeed.

If you want to learn more visit www.miracleleaguepalmbeachcounty.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She Had A Dream

Ms. Vera Farrington

Today, we celebrate the life, legacy and lessons of Martin Luther King Jr.

And I’m struck by the fact that this is the first MLK Day we will celebrate without Vera Farrington. Ms. Farrington, a friend to so many and an influence on generations of people in Delray Beach and beyond, passed away on Jan. 12. She will be deeply missed, and remembered for as long as we tell stories about those who paved the way.

Ms. Farrington was a founder and long-time champion of the S.D. Spady Museum. The Spady Museum, founded in 2001, is dedicated to discovering, collecting and sharing the Black history and heritage of Palm Beach County.

The opening of the museum was a dream come true for Ms. Farrington and it was her passion, commitment, energy and ability to get others excited about the vision that made it happen. If you haven’t visited the Spady Museum at 170 N.W. Fifth Avenue, please make it a point to do so. The museum, once the home of Delray’s first Black principal, Solomon D. Spady, has been lovingly and expertly restored. It anchors 5th Avenue, a wonderful street that features decorative sidewalks and a rich history.

That history was at risk of being lost before Ms. Farrington and several other leaders stepped forward to form EPOCH (Expanding and Preserving our Cultural History), the organization which incubated the Spady Museum.

I was fortunate to be around during that special era. I remember frequent meetings with Ms. Farrington, Daisy Fulton (a former executive director of the museum), the Pompey’s, Alfred “Zack” Straghn, Commissioner David Randolph and others and was moved by the passion behind the effort.

These visionaries understood the power of stories to shape our communities. They knew that if stories weren’t collected, preserved and presented history would fail to remember them and we’d all be poorer as a result.

The Spady Museum sponsors an array of programs and exhibits to share those stories with people of all ages, but especially important are their efforts to educate our children. Children were important to Ms. Farrington. She spent 37 years as an educator, shaping countless minds.

I’m reminded of an African proverb that is an essential part of the Spady Museum’s DNA and the spirit of Ms. Farrington: “Until the lions have their historians, the tales of the hunt will continue to glorify the hunter.”

I hope you ponder that beautiful and truthful phrase. It packs a lot of meaning into a few words.

History meant a lot to our friend Vera Farrington. And it meant a lot to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., as well.

So, Ms. Farrington and MLK are linked in spirit and deed.

Both believed in the importance of understanding history. Both saw stories as a crucial tool for driving social change and achieving civil rights. MLK often said that “we are made by history” – meaning our current realities are shaped by the past, and to create a better future, we must actively confront and learn from it.

Vera Farrington championed those ideals. Her legacy will endure until the lions have their historians.

A Wonderful Life

President Carter

Like many Americans, I didn’t think Jimmy Carter was a great president.
But also like many Americans, I think Jimmy Carter may have been our best former president.
President Carter, who passed recently at the age of 100, was a long term player. I like long term players. I think they hold great lessons for all of us.

When you reach a pinnacle, President, CEO, Governor or even mayor of a small town,  it’s just that, a pinnacle. Not The Pinnacle. There’s always more for us to do. More for us to accomplish and aspire too.

Last week, I shared an article with friends that talked about old age.
The article noted that we cease being young when we stop aspiring, when we stop dreaming about the future.
It’s fine to be nostalgic and it’s important to learn from and reflect on the past, but we can’t live there. We have to keep moving forward. We can’t stop dreaming. There’s more for us to do. President Carter was a great example of that.

President Carter never got old.

He was only 56 when he lost his reelection bid to Ronald Reagan. He lived another 44 years. And it was a remarkable 44 years filled with building homes, global diplomacy, writing, teaching and of course romancing his beloved wife Rosalynn.

My friend Scott was one of President Carter’s students at Emory. He speaks glowingly about President Carter and tells a remarkable story about running into him years later while on a trip to Greece. The president remembered his name.
Now, Scott is a memorable character but that’s impressive.

A week before President Carter’s death, I happened to listen to a podcast featuring the historian Kai Bird.
Bird recently wrote a book about Carter which sounds fascinating.
He believes that Jimmy Carter may have been the smartest man to occupy the Oval Office. He talked about President Carter’s rise from Plains, Georgia to leader of the free world with stops first in the Navy, the Georgia Senate and Governor’s mansion.
It’s a remarkable story. An only in America saga. We still produce those stories and that’s comforting.

Jimmy Carter was our first rock and roll president befriending the Allman Brothers, Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson.
That’s a cool tidbit, but the important takeaway of his life, is that he turned a bitter and decisive defeat into a triumphant second chapter.
He was a long term contributor and he never stopped serving his country and people in need.
Personally, I don’t understand leaders who fade away.
How can you care so much about a cause or a place or a business and then just disappear?
Now admittedly there’s a fine line.

You don’t want to be the quarterback hanging around the high school parking lot talking about glory days.  And the you don’t want to be the  micromanager lurking in the shadows pulling the strings.
But you can be the veteran presence providing support and advice when needed and when asked. You can advise and find other ways to serve when the spotlight shifts to someone else. And folks, the spotlight always shifts to someone else.

Jimmy Carter never stopped serving or caring. You may disagree with his politics but it’s hard to argue with his commitment.
We need more servant leaders. We need more people who care to stay engaged for the long run.
Remembering a Chief
Delray lost another contributor recently with the passing of former fire chief Bob Rehr.
Chief Rehr was a good man and I enjoyed working with him briefly after I was elected to the City Commission in 2000.
He had a long and distinguished career in the fire service. He spent 24 years with the Miami Fire Department and served as Fire Chief in West Palm Beach.  All told, he spent 37 years in the fire service.
He will be missed. We send our condolences to Chief Rehr’s family during this difficult time.

The Unforgettable Vinny Mintus

Vinny (left) and his partner Sam. Mentor to many, a cop’s cop, Vinny Mintus left an indelible mark in Delray and at the School District where he worked after retiring from the Delray PD.

There are some people that are simply unforgettable.
Vinny Mintus was one of those people.
He had a great smile. He had presence, charisma and a a wonderful sense of humor.
He was also tough as they come.

If he liked you, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. If you were a criminal you didn’t want Vinny to catch your case.
Vinny Mintus was a cop’s cop.
Vinny passed on New Year’s Day. It was sudden and shocking. And when I got the news I couldn’t believe it. It’s a gut punch to those of us who knew and loved Vinny. And to know Vinny was to love him.
Vinny Mintus was a legendary Delray Beach police officer, part of a special group of officers who saved this town and enabled any and all success we’ve enjoyed to take place. Let that sentence sink in. The Delray Beach Police Department saved this city.

That’s not an overstatement. I saw what these brave men and women did with my own eyes in the mid 80s and early 90s when Delray Beach was in the throes of a struggle with crack, crime and chaos. Entire neighborhoods in Delray were open air drug markets.
I had a chance to ride along with Vinny and many many others during that era. That experience shaped me and was an invaluable education.
And we saw progress, it took a combination of old school police work, relentless pressure on drug dealers and career criminals and community policing to turn the tide.
Our Police Department made it happen and continues to make it happen.  They deserve credit and respect. Without public safety, you have nothing.

A few years ago, the Delray Chamber held a series of civic education sessions designed to share the lessons learned that enabled Delray to thrive.
We tend to forget these lessons and if we do, we risk it all.
I invited Vinny to speak and he did a wonderful job explaining what it was like during the rough and tumble 80s. Vinny started his law enforcement career in 1977 in Miami-Dade County. He came to Delray in 1981. We were lucky that he did. He made a real and lasting difference.

Vinny was a great storyteller and took great pride in the department and his own experiences.
I never tired of hearing those stories. For me, they were full of lessons.
Vinny distinguished himself in so many ways. He was a great union president, a remarkable street cop, an excellent detective and became an indelible presence in Pineapple Grove walking that beat for years and holding court in the old Annex restaurant during lunch hour.
He became the mayor of that important street. He had all the requisite skills, a great smile, a generous laugh, warmth, toughness, smarts and vision. He was one of a kind.

When I heard the news my first thought was it couldn’t be true. Vinny seemed indestructible to me. After he retired from Delray he went to work for the School District Police. He was still doing background checks when we last spoke a few months back. As always, he sounded great. We traded stories and caught up on life. We talked about grabbing lunch, but it didn’t happen.

Vinny was proud of his son Andy, a Delray cop. Happy with his life and happy with his work.

Readers of this blog may recall that every year I have dinner with police and fire retirees at Arturo’s. It’s a tradition and a precious one.
This year, my friend, retired officer and detective Chuck Jeroloman, promised to bring a special surprise guest to dinner. We wondered who it might be. Turns out Vinny was the surprise. The dinner is next week and we will feel Vinny’s absence acutely.
My goodness it would have been amazing to see him and hear those great stories.

Days before his passing, Vinny spoke at the funeral of another legendary officer. Bill Bombacie, known as Bomber, recently passed. Vinny shared stories about what it took to turn the tide in Delray Beach.
My friends tell me he spoke with pride. That’s comforting.
That pride was earned. The hard way.
My friend Vinny was one of a kind.

This past week, I spoke with many people that he touched during his long career. He was beloved by local students who knew him as a DARE instructor, befriended local merchants downtown, and mentored a generation of amazing cops. He called me and others young man. I liked that, especially because it’s no longer true.
When I think of my friend Vinny Mintus,  the words “Terry’s Song” by Bruce Springsteen enter my head.

“ Well they built the Titanic to be one of a kind, but many ships have ruled the seas.

They built the Eiffel Tower to stand alone, but they could build another if they please.

Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt, are unique, I suppose. But when they built you brother, they broke the mold.”

The song concludes with a line that I believe in with every fiber of my being: “love is a power greater than death.”
And so it is.
Vinny, when they built you brother they broke the mold.
Thanks for mentoring a generation of amazing officers and for watching over our town so well for so long. You will be missed but never forgotten.

 

Traffic Blues

Traffic in Miami.

Around this time of year, many of us are feeling overwhelmed by congestion.

Tis the season for traffic.

Fa la la la …blah.

Yes, I am talking about annoying, frustrating traffic punctuated by bad drivers and pedestrians who are oblivious to DO NOT WALK signs that are there to stop you from being maimed by the—bad and good drivers.

Bah humbug.

Now I wish I had good news for you regarding this vexing topic.

I don’t. There are no quick fixes and solutions will require us to think differently; never an easy thing.

But I do have a few things for you to consider.

First, you are not sitting in traffic, you are traffic. We all contribute.

Second, traffic never gets better.

That may sound defeatist, but if you believe David Edmondson, a transportation planner and a consultant with the Edmondson Planning and Design firm in Washington D.C. building more lanes and more roads won’t solve the problem, in fact, it makes congestion worse.

The culprit is something called induced demand.

Here’s what Edmondson recently wrote in a cheery little article called “Why Traffic Never Gets Better.”

“In 1962, (economist) Anthony Downs wrote that there is a Fundamental Law of Highway Congestion: no matter how much road is built, the highway will end up congested again. In decades since then, the United States has undergone a massive experiment in expanding most major roads, leading to an additional conclusion: there is a Fundamental Law of Traffic Congestion impacting both highways and major roads. In both cases, congestion will return to previous levels about 5 years after a widening. This is the phenomenon known as induced demand.”

Researchers looking at this issue use a measure called “lane-miles” to get at how much road is being built. A lane mile is the length of the road multiplied by how many lanes it has—a mile of two-lane road is two lane-miles, for instance. Add another two lanes to that stretch and you’ve built another two lane-miles.

 

Studies differ on exactly how much new driving is induced when new lane-miles are built. But they all hover at around a 1-to-1 ratio: a 1% increase in lane-miles results in a 1% increase in driving. But some studies show a worse ratio. The more lane miles, the worse that traffic gets.

Double ugh.

So sorry asphalt contractors, we can’t pave our way out of this conundrum.

Here’s Edmondson again.

“Why this occurs is relatively straightforward. Traffic demand is based on the immediate cost of driving: gas plus travel time. Reduce the time it takes to drive somewhere, and that trip becomes cheaper. People drive more because it now costs less. But as more people choose to drive more miles, the cost of driving settles back to where it was originally. Congestion is where the road system hits equilibrium, its happy place. Congestion always wins.”

Double ugh.

“Congestion always wins” is a terrible slogan. I do not recommend that future candidates use it.

But yet we keep adding lanes despite 62 years of research that says it doesn’t work.

Why?
Because some people believe widening does relieve congestion and others believe that if you add bike lanes and transit improvements alongside the widened roads, congestion will improve.

This indicates that politicians and engineers are still debating science, or they don’t trust the studies.

One researcher who has studied the issue said this in a New York Times story in 2023.

“If you keep adding lanes because you want to reduce traffic congestion, you have to be really determined not to learn from history.”

Makes sense.

But does that mean there are no answers?

Before we trot out the usual solutions: mixed use development that enables people to avoid trips, investments in mass transit, congestion tolling etc., let’s acknowledge that not everyone considers congestion a problem. Some urban thinkers consider congestion a good thing.

Blasphemy!

Ok, wait a second, let’s unpack what these heretics are saying before we condemn them.

Charles Marohn is the influential founder of the Strong Towns movement. We once hosted him in Delray Beach where he gave an interesting talk on his views before a packed crowd at Northern Trust on Atlantic Avenue.

He never calls congestion a problem.

“It is clearly not,” writes Marohn.  “Within our places — on our streets — congestion is an indicator of success. As Yogi Berra reportedly said: “Nobody goes there anymore because it is too busy.” Indeed. The most successful places are full of congestion. On the roads we build to travel between places, congestion signals many things but, for me anyway, it primarily indicates America’s cultural — and the engineering profession’s technical — misunderstanding of the systems we have built.”

Ok, Chuck Marohn, you have our attention.

Mr. Marohn believes we have created a system of roads destined to fail us. His answer: “the only way to deal with it and still have a successful economy is to address it at the source. We need to absorb those trips locally before they become a flood. Instead of building lanes, we need to build corner stores. We need local economic ecosystems that create jobs, opportunities and destinations for people as an alternative to those they can only get to by driving.

For nearly seven decades, our national transportation obsession has been about maximizing the amount that you can drive. Today, we need to focus on minimizing the amount you are forced to drive. If we develop a system that responds to congestion by creating local options, we will not only waste less money on transportation projects that accomplish little, but we will be strengthening the finances of our cities. We can spend way less and get way more in return. That’s the essence of a Strong Towns approach.”

In other words, Marohn’s solution is to turn soulless roads into streets, so instead of building speedways we build places that include a mix of uses.

In other words, do what Delray did to U.S. 1.

Here’s more Strong Towns thinking from Mr. Marohn.

“When I suggest that we convert our STROADS back into streets — changing unproductive transportation corridors into platforms for growth and investment — the pushback I get is that congestion will become unbearable. If we narrow those lanes, bring back the on-street parking, take out the turn lanes, remove the traffic signals, slow the automobile speeds and welcome a more complex urban environment, somehow we wouldn’t all be able to rapidly get to where we want to go.

To this I say: AMEN!

We have spent untold amounts of wealth reducing the time spent in the first and last mile of each auto trip. The result: a nation of fragile and unproductive places, an economy subsisting on financial meth and other desperation moves along with a built environment that forces (let me emphasize that to reinforce the notion that having only one option in a marketplace is quite un-American) FORCES nearly all of us to drive everywhere we need to go.

If we began to unwind this system, converting those nasty STROAD corridors into wealth producing streets, we would have congestion, of course, but in this case, congestion would simply be another word for opportunity. And not the type of opportunity that benefits the global corporation that can purchase toilet paper for 0.005 cents over cost, ship it around the world on subsidized transportation systems using subsidized energy all while protected by the U.S. military. I’m talking about opportunity for real people in real neighborhoods.

Need a gallon of milk? In an America of Strong Towns, you can get in your car and drive or — if the cost in terms of your time or quality of experience is worth more to you than you would choose to give up in dollar wealth — you can walk down the street to the corner grocer. Today that is considered quaint, but stop wasting enormous sums of money fighting congestion and now that becomes a real choice. Am I going to sit in my car for half an hour on clogged streets to save two dimes on milk or will I just walk up the block?”

Intriguing.

Of course, none of this happens overnight. Or without significant political will that pushes back against NIMBYism and old ideas.

P.S. Some of this thinking can be employed to battle the lack of housing.

Want to keep your big box?

How about letting people live next door to the box? Or how about converting all those one-story post offices to mixed use by allowing people to live above that use?

Regardless, we need to change our approach to congestion and begin to embrace some new ideas.

Meanwhile, be careful out there. And please don’t walk on red.

Have a wonderful New Year and thanks for reading.

Putting the Civil in Service

Admiral Stavridis.

Recently , a friend and I went to the Forum Club in West Palm Beach to see a speech by Admiral James Stravidis, the former Supreme Allied Commander of NATO.

It’s cool to be able to see a global figure in your own backyard. The Forum Club of the Palm Beaches provides these opportunities regularly. It’s special and I’ve resolved to take advantage and learn.

Admiral Stravidis has had a remarkable career. After his celebrated service in the Navy, he ran the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University and now serves as vice chair of the celebrated Carlyle Group, a major player in private equity.

He’s an impressive man. A serious man who has spent a career wrestling with some of the world’s most vexing problems: war, terrorism, national security and competition from China and Russia.

We enjoyed hearing his perspectives on NATO, Ukraine, Taiwan and our own military capabilities. Stravidis recently published a historical fiction book in which he tells the story of great admirals—Halsey, Nimitz–and how they defeated the Japanese in the Pacific, keeping the world safe from fascism. It was inspiring to hear the stories, especially from someone who has seen combat during his own era.

I came away with two thoughts after hearing the Admiral’s presentation.

First, we need people of this caliber running for national office. Serious people, experienced people, those who have seen the world as it is and therefore can steer a safe and productive course for the United States.

Every question posed to Admiral Stravidis was handled with depth, clear thinking and a solid rationale. It was impressive.

Second, he said something that has stuck with me because it’s true and it’s lacking today.

As a retired Naval officer, Admiral Stravidis is often thanked for his service. He said men and women in uniform appreciate the words “thank you for your service” but he urged us to expand our gratitude to others who serve us.

Teachers, police officers, firefighters, nurses and those who work for local, state and the federal government are among those who deserve our thanks. He included volunteers and those who serve in public office in his list of those who would benefit from those five words: thank you for your service.

It won’t cost us anything, but it will yield us benefits that cannot be calculated.

We have become a cynical and snarky bunch. And if I am honest, I can be that way too.

Truth is there are some people who don’t deserve our thanks, they deserve a trip to the woodshed but there are far more people who quietly serve us well. They should be thanked and respected.

Often, they are disparaged, disrespected and disregarded. Doing so is ruinous.

We can do better. We must.

Thank you for listening and have a Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukkah.

A Lifetime of Achievement

Yvonne Odom: A living legend

I’m fascinated by long term contributors.

I’m talking about the people in our civic universe who put their noses to the grindstone and work over long periods of time on the things that matter.

We often take these people for granted and seldom stop to recognize their achievements and impact.

We live in a fast-paced, complex and disposable world. We accumulate and then we discard. We are busy, but often not intentional.

Life can be overwhelming, especially this time of year.

So, when I saw that my friend Yvonne Odom was given a “Lifetime Achievement” award from Omega Psi Phi, I was thrilled. Mrs. Odom deserves recognition. She’s a remarkable person.

Omega Psi Phi Fraternity is the first international fraternal organization founded on the campus of a historically black college. That founding happened in November 1911 on the campus of Howard University in Washington D.C.

The motto of the organization is “friendship is essential to the soul.” And indeed, it is.

The words scholarship, perseverance and uplift are used to outline Omega Psi’s principles and when I think of Mrs. Odom those are the words that come to mind.

For those who don’t know, Yvonne Odom integrated Seacrest High School in 1961, becoming the first African American to attend the school that would become Atlantic High.

Mrs. Odom was chosen because of her strength, grit and resilience; traits that she exhibited as a teen and throughout her storied life. She was 15 and the only Black student at the time.

But while she made civil rights and educational history that day in ’61, she was just getting started.

Mrs. Odom became a teacher in 1967 and worked in Palm Beach County for 45 years touching countless lives. But when she retired from the classroom, she never stopped teaching others.

We became acquainted when I worked for the local newspaper and stayed in contact through my tenure as an elected official and beyond. If you were a smart local official, you listened when Mrs. Odom spoke. Her lessons are always tinged with insight and historical perspective.

Too often, public officials lose sight that they are public servants, there to serve the public. The best ones realize they have lots to learn from people like Mrs. Odom.

She’s always been generous with her time and opinions, and I think she would have made a fine elected official herself. A few years back, she tried to fill an interim position, but thanks to political dysfunction the commission deadlocked on how to fill an open seat, and we lost out on that opportunity. It was our loss.

But Ms. Odom just kept doing what she does. Speaking out, leading and supporting those making a difference in our community.

A lifetime achievement award honors just that— a lifetime of achievement. It is not a one-off accomplishment and it’s here that Mrs. Odom shines. She remains involved. She speaks out, she mentors, she advises, she’s engaged.

It’s the long-term contributors who move the needle in communities big and small. They don’t do it for recognition, but it sure is nice when their body of work is honored.

The communities that say thank you, the communities that “see” people, the communities that honor and respect those who give their time to others are the ones that succeed. They are the communities that are built to last.

A Milestone birthday…

Speaking of long term contributors.

We attended a birthday celebration for a close friend last week at the wonderful La Cigale restaurant.

Jim Chard is a long-term contributor. He’s got energy to burn and is involved in a raft of good causes: reef health, education,  entrepreneurship and making sure our tree canopy is growing and healthy. There’s more. He’s a true community servant.  I admire him.

These are the people who make good things happen. Leadership is synonymous with caring and Jim cares. Those who know him look forward to what’s next on his agenda. And there’s always something next.

Passings…

Vald Svekis, the entrepreneur behind the iconic Liberties Fine Books & Music, passed away recently. He was 83.

Mr. Svekis opened Liberties in Mizner Park in 1991, and the bookstore became a big draw for several years. He sold the business in 1994.

During its run Liberties became famous for hosting famous authors including former President Jimmy Carter, former VP Dan Quayle, famed rock photographer Lynn Goldsmith and Dr. Brian Weiss, best selling author of “Many Lives, Many Masters.”

Liberties became known as one of the country’s premier independent bookstores.

According to his obituary, “Svekis’s brilliantly zany marketing ideas brought renown. Dan Quayle’s appearance was promoted with campaign signs sprinkled around town; Gloria Steinem was greeted by a window display celebrating suffragettes and featuring her as the statue of Liberty; Madonna’s “Sex” could only be viewed in a “peep booth” for $1 a minute with all money going to AIDs Research. Liberties was sold in 1994, allowing Vald and Sherry (his wife) to retire to Sarasota.”

For those of us who love books, Liberties was a magnet. The store is still missed by those who experienced its magic.

 

The Water Cooler Is Gone

AWOL

There’s no water cooler anymore.

Other than maybe the Super Bowl (and a couple of other sports events), there’s very little that knits us together these days.

I’m reminded of this often.

A few weeks back, we went to see The Avett Brothers at Hard Rock Live, a wonderful venue attached to a smoke-filled casino in Hollywood.

The venue looked sold out, a testament to the musical excellence of The Avett Brothers and truth be told the show was as good as any we’d ever seen. And at this point in my concert going life, we’ve seen them all. Or most of them anyway.

But when I shared my experience, I was greeted with a series of blank stares.  Very few people knew the Avetts, despite their long and critically acclaimed career, despite a canon of music as good as any you can find, and despite a show that would make any rock/country/Americana fan proud.

There’s no common jukebox anymore.

Some of you may know that I’ve been studying playwriting recently. I’ve been listening to a  podcast hosted by Lauren Gunderson. It’s been a huge help. Ms. Gunderson may be America’s most produced living playwright.

But when I mention her name, I get blank stares.

There’s no Neil Simon anymore.

When I turn on the TV, there are hundreds of stations; not the handful there were back in the 70s.

When I turn to Netflix, I’m greeted by thousands of selections. In many ways, it’s a bounty. A wonderful, diverse bounty. And yet, so much gets lost. So much goes undiscovered.

Like the documentary “Print it Black” which is the story of the local newspaper in Uvalde, Texas in the wake of the terrible 2022 shooting at Robb Elementary School.

The documentary on Hulu is astonishingly good.  But I wonder how many will see it.

If I didn’t happen to glimpse a mention of the doc in a book review, I would have missed it.

The documentary talks about “news deserts,” noting that half of the counties in our country don’t have a newspaper. There’s nobody there to chronicle graduations, Little League games, high school sports, weddings, deaths and the decisions of City Councils.

Local news is dying.

And that’s a shame because as they say in the documentary, how does a community function without somebody holding a mirror up to it? Who will write the first draft of history? Who will hold the government accountable? Who celebrates success?

There’s no water cooler anymore.

I’m an ardent Spotify listener. The streaming service is where I discover artists and podcasts. I’m a captive of the algorithm– that’s both good and bad.

Anyway, some time back, Spotify fed me an artist named Rob Jones & The Restless Dream. He’s great.

Rob was a high school English teacher in Manchester, England who felt stuck. He had a dream, an obsession really to write great songs. So, he’s going for it. He’s living his dream.

Rob is a major talent struggling to “break out.”

Because I love his music, I reached out to him, and we correspond now. Now, by all rights, Rob should be too big to go back and forth with little old me. But because we live in a noisy world where the path to success is muddled, he has time to answer my questions about his music. He’s even solicited recommendations on what he should be listening to. I recently told him about The Avett Brothers. He’s digging them.

In a just world, The Avett Brothers and Rob Jones would be known and loved by all who value well-crafted songs, Lauren Gunderson’s plays would be taught in English classes coast to coast, and every town would have a news outlet as good as the Uvalde Leader-News.

Oh my friends, the Uvalde Leader-News will break your heart.

The paper is led by a publisher who is deeply connected to his work and his community. He’s a dream boss who worries about his staff, especially a young reporter whose daughter is murdered at Robb Elementary.

In the documentary, we meet the staff of the paper. They are devoted to covering the news fairly and accurately. We watch with aching hearts as they step up during a tragic time, putting their personal feelings aside to serve a city they love. They are there to support their newsroom colleague who is devastated by the loss of her little girl. Lexi Rubio was 10 years old when she was murdered in her classroom. Think about that sentence. In what world can this be possible? And yet it happens over and over and over again.

But Uvalde has a water cooler…it’s leaking but it’s there.

Thankfully.  Because it helps. Maybe not a lot, but in ways that matter.

The documentary title, “Print it Black” refers to the black front page the paper published, a day after the shooting. It was a decision by the staff which reflected their feelings in the rawness of the moment.

When things go well, we don’t notice the things that make our communities hum.

The things that bind us.

Whether it’s an underrated band whose music touches us, an obscure but important documentary or a playwright who should be a household name, commonality matters. Familiarity binds us together. The opposite puts us into tribes.

Truth be told, Uvalde is a complicated story. The school shooting divided the community. Hard to believe but true.

And its water cooler is running dry. The Leader-News—which has been publishing since the 1870s– is on the ropes. Like most print newspapers the business model is broken. It’s now publishing only once a week.

If it dies, a lot will die with it.

Another point of connection will be lost. A lot of history won’t be written or remembered and that matters. It matters a lot.

I urge you to watch this documentary somehow, someway.

Listen to the Avett Brothers too and if you can, catch a Gunderson play. Oh, and don’t miss Rob Jones & The Restless Dream.

I’m not sure how this all ties together. But somehow it feels like it does. Somehow it feels like we need to get to know each other again. This piece is a meditation on connection – how we find it, lose it, and why it matters.

Thanks for reading.