10 April, 2023 10 10 Comments

Reggie, Fonzie & The Me Decade

April 10, 2023 By 10 Comments

Bell bottom blues….

I love the 70s.There, I said it.I know it’s not cool.  I know the 70s had its cheesy moments. And I realize that the term “jumping the shark” was coined when 70s icon Fonzie literally jumped a shark while on water skis; that was cringeworthy even by 70s standards of cringe.

Still, if you look past the AMC Pacer (which came in refrigerator blue), Fonzie’s lapse and the Bay City Rollers you’ll find much to love about the 70s.But before we list the decades merits, isn’t it weird that decades don’t have identifies anymore?If I ask you to think about the 50s,60s and 80s you’ll get images in your mind. Elvis, Marilyn, James Dean and ducktail haircuts. The Beatles, JFK and MLK. Duran Duran, MTV and Michael J. Fox riding that DeLorean Back to the Future.

But who thinks of the “aughts” or even refers to the current decade as the 20s?It’s not as if we live in boring times…it’s just that we’re lacking in personality. Or maybe we are just too old to suss out the trends.I’m writing this while eating a hotdog at a Five Guys on Linton Boulevard.Layla by Derek and the Dominoes is blaring from the speakers and I’m loving it. My friend Scott and I saw Eric Clapton back in the 80s in Miami. That was 35 years ago and the guitar master was already an “oldies” act. Time flies when you are having fun.

Anyway, Layla was released in March 1971 and the group of 20 somethings sitting near me probably have no clue what the song is about. I’m just amazed that “society” is still playing music from 50 years ago. I don’t remember being a kid in the 70s and hearing music from the 1920s in restaurants or on the radio.But 70s music is being played because the boomers are still around. And because the music was great.I’m not referring to “Disco Duck” or Air Supply, but the Allman Brothers, The Eagles, Elton, Queen, The Who and so many more.The music of the 70s was sublime and yes that includes disco.Movies were also amazing.

The Godfather, Rocky, Network, Chinatown, Patton, the French Connection. The list goes on and on.We had Nicholson, Hackman, Redford and Newman. I’m sorry but Mamoa, Diesel and the Marvel flavor of the month just don’t quite measure up.When we ate our TV dinners we watched the Mary Tyler Moore Show, All in the Family and Sanford & Son. The latter was a favorite. My dad’s name is Sanford, so I could relate. My dad’s friends called him Sandy and nobody called me Lamont but I thought it was cool nonetheless.Today, we have reality shows. (But streaming is terrific, I’ll concede that point).The 70s had Watergate and inflation, Vietnam and other assorted horrors but we sure felt more united as a nation even when we were divided; does that make sense?So you may wonder why write about the 70s? What spurred this tribute to that memorable decade?In a word, Reggie.As in Reggie Jackson. Mr. October.Amazon Prime has a great new documentary on the baseball Hall of Famer. It’s wonderful and brings back a cascade of memories. Baseball in the 70s was the best; the uniforms, the handlebar mustaches, the Big Red Machine, Charlie Finley’s A’s, Hammerin’ Hank and don’t forget Delray’s own Bucky Dent and the shot over the wall at Fenway that inspired the replica “Green Monster” at Miller Field in Delray Beach. (There’s your local tie-in).Yes, the 70s were groovy.So hold onto those bell bottoms, keep your vinyl and dust off those ponchos you never know when they’ll be back in style.Note: The world lost a great man over the weekend with the death of Benjamin Ferencz at 103. Mr. Ferencz was the last surviving Nuremberg prosecutor and he spent the rest of his life detailing his experiences holding the Nazi’s accountable and making sure we “never forget.”Mr. Ferencz lived for many years in Delray Beach and I had a chance to interview him when I was a reporter. What an honor. I saw him last at a Holocaust museum fundraiser in Boca Raton. He was the special guest that evening at Boca West and you could hear a pin drop when he spoke.  He fought for those whose lives were ended by evil. He was very special.

 

 

3 April, 2023 4 4 Comments

The Oath…

April 3, 2023 By 4 Comments

The biggest crowd in memory turned out to see Rob Long and Angela Burns sworn in.

“Leadership is not about being in charge. Leadership is about taking care of those in your charge.” Simon Sinek

Delray Beach starts the week with two new commissioners: Angela Burns and Rob Long.

I wish them well.

After a bruising campaign season, Angela and Rob were sworn in last Thursday for three-year terms.

The crowd that turned out to see them was jubilant. There’s excitement in the air, there’s a chance to turn the page and be a better Delray.

Yes, the swearing in was a very special moment for this community. Hope has made a comeback.

Now the work begins.

We had a saying back in the day: first you’re sworn in, then you’re sworn at.

But all kidding aside, serving your community is an honor and a privilege.

I’ve long believed that local government is where we can really make a difference. It’s a big enough job to be fascinating—especially in a city like Delray—and easy to make an impact if you’re focused. After all, if you have a suggestion on a Tuesday night and two of your colleagues agree, change can start happening Wednesday morning.

That’s the beauty and promise of local government.

Make no mistake, serving in elected office is no walk in the park. It’s an awful lot of work if you do the job right. Commissioners can look forward to a lot of reading, a lot of meetings, and of lot of nights and weekends away from family. It’s all worth it.

In a dynamic city such as Delray, you are tasked with being visible, accessible, and responsive. Again, it’s worth it.

You have to become familiar with urban planning principles, economic development, labor issues (the city has three active unions), pensions, capital improvement budgets, municipal finance, how CRA’s operate and function and a whole host of other stuff ranging from coastal conservation and water issues to issues concerning the business community, local schools, neighboring governments, public safety, race relations, civic engagement and more, much more.

It’s challenging but wonderful. It can be stressful but immensely fulfilling.

Governing is the fun part (most of the time), but politics are hardly ever fun and in this town the politics have become increasingly toxic.

While there are ideological differences between factions in Delray, the most worrisome differences are personal.

If the differences were only ideological, there would be hope for compromise. There’s a chance that two parties can sit down and work something out.

But when personality conflicts erupt, it gets ugly. Each side begins to look at the other as an existential threat. That’s what happened nationally and that’s what we may be up against in local politics.

I wish I had answers, but all I have are theories as to how to make the public square safer and better at delivering results for communities.

It does start with leadership and I believe a specific type of leadership; i.e. servant leadership.

Servant leadership is all about making the goals clear and then rolling your sleeves up and doing whatever it takes to help people win. Leaders have to remember that  they work for us, we don’t work for them.

We, as citizens, do have a responsibility to engage, be informed, remain civil and vote. Too many of us don’t practice the fundamental building blocks of Democracy.

Over the past few months, I’ve gotten to know Rob Long and Angela Burns better. I think they both held up extremely well under fire, I see them as kind people who are committed to Delray Beach. Both care about education, housing, jobs,  government transparency and the culture at City Hall.

I think they have a chance to do good things. And this community hungers for good things and positivity.

I hope and trust that they will remain visible, accessible, and responsive to all citizens. As I mentioned in an earlier post, in his victory speech last month, Rob emphasized that he was there to serve everyone not just those who voted for him. I like that.

Why?

Because this city needs healing.

We also have challenges to face and opportunities to seize.

Good leaders roll up their sleeves and help people win.

If you want to make a complex job simple; that’s the formula.

Finally, one piece of unsolicited advice. The best part of being a servant leader is the opportunity you are given to connect to others. Take the time to build relationships. Take the time to work shoulder to shoulder with the people you serve. Help them succeed and then recognize those achievements. That’s how you build community; that’s how you build and sustain civic pride.

Wishing Angela and Rob and the rest of our commission the very best.

 

 

27 March, 2023 8 8 Comments

Endings & Beginnings

March 27, 2023 By 8 Comments

“The road is long and seeming without end

The days go on, I remember you my friend

And though you’re gone

And my heart’s been emptied it seems

I’ll see you in my dreams” – Bruce Springsteen.

It’s been a rough patch of time.

In the past month or so, I’ve lost five friends, learned that another has a terminal illness and watched yet another dodge a health scare.

Welcome to middle age. Sometimes it feels like a mine field. I step out my door and try and dodge the bad news.

An older friend of mine used to describe aging as “a massacre.”

I know some of you visit this blog for a weekly dose of inspiration and I try to deliver.

But I also hope you expect a dose of honesty and if I am going to be truthful, I have to share the sad stories too. And the truth is life is beautiful, sad, wonderful, and painful—all at once.

When we’re young, endings are a remote concept. You know things don’t last forever, but there are far more hello’s than goodbyes when we’re young.

But by the time we hit middle age, we slam into a wall. I think they call it reality. And reality— as they say—bites.

I lost a business colleague last week and it hurts. This gentleman visited us from New Jersey frequently and told lots of great stories. He dreamed of the future and urged us to do big things. He called me “kid” or “kiddo” and I liked it because the nickname was affectionate and because well, I’m not a kid anymore so it was good to hear.

My friend talked about getting a place in Delray “someday” but someday never happened. He endured one last Jersey winter and now this man and all his stories are gone just when the leaves on the barren trees grow green again.

A few weeks ago, I told you about losing my friend Beth Johnston, a community servant beyond compare and last week I wrote a little about the lovely artist Susan Romaine and the charming and accomplished Jim Sclafani and a few weeks before that about Skip Brown, a retired Delray police officer who won a Bronze Star for his service in Vietnam. As I write this, I just learned that we lost Carl Wesley, a legendary local educator and beloved bandleader who touched countless lives in this community.

These special people added so much to this place we call home. It’s the special people that make us a village; that make us more than a Zip Code or a dot on the map.

For me, that’s what Delray has always been about.

When I drive the streets of this place I’ve called home for 36 years, so many corners, so many buildings conjure up memories of special people. When you live in a place long enough, these intersections are both literal and figurative.

When I come to work, I pass by St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, and I think of my friend Father Chip Stokes.

I’m not an Episcopalian, but I spent some time in that church when Chip was there because we connected on a human level, and we were passionate about the same issues. Chip’s church sat on the dividing line of Swinton Avenue—a line that kept Black and white apart for so long. I wanted to break down the barriers that divided us—I wanted to smash the prejudices that hurt so many for so long and so did Chip. I saw him as a champion who opened the doors to his church and I wanted to know this man, because I saw his heart.

Chip Stokes is a talented man, and those talents were recognized by his church. When a team came to town interviewing parishioners and community leaders about Chip because he was under consideration to become a Bishop in New Jersey, I found myself choking up describing his role in our community. My reaction surprised me, and I apologized. But describing his heart and the important role he played as a sounding board for so many moved me to my core.

When I drive A1A, I pass Caffe Luna Rosa and Boston’s on the Beach.  I think of the proprietors and founders, Fran Marincola and Perry Don Francisco. Both are long gone from the day-to-day bustle of those landmark restaurants, but they left a lasting mark and continue to impact lives. Special men; like characters out of a wonderful movie. I treasure these guys.

When I drive a few blocks north to George Bush Boulevard, I think of once seeing presidential candidate Michael Dukakis jogging on the street (think about the irony for a moment) and I remember when the Governor and his wife Kitty spent winters in Delray teaching at FAU and working for the Wayside House respectively. I made it a point to meet the Governor and we spent a few days riding with our police officers because he was fascinated by our city’s efforts to embrace community oriented policing, a philosophy of law enforcement that was truly special.

Before I reach U.S. 1, I glance over at St. Vincent Ferrer School ,and I think about Sister Mary Clare. She was so special, so loving, so much fun. She retired and took that marvelous brogue back to Ireland. I miss her.

On my way home, I pass by the Achievement Center and think of my good friend Nancy Hurd, who started her life’s mission over 50 years ago in a church basement. That mission changed countless lives over the decades. She’s retired too, but I see her name adorning the campus every time I head east toward downtown, and I think of Nancy. What an amazing legacy she created.

Loss, illness, and time makes me nostalgic—and appreciative too.

I hope these examples inspire you to be grateful too. I hope they inspire you to continue to contribute.

Middle age…. what an interesting time of life. Yes, there is loss and yes there are times when my head thinks I’m 25 and then I look in the mirror and wonder who is  this old guy  staring back at me?

But it’s not all doom and gloom. There’s hope and life left. Hopefully, lots of life left. Let me share an example.

I have this friend.

He reads this blog every Monday. He wants me to record it, so he can listen instead of read, but I don’t have the technical chops. But if he reads this far, I have a surprise for him.

My friend’s name is Randy Smith, and he has this great company called Heritage Flooring. The company has been wildly successful and has enabled Randy and others to live great lives.

Randy sails.

Randy skis.

Randy goes to great restaurants and visits exotic locales. And I love that he shares it all with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning.

About a year or so ago, Randy took up the guitar. And you know what?  He rocks.

He sends his buddies videos, and he can sing, and he can play and he’s having a great time doing both. He’s also my age, 58, and I just admire that he’s attacking life with joy, spirit, and resilience. Like others, he has worked hard for his success and overcome all sorts of adversity. But his gusto, his zest for life and personal growth inspires all of us in his orbit.

He’s become an expert in business, politics, human health, investing and now music. And he motivates those of us who feel slammed by middle age to live in the moment. Last week, Randy’s world was hit by tragedy when a beloved colleague at Heritage died at the age of 39; proof that life is fragile, our time finite. We must live now. We must savor our days and create the moments that give us meaning.

I’ll conclude this indulgence—and thanks for taking the ride—with a shout out to a 73-year-old inspiration known as “The Boss.”

Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band are on the road and rocking arenas across America. We saw them in Tampa in February and I’m still riding high from the experience.

Anyway, Bruce’s most recent album “Letter to You” is remarkable. It’s about loss, life, love, friendship, death, and the hereafter. The songs pack a punch, and he plays a whale of a guitar. He’s also an inspiration. You may hate his music. You may hate his politics, but you can’t deny that into his 70s he can still play. And there’s something redeeming about someone putting it on the line every night in his 70s.

Recently, I had the privilege of appearing on a podcast called “That One Lyric” hosted by Ted Canova, who happens to have a brother who lives in Delray. Here’s a link to the show and a conversation about a song that has gotten me through some dark days. Maybe it will help you too.

https://www.thatonelyric.com/episodes/ready-to-grow-young-again

 

Well, now young faces grow sad and old

And hearts of fire grow cold

We swore blood brothers against the wind

I’m ready to grow young again—Bruce Springsteen, No Surrender.

 

 

20 March, 2023 21 21 Comments

The Promise Of A New Day

March 20, 2023 By 21 Comments

Commissioner-elect Angela Burns.

Commissioner-elect Rob Long.

“It’s a new day in Delray Beach and it feels good.”

“When the people unite, love prevails.”

“Excited to see the story of repair, restoration and reconciliation unfold in Delray Beach.”

“A true testament that the ‘power of the people’ is stronger than the ‘people in power’.”

“Praying for leadership that communicates, engages the public and works together with the community and businesses as a team again.”

“Delray has spoken. Let the collaboration and community involvement begin!”

I’m writing this the day after perhaps the most intense election in recent Delray Beach history and I am enjoying letting my eyes take a stroll through Facebook.

The above is just a sampling of the good feeling in town. Over the past several days as I’ve gone about my day, I’ve been running into people who are over the moon excited by last week’s election results. The birds are chirping, a cool breeze is blowing, hope has been restored!

That’s not something I could have said for many years. Delray has been put through the ringer.

Needlessly, I might add.

But today, the sun is shining and there is hope that we can get back to community building, which we once excelled at like no other town. Let me repeat that; like no other town.

It is time to heal.

I spent election night at Harvest restaurant watching the people that worked together to build Delray rejoice. They backed Rob Long and Angela Burns, and their favored candidates won and there were smiles all around. Check that: there were tears too.

The people in that room, police officers, firefighters, teachers, volunteers, retirees, and young professionals want a city that listens to them, involves them, and respects their opinions.

They don’t want to be labeled, they don’t want to fight, they want to make a life here and all of them want to give back.

Why?
Because they love this town.

I got a text this morning from a friend who felt for years that he could not be seen with certain people because it would hurt his business. Today, he feels relieved. He no longer worries about retribution.

But while I was gratified to see my heroes and heroines smile again as the results poured in—I was waiting to see what Commissioner-elect Long would say in his victory speech.

He delivered.

Rob thanked the people in the room. He gave them credit for their hard work and contributions, and he showed respect and humility—that’s what servant leaders do.

Then he said that he wanted to serve all the people in Delray, even those who did not vote for him.

I like that. That was the magic moment.

We need more of that. A lot more.

He called for a return to civility and collaboration. He called for involvement and input.

These are not innovative notions; this is common sense.

Our partisan politics have divided us and threatened the existence of our nation. We don’t need that brand of politics in our hometown.

There is another way.

If  I’ve learned anything in my years observing government and business, it is that kindness is essential to leadership.

Along with integrity, intelligence, a willingness to learn and a passion for service, kindness is indispensable.

Being nice does not mean that you are a pushover. But it does mean that when presented with a problem or a difference of opinion, you try and find a solution that doesn’t destroy, divide, or degrade.

But unkind people do just that.

Unfortunately, power attracts bullies. And bullies often get far on their bravado (which usually is a mask for insecurity).

In other words, they can get the job—but they can’t last. And they can’t do the job well either.

Why?

Because they divide, degrade, and destroy, and that becomes their legacy.

We have seen bullies take a sledgehammer to nations, states, and cities.

They seek to vanquish opponents, demand total fealty and end up losing because bullying gets old. People get fed up and move on. But before we make a course correction, a lot of damage happens. And that’s a shame.

The last few years have been exhausting and expensive.

We have lost our cultural arts center (and it’s going to cost us millions to get it back), told a generation of civic leaders that they are useless and took a matchstick to philanthropy.

We have watched precious assets such as our historic golf course go to seed, seen talented civil servants bullied into submission and we have refused to engage citizens—when engagement turned this town around.

It’s not wise when a town turns its back on what made it successful.

As a result, we have become a case study in how to climb a mountain and then give it back.

We have told a generation who gave of themselves that they are good ole boys who made a mess.

We have labeled, threatened, and harassed people who should be respected.

It’s not right. And it’s ruinous.

We kept pulling threads out of our civic fabric. Well, keep pulling and the garment eventually falls apart.

Some things…let’s just say once they break, they can’t be fixed.

We have beat this town and its best citizens to a pulp. But they are not going away.

Last week, many of them fought back. They fought for their community.

And they won.

They worked hard…knocked on doors, called and emailed their neighbors and made a persuasive argument that we need change.

And they were rewarded.

But now the hard work begins. We have to heal some wounds, we have to reach out to all stakeholders, and we have to address serious issues: infrastructure, housing affordability, schools, water quality, sea level rise and how to work together again.

There is also a whole lot of misinformation surrounding development in Delray. We addressed it 20 plus years ago with the Downtown Master Plan, which was an inclusive and educational experience.  We went to school together as a community and learned a lot. We need that kind of effort again—but this time it needs to address citywide concerns about traffic, uses and design.

There’s a lot to do.

But the people have spoken.

They voted for collaboration and involvement.

Our leaders need to lead. The people are ready. Time to get to work.

 

Bite Size election thoughts:

  • I’ve never seen such an all hands-on deck effort to elect candidates since the 1990 race that saw Tom Lynch elected mayor and Jay Alperin and Dave Randolph elected to the commission. There was a similar dynamic back in 1989-90 with a strong desire to change direction and change the tone of politics in Delray.
  • Old School Square was an animating issue that galvanized voters. According to polling I saw, nearly three quarters of likely voters were against the decision to terminate the lease with OSS and didn’t like how it was done, i.e. without public notice, public input or a plan.
  • Friends of Delray is a group to watch. They have produced many fascinating video podcasts available on Youtube, lots of interesting articles etc. This is a volunteer effort done by people who care. I hope you check them out and I hope they stay around.
  • The Palm Beach Post and the Sun-Sentinel endorsements didn’t change the race. Sadly, few people are reading newspapers these days. Even sadder, why do newspapers that don’t cover the community endorse at all? It was clear from reading the endorsements that those papers have no clue about what’s going on in Delray. Embarrassing. The Sun-Sentinel’s endorsement was especially tone deaf. Apparently, editorial writers for the Post and Sun-Sentinel don’t read Randy Schultz’s CityWatch blog.  https://www.bocamag.com/category/communitycity-watch/city-watch/

Mr. Schultz worked for decades at both papers.  During  my second bout with Covid, I spent four days archiving three plus years of his columns chronicling the adventures of the City Commission. It was an eye-opening and surreal experience. I stopped at 180 pages worth of controversy, fights, dropped balls etc. and sent them to the campaigns. It’s an endeavor I do not recommend.

  • Finally, voter turnout is ridiculously low. It’s not the sign of a healthy community. Our vote is our voice and too many people don’t exercise the right that so many have fought and are still fighting to protect. Countywide only 12.66 percent of registered voters cast a ballot. In that 1990 race referenced earlier, over 40 percent turned out to vote. That was a landmark figure, but if you think about it, even that turnout means that 6 of 10 voters stayed home. In this race, nearly 9 of 10 did. The issues that affect our lives, homes and businesses are decided by a microscopic subset of people.

Artist Susan Romaine was an ardent supporter of Old School Square.

Note:
We are saddened by the recent loss of Susan Romaine, a local artist who touched so many hearts through her spirit, kindness and immense talent.

Susan was dedicated to Old School Square and was a touchstone and inspiration for a slew of local artists.

She was represented by galleries in Delray Beach and Santa Fe and was an artist in residence at the Gibbes Museum in Charleston, S.C.

In her own beautiful words:

“Quite frequently as I paint an image, I begin to see multiple levels of symbolism that I hadn’t noticed in that first blush as I passed by. I learn something more about the space or people I have observed and get a far deeper sense of the human presence that occupied time and space with their surroundings. It is this studio-bound journey of discovery, those “ah ha” moments, that keeps that brush of mine moving across the canvas.”

She will be missed. She was a sweet soul.

 

13 March, 2023 13 13 Comments

The Lies That Grind

March 13, 2023 By 13 Comments

I’ve never been called a ‘good ole boy’.

Last week, I think I might have been.

I wasn’t singled out, and names have not been released, but I think I might be in this group called the ‘good ole boy network’.

For the purposes of this blog, I’m going to assume I’m in the network. I hope I am because I’d be in good company.

It seems there is a group in town who support the mayor and Commissioner Juli Casale. They are on a mission to clean up the “mess” the good ole boys made of this place and replace it with what?

Good government?

That would be nice. We haven’t seen that around these parts in quite some time.

The crew that opposes the good ole boys  have been all over Facebook vowing to clean up more messes if they continue to have the votes on our City Commission.  A friend of mine and his good ole boy friends were advised to “buckle up.”

Hmmm….

Anyway, this mission to clean up the “mess” some of the best citizens of this town created would explain why Old School Square was kicked to the curb without a plan at a cost of millions of dollars, why we may need to sell part of our golf course to pay for millions in deferred maintenance and why we’ve gone through more city managers in recent years than the fingers on both hands. It’s all the fault of the good ole boys!

Who knew!

We’ve  been warned that the anti good ole boys are the “nightmare” we all feared and it was mentioned that past leaders lacked the guts to do what needed to be done to fix our hometown.

Well, they are right on the nightmare assertion. Finally, a point of agreement! We agree that we are living through a nightmare.

But not for the same reasons—and therein lies the difference and the choice we face in the March 14 election.

There’s a lot to unpack here but let’s not leave the “good ole boy” comment quite yet.

I wanted to better understand the allegation, just in case I’m being lumped into that group, so I did a little research.

According to the New York Times, during the heyday of the Civil Rights movement, the Northern press began to refer to sheriffs, prison guards and anyone with either a bullhorn or a German shepherd as a good old boy.

Hmmm…I’m a Jewish guy from Long Island, I’ve never owned a bullhorn and I have a golden retriever and a chihuahua not a German shepherd, so maybe I don’t qualify.

My friends don’t meet that criterion either, besides many of the people I believe being referenced are—-wait for it—- women.

But I didn’t stop there. I didn’t want the New York Times to be the last word on this fascinating subject.

The Oxford dictionary defines good old boy as a “man who embodies some or all of the qualities considered characteristic of many white men of the southern US, including an unpretentious, convivial manner, conservative or intolerant attitudes, and a strong sense of fellowship with and loyalty to other members of his peer group.”

Well, this a mixed bag.

My peer group is a loyal bunch (we call it friendship) and unpretentious. But intolerant is a stretch; kind is a more apt description of the people I’m thinking about.

But here we are.

We live in a strange universe where many of our best citizens and most generous contributors are on the outs.

There is a real attempt to rewrite local history, recast heroines as villains and try and make the case that everything that came before this current group was wrong, corrupt and incompetent.

Not exactly.

Luckily, the truth is a stubborn thing. While lies get halfway around the world before the truth puts its pants on (to borrow from Mark Twain) the truth has a pesky way of shining through. In other words, truth endures.

Which means that every time the civic achievements of a generation of kind and giving people are denigrated, it diminishes those that do so.

In the past few weeks of this heated election season, I’ve seen some of our best mayors made fun of—with suggestions that a few should seek memory care. And I’ve seen a narrative that said redeveloping downtown Delray was easy and could have been accomplished by just about anyone.

I don’t think so.

It took an army of talented people. An army….who knew how to work together, knew how to engage the community and knew how to collaborate with each other.

As for the mayors, well, I don’t think dementia is something to joke about, besides I know those mayors and on their worst day they can run circles around these social media legends.

But I digress.

I do not think anyone is above criticism.

If you venture into the “arena” you can count on it. And truth be told, plenty of mistakes were made; that’s what life is. Hopefully, you fix them and don’t repeat them.

But I also don’t think it’s healthy or wise for a community to chew up and spit out those who gave their time, treasure, and passion to a place.

I almost felt bad about some of this nonsense, but then I remembered a scene from the movie Good Will Hunting and I felt better.

In this pivotal scene, Robin Williams, who plays a therapist named Sean, confronts Matt Damon who plays the genius Will. Will had criticized a painting in Sean’s office and by extension Sean’s life.

Here’s a snippet of the script. It’s terrific.

Sean: I thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting.

Will: Yeah?

Sean: Stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me…and I fell into a deep peaceful sleep and haven’t thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me?

Will: No.

Sean: You’re just a kid, you don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.

Will: Why thank you.

Sean: It’s all right. You’ve never been out of Boston.

Will: Nope.

Sean: So, if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life’s work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I’ll bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You’ve never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling.

The scene proceeds with a dissertation on war, women, and life itself. It’s a masterful piece of screenwriting but there’s a profound lesson baked into the scene as well. Sean has hard earned experience, while his critic, in this case Will, lobs missiles from the cheap seats, from a place of anger and insecurity. That’s where bullies live.

Life, business, leadership always seems easier from the outside looking in. But if you examine every success story you see the struggle. I have yet to encounter a single “overnight” success story. It takes grit, hard work, sacrifice and this is going to sound odd—a fair amount of failure to succeed.

Why failure?
Because you learn from your mistakes.

So, when you see and experience criticism, please consider the source. Is he or she credible? Have they been in the situations that they are opining about?

Have they run a non-profit arts organization?

Have they made decisions that impact their neighbors?

Have they taken a risk, failed, got up, wiped the blood from their nose and tried again?

Meanwhile, this is a partial list of who is on the outs in Delray Beach these days. If you see these good ole boys and girls give them a pat on the back. They’ve earned it.

A veteran public school teacher who won a “Woman of Grace” Award recognizing her lifetime of volunteering for good causes.

A founder of an arts organization widely credited with leading the renaissance of downtown Delray. She recently won a “Distinguished Achievement Award” given by the University of Florida in recognition of her work as a champion of historic preservation.

A local business owner who gives to just about every charity in town, raises money by organizing a banquet honoring police officers and founded two charitable organizations that give back to local non-profits.

A semi-retired real estate developer who has spent the past 20 years serving on non-profit and city boards while supporting local charities just because he loves this place and wants to see it thrive.

A local contractor who has devoted himself to all things Delray for over 25 years.

A dedicated community servant who is involved in education, the environment, historic preservation, economic development and making sure we have a tree canopy.

A small business owner and philanthropist who has been involved in everything from the arts and culture to making sure we have trained Santa’s at the tree during the holidays.

I can go on and on.

These people are not entitled, elitist or self-serving—they are interested, generous and passionate about our hometown.

Something is amiss when they’ve been sidelined, kicked to the curb, and ridiculed.

Good ole boys?

Well, they are good.

Some of them are old (but young in spirit). Besides there is absolutely nothing wrong with being old.

Lastly, none of them are boys. They are men and women who care.

Period.

And win or lose tomorrow they won’t be silenced. They won’t be bullied.

Vote accordingly.

 

6 March, 2023 12 12 Comments

The Name Is Bonds, G.O Bonds

March 6, 2023 By 12 Comments

We lost the amazing Beth Johnston last week. According to her Facebook page, Beth displayed this photo in her various offices over the years. From left, Chuck Halberg, former Banyan Creek Elementary School Principal Bill Fay Jr., Beth and me. Photo taken at a Principal for a Day event.

With 8 days to go before the March 14 municipal election, life in these parts becomes a fire hose of news, rumors, insults and allegations.

I thought I would touch on a few because there’s just not enough time to give the full treatment to the various subjects flying around Delray.

Let’s start with the general obligation bonds voters will be asked to approve or vote down. The total is a whopping $120 million, by the far the largest bond issue in the city’s history.

There are two questions on the ballot:

The first is whether to approve $100 million in new debt to “finance the cost of much-needed renovations and innovations to the existing police station (located at 300 W. Atlantic Avenue), Fire Station 111 (located at 501 W. Atlantic Avenue), and Ocean Rescue Headquarters (located at 340 South Ocean Boulevard), as well as fire stations 112, 114 and 115 located throughout the city”, according to the city’s website.

The number I’m hearing is $80 million of that money is for a new police station. So, I’m already a little confused since the city’s website says, “renovations to the existing station.”

The next question asks voters to borrow $20 million for parks improvements. The improvements leave a lot to the imagination. Which parks? What improvements? There are some specific improvements noted for Catherine Strong Park which would see restroom and lighting improvements, walking trails, covered basketball courts and improvements to the Splash Pad.

Will your taxes go up if these items are approved? Yes, according to the city’s website.

The estimated cost to a resident (with a $250,000 taxable assessed value) will be about $107 for the first year of the Public Safety GO Bond referendum. After the City retires its 2005 and 2013 bond debts, on February 1, 2024, the cost is estimated to go down to $90 annually per $250,000 of assessed value.

Of course, many of you have homes with a much higher assessed value, so I urge you to do the math to see what your bill may be. Tack on another $22 a year for the parks bond (if it passes) per $250,000 of assessed value.

The city is assuming a 4.25 percent interest rate. With interest rates and inflation volatile, I would imagine all bets are off.

From a philosophical standpoint, I believe it’s important to invest in your city.

I wrote about the importance of investment and the use of bond financing in my best-selling book “Adventures in Local Politics” which has now sold 14 copies on its slow (very slow) climb up the New York Times bestseller list.

But all kidding aside, I’m not supporting the $120 million in General Obligation Bonds that will be on the March 14 ballot in Delray Beach. A few former mayors that I’ve talked too are not supporting it either, so I’m not alone.

I can’t speak for them, but I’ll tell you why I feel the way I do.

Briefly, I don’t have faith that we can do all these huge projects successfully and I don’t have enough specifics on the projects themselves to vote yes. It’s an awful lot of money and we’ve been awfully dysfunctional.

Personally, I’d like to see better leadership steering the ship before handing over this kind of money. I’d like to see more stability and more public involvement and education too. There has been virtually no input or education on these bonds. Very few specifics either. The commission I served on, backed by a stable and very capable staff, had trouble with a $25 million parks bond because costs ballooned. And we were a collegial group with veterans at every position in city government. This is hard stuff to get right.

Still, the needs we have are very real. But they didn’t crop up overnight. I’ve always wondered why we didn’t go to the bond market when money was virtually free. I suspect it is because we’ve had rampant turnover and a whole lot of political infighting in recent years. It’s hard to focus when you have a revolving door of City Managers. We’ve lost an historic opportunity to tackle our needs with interest rates we may never see again.

Now interest rates are rising, and inflation is still very real and everything I’m reading indicates that the Fed is going to keep raising rates until inflation is tamed. Here’s a sobering data point: During its 110-year existence, The Federal Reserve has never been able to arrest inflation without raising its Fed Funds rate to a level that is higher than the inflation rate. We’re not there yet.

After spending years majoring in the minor, the City Commission has suddenly decided to take on a slew of major projects: the bonds, the water plant (that absolutely can’t wait), fixing the mess they created at Old School Square (which will cost us millions of dollars to finish renovations that a private donor had pledged to pay for) and last but not least, the long neglected golf course which was allowed to go to seed.

The commission is considering (no final decisions have been made) selling a portion of public land to a developer to finance needed the repairs at the golf course.

I’m all for moving the big rocks, but you need the right team in place. I’m hoping this election will begin to move us in the right direction, but fixing what’s broken here will take more than one cycle.

I hope we can get that stability and systematically go after the infrastructure fixes we need to make, which also include preparing for sea level rise, a very large cost that Delray and other coastal cities face.

As for the golf course, any objective observer of this “process” can see what ails us in real time.

Lack of input from citizens, meetings held at inconvenient times, meetings cancelled wasting the time and money of applicants, public anger at the lack of information and the list goes on.

I like public private partnerships, but struggle with selling public recreational space to private interests.

Regardless, politics is more than policy. It’s timing too.

This doesn’t feel like the right time in terms of leadership, the economy etc.

We need stability, an end to the divisiveness on the dais and for our elected leaders to begin reaching out and involving our residents at the beginning of the process not a mad scramble days before an election.

P.S. Isn’t it ironic that there is a mad scramble to address the public blowback on the golf course. Old School Square wasn’t given that courtesy despite over 11,000 petition signatures. Shameful. We can do better.

Vote accordingly.

 

Remembering two we lost…

Delray lost a wonderful man recently with the passing of Jim Sclafani.

Jim was a long-time resident living in Tropic Isles with his lovely wife Arlene. He was fun, charming and kind.

Jim gave back too.

He volunteered for the police department, serving on the marine patrol and his company, Multi Image Group, produced a lot of videos for the city to help promote Delray. He was a dedicated Rotarian, a gifted entrepreneur and the life of every party he attended.

We attended many over the years and always enjoyed laughs with Jim and Arlene. Such a special guy, such an amazing couple. They did so much for so many for so long…

Jim lived a wonderful life. May his memory be a blessing.

We also lost Beth Johnston last week which is devastating news for those of us who were lucky to cross paths with Beth over the years.

Beth was a neighbor, friend, community servant and leader.

She was kind and she was special.

She touched so many organizations and people over the years it’s hard to know where to begin.

My most enduring memories of her are from her days at the Delray Chamber where she was part of a team that created warmth and memories every day.

In a cynical world, that’s invaluable.

Beth also left her mark at FAU where she was kind enough to connect me to Tech Runway, which was just getting under way.

At the Boca chamber, she involved me in the Young Entrepreneurs Academy where I was able to see the next generation of business leaders learn and grow.

At the YMCA, Spirit of Giving, Lake Worth-Lantana Chamber and elsewhere she left her mark as a connector, friend and contributor.

People like Beth make communities go. She was a doer with boundless energy and optimism, and it was contagious.

As a neighbor, I got to know her as a devoted wife to her wonderful husband Tom and a great mom to Claire and Abbey.

She was so proud of her family. And they of her.

Beth was taken way too soon, but what a legacy she leaves.

And when I think of community, the idea, the concept, the feeling my heart goes to people like Beth and Jim Sclafani.

Their kindness, willingness to serve and their eagerness to give back is what makes a village.

I grew up being told that nobody was irreplaceable. That’s wrong.

Special people leave a hole. We move on, we remember, but they leave a hole. And as we get older, we are full of holes, as we lose the people who enrich us. All the more reason to be thankful for today.

 

20 February, 2023 6 6 Comments

Waste Deep In the Muck

February 20, 2023 By 6 Comments

There are two things you can count on in every local election cycle: personal attacks and complaints about development.

Like clockwork— every January-March—we hear accusations that one or more of the candidates are on “Team Developer”, in the “pocket of developers” and or “on the take.”

Follow the money, we are told.

Delray has been ruined; we are told.

Downtown is so busy nobody goes there anymore (Yogi Berra would love that one).

We hear that candidates are evil, weak, and not who they say they are.

And we wonder why citizens want nothing to do with local politics and why promising leaders treat public service like it’s a manchineel tree—a single bite of its fruit can be fatal and touching the bark, sap, or leaves gives you painful blisters.

“Let’s jump into the polluted pool,” said no one ever.

We can do better, but we don’t.

And the cycle continues.

These days, the attacks aren’t limited to the candidates, they are also leveled at supporters of the candidates as well, local business owners who dare to express an opinion and even their innocent clients who might find themselves in the middle of a blood feud they know nothing about.

That’s a new wrinkle and a bad one.

But trust me, the fear is real.

I went to a “kick-off” party for a commission candidate recently and noticed that when asked to sign in some people refused. They were fearful of being “outed”, worried that they would be punished if they were seen at the “wrong” place with the “wrong” people.

“I have a business,” said one secret supporter to a volunteer. “I just can’t take the risk.”

I don’t know about you, but I think we should aspire to live in a place where we can safely express our opinions without fear of retribution or fear that if we do so, our business or favorite local charity will be targeted by vengeful politicians.

I want to live in a place where if I need an approval for a project or a permit to fix my kitchen, I don’t have to worry about who I was seen dining with at City Oyster or whose sign I have on my lawn.

Here’s a concept we ought to consider: how about we vote on the merits of the project? Let’s leave the personalities out of it.

Yes, I’m aware that we have a lot on our plates these days. We struggle with rising insurance rates, crazy grocery bills, high rents and the usual array of buffoonery coming out of Washington D.C.

It’s easy to see why people tune out local politics.

But local politics are important.

If we elect the wrong people, civic achievements like Old School Square can go away in one night and cost taxpayers millions of dollars.

Elect the wrong people and suddenly an independent CRA that got things done can be commandeered by politicians late one night (without public notice) and an important economic development tool gets compromised when those politicians promptly make the agency political—imagine that.

If we elect the wrong people the culture at City Hall changes.

What does that mean for you?

Well,  getting a permit for your home improvement project can turn into a game of attrition, a simple public records request may take months to fulfill (if it gets fulfilled at all, I’ve been waiting on one since before Thanksgiving) and you may wake up one day to a giant sucking sound of police officers and firefighters leaving your town for better pastures.

Speaking of fire, how long does it take to replace a fire station?

The one on Linton sits abandoned for years, while firefighter/paramedics work out of a trailer. And while we wait, the cost of capital and construction costs soar.

Hey, it’s only taxpayer money….

So, here’s the big reveal.

Local government matters.

Local leadership counts.

But the political process is ugly and awful at all levels.

It’s going to be hard to drain the swamp that is Washington D.C.

I believe, someday soon, that we will be forced to do so because if you keep smashing against the guardrails someday you break through and you go off the cliff. And then you have to hope you survive the fall.

Pause, breathe… whew… sometimes it feels good to vent.

But let’s bring it back home shall we; to quote “Tip” O’Neill “all politics is local” and while fixing D.C. will take a Herculean effort, we can surely improve our little corner of this country. Yes, we can. And we must.

How?

We can vote. So many of us don’t, but we should.

We can insist on empathy, kindness, and respectful debate.

We can ask candidates to debate their respective visions and discuss what makes them think they can deliver for the people they work for: namely us.

Your background, skill set, education and life experience is fair game and so is your record if you have one. But personal insults, lies and attacks on family–cross a line.  And once that line is crossed it’s hard to go back. And hard to move forward as a community.

As for development can we raise the bar on the discourse please?

This is so tiring, cycle after cycle of misinformation and scare tactics.

Good grief.

So here goes…

Not all development is bad.

Not all development is good either.

But eliminating development is an impossibility. We live in a land where owners of real estate have property rights. If we ignore or trample those rights, we will be sued and we the taxpayer will pay the bill.

So, the job of an elected official is to vote against bad projects and vote for good projects and to take those good projects and make them better.

Delray Beach has restrictive land development regulations. We don’t allow 10 or 12 story buildings like our neighbors in Boca and Boynton do. That’s a good thing. I don’t know of any candidate who wants that to change.

There has never been a project that has been granted a waiver or a variance for height. Not one. The big buildings you see in east Delray were built in the 70s, before lower height restrictions were adopted.

Our scale makes Delray Beach special. There is no appetite to raise the height limit and no mechanism to do so.

As for density, well…that’s a complicated subject for another day, but let’s just say that in Delray our density is capped depending on the zoning district and there is no mechanism to raise it, so a developer can’t even ask for an exception.

Which begs the question, what are we arguing about?

We should be talking about uses: what do we want to see in Delray?

We should be talking about design: do projects fit into the local fabric? Are neighborhoods losing their charm because new home designs are incompatible with our village by the sea ideal.

We should be talking about traffic, which I would contend —and many urban planners would agree— is at least in part created by people driving to work because they don’t live here, because they can’t live here.

Like most cities in America, we need housing—attainable housing for our workforce, teachers, police, restaurant workers, firefighters, nurses etc.

Now attainable or affordable housing is a difficult subject, because in a city where land can fetch millions of dollars per acre, it is hard for projects to pencil out for a developer who typically needs financing to put a stake in the ground. For many workers, the cost of a single family home in Delray Beach is way beyond what they can afford. Their opportunity to live and work here may be limited–for now anyway and maybe forever–to living in a townhome, apartment or multifamily condo.

I have to go all the way back to my high school economics class, but when supply of something is limited, prices go up. As a result, in order to achieve some affordability, we are going to have to discuss adding more product (i.e. density) —-where it makes sense. Let me repeat, where it makes sense.

These are good conversations to have, but we aren’t having them as a community or as an electorate.
Instead, we are bombarded with endless attacks on whose taking money from development interests.

Well, here’s the answer: everyone running for office.

Everyone on the ballot in March is cashing checks from people who have real estate interests.

But here’s the difference, some candidates are open about it and others are cashing checks and then whacking their opponents for doing the same.

In the interests of full disclosure, I work for a company that invests in real estate. We’re not developers, but sometimes we joint venture with a developer. As a result of my experience in this community, I have gotten to know many developers.

Some are good.

Some are not so good.

But good developers don’t mind if you have high standards. They are OK if your rules are tough. What they want most is a fair process that doesn’t take forever. They want a system that judges projects on whether they meet the city’s rules and not on whether they supported a particular candidate or were seen at the wrong kickoff party.

We need to raise the level of debate. All of us. Every side.

Currently, we aren’t hearing a debate about our community’s future.

We have water issues to discuss, we have economic development opportunities (if we choose to care about jobs and our tax base) and we have cultural issues at City Hall which have led to a revolving door of talent coming and going (and often suing when they leave).

We have to figure out Old School Square (and how to pay for it, now that the non-profit that created the place was kicked to the curb in the middle of renovations) and most of all, we have to figure out how to get along with each other. We can start by not electing people who divide us.

Indeed, there are issues galore to discuss and think about.

We need candidates willing to tackle what we used to call “The Big Rocks.”
I got an email last week from a young man that I mentored when he was in high school and college. He asked me what I looked for in a mayor or a commission candidate.

My answer: leaders who aren’t afraid to wrestle with the toughest challenges there are.

What I dislike most?

So-called leaders who ignore those challenges and worst of all create problems and divisions.

Vote accordingly.

 

13 February, 2023 7 7 Comments

Valentine’s Day

February 13, 2023 By 7 Comments

“We need joy as we need air. We need love as we need water. We need each other as we need the earth we share.” – Maya Angelou

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and I’m thinking about love.

I’m listening to the late great Burt Bacharach and Bruce Springsteen and I’m listening to the universe too.

Because when I stop for just a moment, I hear, see, and notice things that I normally miss as I go from meeting to meeting, toggle from call to call and multi-task my way through life.

But when I slow down, I get clarity. I bet you do too.

Here’s what I noticed last week.

We went to see Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band in Orlando and I was transported once again by an artist I have been listening to since I was a young boy blasting my stereo in my room and dreaming about where life would take me.

His music still resonates, his words still matter.

“With her long hair falling

And her eyes that shine like a midnight sun

Oh she’s the one

She’s the one”

“She’s The One”  was released in 1975, when I was 11.

Back then, I just loved the music—the growl of the guitars, the beat of the drums. It was rock n’ roll and I was hooked.

As I got older, the words began to matter more. They began to mean something. And I started to wonder about the world. I began to dream.

Would I ever find someone who would make me feel —with every fiber of my being —that yes “she’s the one?”

But last week, when Bruce and the band launched into the song,  I looked at my wife and I knew—all over again—that yes “she’s the one.”

Same song. Same words. New emotions.

I slowed down, listened and I heard the magic.

On Thursday morning, I got up early to emcee an event for the Boca Chamber featuring two amazing doctors and the dynamic new CEO of Delray Medical Center.

I’ve done a lot of this kind of stuff over the years, but I still get nervous standing up in front of a large crowd. But it went well, and I was swept away by the passion of these health care professionals who are there for us 24/7/365/.

We heard from an oncologist named Mahdi Taha and a cardiologist named Eric Lieberman and I was moved by the care in their voices, their intelligence, and their message of early intervention. And I thought to myself: “we are so blessed to have these people in our world.”

We need more healers. We have enough dividers.

A few days earlier, a colleague and I made the trip to the Max Planck Florida Institute in Jupiter where a foundation I help manage is funding a fellowship in neuroscience.

We met with three brilliant scientists and an administrator for lunch and conversation. We toured the labs and watched experiments in real time.

It was captivating.

We were blown away by their intelligence, curiosity, and kindness. And I thought “someday we will have an answer for Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s and dementia, thanks to these brilliant minds.”

I am watching a dear friend and hero of mine struggle with Alzheimer’s and I am watching my beautiful and brave wife battle Parkinson’s and I am overcome with love for them and admiration for their strength and grace.

Strength and grace. Oh, how we long to see these traits in our leaders.

As I write this, we are in the middle of yet another brutal and demeaning election season in Delray Beach. Every year, it seems to get worse and worse, more personal, more visceral, in a word: stupid.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think we live in a hell scape.

We don’t.

It’s February and the sun is shining; the temperature is ideal.

We are surrounded by natural beauty, we have cultural and recreational amenities at our fingertips and despite the doom and gloom of the news the future is bright for us in South Florida.

I’m not blind to our challenges—we lack housing, our schools always need help and we have people who suffer from sickness, despair and  a lack of hope and opportunity.

And there is hatred in our society. It’s there.

Racism, antisemitism, misogyny, homophobia—and more.

There are people who wake up every day and live to bully, hurt, and tear down others.

The answer to all these problems and all the bullies out there is love.

I know that sounds trite, but sometimes trite is true.

One more example of what happens when you slow down long enough to notice.

I am on the board of Lynn University. It’s a joy, because the school is cool, innovative and most of all caring. The leadership team works well together. It reminds me of my days at the City of Delray Beach where I would marvel at the relationships between the various parts of our local government.

Where’s there’s trust, where’s there’s collaboration, you will find love and you will find success and progress too.

It’s not rocket science, it’s a simple formula but for some reason so elusive to capture and sustain.

Somehow egos, narcissism and bullies always seem to spoil the punch bowl.

We need to be conscience of these actors. We need to keep them away from the levers of power which they use to cause great and lasting damage. We need to insist on kindness and yes love.

I was on a conference call with Lynn’s President and his leadership team discussing how they engage students, how they try to be there for everyone and how they plan to reach out to local public safety workers to discuss the trauma they experience every day. It’s a team dedicated to serving others, a team dedicated to making the world a better place.

And I found myself energized just to be in their presence.

I noticed.

On this Valentine’s Day, I hope you’ll look around and notice too.

I’ll give my musical muse Bruce Springsteen the last word on this subject.

From the song “Land of Hope and Dreams.”

Grab your ticket and your suitcase

Thunder’s rolling down this track

Well you don’t know where you’re goin’ now

But you know you won’t be back

Well darlin’ if you’re weary

Lay your head upon my chest

We’ll take what we can carry

Yeah, and we’ll leave the rest

Well, big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams

Meet me in a land of hope and dreams….

3 February, 2023 6 6 Comments

Our Proud History: Remembering Mrs. Pompey

February 3, 2023 By 6 Comments

Pompey Park is more than just a name.

Editor’s Note:
I’m posting this blog a few days early because we are off to see Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band in Orlando and I know I will be too tired to post Monday. Seeing Bruce and the band after 7 long years of waiting is an emotional experience for us “Spring-Nuts” so I’m taking Monday off.

It’s Black History Month and I’m thinking about some of the people who made history right here in Delray Beach.

There are so many local giants, special people who led the way and left a legacy of love and service.

But this year, I’m thinking about one woman in particular: H. Ruth Pompey.

The H was for Hattie.

Mrs. Pompey passed away in 2009.

I miss her.

Mrs. Pompey was married to C. Spencer Pompey, a legendary civil rights leader, coach, and educator.

I’ve been reading Mr. Pompey’s book “Many Rivers to Cross” which his wife published after he passed and maybe that’s why I’ve thinking about Mrs. Pompey.

But there’s another reason she’s on my mind; and while I’m at it I’ve also been thinking about these folks too: Alfred “Zack” Straghn, Elizabeth “Libby” Wesley, Nadine Hart, Loretta and Sam McGhee, Joe and Carolyn Gholston,  David and Mary Randolph, Vera Farrington, Lula and Len Butler, Red and Yvonne Odom and Beatrice Tyson.

There are others. So many others. But for now, that list will do.

These were the matriarchs and patriarchs that shaped so many lives in Delray—mine included. We’ve lost many of them, but a few are still around.

We should be grateful for them all.

I’m thinking about them because they possess a common trait: they shared their wisdom with others.

All of them sought out promising up and comers, sat them down, and shared what they had learned. And they were sought out as well.  Smart people called them and asked them to share their thoughts, perspectives, and experiences.

It was an informal system and it worked because you learn from your elders and if you’re smart you take what they have learned, and you leverage that knowledge. You stand on the shoulders of those who came before. You reap the harvest from the seeds they struggled to plant and nurture.

That’s how progress happens, you build on the work of past leaders. You don’t rip things down and you don’t incinerate the hard work of others.

People like Mrs. Pompey were stewards. We need stewards because they understand what’s precious and what’s worth preserving.

It’s easy to rip something down.

It’s a lot harder to build something of value.

And sometimes when you erase things they are gone for good.  It’s like taking a tree and chopping off its limbs. Often, that tree dies and you’ve lost something majestic forever.

I wonder sometimes whether we understand that cruel rule.

I’ve been reading a lot about Tyre Nichols; trying to make sense of his senseless murder in Memphis. I wanted to know more; to feel more before he is lost forever and replaced by the next headline. And there’s always another headline isn’t there?

I learned that Mr. Nichols was a father, a skateboarder and a photographer who loved capturing sunsets. I have a friend who does the same thing. His name is Kerry and he was once a firefighter in Memphis. Yes, the universe connects us in magical ways.

I’ve also been reading about our Governor and the brouhaha over the AP African American History curriculum. I wonder who he’s consulted, who he’s sat with or if he’s consulted with anyone at all.

And I’ve been seeing the rage on social media that exists in our own community about our community and I’m left to wonder.

What would my friend H. Ruth Pompey say about it all?

Are there people like her still around? Do our leaders seek them out?

I did.

I spoke to many, and they carried me through every crisis, real or imagined in my life. There were many. When you step into the arena, crises come with the territory.

When Mrs. Pompey passed, I got a call from her daughter asking me to eulogize her mother. I had spoken at Mr. Pompey’s funeral in 2001. It was a great honor because he was a great man.

I was touched by the request to pay tribute to Mrs. Pompey.

I recently found the eulogy searching through emails that Mrs. Pompey sent me through the years. I wanted to hear her “voice”, I wanted to connect once more.

She didn’t write me often, she preferred phone calls or visits, but her emails were always full of encouragement and wisdom.

Hope too.

She was full of hope. And she had ambition. Dreams for her community, dreams for the world.

So, I wonder what she would make of “all this” …I don’t have a word for what we are going through. But I hope you know what I mean.

A young man died on the streets of Memphis calling for his mother….

In a few days, some of us will mark the 18th year since our community lost 15-year-old Jerrod Miller. But I suspect that most of us don’t know that name. Or remember what happened right here in our town. Please Google his name because it was an important event in our city.

Many of the people I mentioned earlier got us through that tragedy.

Their wisdom and perspective helped us immeasurably.

They are all part of our history; part of our fabric; part of our town’s DNA.

I fear we are losing that thread.

If you care to read, I’ve shared what I said at my friend’s funeral all those years ago.

She was so special.

We were so blessed.

Remembering Mrs. Pompey…

In the Jewish tradition there is a poem that is often read when a great woman passes.

 

The hymn is called “A Woman of Valor” and as soon I heard the news about Mrs. Pompey…my thoughts turned to the sentiments expressed in that beautiful 22-line poem, which was the eulogy that Abraham delivered for his wife Sarah.

 

“A Woman of Valor is worth more than pearls..”

 

Mrs. Pompey was a woman of valor and her beauty, her elegance, her wisdom, her intelligence, and her love has enriched all of our lives and the community that she called home from the age of 3…her beloved Delray Beach.

 

Mrs. Pompey’s life was poetry.

 

Like a poem there was a grace to her that defies my ability to describe…But if you knew her…if you experienced her essence for even a moment..you knew that you were with someone who understood the world…saw its beauty and its pain…and yet radiated hope, love and kindness for all her days.

 

She had a quality that very people that you meet in this life have…it was a light…

 

A light that shined so brightly that it not only illuminated her and her family…but also those of us who were blessed to know her….she lit up Delray Beach and this world for 86 years and while we are all saddened by her passing…we are grateful that her light shined for as long as it did on our lives and on our community…we are forever enriched by her presence…the poem that was her life….

 

I met Mr. and Mrs. Pompey when I was a 22-year-old newspaper reporter…new to Florida…new to my profession…and new to this community.

 

I sought the Pompey’s out because everyone I spoke with in town said that if I wanted to understand Delray…the history that didn’t necessarily show up in traditional texts…I needed to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Pompey.

 

And so I did.

We sat in their parlor, where they took time to educate a stranger so that I may do my job better…Mr. and Mrs. Pompey were great teachers and wonderful storytellers and because of the time they spent with me I fell in love with this community…its stories, its promise…its potential and most of all its people.

 

When I first contemplated public service…I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Pompey right after I consulted my immediate family. It is fair to say that without their blessing and encouragement I would not have run for office…such was the esteem that I held them in. Their belief in me inspired me…but also instilled in me a huge sense of responsibility.

 

“If you are going to serve, then make your service matter”…that’s a direct quote from Mrs. Pompey.

“ Don’t waste this opportunity,” she told me with a smile. “The sun rises, the sun sets…don’t hold anything back…make your service and your time on this Earth count.”

 

I wrote those words down in my reporter’s notebook and carried it with me in my heart and my mind through seven years of trials and tribulations in public office.

 

I loved Mrs. Pompey and I know she loved me…because she told me so. During some of my darkest moments…the kind of times when you question whether you have the fortitude to go on, I’d sneak over to her house across the street from the park named for her dear husband and she never failed to set me straight. Never…

 

I later learned she performed the same miracles for many others over decades and decades of life and service to others…she made each of us lucky enough to be exposed to her wisdom…..her poetry…feel like we were the most special people in the world. We were certainly the most fortunate…

 

I am a lucky man…because I have had 7 such special forces in my life…Mr. and Mrs. Pompey… Ms. Elizabeth Wesley…my grandfather, my mother, father and my wife…Three of those people are not kin, in the traditional sense anyway….but it didn’t matter …they made me feel like family.

 

Mrs. Pompey called me cousin Jeff…we were blood she joked…because several years ago I was privileged to donate blood after one of Mrs. Pompey’s surgeries.

 

“It’s official,” she said “We’re cousins.” And truth to be told… I did feel closer to her.

 

My wife reminded me this week of one of her favorite sayings…death does not end a relationship…the love goes on…and that is so true. And to the Pompey family…and all of us gathered here…we will continue to have a relationship with Mrs. Pompey because her lifeforce, her wisdom, the lessons she taught all of us will endure forever.

 

Mrs. Pompey…like her husband… was a visionary. She believed in education. She believed in G-D…she believed in community, service, sisterhood, and the potential of this city to be a beacon for the rest of America…and because she believed …we did too.

 

She worried about today’s young people…and we talked about the young men and women she saw outside her window…she took pride in those who sought knowledge and opportunity.

 

And she worried…really worried– about those left behind to wander the streets.

 

We spoke through the years about Delray’s history, and she told me of her husband’s many crusades…always playing down her role in his remarkable life. But we knew better…There were times—and I experienced a few of them…when she held this community together.

 

Mr. Pompey…he loved her so…they crossed many rivers together and showed us all a better future….

 

When Mr. Pompey passed in 2001, the light in Mrs. Pompey’s eyes dimmed…of course she had enough to light up a football field…but you could see she was not quite the same…Still… she persevered… it was tough though.

 

She missed the love of her life, every moment of her life.

 

Together they crossed so many rivers….integrating the beach right here in Delray…fighting for equal pay for African American teachers…ensuring that black children received the same number of days of instruction as their white neighbors and so much more…she never felt her work was done…my friends…that’s how the great ones think…as much as they achieve…as many accomplishments as they rack up…they see how much work there is left to do…they see the possibilities where others see limitations…they see more rivers to cross, which was the name of Mr. Pompey’s book.

 

And I wonder…as we lay Mrs. Pompey to rest alongside the love of her life…I wonder where we find people to take up the mission she so gladly and so gracefully took on.

She not only lived a good life, but a grand life. She did big things…she was a long-term thinker…she stood for causes larger than herself. There was no agenda…other than making her piece of the world better for others.

 

My hope is that the life she has led…this great woman of valor….is an inspiration for all of us to rise above our own problems and endeavor to make this world, this community a better place…find a river to cross…the rivers are there… all around us…

 

I’ll conclude with a funny anecdote…I hope it brings a smile to your face on this sad day…

 

Near the end of Mr. Pompey’s incredible life…we decided to hire a sculptor to capture the image of this great man in Bronze…sadly shortly after his sitting for the sculpture, Mr. Pompey passed away. But the project continued and the sculptor…inspired by Pompey’s legacy…finished her masterpiece…

 

The finished product was larger than life. Literally.

 

It also didn’t look anything like Mr. Pompey…in fact…truth be told…when we showed it to people, they thought it looked like Zack Straghn….

 

But the artist insisted she captured Mr. Pompey’s spirit, and so we showed the sculpture to Hattie Ruth…now we all know how polite and genteel she was. Her greatest delight was showing her friends pictures of her sororities debutantes…taking great pride in their appearance and their manners…

 

True to form….she looked at the sculpture and not having the best poker face…it was clear that she thought it looked like Mr. Straghn too…but she didn’t want to hurt the artist’s feelings so she said she could…well…live with it.

 

So, the artist left and a day or so passed…a few of us called just to make sure that she was OK with this sculpture…we reminded her that this piece was going to be in City Hall in her hometown forever…and that as much as we loved Mr. Straghn…and you certainly deserve your very own sculpture sir…maybe we ought try again.

 

And so, we did. And the artist…our dear friend George Gadson, got it right. But Mrs. Pompey made sure we didn’t hurt the original artist. That was Mrs. Pompey always concerned about others.

 

Today that sculpture greets all those who come to the heart of power and citizen led government in Delray Beach…it is my wish that we add to that collection and find a way to honor Mrs. Pompey so that generations of people who visit, live, work and study in Delray shall know the impact of this great woman and this great family.

 

Their memory should be a daily and living reminder of sacrifice…service over self…civility….and equal opportunity for all.

 

She once gazed out her window and worried about the youth of this community…we can cross that river in her honor and do our best as a village to heal those whose lack of direction in life troubled her so.

 

Mrs. Pompey loved poetry— her favorite poet was Paul L. Dunbar. I read his works this week as I mourned the loss of my friend…my family member by blood….and I drew comfort from the words of this African American poet who died at 33 in 1905….

 

This is a poem called “The Farmhouse by the River”…When I read this, I want you to picture that small ranch house overlooking Pompey Park….

 

“I know a little country place where still my heart does linger,

And over its fields is every grace lined out by memory’s finger.

 Back from the lane where poplars grew and aspens quake and quiver,

There stands all bath’d in summer’s glow a farm house by the river.

 Its eaves are touched with golden light so sweetly, softly shining,

 And morning glories full and bright about the doors are twining.

And there endowed with every grace That nature’s hand could give her, there lived the angel of the place in the farm house by the river.”

 

Mrs. Pompey crossed many rivers …she was the angel of a place call Delray…and she will live in our hearts forever….

« Previous Page
Next Page »