Delray Beach and Boca Raton Real Estate and Homes for Sale

Watch as Jeff and Dave, the founders of YourDelrayBoca.com, give you their take on the local real estate market:

There is no more dynamic real estate market in the U.S. than Boca-Delray.

From oceanfront mansions and historic homes to picturesque country clubs and subdivisions the market is vibrant, the choices are endless and the neighborhoods varied depending on age range, price and taste. The area features everything from old Florida to the most modern downtown condo’s and townhomes.

You are sure to find exactly what you want in these two world-class cities.

Buying or selling in the Delray-Boca area and need a recommendation? We can help. Learn more here.

23 September, 2024 3 3 Comments

Looking at Boca…

September 23, 2024 By 3 Comments

From left, Mayor Singer, Boca Chamber President Troy McClellan and Councilman Andy Thomson.

Last week, I wrote about some of the amazing things happening in West Palm Beach.

I touched briefly on Boca Raton, but I realized that there is more to talk about when it comes to Boca.

It’s funny, when you’ve been the mayor of a neighboring city, people get antsy when you say something nice about another community. One time– way past my “sell by” date— I rode on a float with the Mayor of Lake Worth Beach in the Delray holiday parade.

On the float, I was given a t-shirt touting Lake Worth. It read something like this: “Lake Worth, Making Delray Nervous for 100 years.” I thought the message was cute and complimentary of Delray because it hints that our town is an ideal that others strive to match.

But apparently I hit a nerve and a local gadfly went after me on Facebook as if I defected to Cuba and declared my love for communism. Oh well…

As they say in NY…tough noogies. I like Lake Worth Beach. Always have, always will.

Anyway, Boca has been a friendly rival of Delray for years—with the emphasis on friendly.

Way back when, I debated then Boca Mayor Steven Abrams about the merits of both cities. We squared off in the atrium of a Boca office building and had a great time. The Boca News (rest in peace) even put us on the cover in boxing gear.

It’s always good when we can approach life with a sense of humor. National politicians should take note: just like Boca and Delray aren’t enemies, Americans shouldn’t be at war with each other either.

But let’s avoid the national mess and revisit Boca Raton, which is nearing its 100th birthday as a city in 2025.

I had the pleasure of attending a half-day CityLead leadership conference recently at Boca Raton Community Church. CityLead is a monthly event that attracts a wide variety of local leaders. Pastor Bill Mitchell has been leading this effort for a decade and it’s wonderful. Check it out, I promise you won’t regret it: https://citylead.com/boca/

Once a year, they do a half-day conference and I was finally able to attend as a guest of 4Kids of South Florida, a wonderful nonprofit that partners with the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation.

It was a great day with lots of highlights and lots of takeaways that I’m still processing.

But one segment I got right away.

It was a 15-minute panel featuring Boca Raton Mayor Scott Singer, City Councilman Andy Thomson and Boca Chamber CEO Troy McClellan.

In that short period of time, these three civic leaders touted why they love Boca Raton. They talked about the city’s business development efforts (39 publicly traded companies call Boca home), the quality of life, the fact that young people are flocking to the city for jobs (the median age of Boca is getting younger and is now 47) and how the city seems to have “aspiration” in its DNA. From Addison Mizner’s dream, to the brave soldiers who once called Boca home during World War II, from the IBM era to today’s thriving economy Boca Raton has it going on and these leaders were beaming with civic pride.

But they talked about the “soft stuff” too. Councilman Thomson spoke passionately about an effort to promote neighborliness and how he plans to work with homeowner associations and community organizations to encourage people to check in with their neighbors. Mayor Singer talked about the people who come to Boca and find ways to serve and engage. My friend Troy talked about community institutions such as the 75-year-old chamber, trusted nonprofits like the George Snow Scholarship Fund and the fact that even with 103,000 people Boca still feels like a community.

Pastor Mitchell noted that the speakers filled the air with positivity about Boca and never talked about the wonderful beaches, beautiful parks and A-rated schools. In other words, Boca has lots of good stuff.

I felt the civic pride and during a break I caught up with Mayor Singer. He was approached by several people who expressed their love of Boca, including one young woman who graduated from Boca High, went to the University of Florida and came home to work in advertising. She told the mayor she wanted to be the next generation of leadership in the city.

That short conversation captured everything—the holy grail of community building. You want young people to feel excited about their hometown. You want people to fall in love with a place and dedicate themselves to making it better.

Troy, Andy, Scott and Bill Mitchell all mentioned being stewards of their special city. They showed respect to past leaders who built an awesome place, and they saw their roles as making their city better.

Now I’m sure some don’t like growth; others can’t stand the traffic and still others lament the changes that have occurred. No place is perfect, and no place is perfect for everyone. But cities are not museums, they change, they evolve and if you work hard and are intentional they change for the better. But some things should never change: respect for the past, nurturing a sense of community, caring for others and creating opportunity for future generations.

What I saw at CityLead and what I know from watching and doing business in Boca for a long time is that it’s a strong city with lots of valuable assets and anchors. All those anchors and assets matter—the universities, the businesses, the parks, the beach, the schools, the nonprofits and the places of worship—but the most valuable resource is always the  people who call a place home.

People provide leadership, pride of place and aspiration.

Boca has it. And they appreciate what they have.

 

Mercury Morris

Dolphins great Mercury Morris died over the weekend at the age of 77.

Mr. Morris was a talented running back who won two Super Bowls with the Dolphins in the 70s and was on the team that had the “perfect season.”

Post football he had some legal issues that were eventually tossed and he became a well-traveled public speaker. As a rookie journalist in Binghamton N.Y. in the mid 80s, I had a chance to interview Mr. Morris when he visited Broome County Community College. He was my first “celebrity” interview and I was really nervous to meet him. In short order, I had a chance to meet and interview MASH actor Mike Farrell and Watergate figure G. Gordon Liddy. Farrell was wonderful, Liddy was… let’s say… colorful. But Mercury Morris helped to put these interviews in perspective for me. I remember him as being kind, intelligent and determined to share his story with young people.

I am a football fan so that was common ground and I got to ask him about the famed back field he was part of alongside Jim Kiick and Larry Csonka.

I still have the “clip” from that interview and I used the piece as part of my collection of clips to apply for jobs in South Florida. I liked how the interview turned out and I figured that editors would me more interested in the NFL than my stories about whether there should be a solid waste facility in Vestal, N.Y. or rural Conklin.

Rest well Mercury and thanks for the memories. What a football player. He was electric.

 

16 September, 2024 4 4 Comments

Vision + Aspiration=Change

September 16, 2024 By 4 Comments

West Palm Beach

I took a tour of an apartment building in downtown West Palm Beach recently.

That may not sound too exciting, but it was.

From the top floor we had a beautiful panoramic view of the downtown. My guide was excitedly describing what was happening below. I was swept away by his enthusiasm.

To the north he noted the site of a proposed Vanderbilt University campus, a $300 million vision that includes training the next generation of tech engineers and business leaders.

To the east, he noted the presence of Palm Beach Atlantic University which has an ambitious plan to maximize the potential of its urban campus.

We saw several sites purchased by Stephen Ross, the visionary chair of Related Companies who’s leading the charge on Vanderbilt, investing in gleaming new office towers and building new residential projects on sites that are currently blighted with boarded up homes.

Ross is a real estate legend.

And at 83, he’s chosen West Palm Beach as the place to cement his legacy. He’s making a bet that West Palm will become the city in a region that’s already booming.

According to Bloomberg, Ross’ Related Cos. owns almost half the office stock in West Palm Beach’s downtown and he’s building more.

But the vision doesn’t stop at offices, hotels and residential towers. Ross has also signaled that he’s going to be a player in everything from schools to health care. He has stated that he hopes to make West Palm Beach “a model city for the country.”

It’s heady stuff.

But we’ve seen examples of this before.

On the west coast, Tampa Bay Lightning owner Jeff Vinik is playing a major role in the growth of Tampa. We saw the vision of Wayne Huizenga shape Fort Lauderdale and Broward County. We are also witnessing the impact of entrepreneurs like Jorge Perez and Manny Medina in Miami. Their efforts have forever changed the trajectory of “the Magic City.”

So, what does this mean for those of us who call southern Palm Beach County home?

Well, certainly a rising tide lifts all boats so there will be benefits to the maturation of West Palm Beach.

But like any “renaissance” there will be winners and losers.

As noted before in this space, building and maintaining economies and cities is a complex endeavor with lots of moving parts. It’s part art and part science. There’s also a need for serendipity, which is always welcome, but can’t be counted on or plugged into a spreadsheet.

Never underestimate the magic. It may or may not visit, but it tends to be fleeting so you need to take be ready and take advantage of it when it arrives.

Still, there are also lots of unintended consequences when cities transform—some are happy, and some are not.

When catalytic entrepreneurs with vision, guts, capital and smarts show up and decide to make a splash there’s sure to be a ripple effect.

We will most likely see job creation.

Hopefully, we will see increased philanthropy.

We will benefit in a myriad of ways from the newcomers who will be attracted to all the excitement.

For those of us already here, we may see and seize opportunities. But others will be left behind. And we need to be aware of the communities at risk.

Hopefully, these mavericks and those who follow in their wake will be creating a community in which our children will sense opportunity and want to come home after going away to college. I never felt it made any sense to spend billions on pre-K through university level education only to see our best and brightest leave because they don’t see opportunity here at home.

But there are downsides as well to transformational change.

We will need to be mindful of the environment and ensure that as we urbanize, we make sure to preserve open space. (Hey governor, leave the parks alone).

It’s good to see growth happening in the urban core of West Palm. It beats sprawl, which is bad for the environment and creates traffic.

We already struggle—mightily–with affordability. And as the county attracts investment above and beyond what Mr. Ross is doing, we are likely to see even more upward pressure on housing prices.

There will be a need to preserve neighborhoods from the threat of displacement and we must find a way to house our workforce. If your essential workers can’t afford to live here, you don’t have a community, you have a theme park for rich people. (I think I saw that phrase somewhere and  I agree with it.)

As a proud resident of Southern Palm Beach County, I applaud West Palm’s transformation. I’m rooting for that city and it’s Mayor Keith James. He’s a good guy.

But I also hope and expect that our neck of the woods will find its own path forward. We certainly have unlimited potential.

Boca Raton has a robust economic development program, a business-friendly City Council, an extraordinary Chamber of Commerce, an excellent research park, top tier office product, one of the best malls in the nation, FAU, Lynn University, Palm Beach State College, a world class resort, an airport and a Brightline station.

Boca is also pondering a new downtown government campus that could reinvigorate the area. Some council members are talking about the redevelopment of the campus as a billion dollar plus project. Then there’s the continued development of The Center for the Arts & Innovation at Mizner Park, an ambitious effort that has enormous upside potential. In addition, Boca is experiencing a residential housing boom with several multifamily projects working their way through the approval process.

As for Delray, when I think about the future my mind goes back to the city’s Cultural Plan which was done about 20 years ago.

In that plan, the consultant noted that Delray needed to find its place in the cultural landscape. It was recommended that the city not compete with West Palm’s Kravis Center or the Broward Center for the Performing Arts but rather carve its own niche by offering unique and intimate cultural opportunities. The larger point is you need to find your  positioning in the marketplace based on local sensibilities (and sensitivities, i.e. no tall buildings), what’s possible and perhaps what’s missing.

With West Palm and Palm Beach Gardens anchoring the northern part of the county and Boca off to the races, where does Delray fit in?

That’s the challenge and the opportunity. I do know that the best way to determine the path forward is to engage the community in a visioning process. It’s been a while since we’ve had one.

I also know that if you fail to plan, you plan to fail. You can’t control the market, but you can shape your own destiny.

Thoughts…

Do you ever scroll social media when you are on a boring call?

I admit that I do, sometimes anyway.

That’s what I was doing last week when I came across a post from a former teacher of mine who announced that he had just lost his wife hours earlier to Alzheimer’s.

This was not just any teacher; this was my favorite teacher. I had him in 4th grade and incredibly we are still in touch although I haven’t seen him in person since 1973.

Back then, he was a young teacher just starting out. He left an impression on all of us. He stayed in touch with many of my classmates and a whole lot of other students he impacted during a career that saw him scale great heights as a principal and administrator.

I enjoy following his adventures on social media. Trips to great locations, ski vacations and family celebrations always with his beautiful wife alongside him.

Even though I never met her, I did feel I kind of knew her. She must have been awesome because my friend is very special.

I knew they met as teenagers. He went to her Sweet 16 and their first date was a Billy Joel show back when he was playing Long Island bars and bowling alleys. My friend’s wife went to school with Billy.

Over the years, we tried and failed to get together during my infrequent trips home to Long Island. It just never worked out. That saddens me, because I would really love to be in the same room with this special teacher and learn even more about his life. I can’t pinpoint the exact lessons he imparted when I was a kid, all I know is I learned a lot and had a good time.

It was around 4th grade that I fell in love with writing. I’m sure my teacher encouraged me, that’s what great teachers do.

I didn’t know my friend’s wife had Alzheimer’s. What an awful disease, you end up losing people twice. My heart aches for him and all those struggling with this disease.

 

Remembering Johnny Pun

Johnny Pun

Also on social media, I saw this post from the Delray Beach Police Department honoring Officer Johnny Pun on the 19th anniversary of his death. Johnny was a friend of mine. During my newspaper days, I rode with him many times on midnight warrant sweeps etc.

Johnny had an infectious smile, an expansive view of what a police officer can mean to a community and was a lot of fun to be around. Here’s what our PD said. It’s a beautiful tribute.

Honoring the Memory of Officer Jean “Johnny” Pun

This week, we take a moment to honor and remember a true hero, Officer Jean “Johnny” Pun, who tragically passed away on September 10, 2005, in an off-duty motor vehicle accident. Officer Pun was more than just a colleague; he was a cherished friend, a source of strength, and a leader within our community.

Officer Pun made an incredible impact in Delray Beach, especially in fostering connections between law enforcement and the city’s Haitian population and youth. His dedication to community policing and building trust with residents set him apart, creating a lasting bond that continues to inspire us today.

Officer “Johnny” Pun’s legacy is one of unity, love, and compassion—values that continue to guide us in serving this great community. We will forever carry his memory in our hearts.

9/11/

From Morning Brew: “Last week, New York officials revealed a sobering statistic: For the first time, more FDNY first responders have died from their exposure to toxins at Ground Zero (370) than were killed on the day of the attacks (343), including 28 in the past year. Union leaders are imploring Congress to extend funding for the World Trade Center Health Program, which runs out in 2028, through 2090, to ensure that every survivor can receive care.

The FDNY said urgency is needed before 9/11 fades from people’s memories: It soon plans to hire people born after Sept. 11, 2001.”

We must never forget.

And I don’t think we will.

On Sept. 11 I was at a meeting at FAU’s Schmidt College of Medicine. Before we began our meeting, one of the participants asked us to pause to think about those we lost on that fateful day. He asked whether we knew anyone personally who perished in the attack. Three of the four meeting participants said they did lose someone they knew. I guess they call that “Six Degrees of Separation”.

We lost 3,000 plus people and yet our small group had personal connections. Very powerful indeed.

Michael Boyle, NYFD, your classmates will always remember you.

 

 

 

6 September, 2024 2 2 Comments

Cities (Updated)

September 6, 2024 By 2 Comments

The Block 40 Food Hall In downtown Hollywood.

We took a brief staycation recently after a hectic few weeks and I have to say it does your soul a favor to take a break from it all. Even for a day.
We went to Hollywood Beach, a 45 minute drive from Delray and spent a day and a night at the Diplomat Resort on the ocean.
It’s fairly reasonable this time of year, despite the $17 drinks.
Hollywood is an interesting city with “good bones” as they say courtesy of its visionary founder Joe Young. There’s a walkable downtown, a magnificent beach and a few traffic circles that will keep you on your toes if you’re driving.
We checked out the new Block 40 Food Hall, a good example of adaptive reuse. The food hall occupies the building that once housed the historic Great Southern Hotel, built by Young 100 years ago to house workers who were building his dream. If you’re a film buff, you may recognize the hotel from its appearance in “Midnight Cowboy.”
We dined at Lux Burger, watched Delray’s Coco Gauff play at the U.S. Open and then took a walk around town.
My wife Diane was a young planner who worked for the City of Hollywood at the start of her career so it was interesting to hear her talk about the changes that have occurred since the 80s.
There’s lots of development happening in Hollywood—high rises..a very different vision than Delray’s.
I like our scale, but there’s room for different styles and visions.
I believe cities need their own visions and “positioning” so to speak. Variety is truly the spice of life. It’s nice that South Florida has a wide variety of cities.
I’ve always been fascinated by Hollywood, Pompano Beach and Lake Worth Beach…Boca, Fort Lauderdale and West Palm too.
I see those cities as places with lots of potential. It’s been interesting to see their progress or lack thereof. It’s been interesting to see the changes that have occurred since I discovered these cities after moving to South Florida in 1987.
I like cities that have “grids”, traditional downtowns, lots of amenities and natural gifts such as beautiful beaches or lakes like Lake Ida. Lake Ida is so underrated.
Which in a roundabout way, brings me back to Hollywood.
We spoke to a bartender who lives downtown and she thinks the city will become the “new” Miami.
Maybe. I don’t know.
I don’t know enough about the politics to understand the contours of Hollywood’s aspirations.
But walking around the downtown I felt the potential, but also saw the challenges of creating a vibrant downtown.
It’s not an easy endeavor.
There are some formulas—events to bring people downtown, accessible parking, decorative street lights, culture, a good mix of restaurants and retail—but you need some magic too. You need some chemistry: I can’t quite explain it. But I have seen it!
Delray managed to make it happen—the result of a lot of years, a lot of investment and a lot of people rowing in the same direction and taking risks.
Sometimes those risks work, and sometimes they don’t. But if you learn from the experiments that fail, you’ll find a way forward.
Years ago, when Delray was striving mightily to revive the downtown, someone —I can’t remember who— said something that stuck with me.
“Downtown will never be done.”
In other words, you can’t ever declare victory; you have to keep at it.
It’s a simple statement but profound nonetheless. There is a tendency to get complacent when you achieve a certain level of success.
But you can’t. Complacency is a killer. In every aspect of life.
The second statement I remember from those days was that “downtown is the heart of the city, without a healthy heart, the city will struggle.”
How true.
The third statement from that era I can attribute to retired City Manager David Harden. He told us that our biggest challenge would be surviving success.
Truth is, I wasn’t sure what he meant at the time. I thought success would breed more success. And it does, for a while.
But success can also breed complacency and contempt. How much is too much? What fits and what doesn’t?
Does the success include everyone? Has the success priced out people who want to live here or who do live here and may be forced to leave?
I believe change is inevitable and can be healthy. I also believe that change is never easy or straightforward.
How do you change and keep your soul? How do you aspire and ensure that you are inclusive?
All of these thoughts flooded my mind as I looked out at the ocean from our room at the Diplomat.
The last time I was here, I was a mayor attending a League of Cities convention or was it a Florida Redevelopment Association meeting? I don’t remember.
But I’m still thinking about those very same questions. Still wrestling with the riddle of cities. Still fascinated about what it takes to succeed and what the definition of success for a city actually means

2 September, 2024 0 Comments

Cities

September 2, 2024 By Leave a Comment

 

 

The Block 40 Food Hall In downtown Hollywood.     We took a brief staycation recently after a hectic few weeks and I have to say it does your soul a favor to take a break from it all. Even for a day. 
We went to Hollywood Beach, a 45 minute drive from Delray and spent a day and a night at the Diplomat Resort on the ocean. 
It’s fairly reasonable this time of year, despite the $17 drinks. 
Hollywood is an interesting city with “good bones” as they say courtesy of its visionary founder Joe Young. There’s a walkable downtown, a magnificent beach and a few traffic circles that will keep you on your toes if you’re driving. 
We checked out the new Block 40 Food Hall, a good example of adaptive reuse. The food hall occupies the building that once housed the historic Great Southern Hotel, built by Young 100 years ago to house workers who were building his dream. If you’re a film buff, you may recognize the hotel from its appearance in “Midnight Cowboy.”
We dined at Lux Burger, watched Delray’s Coco Gauff play at the U.S. Open and then took a walk around town. 
My wife Diane was a young planner who worked for the City of Hollywood at the start of her career so it was interesting to hear her talk about the changes that have occurred since the 80s. 
There’s lots of development happening in Hollywood—high rises..a very different vision than Delray’s. 
I like our scale, but there’s room for different styles and visions. 
I believe cities need their own visions and “positioning” so to speak. Variety is truly the spice of life. It’s nice that South Florida has a wide variety of cities. 
I’ve always been fascinated by Hollywood, Pompano Beach and Lake Worth Beach…Boca, Fort Lauderdale and West Palm too.  
I see those cities as places with lots of potential. It’s been interesting to see their progress or lack thereof. It’s been interesting to see the changes that have occurred since I discovered these cities after moving to South Florida in 1987. 
I like cities that have “grids”, traditional downtowns, lots of amenities and natural gifts such as beautiful beaches or lakes like Lake Ida. Lake Ida is so underrated. 
Which in a roundabout way, brings me back to Hollywood. 
We spoke to a bartender who lives downtown and she thinks the city will become the “new” Miami. 
Maybe. I don’t know. 
I don’t know enough about the politics to understand the contours of Hollywood’s aspirations. 
But walking around the downtown I felt the potential, but also saw the challenges of creating a vibrant downtown. 
It’s not an easy endeavor. 
There are some formulas—events to bring people downtown, accessible parking, decorative street lights, culture, a good mix of restaurants and retail—but you need some magic too. You need some chemistry: I can’t quite explain it. But I have seen it!
Delray managed to make it happen—the result of a lot of years, a lot of investment and a lot of people rowing in the same direction and taking risks. 
Sometimes those risks work, and sometimes they don’t. But if you learn from the experiments that fail, you’ll find a way forward.  
Years ago, when Delray was striving mightily to revive the downtown, someone —I can’t remember who— said something that stuck with me. 
“Downtown will never be done.”
In other words, you can’t ever declare victory; you have to keep at it. 
It’s a simple statement but profound nonetheless. There is a tendency to get complacent when you achieve a certain level of success. 
But you can’t. Complacency is a killer. In every aspect of life. 
The second statement I remember from those days was that “downtown is the heart of the city, without a healthy heart, the city will struggle.”
How true. 
The third statement from that era I can attribute to retired City Manager David Harden. He told us that our biggest challenge would be surviving success. 
Truth is, I wasn’t sure what he meant at the time. I thought success would breed more success. And it does, for a while. 
But success can also breed complacency and contempt. How much is too much? What fits and what doesn’t? 
Does the success include everyone? Has the success priced out people who want to live here or who do live here and may be forced to leave? 
I believe change is inevitable and can be healthy. I also believe that change is never easy or straightforward. 
How do you change and keep your soul? How do you aspire and ensure that you are inclusive?
All of these thoughts flooded my mind as I looked out at the ocean from our room at the Diplomat. 
The last time I was here, I was a mayor attending a League of Cities convention or was it a Florida Redevelopment Association meeting? I don’t remember. 
But I’m still thinking about those very same questions. Still wrestling with the riddle of cities. Still fascinated about what it takes to succeed and what the definition of success for a city actually means. 

 

 

1 July, 2024 4 4 Comments

Pharmageddon And The Third Place

July 1, 2024 By 4 Comments

The iconic Huber Pharmacy.

Fortune Magazine ran a piece recently that has stuck with me.

The article talked about the death of the American pharmacy. A bit overblown perhaps, but intriguing nonetheless.

As the son of a retail pharmacist, I read the piece through a personal lens. I saw up close how important the neighborhood pharmacy is to the community. Losing that staple in the neighborhood is yet another example of a thread pulled with unexpected consequences.

The neighborhood pharmacy has been on the ropes for decades now—competition from chains, big box stores, online pharmacies and supermarkets squeezed the independents making them as rare as bismuth crystals. (Look it up, fascinating).

Sure, there are a few independents left—we have a few in Delray and Boca—but they are rare sightings in a world where Walgreens and CVS seem to fill every corner. While writing this blog, I learned of the permanent closing of the iconic Huber Pharmacy, a staple on Atlantic Avenue for decades.

But now the chain stores are having a meltdown as well.

Big chains are shutting down hundreds of locations creating a phenomenon known as “pharmacy deserts” which sadly seems to impact vulnerable populations the most. According to Fortune, in 2023 there were 4,550 fewer pharmacies than a decade ago. And the National Community Pharmacists Association said in February that several thousand more local pharmacies, up to a third of its members, could close this year.

We are not quite at that point in the Delray /Boca area, but I think it’s fair to anticipate that based on trends, we may see a few of our chain stores close.

My dad, long retired, but with a lot of experience in the field, has always wondered how so many stores could survive so close to one another. How could they be adequately staffed? Wouldn’t they begin to cannibalize each another?

I counted 9 CVS stores in Delray and 29 in Boca Raton. (I may be off a little, this was a cursory internet search), Walgreen’s has a similar footprint. That’s a whole lot.

In addition, pharmacists are under stress these days. There’s a term for this kind of burn out; it’s called “pharmageddon.”

Citing overwork and added responsibilities (vaccinations, flu shots etc.) pharmacists are fleeing the industry at an alarming rate.

All of this adds up to a lot an worrisome situation. Pharmacies and pharmacists are important front line health care assets, a critical part of our local infrastructure as we learned during the pandemic.

Competition, burn-out, recruiting issues, general challenges in the retail sector and relentless squeezing of profits by insurance middlemen are conspiring to pinch even the large chains.

And if the large chains are challenged to survive, how are the small pharmacies supposed to make it?

I find all of it sad.

Truth be told, I won’t be broken-hearted if we have a few less chain stores  although I would feel bad for the employees. But it’s the loss of the independent drug store that stings.

In typing that sentence, I realize I am part of the problem. I do shop occasionally at an independent, but it has been years since I’ve filled a prescription at a store that resembles my dad’s old Maple Pharmacy, which is still going strong in Smithtown, N.Y.

It’s not that I enjoy CVS or Walgreen’s, I find CVS’ lack of cashiers mystifying since I see people walk out of the store in frustration after being unable to scan items. What makes the chains alluring is the convenience—they are everywhere, even if that might be changing.

But I remember when we valued a relationship with our local retailer. I remember how my father and his partner knew every customer and how those customers trusted their advice and recommendations.

I did get to know my pharmacist at CVS until he disappeared one day. I hear that he’s back, but truth be told, I started using the drive through where I barely see anyone so I wouldn’t know.

Those micro relationships are important touch points. I used to know my teller at Truist, until they replaced her with a voice through a small microphone. She used to give my dogs treats, until one day she was gone. It made it easier for me to switch banks–I no longer had a relationship at Truist.

The neighborhood grocer was another fixture of a time long past. I think Trader Joe’s comes closest because their staff is friendly and helpful, a throwback to a more personal time.

Lately, I’ve noticed what seems to me to be an inordinate number of restaurants going out of business in our town. High rents, high costs of goods, difficulty finding employees, and tons of competition in a hard business leads to the loss of many staples. I will miss Cabana El Rey, I really enjoyed Zima and Christina’s is a major loss—it was a sweet place to meet friends for breakfast and lunch.

The common touchpoint was that all those places were independent and as a result we got to know the wait staff, the managers, the owners, and the bar tenders over the years. For example, I love the food at Papas Tapas, but I also enjoy waving to Papa who is always there with a smile.

Those kinds of interactions give a place soul.

And friends, we need a large dose of soul in our lives.

I find myself thinking a lot about what makes a place special. It always comes down to the unique threads that stir something inside of us. I find myself thinking about an author I admire who taught me that lesson.

Ray Oldenberg was an urban sociologist and a wonderful writer. He coined the term “third place” which referred to places where people spend time between home (first place) and work (second place). They are the places where we meet people, share ideas, have a good time and build relationships. When we lose those places—the barber shop, the diner, the coffee shop and yes, the pharmacy we lose a little of ourselves as well.

I’m working on a play about a third place. I have no idea how to write a play, but I am trying to capture what a third place can mean to a community. The joy is in the writing, the joy is in the connections we make. And the joy is finding those places where we can nurture our humanity in a world gone cold.

 

News and Notes

I was thrilled to see Esther Isaacs Williams win the Leadership Florida Distinguished Member Award a few weeks ago.

Esther is a wonderful community servant who has been involved for decades in Boca and Delray.

Here’s what Leadership Florida had to say about our friend.

“Ethel Isaacs Williams’ 30-year history of visionary leadership is positively changing communities on local, state, and international levels. She puts into action the principles that are the cornerstone of Leadership Florida. She currently serves as the elected president of The Links, Incorporated, an international not-for-profit corporation and one of the nation’s oldest and largest volunteer service organizations. It has over 17,000 members in over 300 local chapters. In Florida, there are 20 local chapters. The Links members provide over one million hours of documented community service annually. In the over 79-year history of the organization, Ethel is only the third Floridian to serve as an international president. Under her leadership, The Links have expanded national initiatives to include STEMReady, national mentoring for students, and expanded financial literacy programming.”

Congratulations and well done!

Have a safe and happy 4th. Happy birthday America.

13 May, 2024 18 18 Comments

Trying to Make Sense of Density

May 13, 2024 By 18 Comments

Worthing Place

Note: I’ve been involved with the Urban Land Institute (ULI) for close to 20 years now. It’s a wonderful organization with chapters throughout the world dedicated to real estate and land use. Over the years, I’ve been asked to work with ULI panels to help cities navigate issues and seize opportunities. I’ve had a chance to work in places like Winter Park, Tamarac, West Palm Beach, and Fort Lauderdale. Recently, the City of Deerfield Beach engaged ULI in a community wide discussion about density. I thought I’d share my talk since it focused on our experience with the “D” word in Delray Beach.

 

The story of density in my hometown Delray Beach can be told through the saga of one project: Worthing Place which is located on Atlantic Avenue in the heart of our downtown. My hope tonight is that the Delray story—what worked and what didn’t– can offer you some insights that might help your city as you move forward.

Worthing Place is a 6- story, 60-foot tall apartment building with some restaurants and shops on the ground floor. It is set back from the street and sits behind a small pocket park which has become a lively space to watch the hustle and bustle of a very busy downtown.

It features 217 units on about 2.4 acres, which works out to roughly 90 units per acre, or three times the current density allowed in our downtown.

The Delray Beach CRA assembled the property in the mid-90s with a goal of creating a mixed-use project that would replace blight with vibrancy. We believed that housing was an essential component to jumpstarting a downtown that had shown some signs of life after a very rough decade in which we experienced 40 percent vacancy and virtually no nightlife. You could have gone bowling on Atlantic Avenue in the 80s and not hit anything.

 

The RFP was awarded to a team of experienced local developers who agreed to build a public parking garage before breaking ground on the apartments and retail. That offer, to build a garage benefiting the public before building apartments, was seen as a key to the winning bid.

But the size of the project—it’s height and density—split the town into two warring factions.

The project was approved and the city was immediately hit with lawsuits that prevented the project from moving forward. The developers built the garage—as promised, but litigation meant that they could not build the actual project.

When I was elected in 2000, the commission I served on inherited the lawsuits—I believe there were six or seven of them—but we also inherited the division over growth and development that this project ignited in our city.

Delray Beach is a very special place—we guard our charm and strive to maintain the brand of being a village by the sea.

We don’t allow tall buildings, but we do fight over 3 and 4 story buildings and density is a very, very touchy subject.

Mindful of these dynamics and wanting to unify the community after the tough fight over Worthing Place, we decided as a city commission to bring the community together and create a downtown master plan.

We did a massive public awareness campaign to get as many stakeholders to the table for a series of charettes or public meetings where we could brainstorm, draw, share and learn together. Our goal was to plan for a sustainable downtown that managed to be vibrant while being respectful of property rights as well as the look and feel our town.

Our tagline for the effort was “Keeping the Charm” and that was the goal.

Mind you, that’s not an easy task for a city…my idea of charm or of a village by the sea may be very different from my neighbors. Some may want a vibrant, bustling village and others may want a sleepy village. But we tried to work together as a community to come up with a consensus vision and policies to preserve, protect and enhance our downtown.

We produced a large document…but if I had to boil it down to a single theme it would be this: “Design matters more than a random density number.” In cities, we often get hung up on dwelling units per acre. We should be thinking about how projects fit in to the fabric of our communities.

In the master plan process, we learned that density was needed to provide housing opportunities for people who wanted to live downtown, we learned that if we wanted mom and pop businesses to survive, we needed a certain amount of density to support those businesses and we learned that density was better than sprawl in terms of the environment.

But the key message was the importance of design and scale…new development needed to be attractive and ideally enhance the charm and character of our downtown.

What I’m describing is a great aspiration.  But it can be hard to achieve because design is subjective.

We came away from the Downtown Master Plan process unified—at least among the few hundred who showed up to participate. But when you have 65,000 people, a few hundred, while good, is not enough to sustain an effort to shape your downtown. So, we worked hard to promote the plan, to educate the public on why density– done well– was important for our community.

And for a while we succeeded.

The city won all the lawsuits relating to Worthing Place and the project got built. It was supposed to be the first mixed-use housing project downtown, but the litigation delayed things and it ended up being among the last to be built.

Many other projects— not nearly as tall and certainly not as dense— were built. There has been a massive amount of public and private investment. And it has paid off.

Downtown Delray has become a regional attraction, with over 100 restaurants, tens of thousands of weekly visitors and a very low vacancy rate.

But success comes with challenges.

Rents have increased from $5-$7 a square foot when I moved here in 1987 to as high as $165 a square foot for prime restaurant space. It’s difficult for mom-and-pop businesses to pay the rent.

When you experience success, it’s not uncommon to want to try and ratchet things back.

So, after I was termed out, a subsequent commission lowered the height limit to 54 feet, 35 feet on the avenue itself, and capped density at 30 units to the acre in most of downtown Delray. There are a few places in town where you can exceed that amount, but by and large density has been capped.

You don’t tend to cap things that you view as virtuous. If density was popular, it would be encouraged not capped. Besides, our language has changed—instead of encouraging density in strategic places to achieve civic goals, we are warning developers about density.

After spending a lot of time, money and effort trying to sell the virtues of density and great design—we stopped engaging residents on these topics and now every election cycle is about the evils of growth and development. We no longer talk about smart growth or good development; we only seem to talk about traffic and whether we have lost our charm.

Density has become a dirty word in a town that used it as a tool to become a national model for how to revitalize a downtown.

Now, I understand the sensitivities…I understand the frustration caused by congestion, even though we experience more traffic driving on multi-lane suburban streets than when we drive downtown where we can use our grid system to get around efficiently.

I am immensely proud of my city and what we were able to accomplish. But I also understand it is not everyone’s cup of tea. And I understand that change cuts both ways: it can be good, it can be not so good. But all in all, I think Delray did a nice job.

We don’t allow big buildings, especially when compared to our coastal neighbors, which allow heights more than twice as tall as we do.

Efforts have been made to limit massing and maintain the human scale that is our calling card. We narrowed US 1 in our downtown to make it more of a neighborhood and less of a highway. We improved pedestrian safety and we have created a year-round economy in what had once been a seasonal town.

 

But in many ways, even though others think we have done a good job, we are losing the argument.

City planners and new urbanists are often fans of Delray. I’m here, 17 years after being term limited, because ULI views Delray as a positive example.

But as the kids say when talking about relationships—it’s complicated.

When politicians look at our city and see their best chance of being elected as running against what has been achieved downtown because density was used wisely— something has gone awry.

So as Deerfield weighs its next move relative to density, growth and change…I would offer up Delray as a good comp. We are both a success story and a cautionary tale.

We succeeded because we revitalized what had been a declining downtown. The revitalization has stood the test of time—we survived the financial crisis, Covid, competition from other cities and changing tastes. I would argue that density done right—done gently as my friend Juan (Urban designer Juan Mullerat) would say–helps you build wonderful and memorable places.

I commend you for engaging with ULI and inviting the public into this process, much like we did when we crafted our Downtown Master Plan in 2001.

But I would urge you—from experience—to never stop engaging, educating, and learning together as a community. We stopped doing those things somewhere along the way…because after all politicians come and go. But the need to keep dreaming and implementing never goes away. That’s the beauty of cities. You are never done, especially if you get some kind of success. You can’t be complacent. Complacency is a killer.

As a former elected official, I know you can never please everyone. And you can really set your community back by trying. But you can and should take a long-term view and try and move the big rocks.

The best piece of advice I ever got was that elected office is a job to do, not to have.

You need to take some risks to move the needle and make things happen in your city. But you have to bring the community along with you…they have to buy-in and say yes. And they have to keep saying yes. That means a never-ending conversation about the future of your community. That’s the fun part.

I’m a fan of Deerfield Beach, I’m in the Cove for dinner, I love your beach and I used to have an office in town. So, I am rooting for you.

I’ll conclude by telling you what happened with Worthing Place.

It succeeded. It never became the blighted tenement that opponents feared would forever scar our downtown. Instead, it became a catalyst for activity and additional investment.

The restaurants downstairs have become popular spots…the apartments are coveted, and the garage is well-used and a money maker for the city. A few months ago, the company I work for, a family office, bought the building from BlackRock for over $100mm. So, you can see that the project that divided our town has a whole lot of value.

It’s a full circle moment for me and a major investment in our downtown for my company. I’d like to think that density —done well—created an ecosystem that remains an attractive place for people to live, work and play. Thank you for this opportunity and good luck with your wonderful city.

 

 

 

 

 

1 April, 2024 2 2 Comments

Summers Past & Service Honored

April 1, 2024 By 2 Comments

The Dunlop Maxply Fort was a classic of the era. The iconic racquets sell for over $300 online.

Note: We’ve been engaged in a little bit of spring cleaning lately and I’ve finally worked up the will to dive into some boxes that have been stacked in the garage for ages. I’m not a hoarder (well, maybe a little bit), but I do manage to accumulate a lot and until recently I haven’t wanted to go through these “collections” of memorabilia and mementos to see what should be kept and what should be tossed. I can’t say it’s easy throwing away articles I’ve written during my newspaper career or old photos, but it’s gotten easier. After all, nobody is going to want these things and they are taking up space so it’s off to the recycle bin you go. Still, amidst the litter of life, you find some things that you forget about. Here’s an essay I wrote decades ago hoping it would be published in Newsday, the paper of record for Long Island. P.S. I never sent it.

 

“8.09 acres at the southeast corner of Oxhead Road and Pembroke Drive from J-3 Business to D-1 Residential.”

That was the way the day started. One seemingly innocuous sentence, buried in a Newsday round-up of zoning changes.

But the two sentences stung me. The 8.09 acres at the southeast corner of Oxhead Road and Pembroke Drive were the most important acres of my childhood. They were the site of the Stony Brook Swim & Racquet club –the place where I spent six glorious and formative summers.

Somehow, I thought “the pool club” would survive forever. In a way it will, in the memories of hundreds of families who spent precious summers together in an idyllic spot on the north shore of Long Island.

Even though the pool club had been gone for years (the owner converted it into a summer camp), the grounds remained untouched. The club was pretty much the same as it had been during its glory days in the mid-70s. I had seen to that on my infrequent visits home. I always made sure to visit the club, park the car, and reminisce.

Oh, the 13 clay tennis courts were memories once the club closed. But the venerable paddle ball courts, the snack bar, gazebos and concrete kickball court all remained.

I knew every inch of that place—from the “Savodnik” tree named after my best friend’s family who loyally set up camp under it every summer, to the storage sheds deep in the woods where we would take our summer love interests to share that first kiss.

I knew where every family sat. The Mah Jongg players would sit underneath large umbrella’s shuffling tiles for hours and hours interrupted only by our anxious pleas for change so we could raid the snack bar for Charleston Chews and cold drinks.

Then there were the tennis players. They would sit poolside, sporting world class tans except for their feet. Their feet were white as the sand on the finest beaches. The mark of a serious tennis player was white feet. If you had them, it meant you were out on the court polishing your game; too busy to get a total tan. For six years my feet were as white as could be, covered by ankle socks as I wore out my Stan Smith Adidas shoes.

Over at the paddle ball courts were the middle age war horses with names like Murray, Stu and Herman.  They didn’t mess with tennis, preferring instead to duke it out on the paddle ball walls.

Paddle ball was a city game. We were in the burbs, but the tough men with the leathery skin could be found on the paddle ball courts. These guys were my favorites and I loved watching them risk life and limb diving on the hard concrete courts to “kill” a little black ball.

The paddle ball players were early heroes and I dreamt that someday I’d be good enough to compete with them. When that day came, it was much sadder than I thought. The old war horses were good, but we were younger and quicker. Somehow that made me sad.

Tennis was winning the hearts and minds of my little pool club world. It was the “tennis boom” of the 70s and people like Jimmy Connors and Bjorn Borg were bringing the country club game to the masses.

If you grew up on Long Island in those days, you played tennis.

As for me, I threw myself into the game with reckless ambition. I played about every waking hour.

And when I wasn’t at the club, I was out front of my Levitt house pounding the ball mercilessly against the garage door. I would do this until my mother opened the window and begged me to stop. I couldn’t get enough of the game. I woke up early, put my tennis clothes on and waited impatiently for my mom to get ready so we could go to “the club” and I could hit the courts.

Around this time, the pool club changed.

Tennis had its own caste system and status was measured by the type of racquet you used. A Dunlop Maxply and Arthur Ashe Head Competition were paths to instant popularity. These racquets exuded cool. They were, in a word, iconic.

When tennis kicked in, suddenly the four hard courts at the pool club weren’t enough. It was clay courts or bust.

When I look back—as much as I love tennis—the popularity of the sport hastened the death of the club.

The club’s owner decided to add 13 har-tru courts and to allow for separate pool and tennis memberships.

At first, the addition of the soft clay-like courts seemed to uplift the place. We were no longer a distant second to some of the posh country clubs in Setauket and Old Field. The not quite ready for white collar kids from the Levitt homes could match strokes with any blue blood this side of Poquott.

But the incision was made, and the distinction between “family swim club” and big-time tennis was uneasy.

Then it happened.

Suddenly, one summer, we were the oldest kids around. In fact, there were hardly any kids at all. The area was changing, getting older and younger at the same time. Moms were heading back to work, and a different lifestyle was taking root. There were different ways to spend the summer in my hometown.

When the reality hit us—that this would be the last summer at the club—we didn’t mourn.

When you’re 15, you live to move on. You never glance back. It’s only when you’re older that you realize how good you had it and how you wished you had savored it more.

So, we walked the grounds of the pool club that last Labor Day—every inch of the place recounting only that summer.

We did it every Labor Day and this would be no different, even though it would be the last time.

There was no talk of the grizzled paddleball players who left the summer before. Their time had passed, like a soft summer breeze.

Gone too were the pretty girls who used to walk from the pool to the snack bar. They started going to the beach and so we would we in our never-ending effort to find romance.

The Mah Jongg players traded their tiles for jobs, and we all went to the Mall.

I feel fortunate to have spent ages 8-15 at the club. I shared tennis with my dad, and we grew closer. I spent every day in the same place as my mom and my sister and that meant something. Even though we didn’t hang out, I knew they were there. We had a daily destination as a family.

I met three of my closest friends at the club, friends I’ve kept to this day.

And, quite possibly, I fell in love for the first time at the pool club (although the relationship was innocent and lasted a scant few weeks). Puppy love is a better word for it.

I feel sad that families don’t have a destination to go to everyday; a place to be together with other families. I always had a vision of myself staring through a ragged chain link fence, looking in at the club years from now— wife and kids tow— explaining that this was where it all happened. The beginning of an aborted tennis career, my first kiss, my first standoff with a bully. It would be fall, when I looked through the fence. The leaves would cover the faded kickball court. But it would all be there. The gazebo, the snack bar, even the Savodnik tree. All there so I could look back and remember.

Funny, how a zoning change can ruin your day.

 

Thanks for a Job Well Done

Retiring BPOA President Bob Victorin was presented with a beautiful painting by gifted local artist Ernie DeBlasi.

Last week, the Beach Property Owners Association honored outgoing president Bob Victorin for his lengthy and distinguished service to the 55-year-old civic association.

I was honored to say a few words of praise. In Bob’s case it was really easy because he’s terrific.

Here’s a snippet of my remarks. We wish Bob and his lovely wife Jan health and happiness in the years ahead.

“I was fortunate to work with the two Bobs, Mr. Victorin and Bob Sparvero during my tenure on the city commission. They were wonderful people to work with and together we navigated through some tricky terrain: several hurricanes, a comprehensive beach restoration project, design guidelines, a downtown master plan and my personal favorite —the great bike lane debate sparked by the redesign of A1A by the Florida Department of Transportation.

Through every issue, through every controversy, Bob Victorin exhibited remarkable leadership skills.

He was fact-based, kind, respectful and courteous. In a word, Bob Victorin is a gentleman.

That kind of leadership has almost gone out of style these days. But Bob’s style of leadership has been immensely effective. He has been a wonderful advocate for the BPOA, a passionate protector of the barrier island and an invaluable contributor to Delray Beach.

This organization has been remarkably successful because of leaders like Bob Victorin. Over the years, I got to know and work with Betty Matthews, Frank Boyar, Bernie Dahlem, Frank DeVine and Andy Katz.

Like Bob, they were strong leaders and wonderful diplomats. In Frank Devine’s case, he was actually a former Ambassador to El Salvador.

Bob followed in those footsteps and really helped the BPOA flourish in terms of membership and importance.

When residents expressed a desire to have design guidelines, the BPOA took the lead and created a template that was looked at by other neighborhoods in the city.

Bob was a participant in every citizen goal setting session we held while I was on the commission giving his time and energy to make sure we were taking the needs of the barrier island into consideration. He was a voice of reason as we worked with the state to redesign A1A, balancing the needs of businesses, bicyclists, and coastal homeowners.

My colleagues on the commission deeply admired and appreciated Bob. So did city staff. He’s a pleasure to work with and because he’s a pleasure to work with— he’s been incredibly effective.

I’m happy to say we’ve stayed in touch through the years. Elected officials like me, come and go, but Bob stayed on and happily remained a friend. We share a love of music (he once gave me a bunch of CD’s of his favorite songs that I still play)…. we share a love of community and we’ve enjoyed a cocktail or two through the years.

Bob you are a very special man, I also want to acknowledge your lovely wife Jan. As we both know, it would be impossible to spend this kind of time doing community work without the support of our loved ones.

Bob and Jan, Diane and I wish you the very best in the years to come. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.

 

8 January, 2024 0 Comments

A Call To Heal

January 8, 2024 By Leave a Comment

A rendering of the planned Wallach Center at FAU.

We stumbled on an interesting sign during a recent visit to FAU’s Theatre Lab.

The sign announced the future site of “The Kurt and Marilyn Wallach Holocaust and Jewish Studies Building.”

I was intrigued, so I did a little research and learned that the Wallach’s pledged $20 million (with $10 million going to the building) to create an education center dedicated Holocaust Studies, Jewish Studies, human rights, and leadership training.

When looking into the program words like dignity, compassion, human rights, and understanding were peppered throughout the literature.

“This is truly a transformative gift that values the strength of education in combating anti-Semitism as well as hatred and intolerance of any kind,” said Dr. Michael Horswell, Dean of the Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters. “This building will become a living testament and example for thousands of students and community members who pass through its doors.”

Let’s hope so.

As we begin a new year the usual promise of a fresh start is shadowed by an ominous feeling.

Our nation is divided.

Our world is dangerous.

There are conflicts that have the potential to spin out of control. It’s a scary and uncertain time.

When we are faced with these challenges, it seems natural—maybe even logical—to tune them out or try to ignore them. But we can’t.

We just can’t.

We must confront hatred and intolerance. We must step up and defend Democracy, decency, and human rights. Somehow, someway, we must dial down the hate. We have the tools to do so. We just need the will.

There are inspirations and guides everywhere if we open our eyes. People who lead with love and compassion. Organizations that are trying mightily to overcome those who seek to foment hate and divide us.

We must rise above.

Over the holidays, we watched the Kennedy Center Honors which included the great Billy Crystal.

Mr. Crystal was lauded for his comedic chops, his many hit movies and for the longevity of his career. It was great to see scenes from “When Harry Met Sally” (which is the perfect romantic comedy) and “City Slickers” which was a boon to dude ranches everywhere.

But what struck me most was Whoopi Goldberg’s tribute to her friend. She invoked a concept called “tikkun olam”, which is a Hebrew phrase that calls on us to heal and repair the world.

She said Billy Crystal was all about tikkun olam, doing right by people, healing the world in his own way through humor.

My grandparents and parents did not use that term when I was a child. But they encouraged my sister and I to be “mensches.”

A mensch is someone who tries to do the right thing—always.

In a world in need of repair, we need mensches more than ever. I’m hoping the Wallach Center mints mensches.

Here at home, we are heading to yet another election season where voters will be hard pressed to choose amidst the nasty rhetoric and flat out lies about candidates. Lost in the cacophony of mail, social media wars and robocalls are serious discussions about important issues. We don’t debate ideas; we don’t talk about challenges, and we don’t seem to be discussing opportunities either.

What a shame.

Candidates vow to “fight development”, “cut taxes and spending” and find “innovative solutions to traffic.” But we don’t see the details, do we? We never see the details.

You’re going to fight development? Ok, what are you going to do to provide housing? Are workers supposed to magically appear to serve you in restaurants, dress your wounds in the hospital and teach your kids and then just vanish? Don’t they need places to live?

You say you are going to cut taxes and spending? Wonderful! What are you going to cut? Roughly half the budget goes to police and fire, do you want to invest in those critical departments or do you want to lose our best to nearby agencies who are always hiring and always looking for great cops and firefighter/paramedics.

Then there’s traffic.

What are your solutions? More lanes? That doesn’t work.

You’re going to vote to stop that new apartment complex? Great, so our workforce gets to clog our roads driving from elsewhere when they could be living in town close to their jobs.

Everyone one of the challenges I mentioned are real and every one of them can be made better with detailed analysis, strategic decision making and the political will to involve the community and then stick to your guns when the critics fire up their laptops and call you a turd on Facebook. And you can count on that happening.

I know I’ve been rambling a little here…just taking my mind out for a spin. Thanks for bearing with me.

I’ll conclude with something else I saw over the recent break. I opened the sewer they now call “X” and was greeted by some hate-filled hack barking about Kwanzaa. Apparently, this holiday didn’t cut it for this charmer. It wasn’t “real”, it was “offensive” and “fake.”

I feel sorry for this person. I do. She was so unhappy with Kwanzaa that she had to share her venom with the twitterverse.

Like magic, a longtime resident, began posting about Kwanzaa on Facebook. Each day, he explained the principles of Kwanzaa. I had seen them before, but I had forgotten what I had learned. The posts allowed me to revisit the principles and because they were served in daily doses, I was able to think about them and process their meaning.

My favorite was UJIMA (oo – GEE-mah): Collective Work & Responsibility. Here’s how it was explained.

“Collective Work and Responsibility reminds us of our obligation to the past, present, and future, and how that will affect the role we play in the community, society, and world,” he wrote.

“As residents of “The Set.. (a historic neighborhood in Delray) we must make our neighbors’ issues our collective responsibility. By doing this, we can solve our struggles together. Each one, teach one.

To transform into the Beloved Community envisioned by our ancestors, each resident must buy into the principle of “Ujima”. We must care for – our public spaces, children, elders, history, and institutions. The health and welfare of The Set is the responsibility of all residents.

Our personal sense of Beloved Community is the key to successfully transforming our neighborhood. Each resident must love and care for The Set and pass the legacy on to our children. The Set must be recognized as unique and something to be protected.”

Well said.

I like the notion of collective responsibility. I agree we have an obligation to the past, present and future. We are called to heal the world. Let’s get after it.

4 December, 2023 8 8 Comments

The Sky Has Been Falling For 30 Years

December 4, 2023 By 8 Comments

Here’s a picture of a buidling you will never see in Delray.

I took a 5-minute stroll through Facebook recently and saw the following written about our town—Delray Beach.

“So glad I moved away.”

“My wife and I live a few minutes from downtown. We wouldn’t be caught dead there.”

“There is no difference between Delray and Fort Lauderdale.”

There was more—a lot more— but that last gem is my favorite; that’s the one trope that jumps off the screen and disturbs every fiber of my being.

I mean have you been to Fort Lauderdale lately?

Have you seen 100 Las Olas? It’s 46 stories and 499 feet tall.

In the last thirty years, the tallest building built in downtown Delray Beach is 6 stories high, and you can’t even build that anymore.

The downtown height limit has been lowered to 54’ from 60 feet and along Atlantic Avenue the height limit is 35’. There’s a big difference between Delray Beach and Fort Lauderdale.

A big difference.

And because of efforts—(mostly forgotten or flat out ignored) to maintain the city’s scale—we will never be Fort Lauderdale.

Let me repeat that, because you are sure to get a blizzard of campaign mail saying otherwise as we enter election season in Delray Beach.

We.

Will.

Never.

Be.

Fort Lauderdale.

We won’t be Boca Raton or Boynton Bach either—both of those cities allow much taller buildings than Delray does.

I apologize if this is personal for me, but I know the people who devoted their careers to creating something pretty special in Delray Beach. So, while people have a right to their opinions, it stings a little when you see criticism that— to put it plainly—is not rooted in facts.

Again, people are entitled to their opinions and if we are wise, we should listen to all views. But at some point, we have put unreasonable fears to bed. We will never be Fort Lauderdale.

Still, truth be told, our downtown, while vibrant, may no longer be everyone’s cup of tea anymore. Personally, I find the crowds to be a little daunting at times, and the feel is less village like and more Bourbon Street these days. Some people like it, some people don’t.

But that’s a different conversation, isn’t it?

That conversation is not about whether a building is one-story or three, it’s about demographics and changes that some may love, and others may loathe.

But the misleading vitriol gets old. And it’s used to scare people and demonize investors. I think that’s wrong. And it needs to be called out.

It also ignores some pertinent facts: Delray Beach is a good place.

And so, I ask, where is the civic pride?

Where is the acknowledgement that in the 1980s, we were blighted, and crime riddled with families looking to flee to other cities because parts of this place were circling the drain?

Yes, we’ve changed. That’s a given. To my mind, change is of a fact of life: death, taxes, and change. You can count on all three.

That said, I think we’ve done well. We’re a busy town. A vibrant place. As Yogi Berra once said: “nobody goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.”

Indeed.

The sky has been falling for 30 years.

As we embark on yet another campaign season in Delray Beach, you will begin to see and hear a steady drumbeat of misinformation. Much of the noise you’ll hear pertains to the villainization of the development community. The group, which by the way happens to include some of our very best citizens, is a reliable punching bag.

As Yogi also said: “It’s déjà vu all over again.”

To be sure, we ought to care about what gets built here and what it looks and feels like. And trust me a whole lot of smart people have spent a lot of time trying to craft codes to ensure that Delray keeps its human scale.

To wit, we have never granted a waiver or a variance for height, and there is currently no mechanism to increase density beyond 30 units to the acre downtown, unless— and only in some districts—you add workforce housing. Workforce housing is a good thing. We need a place for our workforce to live if we hope to be a real community.

Most places on planet earth do not consider 30 units to the acre overly dense (especially for a downtown) and besides it’s the design that matters. I can show you plenty of low-density projects that won’t win any beauty pageants and a few “high” density projects that look sharp.

Instead, we fight over whether a building should be 3 stories or 4, when we really should be focusing on design and whether the architecture enhances or takes away from the streetscape and the pedestrian experience.

Many don’t like multifamily development, but where are essential workers supposed to live? Isn’t that a better discussion to be having? Also, while we are at it, is it possible that a lot of the traffic we bemoan is the workforce having to drive miles and miles to get to their jobs in our eastern communities because of a lack of affordability?

I live across the street from a large apartment complex called Delray Station.

I’m on Lake Ida Road every day during the morning and the evening rush. I have never seen more than three cars coming out of that development at a given time and I’m looking every day. The truth is that people behave differently these days, some work at home, some work a hybrid schedule, some have odd hours and therefore don’t clog our roads during the traditional rush. Of course, these are all theories, but I can honestly say that I don’t even know those apartments are there. It has had no appreciable effect —one way or the other— on Lake Ida Road. Just my opinion….

It’s also my belief that the big bad developers that we all fear are not all that big or bad.

Like any other profession, there are good developers and there are bad ones. We’ve had some good ones—developers who have done solid work and given back, and we’ve had a few who were strip miners looking to take all the gold out of the ground without giving anything back.

All in all, I think the good ones far outweigh the bad ones.

If you look at philanthropy in our town, you will see developers digging deep to support local nonprofits.

You’ll see others giving their time, which is our most valuable resource. They are not volunteering so they can get a variance, they care about this place. Many of them live here. They are not in business to ruin their hometown.

I see these often vilified and lied about people creating jobs, allowing others to open businesses, and providing much needed housing.

We need more housing not less. For teachers, police officers, firefighters, restaurant workers, etc.

In Palm Beach County, 92,000 non-family households make less than $35,000 a year, according to the Florida Housing Innovations Council; 8,800 of those households are in Delray Beach. In fact, 41 percent of non-family households (individuals, roommates) make under $35,000 per year. Delray is the only city in south or central Palm Beach County where non-family households outnumber families and we have a disproportionate need for both affordable housing and what many call the missing middle; housing that isn’t for low-income people but for working families.

Based on fundamental economics—supply and demand—we can never meet this need unless we increase the supply. And yet…we fight endlessly over height and density.

I find this ironic because there as noted before there is no mechanism to increase either regardless of what your told by some politician seeking your vote by making you fearful that one day you will wake up and Delray will look like Fort Lauderdale.

Waivers and variances exist—for things like sight lines and other stuff that you sometimes need to make infill projects work.

But you can’t build taller or denser than the code allows, period, end of story despite the poop that gets shoveled at us (often anonymously) during our exhausting election season.

So, I think we ought to flip the script.

Let’s remain vigilant about development, let’s keep our human scale, let’s put the screws to developers on design and insist on great architecture but let’s call out the NIMBY’s (Not in My Backyard) types too. The peeps who oppose everything regardless of property rights (we do live in America) and regardless of whether the developer follows local land use rules.

Let’s ask them where our teachers, nurses, children, grandchildren, and young families or middle-income retirees should live.

Let’s call out the “I’m in the boat pull up the ladder” charmers who don’t think about working families or those looking to come back after going away to college or the military. Let’s ask them why the people who serve our community shouldn’t be able to live here.

 

Editor’s note:
We mourn the loss of Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor who passed last week at the age of 93.

Justice O’Connor came to Delray Beach years ago and I had the distinct pleasure of greeting her when she gave a speech at Old School Square.

She was a kind person and as the first female justice, an historic figure in American history. She gave an amazing speech.

What a life. Her service to our nation will be remembered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

30 October, 2023 0 Comments

A Different Florida

October 30, 2023 By Leave a Comment

Same slogan, different valuable proposition.

Florida Trend may be the best statewide business publication around.

I’ve been reading it since I moved here in 1987. The magazine is essential if you want to learn what’s going on in the Sunshine State.

Florida Trend recently celebrated its 65th birthday with a blockbuster issue that was chock full of cool stuff.

Perhaps the most interesting was a look at 1958 when the St. Petersburg based magazine made its debut.

Florida Trend’s editors offered some stats comparing 1958 to today.

Here are a few stunners:

  • In 1958, Florida was the 10th most populous state. It’s third today.
  • The population grew nearly 400 percent from 4.5 million people to a whopping 22.3 million in 2022.
  • Population density grew from 84.2 per square mile to 415. More than a quarter of the state’s population (28 percent) lives in South Florida.
  • The state’s economic output grew from $14 billion to $1.4 trillion.
  • In 1960, the median home price was $11,800 which adjusted for inflation is $122,174 today.
  • Average rent in 1960: $71 which is $669 in 2022 dollars.
  • In 2023, the average rent is $2,448 in the three largest metro markets.

Yikes.

In 1971, when Disney’s Magic Kingdom opened on October 1 admission was $3.50 for adults and $1 for children.

It’s a lot more today.

In fact, I hear it’s more efficient to drive to the Magic Kingdom, park, and throw your life savings over the wall. Sigh.

Yes, there have been a lot of changes.

And so, you can’t help but wonder what the next 65 years will hold.

What will climate change and sea level rise mean for our state?

How high can home prices go? What will rising prices mean for our demographics and our society if the middle class is priced out of Florida? (Maybe they already have been?)

How high can insurance rates soar before we cry uncle? The Wall Street Journal had a stunning story last week about insurance rates in an historic neighborhood in West Palm Beach. One home was quoted $120,000 for an insurance policy—that is not a typo. Modest homes are seeing prices ranging from $10,000 to $40,000 a year. Something has got to give: without being political perhaps we ought to worry less about banning books in Florida and more about how to do something about homeowner’s insurance.

We were told that reforms to reduce lawsuits would lower costs, now we are being told that rates are unlikely to fall. Rising reinsurance costs, inflation and the effects of climate change are keeping prices sky high.

Ugh.

There are other vexing issues that nobody could have predicted 65 years ago.

For instance, will we ever figure out how to navigate our ever-polarized politics?

It’s hard to predict, but it’s fun to speculate.

One thing is certain: change. Change, like death and taxes, is inevitable.

We didn’t see  a worldwide pandemic coming and the amazing changes left in Covid’s wake.

Who could have predicted that remote or hybrid work schedules would remake cities? And doesn’t it seem like the impacts of climate change are coming faster than we thought? Or is it that we just keep ignoring the science?

Regardless, it’s fun to look back and fun to look forward. It’s also imperative that we enjoy today and try our best to impact tomorrow.

One thing is for sure, when I moved here 36 years ago I and 1,000 newcomers a day saw Florida as an affordable paradise. That is no longer the case.

Odds and Ends

A shout out to the great Nancy Chanin on her nomination as “Woman Volunteer of the Year” for her work with the equally terrific EJS Project in Delray Beach.

The award is offered by the Junior League of Boca Raton and the winner will be announced at the 36th Annual Woman Volunteer of the Year luncheon Nov. 10 at The Boca Raton.

The list of nominees is impressive. But Nancy is so deserving. She’s kind, hardworking, and does so much for so many. Soo glad she’s up for this honor.

 

Happy Retirement D

I was under the weather last week and missed retirement ceremonies for my friend Delores Rangel. It broke my heart because I adore Delores and her family and I really wanted to be there and celebrate.

Delores served with distinction as the Senior Administrative Executive Assistant to the Mayor and City Commission for a long, long time. That’s a fancy title.  I kept it simple. I thought of  her as my boss. You put D in charge and she made sure you were OK.

Delores kept your schedule, manned the phones, took the messages, made sure you were where you needed to be and generally took care of everything a busy elected official could ever need. And she did it well, with a smile, a sense of calm in the midst of chaos and a sense of humor that was needed and appreciated.

I sent Delores a message and I was told that the City Manager read it at the ceremony. I’m glad. Here’s a brief summary of what I sent.

“You made my time on the Commission and as mayor so enjoyable. You always had my back and kept me organized during some very interesting times (hurricanes, the Jerrod Miller shooting, and all those late night meetings dealing with the controversies of the day).

It breaks my heart that I can’t say this in person. But please know you were amazing to work with, always supportive, organized and level headed. It was so appreciated. I know David Schmidt and other mayors and commissioners felt the same way.

I’m so glad that I got to know your family. They are wonderful.

I hope you have many years of happiness and health ahead of you.

You’ve done so much for our city. Those of us who know, know. Thank you my friend for everything. With love and appreciation, Jeff & Diane.”

 

 

 

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