24 November, 2025 4 4 Comments

Thankful…

November 24, 2025 By 4 Comments

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

I know I’m not alone in that regard. Many people love Thanksgiving.

It’s not the turkey (which I can take or leave) or the stuffing (which is always delicious) it’s the sentiment; being thankful is the key to happiness.

Truth be told, this has been a tough year.

If you know, you know. No need to list the many horrors playing out across our world.

We owe the holiday to President Lincoln, who in 1863, declared a day of thanks at a difficult time in American history. I find President Lincoln to be remarkable. He can still teach us lessons if we choose to listen. But while Lincoln was a singular figure in American history, the story of Thanksgiving cannot be faithfully told without talking about Sarah Josepha Hale, who spent decades campaigning to make Thanksgiving a national holiday; proof that every accomplishment often has multiple authors. That Lincoln proclaimed a day of thanks in the midst of a Civil War is a lesson that the best leaders seek to unite us, not divide us.

Here at home, we’ve lost many amazing civic leaders in 2025. Their accomplishments were awe inspiring, but I knew them as friends as well. And I miss them. I really miss them.

Still, while the losses we suffer are painful, I find myself thankful for having had these people in my life.

I spoke with a friend who recently lost a parent, and we talked about the void that loss creates in your life. Life most certainly moves on, but for those of us who lose loved ones, which is all of us at some point, the world is never quite the same.

We heal, but never fully.

For me, each loss reminds me to appreciate those we love who are still here.

I’m thankful that my father is still front and center in my family’s life.

He’s been given the gift of longevity and good health. We are thankful for that and for his life partner who looks out for him and has provided my dad with happiness and companionship.

I’m thankful for the community servants I get to work with as we build a philanthropy that will be here in perpetuity. What a unique and wonderful opportunity. We are reminded that a lot of good can come from hard work, freedom and generosity.

I’m thankful for the meaningful conversations I get to have with great minds.

Recently, I had lunch with Kevin Ross, president of Lynn University. I’ve admired Kevin for years. He’s an extraordinary leader. And he’s been tested in ways that nobody could have foreseen.

But with each crisis, I’ve seen him and his outstanding team rise to the occasion and find innovative ways to not only survive but thrive.

Lynn University is a special place. I’m thankful to be a trustee and see the university become a national pacesetter in higher education.

This year, I’ve met several times with the dedicated team at Stet News who are finding a way to cover local news in an environment where the business model for journalism has been completely upended. That’s a euphemism for destroyed.

I’m thankful for the good people at Stet. There’s so much happening in Palm Beach County. We need reliable coverage to understand all the moving parts. A free press is essential to Democracy (big D) and to a community. We need to find a way to support news gathering.

Speaking of great journalists, my friend Michael Williams, retired WPTV News Anchor and veteran political reporter Brian Crowley have created a terrific podcast “Top of Mind Florida “which gives me a half hour plus of learning every week. I’m grateful for their intelligence and perspective. I urge you to check it out.

Speaking of local podcasts do not miss “Culture Under Fire” featuring the President of the Arts Garage Marjorie Waldo and “Create for No Reason” starring the multi-talented Kate Volman. It is important for voices in the community to defend and celebrate the arts and the artists in our world. Art is what clarifies and helps us see. Art unites and builds community. We need culture now more than ever.

This year, I had the privilege of sharing notes with great philanthropists near and far. I get to pick their brains and listen to their “theories of change” which inform my work and understanding of the world.

For me, there’s nothing more exciting than to meet with people like Patrick McNamara and Carrie Browne of Palm Health Foundation, Raphael Clemente of Palm Beach Venture Philanthropy and funders networks in Broward and Palm Beach counties. These people are hard at work thinking about the future of our community. Thankfully, we are in good hands.

This year, as many of you know, I indulged a new passion: playwriting.

I’ve turned my inability to sleep well into a productive creative process. So, at 3 am, instead of staring at the ceiling I write stories.

I don’t recommend my hours, but I do recommend finding a creative outlet. I’m grateful for the creative community I’ve found and the local institutions who gave me a shot. Here’s looking at you Arts Garage and Delray Playhouse.

Please support live performance, it’s one of the last activities we do together; in community, with each other, without a screen.

It’s worth saving.

So much of our daily experience is worth savoring.

Florida is a vexing place in many ways. But when I step outside and feel a cool November breeze, I’m reminded that we are fortunate to live here. Yes, the tropics are menacing, the insurance costs high and the humidity can be stifling but…the winters are sublime. Be thankful.

Have a wonderful, safe and happy Thanksgiving. Thanks for reading.

8 September, 2025 7 7 Comments

A Wonderful & Meaningful Life

September 8, 2025 By 7 Comments

Our beloved friend Tony in front of Crossroads.

Tony Allerton was a bright light.

And that bright light will continue to burn bright. Of that I am certain.

At his essence, Tony was a man who exuded optimism, love, empathy and care. In a world that often exhibits the opposite of those words, Tony stood tall and stood out. He was someone you could always count on to find a way forward, a way toward a better future. A path toward grace.

My friend Tony passed last week. He was a few days shy of 97. That’s a good run for most folks, but for people like Tony it wasn’t enough time. He leaves a void in a whole lot of lives, but he also leaves a legacy of hope, compassion, understanding and belief in others that will last for generations to come.

If that sounds like an exaggeration, you don’t know my friend Tony and the impact he’s had on countless lives.

He was a beacon to those in recovery, those looking to put their lives on a better path. He understood their struggle, because it was his struggle as well. And he served as a model for what’s possible for those looking to live a life of sobriety and dignity.

The word recovery carries a heavy weight in Delray Beach.

Over the years, we have seen both compassion for those in recovery and we’ve seen intolerance and fear as well.

We’ve been known as a welcoming community and we’ve seen words like “cancer” used to describe those who come here to recover.

Through it all, Tony stood strong. Tony never wavered, never stopped caring and never gave in to anger or despair. He was a beacon. A man who exhibited nothing but love, kindness and understanding.

He was a rare breed. I can’t think of anyone who has done more for his community.

And Tony’s community is our community. It’s all of us. He stood for all of us.

Every family has a story. We’ve all been touched by addiction.

Some of the very best people I’ve ever met in this town came here to recover. Many stayed and built lives here. They’ve been incredible contributors.

They have been invaluable.

Tony’s civic resume alone is breathtaking: he led the Delray Beach Playhouse, Delray Beach Rotary Club and the Lake Ida Property Owners Association.

For decades, Tony has quietly but persistently been an advocate for those seeking sobriety.

I have known Tony for close to 40 years. When I came to town, his iconic Crossroads Club was operating in what is now Pineapple Grove.

Sometime after I got elected to the City Commission in 2000, Tony came to see me at City Hall.

He wanted to relocate Crossroads to an out of the way (yet convenient) location on Lake Ida Road.

He told me that he didn’t want to Crossroads to be in the path of  the progress happening downtown and that Crossroads needed more parking and a place to grow and thrive.

I thought that showed great foresight.

I remember the conversation very clearly.

I was with our Planning Director at the time Paul Dorling and Tony looked at us and with a smile said: “When we shut the lights downtown we need to be turning them on in the new building.”

Tony reminded us that Crossroads served as a lifesaver for people and he didn’t want anyone to miss a meeting. Hundreds and hundreds of people go to Crossroads on a daily basis and rely on the program for their well being.

Paul and I looked at each other and agreed.

“Ok,” we said.

Tony leaned forward with a serious look.

“ When we shut the lights off downtown we need to be turning them on in the new building.”

Then he smiled, that magnetic smile.

We got the message. And so that’s exactly what happened.

Tony and I remained in touch over the years. We would meet for lunch at Granger’s periodically to discuss Crossroads, happenings around town and the like.

Every one of our lunches proved meaningful, for me. Tony was a teacher. He was a champion for people and he was very open about his story and the importance of his work.

If he was ever hurt by some of the periods of vitriol over recovery he didn’t really share it, at least with me. It wasn’t about him, it was about others striving to recover.

I deeply admired his courage, sense of humor  and dedication.

We are taught that people are replaceable. And indeed the show must go on as they say. But I’m here to testify that there will be nobody quite like Tony.

You can’t go to the shelf and pluck out another leader to fill the void he leaves.

But being the optimist I’m struggling to be, I believe that people like Tony live on. His care for others and his legacy cannot be forgotten and will continue to pay dividends. There are scores of people doing good things in this world because of Tony’s heart and dedication. These ripples of good endure and grow.

Thanks to my friend Steve English, I had what ended up to be a last lunch with Tony recently.

I wrote about it here.

Here’s the link. https://yourdelrayboca.com/my-lunch-with-tony/

To Tony’s family and many friends I’m so sorry for your loss. What a blessing he was. Tony will always be a part of us.

Tony was a bright light.

And that bright light will continue to burn bright. Of that I am certain.

 

16 May, 2025 6 6 Comments

Granger’s Was A Great, Good Place

May 16, 2025 By 6 Comments

Granger’s Grille.

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

 

I’m going to miss Granger’s.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They are important civic assets.

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

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

A third place accepts people from all walks of life.

Conversation is the focus.

They are accessible and accommodating.

There are regulars who hang out.

They tend to be low profile.

They are playful, fun and casual.

They are “a home away from home.”

Granger’s ticked most if not all those boxes.

Sadly, third places are declining.

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

Delray Beach has lost a true friend.

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

We loved her.

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

It’s because she was genuine.

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She led by example, and she set an example.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the dream, I was dodging the bricks.

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

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

The days go by like flying bricks

Leave gaping holes too deep to fix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

5 May, 2025 4 4 Comments

A True Friend

May 5, 2025 By 4 Comments

Nancy Stewart-Franczak

I really didn’t mean for this blog to turn into an obituary column.

But this year has been especially difficult. We have lost a great many people who made Delray Beach special.

On Monday, April 28, I received a message that my friend of many years Nancy Stewart-Franczak passed away. Nancy was a wonderful person—hard working, sincere, funny, down to earth, loving and tough as they come. She fought hard and I never once saw her lose faith.

I’ve known Nancy for more years than I can recall. We ran in the same circles, had lots of mutual friends and grew close over the years. When I turned 60 last August, I asked Nancy and her friend and colleague Jennifer Costello to plan a celebration.

We are growing older, and I wanted more than anything else a chance to get everyone together again. We don’t do that as much as we should. The loss we have experienced recently reminds me why we should prioritize the important relationships in our lives.

Nancy and Jen went above and beyond for me. We spent hours at my house talking about guest lists and activities, music, decorations, menus and all sorts of stuff. We laughed. A lot.

Nancy gave me the party of a lifetime—she and Jen are great at what they do –but in my case I felt their professionalism was infused with love. I’m grateful for that love.

I know Nancy was thankful for the special relationships in her life. She had a wonderful smile. She was an interesting combination of warmth and strength. Nancy exuded strength. I never saw her waver. Not once.

Nancy and I spoke a lot over the years about Delray Beach. We shared a love for the town and the people who rolled up their sleeves and made it a special place.

The good things that make cities sing don’t happen by accident. Community building requires people to dig deep, work hard, take risks and will good things into existence. Nancy was one of the people who did just that—for decades.

She was a civic entrepreneur, and her canvas was the special event space. She believed in the power of events to make a positive difference in the lifeblood of a community. She was involved in every detail of her events which was made them so great. Her passion for her work and her team and her city made Nancy a one-of-a-kind contributor.

She took pride in Delray’s progress and reveled in the camaraderie and comfort she found in this large circle of extraordinary people—people who came together to build a sense of community and to shape a place into a home.

When I was an elected official, Nancy invited Diane and I to go to Gilroy, California to visit something called a Garlic Festival. Nancy had dreams and wanted to show us what a festival could do for a community. We made the trip, and I was blown away by the crowds and the amount of money that was raised for small nonprofits in Gilroy.

I saw Nancy’s vision and was proud to support it. She grew the Garlic Festival into a major event, with chefs, competitions, concerts, rides for the kids and best of all fundraising opportunities for small groups doing great work in our city.

A few years later, I was disappointed when a few folks on the commission turned on the Garlic Festival forcing it to relocate to Lake Worth. During this time, I did my best to support Nancy as a friend. We had many long conversations where I just listened. She was hurt but determined. A lesser person would have given up, but that’s Nancy. She took her talents to other cities with Garlic Festival and other events such as Lagoon Fest and Bacon & Bourbon. Those communities benefitted from Nancy’s leadership, vision and the execution of her team the Festival Management Group.

During this trying time Nancy never stopped dreaming of doing events for her beloved Delray Beach.

She was tested, but she never gave up. We saw our friend’s motives questioned by people who should have known better. From watching Nancy and her team, I can attest that running an event organization is not a get rich quick scheme, it’s a labor of love, full of risk. It requires hot and sweaty work, worries about weather, insurance, competition and any number of things that can go wrong in what has become a world fraught with weirdness and danger.

Nancy and her team at Festival Management Group produced Garlic Festival, Delray Affair, Bacon and Bourbon, Lagoon Fest and other special events because they loved this community and wanted to give families a fun and safe place to be. They also wanted to showcase exhibitors and artists and help community groups raise the funds they need.

Nancy and her husband John and their team hung in there…and I was told right after Nancy passed by her partner and friend Bern that they had been working on bringing Garlic Fest back to Delray after a 9-year absence. They felt good about their meeting with Mayor Tom Carney. Nancy knew this was coming about and I’m sure she was happy.

I enjoyed every moment I spent over the years with Nancy. I loved visiting her home, our dogs got to know each other, and I enjoyed getting to know her husband as well.

Nancy helped to put modern day Delray Beach on the map. She did so without fanfare, and she worked hard to make her events meaningful, safe and fun.

She longed to do a “Delray reunion” event and I wanted to do it with her and a few others. Sadly, we couldn’t make it happen because life, illness, jobs and obligations got in the way.

Nancy wanted to bring everyone from the All America City era together—the first award was won in 1993. She wanted to celebrate others who made a mark but maybe weren’t thanked sufficiently for doing so. She was thinking of others and of Delray Beach—as always.

Of course Nancy was a major contributor as well. She did an awful lot. Events in Pineapple Grove. Concerts with big names. Wine and seafood events that featured local chefs…the list goes on and on.

She was a good person. A really good person.

And I loved her. We all did.

She left a mark. She worked so hard. She was strong, so strong.

Nancy will be missed by all lucky enough to have known her.

 

 

 

 

25 March, 2024 1 Comment

For Jimmy

March 25, 2024 By 1 Comment

James Steinhauser was a beloved friend and colleague.

I lost a friend last week and it hurts.

Jim Steinhauser was a month shy of his 89th birthday when he passed March 21 at Bethesda Hospital. We worked together off and on for more than a dozen years, brought together by the master of team building: Carl DeSantis.

We lost Carl in August.

Mr. DeSantis was a legendary entrepreneur and the magical person behind the success of two-multibillion-dollar businesses—Rexall Sundown and Celsius.

Jimmy was at Carl’s side for a big part of the ride. Both figuratively and literally.

 

Technically, Jimmy was Carl’s driver and all-around helper. But he was much more. Confidant, partner in adventures, researcher, social director, personal shopper, buddy.

Jimmy was front and center in every important meeting and was introduced often as a marketing executive.

He was consulted on everything, which was the Carl way. Mr. D was an inclusive leader and Jimmy was an eager participant and valued contributor.

 

Carl and Jimmy wandered the Delray/ Boca byways scouting out properties and hunting for opportunities. Those opportunities ran the gamut: billboard locations to promote Celsius and Tabanero Hot Sauce, where to buy comfortable shoes and, of course, the latest nutritional supplements.

Those two were something to behold; one minute they were saying how much they loved each other and the next they were bickering like an old couple. We thought they were endlessly entertaining because they were funny and underneath it all was loyalty, friendship, love, and affection. They were a pair.

 

In the evenings, Jimmy and Carl would visit their favorite restaurants where they would hold court, trade ideas, tell stories and plan the rest of their week. They were incredibly generous to wait staff and they knew everyone.

I loved being a fly on the wall for scores of these meetings. We laughed, arm wrestled and traded ideas and stories. We dreamed. Together.

 

We also took some trips: Vegas, New York City, and an arduous Poseidon like boat trip to the Bahamas.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas as they say.

As for that Bahamian voyage, let’s just say there were lots of prayers and texts to loved ones back home as we navigated waves that grow with every telling. We even dodged a plane and some crazy weather on our flight back home. As soon as we landed, the plane broke down. You can’t make it up.

 

Through it all, Jimmy was a constant.

Always there. Always reliable. Always quick with a joke and always able to share something with you that he just learned.

Now he’s gone. And the world feels a little different, a little emptier without him. That’s how it goes when you lose a friend.

 

I will note that Jimmy and I were opposites politically and we have different religions.

I mention that not because it was important to us (it wasn’t) but because we live in a time where people are being sorted and divided.

You stay with your kind, and I’ll stay with mine. You are supposed to fear me, and I’m told to fear you.

But none of that mattered with Jimmy. What we had in common and what we liked about each other was paramount.

 

We shared a love of America. We shared a love of New York.

He was from The Bronx like my parents were. He got a kick out of that connection.

We talked about sports, history and yes religion. He loved golf, listening to services on the radio and was proud of his Hyundai Genesis.

 

When Carl passed away seven months ago, Jimmy seemed lost.

He retired, but still came by the office in downtown Delray for brief but oh so sweet visits.

 

When we threw a retirement party for Jim and a beloved colleague he didn’t show. He wasn’t feeling well. We all worried about him.

 

When we visited him last week at Bethesda to say goodbye, he was wearing a BiPap mask. I recognized it immediately. It’s the same uncomfortable device I wore almost four years ago during my Covid battle. He was tired because it was hard to breathe, and that device is so darn hard to wear. Like putting a hurricane on your face. A hurricane that digs into your cheeks, ears, and the bridge of your nose. I could tell he didn’t like it.

 

But he lit up when he saw my two companions, wonderful women he worked with for over 20 years.

Jimmy loved these women. And they loved him back. This was the group that brought the word “family” to life in Carl’s family office. They looked out for each other. They are more than co-workers, they are family.

 

Carl was the catalyst who made this magic happen. We were blessed that he put us together. But nothing lasts forever. That’s a hard lesson to learn. But the finite nature of life makes its impermanence precious. We must strive to savor the moments.

We can always count on change. Death and taxes too.

But death does not end a relationship. The memories and the love endure.

 

Jimmy loved his CDS family, and we sure loved him.

As I write this, my mind is flooded with stories about this special man who was a constant for years—until today.

People get old, the song says.

People get old.

Love them while you can.

And if you have a chance to say goodbye make sure you do.

We told Jimmy that we loved him while we held his hand and looked into his eyes. We thanked him for his life, for his care and for the laughs. We told him that he was a good man who lived a good life.

And with one last squeeze of his hand, we left the room with faith that we will see him again.

 

Thanks Christina

The weekend also brought news that a Delray Beach staple, Christina’s in Pineapple Grove will be closing.

I’ve been a customer of Christina Betters for decades…back to the Gleason Street Cafe Days. She runs a great restaurant and Christina’s became a go-to place for countless breakfast meetings.  I miss her hospitality and her dog Vinny too.

We are watching a series called “The Bear” which is an inside look at restaurant life. I’m told by people in the business that the show is very realistic. Running a restaurant and having longevity in that industry is truly a remarkable feat. So we wish Christina the best and we wish her some rest as well.

Thank you for years of wonderful hospitality.

Here’s what Christina put on Facebook.

“As I close my doors for the final time, I want to express my deepest gratitude to all of my loyal customers who have supported me throughout the years.

I will cherish the memories I have made and the friendships that have blossomed over the years.
I have enjoyed watching your children and their children coming to eat over the years.
All your dogs have brought happiness to me and other patrons.
Our time together may be coming to an end, the love and appreciation I have for each and every one of you will for ever remain in my heart.
Thank you so much for being a part of our story and making it a memorable one.
Love always and forever Christina and Vinny.”
25 September, 2023 8 8 Comments

Remembering

September 25, 2023 By 8 Comments

Bones get tired

I woke up early this morning.

As is my Monday ritual, I grab my phone and open up Spotify.
Music helps me wake up and collect my thoughts.
Every Monday, this app is kind enough to give me a playlist called “Discover Weekly” and so I do. I discover new songs and rediscover some old ones too. I have to say, the algorithm gets me.
It has been a little over a month since I lost a mentor and friend and I still feel a little lost. More than a little lost.
When you lose someone fundamental to your life it can be hard to turn the page. But turn it we must. We must go on.
I know that intellectually; emotionally well that’s a whole other story.
Give it time, I tell myself. It’s still fresh I tell myself.
Today, is also Yom Kippur, the day of atonement. The holiest day on the Jewish calendar.
And so I’ll be spending my day reflecting, atoning for my sins and praying that my loved ones are in the book of life.
When I was a kid, I dreaded this day which was spent in a Long Island synagogue listening to prayers in a language I didn’t understand.
Inevitably, it was always a beautiful day, Indian summer we called it back then. I’m not sure that term is politically correct anymore but that’s what we called it.
It was a day off from school and my friends who weren’t Jewish were outside and in my mind’s eye having the best day ever while I chafed in a suit and tie waiting for services to end.
But these days, while far from observant, I appreciate the meaning, beauty and importance of ritual, observance and forgiveness.
And I miss my friend who was not in the “book of life.”
So when I began my day by turning on Spotify in the darkness of my room alone with my thoughts I “discovered” the song “Remembering” by Ashley Campbell. Ashley is Glen Campbell’s talented daughter.
We lost Glen a few years back to the scourge that is Alzheimer’s disease.
That damn disease is so cruel. That damn disease…it steals everything.
The song tells the story of a little girl seeking her father’s protection during a storm and the dad reassuring her that all is well and that she should enjoy the show. And she does.
He teaches her guitar and she plays him “Blackbird” and even though she misses notes he tells her it’s the best version he’s ever heard. And you know he’s telling the truth.
But bones get old. And the song mentions how the man who sings like an angel is slipping away.
“Bones get tired, and they can’t carry all the weightWe can talk until you can’t even remember my nameDaddy, don’t you worry, I’ll do the rememberingDaddy, don’t you worry, I’ll do the remembering.”
Yes, we will do the remembering and the grieving too.
I tried to end this little essay with something upbeat, something hopeful. That’s my nature.
But this morning I’m at a loss. I’ve had a loss and I just want to feel it because it’s real. And something is telling me I just need to sit with this for awhile.
May we all be in the book of life.
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.

 

 

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.

 

3 October, 2022 15 15 Comments

All There Is….

October 3, 2022 By 15 Comments

A blessing in my life for 34 years.

My sister Sharon and I lost our mother 24 years ago today.

Twenty-four years is not a landmark anniversary. There’s nothing special about 24 years, other than it feels like a lifetime ago. So much has changed.

My mom’s name was Fay. If you Google her, nothing comes up. Google was founded September 4, 1998, almost exactly a month before she died. But even if she lived, it’s doubtful she would have done something that would have made her “internet worthy”. She lived a simple life. A good life.

Sometimes I feel people like my mom get lost. But they lived. And they matter. In my world, and the world of my family, nobody mattered more. She was indispensable.

And then she was gone.

Even now, the permanence stabs at me.

So much has changed.

My mom’s granddaughter Samantha is well into her career as a special education teacher and her two little grandsons will both turn 30 soon. They were little kids when they lost their grandmother. She’s a faint memory for them and that alone is enough to break your heart.

The years pile on, the world moves so fast.

A friend of mine lost a beloved sibling a few years back. She recently marked another year of loss and said that while the lump in her throat is gone, she still grieves— quietly.

I do too.

I think grief is the love you have inside that goes unexpressed. Your loved one is gone but your heart is still full. What do you with all this unexpressed love?

Our mother was 59 years old when she passed away after a brave and brutal 50-week battle with cancer.

I just turned 58. I am deeply aware that I am approaching her lifespan and it’s on my mind.

The age we lost her was front and center in my thoughts during my near fatal bout with Covid in July-August 2020. During my darkest moments—and there were many—I couldn’t help but think: ‘I will be younger than my mom when she passed, and she was so young’. She missed so much.

Happy times, stone washed jeans and Long Island nights.

Lately, I have been dreaming of her. Those dreams come and go. While I think about her every day, I sometimes won’t dream about her for months at a time.

But these days, she’s a frequent presence in my dreams and a recurring one has me sitting in a park trying to explain to her what’s happened to everyone since we said goodbye at Hospice by The Sea in Boca Raton.

Her granddaughter is a devoted teacher. She loves her students, and they love her back. I revel in the stories she tells me about a child who makes progress, overcomes an issue, gains confidence, reaches a goal etc. I couldn’t be prouder.

Her grandson Ben…who was a wild child… “all boy” as they say, grew up to be an accountant. We didn’t see that coming.

Back when my mom was around, we were happy if we returned from the mall without losing him. You’d turn around and he’d be gone. But these days, he’s mature, smart and thoughtful. An old soul. Her other grandson, Andrew, is a Ph.D., candidate in Washington D.C. researching the Holocaust on his way to becoming a professor. He’s a wonderful writer and a traveler too. We didn’t see that coming either.

Had she lived, mom would have added two more grandsons to her brood; my stepsons Alex and Viktor, fine young men who would have enriched her life immeasurably.

My mom never met the love of my life, Diane. She didn’t get to see my dad age gracefully. At 84, he still turns heads and remains my go-to guy for life advice.

So much has changed.

Never miss a chance to dance.

America is a different place. I wish I could say that we are a better, closer country but I can’t.

Delray Beach and South Florida have also changed. Some of the changes are good, some are not so good.

None of it would have mattered much to my mother. She liked it here.

She was happy enjoying the simple things in life with family and friends. If family was around, she was cool. What a great example she was, if only I could follow her lead. If only…

So here we are mom…24 years down the road, 24 years without you.

We are doing well, blessed in so many ways. But there’s still that ache, there are still waves of grief that engulf me. The waves hit when I see Sam smile and see your smile in hers. When I talk to my sister and realize that she has your exact voice and so many of your best qualities.

I now realize that grief is the price we pay for love. And we should be grateful for both because you can’t have one without the other. If you are going to love, you are going to feel loss someday.  It’s a price worth paying. It’s taken me a lifetime to understand that. A lifetime to accept that trade.

For years after losing you, my sadness lurked in the bushes like a stalker. I could be having the best time only to be reminded of your absence and I’d find myself overcome with sadness. When the rainy days would come, as they do for everyone, I’d find myself wishing to be transported back to the days when everyone I loved was still here.

There you are with your friends playing Mah Jongg at the pool club, with grandma and grandpa and nanny speaking Yiddish and sneaking us chocolate kisses. Life seemed infinite. There was so much road ahead of us.

Those days are long gone. The losses pile up, like so many leaves.

But loss serves a purpose as well. The losses make us appreciate the here and now which is really good if we strip away the noise and distractions.

And we realize we carry pieces of those we lost in our hearts and minds—for all of our days.

So much has changed, but that never will. The love we feel endures.

3 May, 2021 15 15 Comments

20 Years Down The Road….

May 3, 2021 By 15 Comments

The 2001 Delray Beach All America City contingent. A quilt entitled “A Patchwork of Pride” accompanied the group which was ably led by Joe Gillie.

It’s been 20 years since Delray Beach won its second All America City Award in 2001.

It was a big deal back then.

More than 100 people made the trip from Delray Beach to Atlanta to attend a three day competition which included presentations from 30 really cool cities from across the country.

I was reminded of that magical time last week when we sat down to watch a new documentary on HBO entitled “Our Towns”—which is based on the wonderful book by James and Deborah Fallows who crisscrossed America in a small plane to learn and then share the stories of cities that rarely if ever make the news.

It’s a heartwarming documentary at a time when we need a reminder that there are places in this world and in this country that are working. There are still communities that share, care and dare to do big things—or little things together.

If you watch the documentary or read the book, you’ll want to visit Eastport, Maine, Redlands, California, Bend, Oregon and Charleston, West Virginia.

Five years ago, the Fallows who are accomplished journalists, put a call out to their readers: tell us about your towns. The responses poured in.

The writers had a hunch that beneath the headlines of division and strife that somewhere in America things were working, problems were being solved, opportunities were being created and hope was being rewarded. They were right.

They learned that developing a sense of community and a common language of change can help people and towns find a different path to a better future.

Along the way, we meet people tackling racial division, homelessness, polarization and economic despair by employing a can-do collaborative spirit.

And I thought, these are the traits celebrated by the All America City Award.

Over the years, the award itself has changed and is now focused on education. But back in 1993, when Delray won its first award and 20 years ago when it won its second before becoming the first city to win three awards with another win in 2017, the All America City Award took a broader look; education was still a component, but so was how communities worked to enhance their youth and senior populations among other topics.

In 2001, Delray Beach won the award by spotlighting three programs.

The Youth Enrichment Vocational Program provided high-risk youth between the ages of 14 and 23 with opportunities to learn job skills. The program was founded by Officer Johnny Pun and Community Service Officer Fred Glass. It was a bold and ambitious effort that led to the Delray Beach Police Department becoming the first PD in Florida to charter a school.

Community Neighbors Helping helped minority senior citizens living in one of the city’s poorest areas to improve their health, receive services and meet people outside their established environment. Finally, the city, in conjunction with the school district and community, had developed The Village Academy, a public school regulated by members of the community instead of a school board. The vision was to address the needs of at-risk elementary students living in low-income neighborhoods. This too was a bold and ambitious vision and was spearheaded by a community planning process known as the Southwest Plan.

Today, a mere 20 years later, only The Village Academy remains.

The charter school had a nice run before finally closing its doors. Johnny Pun, the energetic young officer, who dreamed of teaching kids to fix cars instead of stealing them died tragically in a motorcycle crash. Those who knew and loved Johnny —and if you knew Johnny you loved him— will never forget where they were when they received word of his accident. His bright light went out without warning. Some losses are just incalculable. I remember hearing the news and being unable to catch my breath. How can someone so alive be gone from us and his family forever? His loss leveled so many.

I’m not sure what happened with Community Neighbors Helping or its founder Edith Thompson, who was a full-time postal worker who spent her off hours tending to her neighbors. I remember Edith going to a local Publix to collect bread which she would give out to people who stopped by the National Church of God on Southwest 13th Street every morning. That initial effort grew to more than 20 local churches and senior centers.

Running a non-profit on a shoe string while working full time and raising three children is almost impossible to fathom.

I searched for Ms. Thompson and found her on Facebook. I’m not sure what happened to Community Neighbors Helping.  The last news story was written 19 years ago. Efforts and people come and go. That’s life I suppose.

The world is a constant whirlwind of change. People and efforts can be lasting or ephemeral, but they all matter.

The stories in “Our Towns” and in Our Town matter too.

We tend to get wound up about the latest project or passing controversy and I get it. Change can be difficult. It’s also a constant.

But these other efforts matter too. They are often lost and forgotten and that’s not good and it’s not healthy.

It can be easy to forget that communities can work.

America is not just talking heads screaming at each other on cable news or blowhard politicians pandering to the base.

Its neighbors taking bread to church so the hungry can have something to eat. Its officers looking at crime stats and saying there’s got to be a better way than just making arrests and throwing away the key.

It’s a community gathering in a A/C deprived church and dreaming of a different kind of school and making it happen.

That’s America. That’s also the real Delray.

So if you ask me what I miss, it’s not necessarily the old-time businesses that sometimes close—that happens. Although, I wish I could have one more breakfast at the counter of Ken and Hazel’s. I also wish I could go inside Boston’s on The Beach and be greeted by my friend Perry just one more time.

What I miss are the special people, the can-do spirit and the community based efforts that made me and so many others fall in love with Delray.

I miss the sense of community and of possibility—the belief that every year would be better than the last. For years and years that’s how it went.

The progress you see today has its roots in those special days. The problems you see today are because we have strayed from the formula that made this place so special.

The ingredients were simple:

Put Delray first.

Take your ego elsewhere.

Don’t be afraid to experiment.

Don’t be afraid to say yes, to seek out new voices and to try. That spirit gave us Old School Square, a revitalized downtown, historic districts, new schools and some cool special events.

Somewhere beneath the vitriol and division, that heart still beats.

It’s the part of our DNA we would be wise to rediscover. Until then, let’s find the magic wherever we can. And let’s separate the signal from the noise—don’t let the naysayers get you down.

I’m reminded of the old song That’s life.

“And as funny as it may seem some people get their kicks

stomping on a dream.  But I don’t let it, let it get me down

Cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin’ around.”

Yes it does. Thank goodness.

 

I wanted to note the loss of two very special people in recent weeks.

Dr. Henrietta Smith passed April 21. She was 98 and extraordinary.
Dr. Smith was an educator, librarian and storyteller. She edited four editions of the Coretta Scott King Award Collection published by the American Library Association. She won the 2011 Coretta Scott King-Virginia Hamilton Award for Lifetime Achievement for her body of work and lasting literary contributions.

She taught at FAU and later became the first Black professor at USF in Tampa. In 2006, at age 84, she accompanied a medical team on a trip down the Amazon River telling stories to the children in the small villages they visited. Like I said, she was something.

She was also the mother of retired Delray Police Officer Robin Smith, who had a fine career in our city.

We’d see Dr. Smith around town over the years at community events and she was always kind, gracious and understated. She will be missed and always remembered. A true legend.

We also lost Ben Ruby on April 25.

Ben was a wonderful man.

 Ben was married to Susan Ruby our terrific former City Attorney. I got to know Ben over the years and he was always great to talk to.

Just a nice man, with a great sense of humor and an unforgettable smile. He and Susan were married for 55 years and set a standard for us all. This was a love affair for the ages and it was great to be a witness to it.

Five years ago, we were blessed to attend a 50th wedding anniversary celebration for Ben and Susan. We were so fortunate to share in a celebration of a special marriage. It takes a lot for the spouse of a public servant to loan their loved ones to the cause of bettering the community. During late night commission meetings I would often look at Susan and think of Ben waiting for her at home.

Ben was a smart man and an accomplished technologist for DHL and the Miami Herald. He was active in the Sunrise Kiwanis Club in Delray Beach and an all-around good guy. He and Susan (whom I adore) are in our prayers.

 

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