Heroes & Grace

Watching the ceremonies marking the 80th anniversary of D-Day was a deeply moving experience.

To see the last members of the Greatest Generation back in Normandy fills your heart with pride and gratitude.

This level of service and sacrifice defies description. Thank goodness for these people. We are a free people because of their heroism.

Over the weekened, I listened to an interview about D-Day with retired four-star Admiral James Stravridis, the former Supreme Allied Commander of NATO.

Adm. Stravridis is a remarkable man and has a unique way of explaining complex global affairs.

But on this day, he talked about why it’s important to thank people who serve.

“Those of us in the military really appreciate when people say, ‘thank you for your service’,” he said. “It’s meaningful. But we should also thank everyone who serves. That includes teachers, police, firefighters, and others who serve the community.”

That’s a simple and reasonable request. But a powerful one too.

I thought about Admiral Stravridis’ words and realized that we don’t often take the time to say thank you to those who serve.

There’s a crisis in law enforcement–an inability to recruit– in large part because people feel police work is a thankless job.

Same with teaching and a whole host of fields ranging from nursing and the fire service to government employees who are often viciously maligned and threatened.

It’s a doom loop and it’s hurtful. Criticism and condemnation–especially if it’s unwarranted and mean-spirited leave lasting scars.

People who go into public service are not seeking to get rich. You simply can’t get rich in these fields. They are searching for something deeper, they want to make a difference, they long to serve, they want to help and therefore they find “riches” in ways that can’t be measured.

But even the biggest hearts have a limit. If the costs outweigh the benefits, people will find other ways to spend their years.

We humans have a need to feel respected. We want to be seen and appreciated. It costs us nothing to do so.

I’ve been blessed to know many public servants. Teachers, police officers, firefighters, veterans, those that work for nonprofits and a range of others folks who serve us in all sorts of ways.

I lived next door to two boys who grew up to be Marines. I saw them go from little guys playing video games in my house to young men willing to die for their country—just like the D-Day veterans. That level of commitment is to be celebrated, venerated, spoken about, and honored.

That celebration, that respect starts right here at home.

When I see officers or firefighters around town—I stop to say thank you and to share my wish that they stay safe. It’s a dangerous world that they inhabit every time they step out the door.

I also think our thanks and appreciation should extend—like Admiral Stravridis suggests—to all who serve.

As such, we have a teachable moment in Delray Beach right now.

I don’t watch City Commission meetings. But after receiving a bunch of texts about the June 4 meeting, I decided to put it on as background noise while I worked.

Commissioner Rob Long started a conversation about the opaque process to find a group to help get Old School Square’s theater and classrooms going again. Commissioner Long objected to an allegation made at another meeting that the nonprofit that created Old School Square and did a damn good job for decades was under FBI investigation.

It’s just not true.

The truth is there has been no coherent process to replace the nonprofit that built Old School Square and nurtured it for 32 years. It is just a muddled mess, which has compounded the poor and expensive decision to boot the group without a plan.

What transpired was a shrill and embarrassing discussion that further sullied the reputations of valued community servants who gave their time, talent, and treasure to this city for 30 plus years. These people really took a beating, it was unnecessary and undeserving. A majority of the commission didn’t look good  in adminstering the beat down. We can do better.

But the point here is not to re-litigate the Old School Square mess. It’s to point out, that nowhere in this disaster have we found it in our hearts to slow down, stop for a moment, and give thanks to community volunteers.

Instead, we have treated some of our best citizens as if they are criminals. They are not.

Nobody is perfect, and mistakes were made and owned, despite what is being said by people who ought to know better. But when people talk past each other we don’t get anything but hurt.

Mercifully, what’s left of the Old School Square nonprofit wrote a letter the next day to the City Manager saying no more. Inexplicably, the manager had written to the group asking if they still had interest in providing those missing classes and theatre programming. The letter was a joke. Not a funny one either.

But the larger point is we have spent years denigrating, disrespecting, and spreading lies about a group that has brought immeasurable benefits to our town.

The only acknowledgment of that contribution came from Commissioner Angela Burns.

As a result, I wrote her a note of thanks. Mr. Long should also be commended for trying to inject some sense into this topic. He tried to address the false allegations but all it did was unleash another round of hurt.

We need leadership that says thank you. We need a society that doesn’t play gotcha, that seeks to solve, not destroy.

Old School Square was not a perfect organization. Nobody is perfect. But the nonprofit did good things, many good things for a long time.  Our city government has screwed up plenty over the years too. But our local government has also done some amazing things. Accountability is essential, but so is kindness. You can have both. Sometimes it takes courage to stop the cycle of recrimination. It takes leadership to recognize that a community needs to heal and move on.

The Greatest Generation set the example of all examples when they saved the world from monsters and then set about rebuilding the post-war world order.

By comparison, what we deal with locally should be easy. Make no mistake, there is no equivalency between D-Day and the petty personal politics we deal with at home and in Washington D.C.

Still, there are examples we can use from history to build a better world.

We can start with five words: thank you for your service. But you have to mean it. You have to really mean it.

 

Delray Pie

I’m stealing this opening from a friend.

If he wants credit, I’ll reveal his name next week. If he wants to enter the witness protection program, I’ll try  to help.

But I love the analogy and I thought I’d share. So here goes.

Imagine, if you will, that every time you step forward to help, you get hit in the face with a pie.

That’s what happening to the good folks who have hung in there at Old School Square.

Last week, they went to a Downtown Development Authority (DDA) meeting to discuss the results of a city commission workshop in which it was decided that the DDA should consider working with the non-profit to offer arts classes and to begin to get the Crest Theatre up and running again. I believe it was also decided that an invitation to negotiate will be made available to other organizations. That’s the right and proper thing to do. Let the best ideas win.

Without dredging up the ugliness, they got hit in the face with a pie from a board member who doesn’t have her facts straight.

The details of the latest pie in the face are not important. It’s the same tired, discredited arguments that have been made since Old School Square was terminated “without cause” (how’s that for irony?) in 2021. Still, Old School Square fired back with a letter to the DDA chairman requesting that the facts be read into the public record.

That’s a good and necessary step.

But there’s a deeper issue here and one that we really ought to understand and address.

But let’s digress for a moment.

Books– with lots of chapters and lots of words– have been written about how to build a successful city.

I wrote one of them and I’ve read a lot of them too.

Cities are complicated places; they succeed or fail for a variety of reasons. But if you boil it down, there are two essential ingredients for success. Let’s call them table stakes; the minimal entry requirement for success.

They are?

Drum roll please…

It must be safe to aspire, and it must be safe to volunteer.

That’s it.

The rest is negotiable.

Sure, it helps if you have a pristine beach or a city with what they call “good bones.”

Universities and cultural amenities are cool and good schools are a huge advantage but if volunteering is treacherous, you’re toast. If aspiration is anathema, you’re DOA.

Not only won’t you move forward, but everything that you’ve managed to build is in danger if citizens who aspire feel it’s dangerous, frustrating, or downright impossible to invest or volunteer.

I’m afraid that’s where we’ve been in Delray Beach. We’re digging out, but we have work to do.

It reminds me of that old saying: There’s a reason why we can’t have nice things—just yet anyway.

It’s hard to build community when there are elements who just won’t accept facts.

Of course, we are entitled to our opinions, but you really can’t have your own facts and function properly. The Earth is not flat and nobody at Old School Square took a dime of taxpayer money and stuffed it into their pockets. All public money given the organization was earned after services were rendered. For years, volunteers raised 75-80 percent of the money used to run our cultural arts center and did all the work, now the taxpayer pays 100 percent. That’s a fact.

The volunteers didn’t stick the taxpayers with a bill for the renovation of the Crest Theatre either. That project was funded by a generous donor who had a pie thrown in her face and withdrew her money.

Now the taxpayers must ante up millions for projects that were privately funded through the efforts of Old School Square.

If you’re an arsonist, you shouldn’t be able to burn down a house and then blame others for the destruction you caused.

Old School Square fired back at the latest pie in the face by stating the facts. That was the right thing to do.

But the larger issue is the pie throwing itself;  the larger issue is the sense that if you fall on the wrong side of the political divide, you face peril.

It’s not fun to write that sentence, but building anything of value requires radical candor. Problems don’t magically go away, if left unaddressed, they fester. In our community, we have a bad habit of just trying to plow forward. We skip the healing part, we skip the analysis and we sacrifice the learning and the reconciliation that’s possible if we talk through issues and try and find the lessons in painful moments.

The new composition of the city commission is making strides. We have kind people serving on the city commission. Our city and our world need empathetic leadership at every level.

I am not asking for some kumbaya moment. But I’m thinking we should take advice from Otis Redding and try a little tenderness.

Robust debate is healthy and necessary. If you see something you don’t like, speak out, even if you shake when you do so.

We can disagree. We can even compromise, imagine that?

But we cannot be successful if volunteers don’t feel safe to serve or disagree.

You can say Old School Square made mistakes, but if you are alleging corruption, you better bring the goods.

Margaret Atwood who wrote “The Handmaid’s Tale” is an expert communicator on dystopias and utopias.

She says we have a choice.

“Writing dystopias and utopias is a way of asking the reader the question, “where do you want to live?” she recently said. “And where you end up living is going to depend partly on what you do now.”

Yes indeed. What do we do right now?

We have a choice.

I hope we choose kindness and support those who value building a community where it is safe to dream, volunteer, invest and aspire.

If we don’t, there will be nobody to throw pies at, volunteers and those who aspire will find somewhere else to give their time, talent and treasure. We will lose what took decades to build. We already have when it comes to Old School Square.

 

 

 

Some of it’s Magic

Jimmy Buffett played Delray’s Old School Square lifting spirits during the pandemic. He was known to frequent Atlantic Avenue night spots over the years. 

I didnt want to sit with this one.

Jimmy Buffett’s death hits hard and hits deep.
For many of us, Jimmy Buffett symbolized all that was right and romantic about Florida and his loss makes you think of all that’s been lost or threatened.
The same day Jimmy Buffett passed, the Wall Street Journal ran a story about how hurricanes are threatening “old Florida” towns. Idalia pummeled Cedar Key and other storms have wiped away wooden bungalows, quirky shops and working class culture in towns along the coast.
For me and I’m sure millions, Jimmy Buffett embodied the old Florida of shorts, sand, sun and roadside kitsch.
Many of the obituaries mentioned that Mr. Buffett created a 50 year career out of one hit “Margaritaville.”
It’s a good line but not true. Buffett’s catalog was extraordinary with a trunk full of timeless songs.
When I got a text from my brother in law with the news I immediately started playing “Songs You Know By Heart” a 1985 compilation that features most of the classics.
Jimmy’s music instantly creates a mood. And so within minutes I found myself smiling to “Changes in Latitudes” and “Cheeseburger in Paradise”. But there’s more to Buffett’s music than “kosher pickles and French fried potatoes ” or “flip flops” and blenders, there’s depth and pathos too.
“A pirate looks at 40” and “Come Monday” are incredible songs. “He went to Paris” and “Son of a Son of a Sailor” are masterpieces—cinematic in scope and atmosphere.
Yes Jimmy was a great writer.
He wrote books too, best sellers that inspired plays. He was a world class performer and a wildly successful entrepreneur.
And he embodied a relaxed, fun, festive and tropical Florida lifestyle.
We seem far from relaxed and fun these days.
But Buffett’s style  provides a road map back to a better place.  Perhaps if we choose to set aside our anger and differences we can get that change in attitude that Jimmy joyfully sang about.
We live in paradise. It does not have to be lost.
‘ some of it’s magic, some of it’s tragic

But I had a good life all the way.’

Thanks Jimmy.  You sure did

The Four Freedoms

On this Memorial Day please remember that some gave all.

I’ve been watching the debt ceiling debate for months now.

Most people, I suspect, have been focused on this for a few weeks, but I’ve been concerned for a while because I’ve learned (the hard way) to be wary of extremists—on both sides of the aisle. As Maya Angelou warned us: “when someone shows you who they are, believe them.”

Good advice. Please be forewarned.

We live in an age where norms, values, expertise, experience and even morals are being brushed aside, like lint on your collar. We used to question and challenge assumptions and that’s healthy.

But these days we conclude and we slam our minds shut.  We discard, disparage, and destroy.

This is troubling news, but very real. It’s a fever that promises to break us before we break the fever.

So, when I heard rumblings about the debt ceiling months ago, I became alarmed. We have gone to the edge of a cliff a few times with the full faith and credit of the United States at risk only to pull back. But this time feels different to me, I hope I’m wrong, but I believe there are forces who want us to jump off that cliff. I hope there’s really a deal.

But this isn’t a discussion about the nation’s deficit, which is atrocious and embarrassing. Future generations will curse us, of that I am certain. We need to live within our means. It’s just that simple. But we don’t.

Still, this debate is about paying our bills. It’s about not endangering America’s economy and our place in the world.

A responsible government would pay its bills and then immediately sit down and come up with a plan to tackle the debt or  at least get it under control. But we are no longer responsible, we are tribal. There’s a difference.

We have become captive to the extremes, and I believe that most of us are not extreme.  Therein lies the problem.

We are stuck in a car with reckless drivers and that car is running over the norms, values and morals that built this nation. It’s heartbreaking.

Whenever I get overwhelmed by the gravity of a situation, I seek a change of scenery and the advice of wise counsel. I highly recommend both.

We happened to have a trip to New England scheduled so I was able to change my scenery to that of the Maine seacoast. There’s something about the history of New England, the architecture, the kindness of the people and the lobster that settles you. (Ok, I don’t like lobster, but I hear it’s good in Maine).

When I returned, I checked in with my good friend Kerry Koen for a heart to heart. I wrote about Kerry, our beloved former fire chief (he served both Boca and Delray in that capacity) a few weeks back. Anyway, Kerry loves history as do I. In preparation for our talk, I spent time on the plane reading about FDR’s “Four Freedoms” speech and the Atlantic Charter, written by Roosevelt and Winston Churchill. I also read the 14thAmendment, especially the clause that says the “validity of the public debt, authorized by law … shall not be questioned”.

Pretty heady stuff for a short flight—I’m so glad we bought the comfort plus seats on Delta which gave us an extra centimeter of leg room….

I digress.

The Atlantic Charter and the Four Freedoms speak to fundamental American values. Not Democratic values or Republican values—American values.

The first of Roosevelt’s Four Freedoms is freedom of speech and expression—not just here but everywhere in the world.

The second is freedom to worship G-d in his or her own way—everywhere in the world.

The third is freedom from want—-which means that everyone the world over should be economically secure.

The fourth is freedom from fear—especially the horrors of war.

Later, in the same speech FDR outlined six goals:

Equality of opportunity for youth and for others.

Jobs for those who can work.

Security for those who need it.

The ending of special privilege for the few.

The preservation of civil liberties for all.

The enjoyment of the fruits of scientific progress in a wider and constantly rising standard of living.

The Four Freedoms served as a justification for America to confront Hitler and his fascist followers. As captured by painter Norman Rockwell, the freedoms were considered values central to American life and an example of American exceptionalism.

Ask yourself, how we are measuring up to those values?

The Atlantic Charter, issued in August 1941, was a joint statement by America and Great Britain which called for no territorial aggrandizement, no territorial changes made against the wishes of the people (self-determination), restoration of self-government to those deprived of it, reduction of trade restrictions, global co-operation to secure better economic and social conditions for all, freedom from fear and want, freedom of the seas, abandonment of the use of force, and disarmament of aggressor nations.

The charter, ambitious and idealistic, was hugely influential and historians believe it was one of the first steps toward the formation of the United Nations.

It’s a monumental document written by serious people trying to save the free world from unimaginable evil.

Values and ideals should be ambitious. They should inspire and move people toward building a better world.

Like everything else, there are local parallels to national and world affairs.

Cities should have visions, values, and ideals. They should be inspiring and exciting to old timers and newcomers alike.

Those visions need to be updated every 20 years or so, if you believe what my good friends Chris Brown and Kim Briesemeister write in their great book “Reinventing Your City.” If Chris’ name sounds familiar, well it should. He was a pioneering CRA director and currently sits on our Planning and Zoning Board. Kim used to run the West Palm CRA. They know their stuff.

Visions are meant to be refreshed, but values and morals are meant to last. Still, even the strongest values are vulnerable to indifference and bad behavior.

Once lost, we enter dangerous seas. We become adrift from our moorings. There’s a reason we refer to a moral compass—our morals should guide us— always.

We hear a lot of talk around these parts about the Delray Way, but I wonder if we have lost sight of what that phrase means.

Here’s what I remember and understand it to be.

When confronted with a problem, we acknowledge the challenge and work together to make things better.

We try to be inclusive and involve the community.

We strive to make the community a safe place to serve, whether we work here or volunteer.

We respect differences, celebrate our diversity as a strength and find ways to move forward. We compromise. We put the community first, above our egos and our ambitions.

I grew up in this town watching people who practiced the Delray Way every day. I watched them revive a dead downtown, I saw them address education , I saw them clean up crime riddled neighborhoods and I saw them take three old and dilapidated buildings on the corner of Atlantic and Swinton and turn it into a community gathering place.

As I reviewed my friend Chris Brown’s book last week, I saw a photo of Old School Square in 1985. It was barren, beaten and blighted. Chris and Kim used the restoration of Old School Square as an example for other city leaders to take look at the assets in their community and make the most of them.

A few hours later, the magic of serendipity occurred. Chris called. We don’t speak regularly, but we do stay in touch. He made a point to call me each month as I recovered from Covid. I make it a point to learn from him when we speak. So, I asked Chris about Old School Square, and he told me that all the redevelopment we saw in Delray—the value, the vibrancy, the excitement—emanated like rays from that site.

As you know, the group that created Old School Square, that shepherded the restoration and more importantly infused the place with the idea of community was booted by the previous commission from the site after 32 years.

The election in March saw candidates who supported the eviction lose to candidates who want to restore the site and heal a community that needs healing.

When a community or a nation needs healing, I would argue the best path is to go back to your values and ideals. If you’ve strayed, you should come home.

We need to go home. We have the compass. Do we have the will and the leadership?

Update

Last week, we wrote about the tragic murders of Karen Slattery and Georgianna Worden and the death warrant signed by the governor for the killer Duane Owen. A day after publication, it was reported that a hold was put on the execution pending psychiatric evaluation.

According to the Florida News service: “Gov. Ron DeSantis temporarily put a hold on the execution of Duane Eugene Owen and ordered a psychiatric evaluation of the death row inmate after his lawyers argued that he may be insane.

 

Owen, 62, is slated to be executed by lethal injection on June 15. But DeSantis issued an executive order calling for three psychiatrists to evaluate Owen.

 

According to the order, Owen’s lawyers sent a letter to the governor that included a neuropsychologist’s “recent evaluation” saying that Owen “meets the criteria for insanity.”

 

Owen was “feeling that he is a woman in the body of a man” and “was trying to fully become the woman he really was,” according to the order, which quoted from the neuropsychologist’s report.

We will keep you posted.

A Case For Grace

I’ve been thinking about grace lately.

Grace: What a beautiful word.

Sadly, there’s far too little grace in this world. We’d sure be better off if there were more.

We named our golden retriever Gracie because we thought the name was cute. But the name also felt right. Maybe subconsciously we were looking to add a little grace to our lives.

Last week, the Downtown Development Authority held a grand re-opening of the Cornell Museum at Old School Square.

Readers of this blog know how I and some 11,000 others who signed a petition feel about the City Commission’s decision to terminate the lease of the non-profit that created Old School Square and loved the place for 32 years.

The decision and how it was done was the opposite of gracious. It’s been ugly, expensive, and hurtful, in more ways than we can calculate.

The DDA is stepping into the mess created by this town’s toxic politics and while I do not believe government should be running our cultural arts center, we need to be gracious and wish them well.

Personally, I hope they hit it out of the park and then I hope they find a way to create a community organization that will love and give that special place their hearts for years to come. A community non-profit working alongside city government is the secret sauce.

In other words, I hope they can replicate what we’ve lost, which in a word was love.  Love for a place. Love for community.

And so, I think those of us who care about Old School Square should make a statement to that affect. If you love something, you need to root for it to be healthy and successful.

Right now, Old School Square’s campus is not healthy.

The campus seems sad.

The theater will miss yet another season and the classrooms are empty.

Those who love the historic buildings worry about the state of those buildings. Old structures need to be nurtured.  We worry that the buildings are not being tended to. Let’s hope we’re wrong.

But despite what we think of the decision to terminate— by my estimate the worst made by a commission in my 36 years living here—we need to root for the project gifted to us by the efforts of Frances Bourque all those years ago.

We need to cling to the idea of a community gathering place. We need to root for those buildings, that theater, those classrooms, and that museum to come to life and get its soul back.

That doesn’t mean those of us who love Old School Square should give up our fight.

The best way to stand up to a bully is to do what’s right, and in this case, litigating is the only option because our elected “leaders” refuse to meet and talk like we have always done in this town.

Let’s pause for a moment and talk about the lawsuit. OSS Board members have been called “unpatriotic” for suing their own city. As if you should just allow an injustice to happen, pack your bags, thank your bully for allowing you to serve and leave with your tail between your legs as if you are a pledge in the movie “Animal House” being paddled and replying: “thank you sir, may I have another.”

No, thanks.

Capitulating is not patriotism and that’s not loving your city as the board of Old School Square, its patrons, supporters, donors, former employees, and volunteers most surely do. If you love something, you fight for it.

There is no financial upside to this lawsuit for OSS not to mention the stress that accompanies litigation. But there is value in fighting for a cause, even if you lose.

There’s value to standing up against political forces who cut out the public and decide to kill something without a conversation with the community they are supposed to be serving.

But make no mistake about it, lawsuits are terrible.

Lawsuits indicate failure.

Failure to talk.

Failure to compromise.

Failure to use reason and negotiation to come up with a solution to a breach.

In this case, it’s a failure of political leadership that is costing the taxpayers millions of dollars that could have easily been avoided with some—you guessed it: grace.

When OSS offered to settle, a majority of the city commission didn’t even want to hear the details. They refused to consider the offer. They’d rather use your money to pay out of town lawyers than talk with their neighbors.

Every living former Mayor except for Tom Carney (who served for a few weeks) dating to Doak Campbell through Cary Glickstein signed a letter asking simply for the city to meet and talk with their partners of 32 years. Just talk.

Like we’ve always done; like we’ve always been able to do in what we used to call the “Delray Way.”

The OSS Board was not merely a “tenant” or a “management company”, they were the creators of what had been Delray Beach’s signature civic project. These are the people who birthed a community based cultural arts center that created a renaissance for our downtown and for our city. Pre Old School Square, Delray had been suffering from blight, vacancy and neglect before Frances Bourque and others sparked a movement.

That a civic icon has ended up on the “outs” forced to litigate the city she has served passionately says all you need to know about Delray Beach in 2023.

She is joined by a group of wonderful people who have served this town well for decades. Their hearts are broken.

A place striving to be a community would recognize this hurt and do something about it.

As of the writing of this blog, nobody has called Frances Bourque in over a year.

We’re not talking about a call to help fix the breach, discuss the future, or get some tips (which people in this city can surely use because they have sure made a mess of things). But just to say, “thank you”, or “I’m sorry for your pain.”

When the DDA got the job, they didn’t call. They should have.

My peeps call it being a mensch. A mensch, in Yiddish, is a person of integrity, morality and dignity; someone with a sense of what is right. But the term mensch is more than just an old Yiddish adage. It is relevant across the world because we are suffering from the actions of nihilists, narcissists and nincompoops. Just look at Congress.

To be a mensch is to be supportive; to be a friend, to be calm in troubled times and do the right thing.

It means showing grace.

A call doesn’t cost us anything, but it’s meaningful.

It doesn’t compromise a lawsuit and it doesn’t take hours of your day, but it would mean something if it was a sincere acknowledgement, not just a check the box gesture

Grace and gratitude matter.

Accountability also matters.

OSS has tried to own its mistakes. It has never made a representation that it was perfect. Contrary to what you’ve been told, documents that were asked for were produced (of course, the authorities kept moving the bar) and audits, while late (during a pandemic when the auditor quit), were clean.

Instead of sitting down and airing issues, like over 11,000 petitioners asked this city to do, we chose to do the opposite.

And that’s costly for us as taxpayers. That’s why you should care. That’s why you should vote.

For the folks saying move on, well tell that to the taxpayers footing the bill for all this dysfunction.

For all the money given to OSS over the years, the return on investment was many, many times greater. In fact, the money given to OSS were grants, awarded after services asked for were rendered.

OSS paid 75-80 percent of the costs and did all the work year after year.

Now, we the taxpayer, are on the hook for 100 percent of the costs. This includes millions to finish renovations that were already paid for by a generous donor who pulled her money mid-construction when the organization she supported was kicked to the curb without public input or even an agenda item. How many other generous donors who may have given to our library, Arts Garage or other non-profits looked at what happened and decided to keep their checkbook on the sidelines? Is it safe to donate to a local non-profit that works with city government?

So how do we hold people to account?

Sometimes in court and always at the ballot box and word has it that there’s an election in March.

Either venue doesn’t guarantee justice or accountability. Our system is far from perfect and bad actors sometimes get rewarded. But the long arc of history has a way of bending toward justice. Karma also plays a role.

Still, we can’t forget about graciousness.

The DDA is a capable organization, but building a community is a people business and someone from that organization should call and thank Frances Bourque, long time president Joe Gillie and  other key contributors who gave us the gift that is Old School Square. They should also call Margaret Blume, the generous donor whose gift of $1.6 million enabled the renovation of the Cornell Museum. It seems like the plaque honoring that donation was removed by someone before the re-opening of the museum.

Maybe it will be put back. It should be.

As I write this, I got a text saying that the DDA will be updating the history of OSS and will acknowledge donors. New wording should be up next week. That’s good news. But I hope the phone rings at Frances’ house because without her input I don’t know how that history could be complete or accurate.

It would have been nice to acknowledge these key players opening night. That’s when the crowds show up, the speeches are made, and the Instagram videos are posted. Alas, that opportunity came and  went. Like so many opportunities we keep missing to heal, to build community.

Absent the most recent opportunity, we can always place a call.

Again, it has nothing to do with a lawsuit and everything to do with being gracious. It has everything to do with showing empathy and respect for people who have done a lot for this town.

The hardworking team at the DDA deserves our support. We all have a rooting interest in their success as they take on this important mission.

We show grace by our well wishes.

We help to heal a community if that graciousness is reciprocated.

It’s All About Soul

There’s a darkness in the center of town.

It’s been said that placemaking done right builds on “the soul” of a place.

I like that sentiment.

Too often, we think of placemaking as construction when it’s really about storytelling.

I believe that every place has a story to tell and that our job as citizens is to honor that story.

If we do, we will be good stewards of our communities and we will make sure that change—which is inevitable—will be authentic and feel good. But if we don’t, we will lose our soul and the essence of what makes a place special.

Losing what’s special about a place, doesn’t happen overnight, but it will happen. If we keep pulling threads, eventually the garment falls apart.

I believe that good design helps build great places, but that’s only one piece of the puzzle.

The other part—the most important part— is the people equation.

A great place must be “people friendly.” It must be warm and inviting and above all it must be respectful of its past, mindful of its present and always thinking about the future.

Those thoughts hit me when I drive past a still vacant Old School Square on my way to work in the morning.

To me, those beautiful buildings—once bustling with activity—seem sad and lonely. The Crest Theatre, home to so many magical performances over the years, is now an abandoned construction site. The classrooms once the home of art and photography classes are empty. The newly renovated Cornell Museum has had its walls stripped of art.

It didn’t have to be this way, but that’s a whole other story.

Meanwhile, The Downtown Development Authority is poised to come in and pump some life into the grounds and I have no doubt that if given ample resources, they will.

But as good as that agency is—and I’ve been a supporter over the years—I don’t think it will be easy to replace the soul of Old School Square. And as Billy Joel sings: “it’s all about soul.”

Old School Square’s soul was embodied by the special people who gave their time, passion, love, and hard-earned money to that place on the corner of Atlantic and Swinton for 32 years before the City Commission on a 3-2 vote kicked them to the curb. The public had no opportunity to weigh in before the vote, because the item to terminate the lease was never on an agenda.

But I suspect, based on the thousands of people who signed a petition to reverse the decision, that the community would have asked the commission to stop. Sadly, that never happened.

For 14 long months, there have been clumsy efforts to replace the non-profit that created Old School Square.  But that’s not proving to be so easy. And I know why: you can’t dial up soul.

You can’t issue an RFP and ask a group to bring love and passion as well as operating chops and tons of money. That’s what we’ve lost–love, passion and 80 percent of a $3 million operating budget. And it’s not a one time loss. It will be felt every year until you find a way to bring the soul back to what was Delray’s signature civic project.

Into that vacuum, comes the DDA. They are taking on a difficult and expensive assignment.

Again,  I support the agency.  When I was an elected official, and the downtown was humming, I would get occasional calls from citizens who wanted to disband the taxing authority.

“We don’t need the DDA anymore,” they would declare. “The downtown is busy. Their job is done.”

I would disagree, because the first rule of success in life, business, cities, and downtowns is this: you are never done.

Complacency is a killer.

Just when you think you’ve got it made, life will remind you that you don’t.

So, for the record, I hope the DDA succeeds.

But I will always believe that the Commission’s decision to terminate Old School Square, the very creators of the concept, was a tragically bad one. Costly in so many ways and while the politicians mercifully come and go, you the taxpayer will be saddled with those costs for years to come.

The biggest cost is the people who were thrown to the curb. They were awfully good folks—as good as it gets. Contributors who were generous and passionate about their town who were, in the end, told to get lost. People who ought to know better but don’t are lying about them and when they do they reveal who they really are.

That’s tragic and hurtful. And it matters. More than dollars and cents.

My friends, it’s the people who provide the magic.

It’s the people who provide the soul of a place.

People and only people can animate a brand, a community, a non-profit, a neighborhood.

So, it’s not about plugging in another entity or designing a great looking space. Of course, the entity is important and the space as is well, but it’s who comes/volunteers (and stays) at the table and who replaces them when they move on that matters most.

There was a time when our city government had multiple “connection” or entry points. There were Citizen Police Academies, there were Resident Academies, a Youth Council and more charrettes and more visioning exercises than you could count.

Old School Square was the heart and soul of those efforts to connect us.

It was a place to gather and celebrate our history, discuss our present and plan our future.

Old School Square was the physical and spiritual embodiment of our community. And it was wiped out without notice, forethought, or empathy.

I would be the last person to argue that what we lost was perfect. But Old School Square was good and there were times when it was great.

And that’s why you work to make it better. You don’t throw it away. You don’t kick it to the curb and then flail around asking the Boca Museum to help you (think about that for a moment, call on a Boca institution to run our community’s cultural center? Come on, folks) before resting on the DDA.

The DDA has promised to enlist volunteers and engage stakeholders as they embark on this new task. They are even suggesting the creation of a non-profit so they can solicit donations. Hmm….sounds familiar. It sounds like Old School Square.

All that is fine, but  I also hope they take some time to heal some deep wounds. Reach out to some of the people who loved Old School Square. Reach out to the woman who gave it life: Frances Bourque.

I know that won’t be a popular move with some of the powers that be. So what? It’s the right thing to do.

A warm gesture would be good for the soul.

And what’s good for the soul is good for the town.

A Year Of Darkness

There’s a darkness in the center of town.

Anniversaries are funny things.

We mark the dates we like to celebrate—weddings, first dates, the opening of businesses. But we also mark the dates we’re troubled by—the loss of a loved one, the break up of a relationship, hurricanes etc.

For many in our community, 8/10 has become a date they will remember.

On August 10, 2021, the Delray Beach City Commission voted 3-2 to sever their relationship with Old School Square and terminate a 32 year history with the organization that created and largely funded that magical place on the corner of Atlantic and Swinton that catalyzed the rebirth of our downtown and became the creative hub of our  community.

A year later, the theater and museum remain dark despite sssurances from the commission majority and the City Manager that there would be a “seemless” transition with more and better cultural opportunities.

Instead, we’ve been left with expensive litigation, embarrassing headlines for the city and big bills ahead for taxpayers to get the place up and running again.

Over the past year, we have witnessed oodles of accusations against the volunteers and donors who lovingly supported Old School Square and worked on behalf of our community for decades.

Some of those volunteers and donors have been so poorly treated that they have vowed to never serve again. Others are steadfast in their resolve to not be bullied and have vowed to continue their efforts to bring a modicum of common sense back to a town that once was a beacon for other cities to admire and follow.

But divisive politics and a nonstop turnstile of staff at City Hall have left us with a lot of damage  and dysfunction.

Everywhere you go these days, people ask “what happened to Delray? “

We used to hear: “I wish our town got along as well as your town does.”

That’s a big swing in sentiment.

So why does it matter?

After all, the downtown is teeming with visitors, property values continue to soar and tourists are still flocking to “America’s Most Fun Small City.”

Indeed, all of those things are true. And I would argue that’s a testament to the good work that began in the late 80s with the Atlantic Avenue Task Force, Visions 2000, the Decade of Excellence, the Downtown Master Plan and other efforts large and small ranging from the Community Land Trust, the Cultural Plan, Southwest Plan and an important and groundbreaking initiative to improve race relations. There was a lot of good work done in this town. The success we’ve experienced was not an accident. It was planned and made possible by a generation of volunteers who cared passionately about working together to buld a better community.

At the center of it all was Old School Square.

Not only was the project a catalyst for downtown revitalization and civic renewal, but it was a place to gather, dream, talk things over and soak up the arts with a slew of memorable performances and exhibitions lovingly curated and made possible by local leaders who dreamt of making this a special place —and succeeded.

So this anniversary is a sad one.

Because we have lost so much. And I contend that the success mentioned before is endangered by a political culture that prizes personal retribution over doing what’s best for the community.

A month or so ago,  the city went back to the old playbook and held a charrette, or gathering, to determine what should happen at Old School Square.

Charrettes are great and there is a rich history of successful ones that made a profound difference in our town.

But the spirit of a charrette is to allow stakeholders to dream unencumbered and this one violated that basic and fundamental tenet. Attendees were told to focus on  “what” should happen at Old School Square not “who” should run the place.

That struck many as unfair.

But the city didn’t want to be embarrassed because the optics would have been bad if the stakeholders said they liked what they had. Besides, a majority of the commission had already decided that they wanted the Boca Museum and two local artists to be in charge only to see that idea fizzle out.

Lo and behold, the outcome of the charrette proved quite interesting and predictable really. The stakeholders who attended—many stayed away because they didn’t trust the process—said they wanted largely what they had before with the organization that was booted from the premises.

Many of us were not surprised because while Old School Square was by no means perfect or all that it could be, they were doing a whole lot right and there was no public clamor for a change.

So why was the group booted from the place they created? Why was there a sense of urgency to get rid of a group that provided 75-80 percent of the funding to support things like free concerts, art exhibits, theater productions and classes?

The answer to those questions can be found in one word: Politics (with a capital p).

Pure and simple.

The board, the donors and the volunteers pissed off a few people who had the power to break the place.

Why?

What did these people do that was so heinous?

Well, they didn’t support the right candidates as deemed by the powers that be.

And that’s why we hear the refrain that whoever inherits those buildings should be apolitical or perhaps from another community entirely. Really?

We should ask involved citizens to not have an opinion? We should ask another community to come in and run cultural programs in our town?

So I wonder.

I wonder if the board, donors, volunteers and supporters of Old School Square had supported the so-called “right candidates” if there would be a clamor to make non profit board members apolitical or if there would be this need to bring in Boca to run our community’s beating heart.

I doubt it.

Granted, non-profits should not be political.

But individuals who choose to volunteer shouldn’t have to disenfranchise themselves to serve. Old School Square was not political. But the people involved do have opinions and they are entitled to be citizens. Instead of doing what you can to “make those people go away” perhaps the powers that be ought to look in the mirror and ask why a large segment of community leaders and volunteers are unhappy with their politics. Maybe, they should even talk to those who disagree with them. I know that’s a radical concept, but some dialogue might have saved the taxpayers millions of dollars because that’s what it is going to take to fix this mess.

For the past year, the board, donors, volunteers and supporters of Old School Square have been excused of being “political”, “double dipping” (whatever that is) and even worse. But all they’ve been doing is fighting for something they believe in. Bullies don’t like that. They like to dish it out, they don’t like it when you push back.

There have been no conversations to solve this expensive problem, no efforts to settle the litigation, establish dialogue or work things out.

Instead, we’ve seen a once effective CRA weaponized by politics and used as a cudgel to strike back at those who have dared to stand up for what they believe in. The latest is the CRA effort to get the Small Business Administration to investigate PPP funds used to get Old School Square through a horrible  and unforeseen pandemic.

All of this matters because all of this comes with a cost.

It will take millions of taxpayer dollars to bring Old  School Square back on line. Millions of dollars to make the darkened Crest Theatre function again and get the museum up and running. PS those millions were already raised and being deployed when the plug was pulled.

The generous donor who paid to improve the Cornell Museum, renovate the Crest Theater and add a long coveted commercial kitchen so the organization could host more and better community events pulled her funds and recently spoke before the commission to ask what happened and why those beloved buildings are still dark a year later.

I wonder if other donors were watching and thinking maybe they ought to invest elsewhere. Yes, there is a hidden cost to this brand of politics.

A year ago, I wrote two emails to our latest City Manager Terrance Moore.

The first was to welcome him to our city and wish him well. I wished Mr. Moore success because we’ve had 9, 10 or a hundred (I forget)  City Managers come and go (many humiliated and two with lawsuits) since David Harden retired in 2012 after 22 years in the job.

We need a good manager. We need one to succeed and build a staff that can effectively serve our community.

I got a nice reply back from Mr. Moore at the time.

My second email was a cautionary one after the August 10 decision. I felt that the Manager’s messaging was political and that it was dangerous because managers need to serve both sides of the divide. I also felt,and still do, that he does not grasp the enormity of the mistake that was made and the monumental task it will be to bring back Old School Square.

Those who know would have cautioned Mr. Moore that the transition would not be seemless and that there are many moving parts to consider and understand that he simply doesn’t get. How can he? He’s brand new to our community.

I don’t fault Mr. Moore for the decision.  He didn’t make it. But I do fault him for not speaking truth to power and for failing to talk to a wide swath of the community on this issue to gain a better understanding of the importance of Old School Square.

The lesson here, as we mark a sad anniversary, is that before you break something you really need to be confident you can put it back together again.

I’ve seen a lot of things broken in recent years by people who weren’t around when things got fixed.

Cities are delicate organisms—resilient only to a point. Pull a thread here and there and you may get lucky. But pull the wrong thread and a place can unravel.

The sad lesson is something that can take 30 plus years to build can be broken in one night by one vote. And it wasn’t even on the agenda…so you , the ones who pay the bills, didn’t get a chance to say stop.

 

Further Adventures….

Shameless plug…available on Amazon. If you are interested in Delray you may like it.

A few years back, I wrote a book.

“Adventures in Local Politics” was an attempt to chronicle my experiences as an elected official from 2000-2007.

It was also an attempt to write the book I was looking for and could never find—a primer on local government. I wanted to share some insights about the things that I saw that worked and I wanted to share what didn’t, because I’m a firm believer that mistakes are a great teacher.

During Covid, my old publisher went belly up and I learned that my book would no longer be available on Amazon or other outlets.

Since I still get a few stray requests for books, I decided to find another publisher and refresh my work. I spent about six months adding a new introduction and working with a new editor to tighten up the manuscript.  I decided not to update the story because I felt I should preserve my original experience. In other words, I didn’t include current events. I figure that’s what this blog is for.

Still, the experience of revisiting the Delray I once knew was powerful and potentially instructive to a growing movement of people seeking to make our hometown better. There’s lessons in the book that I firmly believe resonate today.

Still, revisiting the Delray of the 80s, 90s and early 2000s was impactful.

So much has changed.

It’s as if the town that I knew— and fell in love with—has vanished.

Now I am not talking about the physical changes, which are many and certainly important. I’m talking about the atmosphere, the feeling in town, the sense of community and the general mood.

Truth be told, Delray is not alone. The world has changed and so has America.

Some of those changes have been good and some have been…well …not so good. I’m trying to be diplomatic.

I think the fundamental change is that there is a coarseness to our society.

There’s less kindness.

Less teamwork.

Less collaboration.

Less trust.

Sadly, there’s a lot more nastiness, individualism, and suspicion of each other.

As happy as I am— and I am blessed– and as happy and fortunate as many of my friends are, I can honestly say that an overwhelming majority feel that there is something fundamentally wrong these days. Things just don’t feel right.

Diving back into the galleys of my old book I was transported back to a different time and a very different place. I miss that place. I loved that place. I long for that place and so do many of my friends.

We were a community and a country brimming with possibilities and aspirations. Each year things seemed to get better. You could feel the optimism in the air. It was electric and our confidence in the future grew alongside our vision which was exciting and seemingly within reach.

The trust in each other grew as well. When we saw our collective dreams become reality, we believed that anything was possible.

Yes, I know it’s easy to glorify the past, easy to brush past the sins and the mistakes. And mind you, there were plenty of both.

There were lots of heartbreaks and disappointments, but we seemed to absorb them better as a society back then. Some of the setbacks actually made us closer.

I’ll give you an example.

I served in the wake of 9/11. Do you remember what a shock to the system that was? The horror? The sadness? The fear?

We discovered that many of the terrorists were living among us. They were at our library; the mastermind of the plot filled a prescription at Huber’s Drugs. Those monsters lived in The Hamlet, at Laver’s Racquet Club and worked out at a gym on Atlantic and Military Trail.

It was all so surreal, but we came together.

We gathered at Old School Square for a vigil, gathered again at the Community Center for a prayer service and beamed with pride when our police department created a volunteer Homefront Security force staffed by senior citizens wearing berets and sharp uniforms.

Those beautiful souls– many were World War II veterans and members of our Greatest Generation– patrolled our public buildings. They watched over us and were proud to give back once more to a country and a city that they loved.

And we loved them back.

I remember talking to Charlie Goldberg and Bob Banquer, two of the most dedicated volunteers you can imagine. They were concerned, but they weren’t worried. We beat the Nazis, they told us. We surely won’t allow the terrorists to destroy our way of life.

And we didn’t. We didn’t allow the terrorists to win.

But I do wonder, if our divisions will do what the Nazis, the Soviets and the terrorists couldn’t do. And I’m not alone in my worry.

Right here at home, there is so much paranoia and mistrust. So much division.

Who’s behind this group? Who’s behind that candidate?

MAGA people will save our nation. MAGA people will destroy America.

We speculate on social media. We make things up. We try and hurt each other. And often, we succeed. To what end?

There wasn’t so much of that back in the day. There was some of it, but for the most part we got most of what we aimed to do over the finish line. The theme of the commission I served on was “community unity.” It was a phrase coined by Commissioner Alberta McCarthy that we happily embraced and truly believed in.

Did we achieve that lofty ideal?
Do you ever?
Maybe the best aspirations are always just out of reach. Maybe they are designed to be big enough to never quite be achievable but exciting enough so that you never stop trying.

Of course, there was no social media back in those days but that’s not really the problem. It’s a tool. You can use a hammer to build something or you can hit someone over the head. It’s how we use the tool that matters.

I like Facebook. I get to wish my friends a happy birthday, share pictures of Gracie our new golden retriever and I have an opportunity to see what old and new friends are doing. Heck, the platform even helped my little bird Bailey get rescued last week. (It’s a long story and a good one, it will be in the next book or an upcoming blog).

Nope, there’s something else in the water.

As I read through my book, I remembered anonymous emails, mailings and rumors designed to divide us, frighten us, and misrepresent some of the work being done in town.

It was there. It could be vicious, but it was an aberration not a way of life.

And when our local government pushed back with the facts, those facts were embraced and believed. Local government was trusted by residents who knew the men and women who worked at City Hall.  There was a base level of faith in institutions.

They knew their local government wasn’t perfect. They knew that mistakes would be made but they also assumed –correctly— that the people working at City Hall were trying their best. You may have been angry that Mayor Schmidt (one heck of a mayor by the way) favored moving Atlantic High School, but most people didn’t think he meant to do the city harm.

In fact, I think one of the reasons the more vehement opponents of that move failed to defeat those who favored the new school was because they assumed a corrupt rationale for the policy. There was none.

Like the idea or not, most citizens understood that the policymakers serving the city loved Delray Beach. We just had a different vision for the future.

I’m not sure if that’s true today. I’m not sure elected officials or government employees get the benefit of the doubt anymore. Check that, I’m sure that they don’t.

That’s a fundamental shift. And that’s sad.

Yes, many of the aforementioned have earned the distrust of their constituents. But what about the good ones? And what about our system?

Do we trust it, does it still serve us. Why aren’t we attracting better leaders to do the important work of building community?

So, yes, I miss the old days of trust, aspiration, partnership and yes love.

We were a place where you could feel embraced because you were. And that meant everything.

I didn’t write about Old School Square’s demise in the new/old book. But I did write about its importance as an idea and as an object of civic pride. The restoration and revitalization of those historic buildings were important to the evolution of our town and our civic culture. It was not only important it was elemental. And we just flushed it away.

Hundreds of donors and volunteers—likely thousands— feel an attachment to that campus and the non-profit that created and breathed new life into those old and once decrepit buildings.

The Delray I knew and wrote about wouldn’t have handled the issue the way it was dealt with recently.

If audits were late, there would have been an inquiry and a sit down. If performance lagged there would have been a series of meetings and a pledge to work together to fix what was wrong.

The efforts of volunteers and donors would have been acknowledged and more importantly respected.  There would have been love (tough if need be) and room for thanks as well.

We are devoid of those fundamental building blocks of community today both here and across our great land. Nobody but the corrupt fears accountability. But respect, gratitude and yes love are the table stakes behind anything of value or it won’t last.

I took a visit back to that world I wrote about. And I didn’t want to leave it. I live in the same exact place but somehow, I feel very far from home.

If you want to take a peek back at that Delray here’s a link: https://www.amazon.com/Adventures-Local-Politics-Jeff-Perlman/dp/1736105167/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1RNPO1P6WQWTY&keywords=adventures+in+local+politics+jeff+perlman&qid=1655317745&sprefix=%2Caps%2C53&sr=8-1

 

Congratulations

Delray Beach Police Detective Paul Pitti retired last week after 25 years of distinguished service to our community.

I met Paul at the beginning of his career, and it was clear to all those who worked with him that he was going places in the department.

I happened to talk last week with one of Paul’s former supervisors and he said Detective Pitti was one the “best men I ever had a chance to supervise.” High praise indeed because we have been fortunate to have a bunch of great men and women serve and protect us.

Blessed with a great personality, a wonderful sense of humor and a ton of skill, Paul was a valuable contributor everywhere he was assigned.

Fortunately, he won’t be going too far. Paul will become a Highland Beach Police Officer going to work for Chief Craig Hartmann, also a former Delray officer.

We wish Paul the best. Highland Beach is getting a good one.

On a sad note, we learned last week that retired Delray Police Officer Mike Kosick has passed away.

Mike was one of the early downtown police officers assigned to keep an eye on things when Atlantic Avenue began to pop. He also distinguished himself during several undercover assignments.

We mourn his loss.

Speaking of our Police Department, my company CDS International Holdings was proud to be one of many sponsors of the annual Delray Citizens for Delray Police Awards Dinner recently.

Thanks to the herculean efforts of Perry Don Francisco and Chuck Halberg, the banquet has become a favorite event bringing together current officers and retirees to celebrate the best of the PD.

This year, Sgt. Andrew Arena, Capt. John-Crane Baker, Lt. Scott McGuire and Detective Pitti were honored for their long service to the department.

Administrative Assistant Stacy Tarantino was recognized at the 2021 “Patricia Taylor Employee of the Year” and Detective Anthony Sala was named 2021 Officer of the Year.

Service Award recipients were Sgt. Paul Weber, Executive Administrative Assistant Beatrice Screciu and Administrative Assistant Patricia Swain.

We are blessed to have such a wonderful police department. Our Fire Rescue department is also top-notch. It’s so important that we recognize these special people.

 

A Valentine & A Letter Too

We can sure use some can’t we?

Note: A couple of things.

First, we want to offer our heartfelt condolences to the Randolph family on the loss of their beloved matriarch Mary.

Mrs. Randolph passed last week, a day after her 64th wedding anniversary to her sweetheart David.

David and Mary Randolph are local legends. David served two stints during two different eras on the city commission and became forever known as “the commissioner” to his legions of admirers. But Mrs. Randolph was a force in her own right.  She was universally admired and known for her strength and devotion to her family and community. She will be dearly missed.

This week, I wanted to wish you all a Happy Valentine’s Day and wrap up my recent obsession with the fate of Old School Square with a Valentine to its founder and an open letter to our City Manager. Unless something grabs me and compels me to write, we will let this story unfold in the courts and ultimately at the ballot box. Meanwhile, thanks for your overwhelming response to this series of essays on OSS. Your comments mean a lot and are deeply appreciated. So here goes..

 

I want to send a heartfelt  Valentine to someone who is very special to all of us.

Her name is Frances Bourque and she happens to be the founder of Old School Square.

But she is so much more than that to those of us who love her. She’s a leader. She’s an inspiration and she’s a case study in grace.

She’s also a fighter even though her first million instincts would be to seek peace before conflict.

But she’s also adept at standing her ground. When faced with adversity she summons reserves that few others possess and it is that strength that I and so many others have come to deeply admire.

Frances has not had an easy six months.

Her life’s work, Old School Square, has been threatened by three members of a City Commission who just don’t appreciate what that place means to this community. OSS had the doors locked on their generosity and creativity last week. Another mean spirited insult hurled at the community non-profit six months after a 3-2 vote terminated their lease after 32 years of dedicated service to Delray.

I can’t get in the  head space of the mayor and two commissioners who made this decision; 11,000 plus petitioners who objected can’t either, but what bothers me most is that none of the three have managed to say a kind word about Frances.

It’s shameful.

But this is a Valentine, so let me say a few kind words.

First, we stand on the shoulders of those who came before us.

That’s why 8 former mayors jumped at the chance to sign a letter because they valued Frances’ creation and ideas.

Many of us have benefitted from Frances’ wisdom, advice and inspiration.

None more than me. Maybe a few equal, but none more.

I have adored Frances for three decades, hung on her every word and found a way forward as a result.

As someone who is passionate about leadership, I’m in awe of Frances’ affect on people. Her ability to motivate, inspire and get us to think that anything was possible.

It was those skills that enabled her to gain support to restore a dilapidated old school that catalyzed the rebirth of our city.

It’s ironic that her unique  ability to spell out and sell a vision fell on deaf ears and hardened hearts. But that’s not Frances’ fault or shortcoming. This failure to get together and save a treasured community asset is on the city.

What a sad time this is. We are so divided. We are so lost.

Some are so lost they don’t even know they are lost. Nope, just the opposite, they beat their chest as a treasured asset goes dark. Wow.

But through these last miserable months. Through all the lies. Through all the indignities that really make the city look bad, I have been watching Frances and the rest of the board and staff of Old School Square.

These are some really special people.

They have been surrounded by love and support from a great cross section of the community and that has given them strength.

They leave with their heads held high.

Nobody is giving up. Least of all Frances.

If anything, these travails have made us realize once again how much she is loved and valued.

When we lack love and empathy in our community as we do now, we value love and empathy even more.

When the darkness comes, as it did last week, when the city came with locks to make sure those who really love the place can’t have access anymore, we search for light.

Frances is the brightest of those lights.

She deserves a Valentine’s from all who value what this town was and could be again. So happy Valentine’s Day Frances. We love and appreciate you more now than ever.

Now for the letter…

Dear City Manager Moore,

We haven’t met.

I did write to welcome you to town when you got the job.

I also emailed you when you sent a letter to the community about Old School Square that I thought was “political”. I wanted to caution you that being political is the easiest way for a City Manager to lose their job. Since you are the 9th manager to serve in the post since David Harden retired in 2012 (after 22 years on the job) it’s fair to say that your role comes with a fair amount of risk.

Many of your predecessors have left on bad terms, filing lawsuits after they’ve been axed. They’ve found that road difficult and expensive. There really is something to be said about the old adage: “you can’t fight City Hall.”

After all, we have to fight with our own money, while the city gets to use the taxpayer’s money.

This sure is a good town for lawyers, especially one firm, which seems to get a great deal of business.

But I digress.

This letter is an offer to help.

It has been six months since the Commission voted 3-2 to terminate Old School Square, the community non-profit that ran that complex on the corner of Atlantic and Swinton for 32 years. 3-2, and 32—kind of ironic how that works.

Anyway, it seems like you’ve had some difficulty figuring out what to do with OSS which was programmed by volunteers right up until the city showed up with police and put locks on the doors February 10.

Question: Can we the citizens also call on our police to enforce our leases?

Just asking.

Sorry, I’m veering off topic.

Again, it seems like there’s been some puzzling over what to do with the buildings now that the folks who created the place have been kicked to the curb.

You issued a Request for Proposals that for some reason didn’t include the Cornell Museum and nobody responded.

Have you ever been to the Cornell?

It was nice, especially when Margaret Blume stepped up with a generous gift to make it look spectacular. She also made a big donation to redo the Crest Theatre and to build a much needed and long coveted commercial kitchen. That project was stopped dead in its tracks, a month before completion. Did that make sense? It was paid for, now we the taxpayers will have to pay for it. All of this is lost on me and about 11,000 others who signed a petition asking the city to slow down and talk.

Oh well. That ship has sailed.

I was in the Cornell a day before you guys put the locks on the building and the museum was stripped bare. Walls that were once adorned with beautiful art are now empty. The building seemed sad, is that possible?  I think it is. It’s as if its soul was removed and I guess it has been, hasn’t it?

I know you may not agree with me (and 11,000 others who feel that this was a terrible decision) or you’re not allowed to agree. I do understand how your job works. You’re tasked with carrying out the will of the majority of your bosses—those three elected officials who voted to terminate. That can’t be easy.

But after 6 months and an RFP that produced a goose egg, it seems like you are still fishing around for a solution so I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest one.

But before I do, I understand you are being pitched a rich consulting deal from somebody with big experience in the corporate side of entertainment. I’m sure he’s a great asset, but I would caution you about expenses and cutting the public out of this process. Losing the community non-profit is a big deal, turning the place over to a for-profit interest or an out of town non-profit would also be a blow to our community. I’d also watch for expenses, historically the non-profit you guys kicked to the curb raised 75-80 percent of the expenses. A city run facility would take on 100 percent of the costs. I guess you could raise ticket prices, but remember OSS offered free and heavily subsidized entertainment options.

Anyway, once again, here’s a thought to consider.

It’s a radical idea but I know you must get a lot of those. I was once a public official, and I actually kept a file of some of the more creative concepts that came across my desk. My favorite was from a guy who wanted to pave over the sand on the beach because it would allow for greater access to the ocean for those who didn’t want to get sand in their shoes. We passed on that one.

I hope you think this idea is a little better. Here goes.

How about we create a community-based non-profit consisting of local volunteers who love Delray? The non-profit can seek donations from philanthropists, sponsorships from businesses and can sell tickets to offset 80 percent or so of the city’s costs.

I think this business model might just work. It may be worth a try.

Delray Beach was built by dedicated citizens who are passionate about the community. Old School Square can serve as a gathering place for our community. We may want to host free Friday night concerts, program the theatre, host exhibits, offer classes and use the fieldhouse for special events. If we finish the commercial kitchen, we may attract more weddings etc., and we can train the next generation of culinary talent to serve our burgeoning restaurant scene.

It seems like the city has an urge to take on more and more these days, so maybe there can be a partnership between the city and this community non-profit where you provide some operational and financial acumen.

It may be worth a shot.

Now this may seem to be eerily similar to what has worked for 32 years, but I assure you that’s pure coincidence.

Thanks for your kind consideration.

Warmest Regards,

Jeff Perlman

 

 

The Final Chapter Yet To Be Written

Old School Square has inspired a generation of artists in Delray.

People make places special.That was the thought that went through my mind Friday night as I watched the magnificent Valerie Tyson Band wow the crowd at the Old School Square Pavilion. The event was billed as “Turn the Tide”— a last ditch effort by a group of incredible civic contributors—the best this town has to offer—to change the minds of three Delray Beach elected officials who have decided to pull the plug on the organization after 32 years of dedicated and distinguished service.

But the minds won’t change. And so the music will stop—for now anyway.

So will the arts classes, museum exhibits, speaker series, plays and shows hosted— and largely paid for— by Old School Square.After six months of pleading for  a chance to sit down and work it out,  the fight will now go to the courts and eventually the ballot box.If 11,000 plus petitioners, hundreds of emails and scores of citizens showing up at City Hall over the past six months won’t change  the minds of elected officials who are out of step with their own constituents, a magical night of music at the pavilion won’t either.How sad.What a waste of time, money and energy.

It’s tragic when the arts and community building are on the outs and the only “winners” are lawyers making a killing litigating and defending the city on this and other issues.But this is where we are these days.Yes, we are still waiting for a plan from a brand new City Manager who has been tasked with solving and budgeting for a problem manufactured by three elected officials who decided to end three decades of hard work by volunteers who love this town without consulting the community they purport to serve.Why?

On Friday night, we saw video testimonials from volunteers, Old School Square staff, donors and artists who are asking that same question.

Commissioner Juli Casale, who supposedly aspires to be our next mayor, has been telling residents that Old School Square has not produced documents, has failed to comply with city dictates and that the group has been mean and unkind after she voted to kick to them to the curb without consulting the public.Well, welcome to politics and to life. In the real world, when you kneecap someone you shouldn’t be surprised when they  defend themselves.

“Thank you sir may I have another” may be a great line in the movie Animal House after a pledge gets spanked. But this isn’t Faber College and you shouldn’t expect dedicated volunteers to slink off into the ether because you’ve decided you don’t like them and that they haven’t done a good job. Lots of others do like this group and think they have done a terrific job.

In the six months since OSS was booted for “no cause” the community non-profit has been bullied and lied about.The newly politicized CRA —also taken over without public input by the commission—has become complicit. It’s painful to see the pains the agency has gone through to deny Old School Square grant money the non-profit has earned for services already rendered.

To those keeping score at home, it’s personally painful for me to point out the bad behavior of a city government that I once led and long believed in.But it is precisely because I love this city that I do so.

Thankfully, I’m not alone.

And while more stakeholders are beginning to speak out, some are too scared to speak for fear of retribution.The biggest criticisms come from city employees who describe a a climate of fear and dysfunction at City Hall. I would respectfully suggest that our new City Manager, the 9th in recent years, has better things to do than to deploy Parks employees to produce Bar Mitzvahs in the OSS Fieldhouse. He has a lot of repairs to do in his own building.

But while I sympathize with his plight, we keep waiting for his grand plan for OSS now that his Request for Proposals to take it over yielded zero interest.He may want to take the suggestions of every living former mayor— those who were elected and served a term— to seek public input on the future of the site. That’s the true Delray way. Get the community involved. It worked for decades until this nonsense arrived on the scene. Why won’t they ask our citizens for ideas?

Is it because the public may endorse the current business model: a community based non-profit?But I digress.

Pardon me for getting emotional, but I get worked up when I see our best citizens struggle to make sense of this terrible decision. In between songs Friday night, Valerie Tyson, who has played OSS many times, stopped and addressed the audience. She talked about how much she has enjoyed performing for this community and she talked about legacy and responsibility.

We stand on the shoulders of those who came before us, she said.

She was referring to the men and women who conceived and built Old School Square. They breathed new life into a struggling city.These people built community. There is nothing more valuable than that. Nothing.

We talk about being a village. We talk about creating a sense of place but being a village is about more than the height of a building downtown, it’s about how we treat each other. We expect our leaders to call on our better angels. We expect them to engage us in a discussion about the type of community we aspire to be.

This kind of leadership is absent and it is what we long for.

OSS has been referred to as a management company.

They are not.

They are a community based non-profit dedicated to this city and the arts.These are the people who had the idea to restore those buildings and breathe new life into them. They invited artists to paint on the lawn, actors to perform on the stage, residents to take classes and musicians to perform.

Old School Square became the place we turned to when we needed community the most.

We gathered at OSS to celebrate All America City wins, host Town Hall meetings and plan our downtown.  And when we were devastated by 9/11, the shooting of Jerrod Miller (17 years ago this month) and the Parkland shootings we gathered at Old School Square and found solace in one another.

If you take the community out of our gathering place, what do you have?

If you bring in the Boca Museum of Art in to run OUR cultural centerpiece what do you have? And what we will lose?

If you chase donors and volunteers away because they were late on an audit during an historic pandemic when their auditor quit on them what message are you sending?

The audits are current and clean now. Why can’t we talk about the future? It’s a question we all ought to be asking. Who’s next if we don’t stand together and turn the tide?People make places special. They also have the power to ruin them.It’s our choice. We stand for what we tolerate.