Should Old Acquaintances Be Forgot…1
When you reach the age of four score and ten, you begin to think, if you're thinking at all, of people who touched your life in your early days in Florida. In 1970, I made the deal to buy what turned into Gold Coast magazine. I spent a lot of time in those first months at the Galt Ocean Mile Hotel. It was owned by Leonard Mercer, who had made the deal to purchase a magazine then known as Pictorial Life. Alas, he didn't have the money to pay for it — thus our involvement. At the time, the Galt had a popular entertainer named Blackie Nelson, and next door at the Beach Club, Woody Woodbury was an established star.
Woody Woodbury, pushing 103 and still proud of his military service.
Blackie Nelson moved to Blowing Rock, North Carolina, where he entertained at the historic Green Park Inn and later at his own restaurant, Winston's. He died in 2009. Woody Woodbury, however, remained a popular entertainer for years. He's now pushing 103 and still very sharp. I had a brief conversation with him in which he said, "I'm pretty lucky." He had just come from breakfast with five people.
Woody, for those who forget, had a military background. He flew Marine F9 Panther jets in Korea. He was in the same unit as baseball legend Ted Williams and was on the flight where Williams brought his damaged and flaming aircraft in for a dramatic wheels-up landing.
Woodbury is not the only prominent person to pass the 100 hurdle. Joe Amaturo, who died recently, was 102. For some strange reason, his death, which should have been front-page news, was not announced for several weeks, resulting in a modest obituary inside the paper.
The author took this photo shortly after Joe Amaturo arrived in Florida.
Amaturo, who made his fortune in radio, arrived in Florida shortly before I did and was the subject of one of our first articles. Years later I learned that Amaturo gave our magazine credit for smoothing his path in an awkward situation. Of course, he went on to become a well-liked figure and one of South Florida's leading philanthropists, particularly generous to Catholic schools.
Amaturo was friendly with another man whose death was not given appropriate coverage in the Sun Sentinel. Monsignor Vincent Kelly, another figure who warranted page-one attention, was not covered at all when he died in late June. Apparently, the paper wants only paid obits.
Monsignor Kelly served Catholic education with grace and vision.
Monsignor Kelly's funeral Mass at St. John's was not as crowded as expected. The explanation was simply that many people did not know he had died — a serious lapse of journalism on the part of the paper.
Kelly's contribution to Catholic education made him one of the most important priests in recent Florida history. He arrived in Florida in 1970 and took over as principal of St. Thomas Aquinas High School. Over the years he built that school into an athletic powerhouse, which is currently ranked number one in the nation. He also maintained high academic standards. In addition, he was pastor of St. John the Baptist Parish in Coral Ridge — the location of rival Cardinal Gibbons. He was a visionary who promoted the foundation concept, which has saved many Catholic parishes in the wake of rising education costs.
At Philadelphia magazine, I found that writing about the media, even our competitors, got a good reaction from readers. Accordingly, when I arrived in Florida, I looked for interesting media figures.
One of the first I noticed was Bill Bondurant, a talented writer who was at the time sports editor of what was then the Fort Lauderdale News. Another I liked was John deGroot, who was writing for the Miami Herald.
Bill Bondurant was featured in a 1971 article.
DeGroot died in 2025, but Bondurant is still with us, living at the Allegro, a high-end assisted living facility in Fort Lauderdale. After the Sun Sentinel, he was an executive with Alamo Leasing. I included Bondurant in the 1971 piece I did on the R.H. Gore family, owners of the paper.
John DeGroot in 1971.
I used to see Bondurant at Nick's Lounge, where everybody hung out. He recalled that I once worked for the paper in Chester, Pa. He asked if I knew an editor there named Joe Jennings, who had applied to the Sun Sentinel. I sure did, and I gave Jennings a strong reference. Jennings in turn brought a reporter named Don Murdaugh with him from Pennsylvania. I knew both well, and their performance in Florida justified our confidence.
Years passed, and I would see the guys at newspaper hangouts. In the mid-1980s, when I was struggling in a lawsuit to regain control of our magazine, I freelanced extensively. One night at a social event, Murdaugh asked if we wanted to be a columnist for the Hollywood Sun-Tattler. When asked if he was hiring for a rival of the Sun Sentinel, he said, "In this case, I am."
I badly needed steady work, and Murdaugh had strongly advised Kevin Boyd, managing editor in Hollywood, to give us the vacant job of feature columnist. Boyd never asked for a sample or even suggested a trial run. He told us to start right away. Such was his respect for Don Murdaugh's opinion. The job was a lifesaver for the next two years, until the Hollywood paper closed. Our modest reference for Joe Jennings and Don Murdaugh was repaid in spades.
Back to Bondurant. He's now in his late 80s and subject to the same normal abnormalities as the rest of us of that vintage. He lost his wife Jane recently, and although using a walker, likes to get out to see the world at lunches.
I wish one of our favorite writers many more lunches. Neither of us are likely to catch up with Woody, but no harm trying.
