As we get ready to celebrate Gold Coast magazine’s 50th anniversary in April, one of the reflections over the decades is the decline of The Miami Herald. When we arrived in 1970, the Herald set the agenda for Broward County, and much of the state. It had several offices outside Miami, including a major presence on Sunrise Boulevard near Holiday Park. It routinely out-covered the Fort Lauderdale News (now Sun-sentinel) in Broward.
Those days are long gone, and there is no better example of that than yesterday’s Herald Business Monday section, which had a cover story on the explosive growth of glossy regional magazines in South Florida. True enough. In 1965, there were only two such magazines – ours and Palm Beach Life, which is still published occasionally by Cox Newspapers, owner of the The Palm Beach Post. Today, between Miami and Vero Beach, there are at least 40 lifestyle magazines, including six of Gulfstream Media Group’s. We aren't complaining too loudly because our related company's software package, The Magazine Manager, goes to hundreds of regional magazines, many much like ours. And, in addition to our six print publications, all lifestyle magazines have a large digital and social media presence.
Monday’s Herald story mentioned numerous publications and listed various companies active in the field. But indicative of its lack of attention to Broward County, it did not mention us – the oldest and most successful magazine publisher in the area. We suspect that the writer, Cindy Krischer Goodman, may not even know we exist. If she has ever seen a copy of Gold Coast, Fort Lauderdale Monthly (our visitors version), Boca Life Magazine, The Palm Beacher, Jupiter Magazine or Stuart Magazine, she probably did not take the trouble to see who published them. In a story that mentioned so many titles and companies (it took up four and a half pages), it seems an inexcusable lack of leg work. One can’t imagine the old Herald being so irresponsible.
Example: Goodman called Ocean Drive the “grandfather” of local magazines. It started around 1990, a mere 25 years after Gold Coast.
We wonder if Goodman looked into the mentioned magazines' circulations. We doubt many other publications come remotely close to our recent postage bill for one issue – $17,481. And we know exactly who gets those copies. In contrast, so many of the new glossies drop off copies to advertisers and then stack up the rest of their free publications in restaurants and bars. We know our readers’ profiles in detail. What does a stack-up publication know, except that some drunk may have walked out with a copy of their book?
Many people ask us why there are so many magazines. The answer is that technology has made them easy to start, and too few advertisers demand proof of circulation. The Herald would do the advertising community and readers in general a real service if it took the time to ask some questions.
It was the morning of March 29, 1977. Gaeton Fonzi showed up at the office. Usually the personification of low key, he seemed a little more animated than usual. We went back a long way. We met in the early 1960s in an army reserve unit, and he got us into magazine work at Philadelphia magazine. We came to Florida together and he had been our editor at Miami Magazine. When we got out of it, he began working for government committees that had reopened the investigation into the murder of President Kennedy. He had gotten a tip that a man who could be a valuable source was visiting near Palm Beach. He had a name of a resident, but could not find an address.
Maggie Walker, our very southern associate editor, overheard our conversation.
“Gaeton,” she said, “why don’t you try the social register?” She had an old one for Palm Beach, and sure enough, the name Fonzi was looking for was in it. Tilton. In Manalapan. He was off.
What happened next was all over CNN yesterday in connection with the Fox news star, Bill O’Reilly. Fonzi went to the address in Manalapan. The man he was looking for, George de Mohrenschildt, was not there. His daughter said he was in Palm Beach. Fonzi left his card, identifying himself as an investigator for the House Select Committee on Assassinations. When de Mohrenschildt returned and saw Fonzi’s card, he blew his brains out.
We don’t know how much Fonzi knew about the man at that time, but he was eventually to learn (he worked on this matter for almost 20 years) that de Mohrenschildt was friendly with Lee Harvey Oswald, the accused JFK assassin. In fact, de Mohrenschildt was a longtime CIA asset who seems to have played a role in setting up Oswald to take the blame for the murder. There are indications he was under great stress when Fonzi came calling. He must have figured the game was up. He killed himself.
Now for Bill O’Reilly. O’Reilly had done some freelance work for us in Miami when he was a grad student. He and Fonzi remained in touch after O’Reilly got into television. O’Reilly, working in Dallas, was interested in the Kennedy assassination and knew Fonzi was working on it. The CNN spot takes it from there: CNN Report.
As the years passed, Fonzi and O’Reilly remained in touch. In fact, Fonzi played a role in getting O’Reilly his big break in New York. He recommended him to a TV executive he knew. On at least one occasion, O’Reilly visited Fonzi at his home in Miami Beach. He arrived in a limo. Later, Fonzi wrote an amusing piece for Gold Coast magazine on how the brash O’Reilly walked into our Miami office one day and announced he was our new film critic.
Although he personally liked O’Reilly, Fonzi was increasingly disappointed in his work at the corrupt Fox News operation. The O’Reilly he had known as an ambitious, idealistic young guy in Miami was not the same Bill O’Reilly who became the popular mouthpiece for Fox’s slanted version of the news. Fox, and O’Reilly, became a joke among serious journalists.
Gaeton Fonzi had a knack for saying profound things in a few words. Not long before he died two years ago, he summed up O’Reilly: “Bill took the money.”
Seventy-one years and two days after he almost died, Ron Roth-Watts did. His call came in the night last week, in a Fort Lauderdale retirement home. His mind and body gave out about the same time, and in his last months, he could not recall his war record.
It was impressive. Ronald Leslie Roth-Watts joined the British Navy at the beginning of World War II. He was still a teenager, with an interest in photography. His technical talents got him into sonar – the nautical equivalent of radar – at a time when very few knew what is was about. Fortunately, the British did, and it saved them in their finest hour.
Ron served on four British ships during the war. His ships took part in the invasions of North Africa, Italy and Normandy. It was off Anzio, in the Italian campaign, that he dodged the bullet, or more accurately a torpedo. He was aboard the cruiser H.M.S. Penelope on Feb. 18, 1944, when a German U-boat hit her with two torpedoes. The ship went down in 11 minutes. Ron’s normal sonar station was below decks, where he would likely have been a goner. But that day, he was delivering a message topside. He simply stepped off the deck into the water as the ship slipped under. He claimed the enemy sub surfaced, and Ron, now in the water, got off a curse.
“You bostids,” he shouted, “you sank my camera.” He was one of 206 of a crew of 623 to survive. He went on to sail and fight another day. Interestingly, when he spoke of his war experiences, he seemed proudest of being part of a group from his ship that, when berthed in North Africa, got the task of fixing a bunch of broken down Italian trucks that had been captured after the Axis surrender.
“We got them all running,” he liked to say.
The camera he lost when his ship went down was a Leica, which he had just acquired. It was one of the best cameras in the world – but it was not his last. After the war, he became a successful photographer. He was among the pool of photographers assigned to the Royal Family, and to his last days, he kept magazine shots he had taken of princesses and future queens.
He moved to Canada, then to the U.S. in the 1950s. He worked out of New York for numerous important companies. He specialized in interior design photography, and his work appeared in Architectural Digest and later, when he came to Florida, for our Gold Coast magazine. He also taught at the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale.
That was in the 1970s, when the photo above was taken. At the time, he was one of the best photographers in his field. His work in our magazine attracted the attention of interior designers and developers, and he had a good run for the next decade or so. Technology began to pass him by, at least as a photographer, but he never lost his flair for things mechanical. He was very good with cars, and jobs that most of us wouldn’t touch – such as replacing a radiator, or fixing electrical stuff – he did routinely. Our company turned over a well-used Chevy to him in the late ’70s and he kept it running for years. He also built his own home computer.
He had been married, and kept a photo of a pretty girl he said was his daughter. She might have been a stepdaughter. He didn’t say much about his immediate family, although he had an interest in his British past. He said the Roth part of his name came from a Jewish background, but he also spoke of a relative who was a Catholic monk in Ireland. He had a brother who visited about 20 years ago. He was a bit of a bounder, as the Brits say, and outstayed his welcome. Ron did not seem sorry to see him depart. The brother died, and after that Ron could find no relatives.
He remained physically active until his last few years. With his photography years behind him, he did some part-time work for our company in the graphics department. Even at advanced age, he was quick to pick up new technology. His vision and hearing declined, but he was a walking fool. You would see him all over town. He once got bored (he couldn’t hear in the crowd) at a party at the Lauderdale Yacht Club and left unannounced, walking to his apartment near the Galleria. He was pushing 90 when he fell crossing Sunrise and couldn’t get up. Two good Samaritans stopped their cars and helped him to the sidewalk. He was disoriented and one of the drivers stayed with him for several hours until the police could identify him.
He made it another 18 months. His most interesting life ended at 91 ½. Not bad for a bloke who almost lost it in 1944.
The kid is built like spring steel, and with hair close cut; he looks like what he is – a young guy waiting to leave the hospitality industry to go on active duty, and can’t count the days until he does.
“You would be willing to go over to Iraq?” he's asked.
“That’s probably where I’ll wind up,” he says, giving no indication that he would not welcome that assignment.
It got us thinking about something we threw out as a half-joke not long ago – the idea of forming a special international force of volunteers to do what no country seems willing to do on its own – put boots on the ground in the Middle East. Countries seem willing to do everything but that. They supply modern aircraft, drones and missiles whose names we haven’t even heard yet. But they're not sending people to actually go in and eliminate the barbarians whose daily acts of savagery stun the civilized world.
And that is the operative word. Civilization. What if a call went out for men to defend the values the Western World has established over the last thousand years? Not from just one country, but from anywhere where people are willing to risk their lives for civilization. We are speaking of people who are morally motivated (probably not a good idea to call them crusaders, or sport red crosses on white tunics. You might mix that up with the Ku Klux Klan).
This is a unit that should be formed by the United Nations, but it won’t be.
We are thinking more of a model along the lines of the French Foreign Legion, which for nearly 200 years has been composed of soldiers from all over. Indeed, the uniforms could resemble those of the Legion, just not quite so peacock-y – the kepi hat, which in the U.S. service was once known as the Ridgway cap, with a neck cloth. Of course, in battle, they would look just like our current soldiers, with all the body armor and face shields that have become international.
These would be soldiers of fortune, a breed that never seems to go out of existence – men who ignore those “Wounded Warrior” ads that feature maimed veterans, and see only the adventure of being in harm’s way. We suspect an elite unit could be quickly formed of men with military experience, ex-marines, army rangers and those from equivalent units in other countries.
They would have to be paid grandly, and supplied with the best of equipment (which seems to be no problem), and part of an elite outfit, whose feats would surely be the subject of Hollywood treatment. Mostly, however, they would be motivated to counter, in Churchill’s words at a different time, the world sinking into “the abyss of a new dark age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science.”
If ISIS can attract thousands of recruits with a malformed concept of human behavior, can’t the free world find just as many good guys who have the right stuff?
Fort Lauderdale's St. Thomas Aquinas High School has developed a reputation as one of the best athletic schools in the country. It routinely wins the All-Sports Award from the Sun-Sentinel and Miami Herald, and recently one of those outlets that compares teams around the country named it the third best athletic school in the nation.
That standing has been enhanced in the last year, as its track team won both boys and girls big school state championships last spring, followed by the football team in the fall, volleyball and softball, and just last weekend the girls soccer team won its 14th state championship. You read that right. Although its football coaches have built a dynasty, winning eight state titles since 1992 in a state with numerous strong high school programs, they are not even close to St. Thomas' winning-est coach. Carlos Giron came to the school in 1982, and in addition to his 14 state championships in girls soccer, he set a record for consecutive games without a loss. From 1994 to 2001 the Raiders went unbeaten in 158 games. That's a record that may last until eternity. The nearest team is a Texas school with 115.
To put that in perspective, this year's state champions had one loss and a tie, both to Broward County schools. And it isn't as if South Florida schools are pushovers in soccer. To the contrary, Broward's American Heritage (which tied St. Thomas) won the state 3A title – its eighth championship. And Cypress Bay defeated St. Thomas in mid-season, only to lose in a hard fought regional playoff game.
A cynic looking at these records might surmise that girls’ soccer is like football, where a few elite programs attract the best players, sometimes from distant locales, and benefit from transfers. Both St. Thomas and American Heritage got some of the area's top football players last year when University School lost its coach, and saw a mass exodus of talented players wanting to be on a winning team, with the exposure that brings to college recruiters. St. Thomas’ reputation for strong academics as well as sports has created a tradition of attracting sons and grandsons of well-known South Florida football families. It includes names such as Shula, Duhe, Bosa and Carter. Many of those top prospects, especially from lower income families, are on scholarship.
Girls’ soccer is different. None of the St. Thomas players receive financial aid other than what they would normally get without athletics. More than 20 percent of the school's students get some aid. Nor is it a case of kids moving to the area or taking long trips to reach the school. Five of St. Thomas' best players this year came from one grade school – the downtown St. Anthony Parish. That's only fitting, for Central Catholic, St. Thomas's name until the 1960s, started at St. Anthony. Most of the other players come from neighborhoods that have historically sent kids to St. Thomas.
One of Carlos Giron's coaching talents – at least this year – is his ability to build depth on his roster. He substitutes a lot compared to other teams, especially at the positions that involve the most running. Three of his wins enroute to the title fit a pattern. The opponents started strong, dominating early in the game. But by halftime, you could sense a momentum shift, and in the second half his fresh legs began to tell. This was especially true in the championship win over Oviedo, near Orlando. That team used few subs and after an impressive first half, it began to tire. St. Thomas shots on goal built; it was 19-6 at the end. And finally with five minutes to go, the Raiders broke through for a 2-0 win.
In the spirit of the Brian Williams Candor School, we must admit that this detailed knowledge of this matter comes with a price. That price is confessing that one of the St. Thomas players has a name similar to ours. Of course, she is no relative, except our son’s daughter.
The thaw in relations between the United States and Cuba should have at least one predictable result: an increase in American tourists, the first 10,000 of whom will be CIA agents. Now the Cubans may be many things, but they are not stupid. We can be assured they will be anxious to welcome our spies with good expense accounts.
We can soon expect this scene at Cuban ports of entry.
Cuban official: “Buenas. Welcome to Cuba. Here for a holiday?”
Visitor: “Nada, CIA.”
Official: “Wonderful. Welcome Comrade Spook. Please register at the line over there – the one marked CIA.”
The visitor proceeds to the appropriate line, which moves along smartly until he is greeted by Cuba’s CIA host official.
Official: “Welcome to Cuba, CIA host reception. My name is Jose Gimenez. That’s pronounced Ho-say. As in Ho Say can you see by the dawn’s early light. Now what are you interested in seeing – historic missile sites, the KBG Bath and Tennis Club, political prisoner detention facilities, the Fidel classic car museum?”
Visitor: A little bit of everything, thank you. This is my first visit.”
Official: “Si. And what is your name?”
Visitor: “Maurice Bishop.”
Official: “The Maurice Bishop? – The guy who covered up the Kennedy Assassination?”
Visitor: “No, he’s dead. We all use the name Maurice Bishop. It goes back to the game of chess, you know. Just a little play on words to break up the monotony.”
Official: “Si. But I see no Maurice Bishop name on our stolen confidential list of CIA operatives.”
Visitor: “You never will. You won’t find Lee Harvey Oswald on any records, either.”
Official: “Si. See, the past is behind us. Let us concentrate on improving relations between our two great countries. To further that end, we have a special CIA visitor goody bag. It contains a signed photograph of Meyer Lansky – a reminder of the good old days – a medallion of appreciation from the Cuban Siete Commandment Society for letting our thieves rip off Medicare and anything else they can in your country, and a few tokens to use in your travels.
Visitor: “Gracias. What are these tokens for?”
Official: “This one is for Happy Hour at the Castro Brothers Brothel. You get two for one. This one gets you a free photograph with a 1952 Studebaker at the Fidel Classic Car Museum. And this one gets you a discount on a mule ride up San Juan Hill.”
Visitor: "And what about this one with the little bulls eye on it?”
Official: “That's for admission to a firing squad.”
Visitor: “But who’s?”
Official: “That’s up to you, senor.”
Visitor: “Si, I see.”
Imagine if nobody watched – just one game, one time. It would probably cause the failure of the National Football League, and fulfill the frequent prophecies of the end of the world.
We refer, of course, to the controversy surrounding the Super Bowl. A recent study of 6,000 bars and grills between Jupiter and Miami revealed that not a single person above the age of reason believes God was responsible for deflating footballs in a recent Boston Patriots game. All believe it was cheating. Nobody believes that prominent members of the Patriots organization did not know about it. Most fans are concerned; some are outraged.
So what do we, as a nation, do about it? Nothing. We tune in to watch the Super Bowl and before that we audit countless television and radio reports, and read everything written about the subject. But suppose, however, people just said no. They skipped the game, didn’t read anything about the controversy and did not even know who won.
Imagine if just one world leader, say President Obama, or Madonna, or Dave Barry, stood up and screamed, “We’re not taking it anymore!” and called for a total boycott of this event. We would do it, except nobody reads this blog. You need a world leader to engineer something like this.
Imagine if it happened. All of those expensive TV commercials would be seen by no one. All of those lizards and ducks that are featured in those stupid spots would quack into a vacuum. The thousands of people who pay hundreds of dollars for tickets would not show up; all of those hotel rooms would be canceled. The airlines would be asked for refunds. Rental cars would sit mournfully on their lots. Millions of dollars would be lost. Six thousand bars and grills between Jupiter and Miami would be empty for a day. The economy would collapse.
We happened to see one Super Bowl live. It was in 1971 between the Baltimore Colts and somebody else. The Colts won on a late field goal. It showed what an impact one game can have on a career. Don Shula had built the Colts into a power, but he did not coach that day. He had moved to Miami and nobody has heard from him since.
Over the years, however, we have decided the game is not all that important. Who really cares about the Patriots against the Seahawks, except that Ken Behring, Tamarac’s founder, once owned the latter? This is not a real rivalry, not like, say, the Patriots playing Boston College, or Tufts or Wellesley College, which would be natural local rivals. It cannot compare with La Salle vs. St. Joe tonight at Tom Gola Arena; La Salle favored by six; or, the big soccer game tonight at Brian Piccolo Stadium between St. Thomas and Cypress Bay. No line available at press time.
Now these are events the world should watch, and we can only make one because of the big snowstorm up north. But come Sunday, we plan a one-person boycott of the Super Bowl. On principle, we will not watch that game. Of course, we lie a lot.
Among the great qualities of the Cuban people who are so abundant in South Florida, one trait that is widely suspected, but rarely noted in the media is this: Many people think they rank among the greatest thieves who ever lived.
