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| Grand Central Station |
There were hundreds of them, all over the place. Like most major rail terminals, Grand Central devoted a considerable amount of space for benches where travelers could wait until their train was called. But there were almost no travelers using the benches because homeless people were sprawled every which way in the waiting room, trash around them, aisles blocked by stuffed plastic bags. It was, to one who remembered Grand Central from an earlier time, an appalling scene, something from the third world, a dirty chaotic affront to thousands of travelers, many of them visitors from afar.
Fortunately, for those awaiting trains, there was a place of public refuge. In a mezzanine overlooking the many gates to the tracks, there was a bar, a New York landmark of sorts. It was always busy, especially at rush hour. It was hard to find a seat there and the drinkers were often several deep. No homeless were among that crowd; they couldn’t afford the drink prices.
Now, to people from New York, the homeless situation was no revelation. But to those from outside the city, seeing it for the first time was a shock, for the national news did not pay much attention, and no television satirists mocked the officials who tried to do something about it. And the city did try, constantly removing the people, sometimes busing them to shelters, trying to keep the waiting room orderly and available for travelers. Advocates for the homeless called this heartless, forcing people into the cold nights and citing the constitutional right of poor people to mingle with those better off.
Cops were quoted as feeling constrained; they could not arrest people for simply being in a public place. Some homeless were quoted, saying they did not like public shelters because of the rules. Homeless people do not like rules.
We did not see it firsthand, but eventually over 25 years the situation improved. That is, until recently. News reports on the Internet from last year said the situation at the terminal was returning to the 1980s. One newspaper, clearly no friend of the homeless, described “hobos” picking through trash cans for food. And again, the city was confronted by advocates defending the constitutional right of people to exist where they want to.
To this observer, the situation at Grand Central was light years more serious, and far more of a public nuisance, than what has been happening in Fort Lauderdale, with the efforts of the city to keep homeless from congregating in public parks and being fed on its popular beach. And yet Fort Lauderdale got a storm of bad national press, making the city look callous in its approach to a problem that is growing nationally, and which is not being handled well anywhere.
It has been pointed out that South Florida may be bearing more than its share of the problem, for it is warm and when people drift toward the sun, this is as far as they can go, unless they try Central America. Perhaps that’s what happened to New York’s unfortunates in the 1980s. They may have simply moved to Florida, but probably not by train.
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The recent issue of Gold
Coast and Boca Lifemagazines carried a story on the transformation of Dillard Elementary School in northwest Broward from a failing school to one that is much in demand. Enrollment is the best indication of a community’s response to a school. We failed to note that in just three years under the leadership of Principal Angela Brown, Dillard Elementary has proved so successful that it went from under-enrolled to almost doubling its enrollment to more than 800 students. It is now over-enrolled, and has become one of the larger grade schools in Broward County.
Coast and Boca Lifemagazines carried a story on the transformation of Dillard Elementary School in northwest Broward from a failing school to one that is much in demand. Enrollment is the best indication of a community’s response to a school. We failed to note that in just three years under the leadership of Principal Angela Brown, Dillard Elementary has proved so successful that it went from under-enrolled to almost doubling its enrollment to more than 800 students. It is now over-enrolled, and has become one of the larger grade schools in Broward County. |
| Jason Robards (left) and Ben Bradlee |
The death of legendary Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee a few weeks ago was widely noted, especially in Washington, D.C. where his funeral was the biggest send-off since Tim Russert six years ago. Bradlee was universally praised as a great editor, who took over an average newspaper in the 1960s and turned it into one of the best, exceeded today in influence by only The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. He was the man who broke the Watergate story that brought down an American president. He had the unusual advantage of becoming a media star when Jason Robards captured his appearance and style so vividly in the 1976 film “All the President’s Men.”
Say nothing but good of the dead. However, with the 51st anniversary of President Kennedy’s assassination upon us this weekend, we must note that Ben Bradlee was not a flawless editor. One of the great curiosities of his long tenure at the Post is that for a man who was friendly with JFK, and one who was constantly pushing his paper to greatness, he seemed to take little interest in one of the biggest stories of the 20th century – the murder of an American president.
We will never know exactly why for sure, and it was not until late in his life that Bradlee discussed the matter publicly. In 2007, David Talbot interviewed him for his book, Brothers: The Hidden History of the Kennedy Years, and asked why his paper was not more aggressive in investigating that tragic incident. Bradlee answered vaguely, saying that he was new in his job at the time and was cautious about getting involved in what most people thought was reckless speculation about a high level conspiracy. He was speaking of 1968, five years after the assassination. It took that much time for the first critics to begin gaining credibility with challenges to the Warren Commission’s findings that a lone gunman killed Kennedy.
Very few knew it then, and by 1968 he was also dead, but Robert Kennedy suspected all along that his brother had been killed by a conspiracy of government figures. Whether he ever shared that view with Bradlee is unknown. What we do know is that in 1980, by which time the Washington Post had broken the Pentagon Papers and the Watergate stories, Bradlee was at the top of his game. He had no reason to be insecure. But that was the year a sensational story broke right under his nose, in another publication.
The publication was Washingtonian magazine, which had been around for some time and was widely read throughout D.C., particularly when it covered political matters. It ran a story that appeared at the same time in Gold Coast magazine and its related Florida publication, Indian River Life. The story by Gaeton Fonzi was the result of his five years work for two congressional committees that had reopened the JFK investigation. It began with Pennsylvania Sen. Richard Schweiker, who had made his own examination of the information advanced by various critics. Schweiker concluded that the accused killer, Lee Harvey Oswald, was not the “lone nut” the Warren Commission claimed. Schweiker said Oswald “had the fingerprints of intelligence all over him.” He asked Fonzi to check it out.
Coast magazine and its related Florida publication, Indian River Life. The story by Gaeton Fonzi was the result of his five years work for two congressional committees that had reopened the JFK investigation. It began with Pennsylvania Sen. Richard Schweiker, who had made his own examination of the information advanced by various critics. Schweiker concluded that the accused killer, Lee Harvey Oswald, was not the “lone nut” the Warren Commission claimed. Schweiker said Oswald “had the fingerprints of intelligence all over him.” He asked Fonzi to check it out.Fonzi, working in South Florida with anti-Castro Cuban sources, developed a link between an important CIA agent and Oswald. A very credible Cuban source had seen his handler, a mysterious Maurice Bishop, with Oswald in Dallas shortly before the assassination. Out of understandable fear, and the fact that he wanted to keep working with his CIA contact in efforts to overthrow Castro, he had kept the story to himself for years. It was a sensational piece of information, made even more credible with corroboration by other sources over the years. It was to become the germ of Fonzi’s book, The Last Investigation, which was published in 1993, and is now recognized as a landmark work on the JFK assassination. But in 1980, it was just a long magazine article.
In Florida it created little stir. Our presentation was not ideal. The story was so long we printed it on cheap paper and ran it as in insert. Gold Coast’s lifestyle audience was not the natural readership for such matter. Washingtonian, however, had been doing the kind of provocative journalism that Ben Bradlee admired. The publication of Fonzi’s story was a major event, so major that David Atlee Phillips, the CIA agent identified with Oswald, sued the magazine for $7 million, serious money at the time. The suit was ultimately dismissed. In Florida, we had expected all hell to break loose when the Washington Post followed up. We figured it would go all over the world fast. But Ben Bradlee’s crusading Washington Post also dismissed the story. It did nothing.
Coast’s lifestyle audience was not the natural readership for such matter. Washingtonian, however, had been doing the kind of provocative journalism that Ben Bradlee admired. The publication of Fonzi’s story was a major event, so major that David Atlee Phillips, the CIA agent identified with Oswald, sued the magazine for $7 million, serious money at the time. The suit was ultimately dismissed. In Florida, we had expected all hell to break loose when the Washington Post followed up. We figured it would go all over the world fast. But Ben Bradlee’s crusading Washington Post also dismissed the story. It did nothing.Jack Limpert, editor of Washingtonian at the time, recently recalled the non-reaction. “The Post and pretty much everyone else ignored Gaeton’s piece,” he said.
Now, it is not unusual for publications to ignore being scooped by a rival. When Gaeton Fonzi exposed a corrupt Philadelphia Inquirer reporter in the 1960s, both the Inquirer and rival Evening Bulletin ignored the story – until it broke nationally a few weeks later. Fonzi in the 1960s also challenged Arlen Specter, the man who came up with the impossible “single bullet” theory, in Philadelphia magazine. It set the city buzzing, but again the newspapers remained mute. Even compared to those important stories, Washingtonian’s JFK piece was a giant, and for the Post to ignore it seems an inexcusable lapse of integrity.
Fonzi’s magazine article evolved into a book, by which time he had developed considerably more information and his work was being followed up by a number of researchers. Even then, the Post largely ignored him. Ironically, one of those influenced by Fonzi was former Washington Post reporter Jefferson Morley, but he had a difficult time getting the paper to run some of his dramatic revelations. He wound up giving a story about Oswald’s CIA connections, and the efforts by the CIA to impede Fonzi’s investigation, to the Miami New Times.
One can only speculate on what might have been if the Post had used its investigative resources to follow Washingtonian’s 1980 story. Most of the people now identified as part of the conspiracy, and its equally sinister coverup by the Warren Commission, were still alive. Today all are dead, safe from the arms of justice. The list included high-ranking members of the CIA, important elected officials, possibly military leaders and mafia figures – although the latter, if involved, were not the prime movers of the crime. Jack Ruby, who killed the alleged assassin, was mobbed up, but also had CIA connections. That has come out in dribs and drabs over the last 30 years, but the Washington Post long ago could have broken down the wall of silence and provided the truth – if only it had the will.
Ben Bradlee – great editor. But.
Rank has its privilege. That is a term used in the military to explain why generals live better than privates. And why, at a cocktail party, the general never need get his own martini. He simply says to the colonel, “I want a martini.” And the colonel asks the major, who asks the lieutenant, who asks the sergeant who asks the corporal who asks the private (if one is available) to get the general a martini.
The private gets the martini and gives it to the corporal, who gives it to the sergeant, who gives it to the lieutenant who gives it to the captain who gives it to the major who gives it to the colonel, who says to the general, “Sir, your martini, sir.” And, because rank has its privilege, the general may take a sip and say to the colonel, “too much vermouth” and hand it back for a repeat performance.
Rank also has its privilege in civilian life, as we see all the time. And as one who has followed the John Goodman DUI homicide trial as a fan of both polo and expert witnesses, we note that the “rank has its privilege” mantra still thrives. The average poor slob would be three years into a jail term right now, but Goodman is still trying to extend his limited freedom (he’s in the brig as we write) with legal maneuvers.
Unlike many commentators, we sympathize with the man. We met him once and he seemed like a good sport. And, while it is clear the poor rich guy is guilty, one has to feel for anyone who has spent so much money and still may do serious time. Many people forget that he gave the family of the man who died some $46 million. We don’t think the jury in his two trials heard that piece of trivia.
We wonder if he could do it again, would Goodman have used his wealth more wisely at the early stages of his problem. Perhaps he was not thinking clearly (who could, after a night of fun and a serious accident?) but Goodman might have just disappeared for a day or so, on the grounds that he was disoriented with a concussion. Therefore the very incriminating blood test might never have occurred. Alternatively, he might have gotten a total transfusion, getting the bad stuff out of his body, before reporting for a test. There certainly must be some bloody technician out there that could be bought for the right amount.
Expert witnesses could be bought to cover any discrepancies in this strategy. Experts always tell the truth as they see it. Ask any career expert witness what is the truth, and he or she, under oath, would say the truth depends on the size of their fee. And that’s the truth.
There are other legal precedents up with which creative lawyers might have come. For instance, why not argue that Goodman be allowed to send a substitute to jail, much as rich guys did in the Civil War? You could certainly find some fellow who deserves to be in jail for a crime he intended to commit, which obviously Goodman did not.
Perhaps it is time for us, as a society, to consider whether a rich man should simply pay to stay out of jail, providing he also makes a perfect act of contrition. Many would suggest that Gov. Rick Scott would make an excellent expert witness in that case.
Rank has its privilege.
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| Attendees at the Cox's Landing dedication ceremony. Photo by Art Seitz. |
As the monstrously successful Fort Lauderdale International Boat Show was in full sail around them, a high-powered group of local people met to celebrate the memory of a man who started it all. Cox's Landing, a modern boat launching facility, was inaugurated under perfect Saturday morning skies at Lauderdale Marina, founded by Bob Cox 67 years ago. His son-in-law, Ted Drum, who now runs the operation along with his own high-profile real estate company, reminded the audience of Bob Cox's history with the boat show. Although the modern show is rightly credited to Kaye Pearson, who in 1977 came up with the idea of having it in the water at Bahia Mar, it was Cox, who 55 years ago, decided that a boating capital such as Fort Lauderdale deserved a marine show. It began in an armory off State Road 84 (which is still there), quite a distance from today’s sprawling seven water-related venues.
It was just one of several fascinating anecdotes relayed by Drum about the man who died last year at 95, and who for 67 of those years was devoted to the South Florida marine industry, and equally strongly identified with sensible government at a time of spectacular growth in the city. He was on the Fort Lauderdale City Commission for more than two decades, five of them as mayor. His language was often as flamboyant as the sport coats he fancied, and it got him in trouble a few times, but he never lost the respect of those who knew him and appreciated his contributions to the area. Among them were deepening canals that have given Fort Lauderdale the nickname "Venice of America." That grew from his first experience in town when he arrived with a boat in 1946 and found it difficult to find a place to dock. He found a spot where the Navy had tested torpedoes in World War II and turned it into Lauderdale Marina.
Not many knew that this old salt had exceptional academic credentials; he was a graduate of prestigious Cal Tech. He was also a masterful marine mechanic, a skill that served him well in his early days. He was also a bit of a journalist, contributing several articles on the marine industry in the early years of Gold Coastmagazine. Later in politics, he was a mix of conservative social values and progressive ideas when it came to city planning. He was among those who discouraged the out-of-control spring break by supporting a major rebuilding of Fort Lauderdale's public beach.
To those living in the city's old Colee Hammock section, at least those who have been there long enough to remember the occasion, Bob Cox's memory has a special place. In the mid-1980s that neighborhood, which was once the eastern border of the city, found itself besieged by fast-moving traffic headed to and from the developing beach. Its once quiet, oak-shaded streets were becoming dangerous speedways. There was a quiet movement, led by real estate man Tom Adler, to close off the busiest streets. It was approved by the city with little comment, and then all hell broke loose when people on the beach and Las Olas Isles realized their raceways were gone. There was a contentious hearing at city hall - contentious until Bob Cox took charge. He explained the history of the city's growth, and how Colee Hammock was the last neighborhood before the beach – which was once virtually an island, before all the bridges were built. He said the city should not have let the traffic problem go unaddressed for years.
"We made a mistake, and now what we're doing is correcting it," he said. His argument prevailed, and soon neighborhoods all over the city saw similar street closures. The benefits of that movement have been widespread. With the naming of Cox's Landing, it is good to see the man's legacy preserved.
Browardization. New term, old refrain.
We heard this refrain before. Back in the 1970s, Boca Raton officials were alarmed at the threat of runaway development. They were looking south toward Broward County, especially Fort Lauderdale, where new oceanfront condominiums were leaping from the ground like spring tulips. “We don’t want to become another Fort Lauderdale” was the battle cry of the day.
The result was a density cap, limiting the number of people allowed in the city. It was eventually overturned by the courts, but it gave time for Boca to enact other rules that effectively slowed and controlled development. Indeed “Perfect Town,” as we once called it, is much different from Fort Lauderdale.
Now they are at it again. The Palm Beach Postreports opposition to ambitious development plans for the western part of Palm Beach County, some of it on land that was supposedly reserved as open space. People are again looking south for a bogeyman, with the slogan “We don’t want the Browardization of Palm Beach County.”
Different phrase, same idea. Alas, the complaint has merit. In both Dade and Broward counties, growth has been permitted well into what was once the Everglades. Miles of farmland is gone, wetlands turned to asphalt. Some think it sets us up for an ecological disaster, or at least a water crisis that could destroy much of the environment that draws people to South Florida in the first place.
For Broward, it is too late to retain the lifestyle that brought people here in the beginning. The traffic seems beyond the point of repair, even if All Aboard Florida and Tri-Rail achieve their desirable goals. All that will do is slow traffic growth a bit; it cannot correct the past. As we prepare for Gold Coast’s 50th anniversary next spring, we ask old timers what they think of growth. Almost all, including some who have prospered conspicuously with the development of Broward, say it was a much better place to live and raise a family 30 or 40 years ago.
And those are just the people still here. Many of those who grew up in the 1950s and ’60s have fled to places such as Stuart and Vero Beach, where high-rise buildings are non-existent.
Browardization. It’s an unfortunate, but apt term.
The Goodman DUI/homicide trial has temporarily knocked the campaign to stop All Aboard Florida off the front pages, but it will be back as soon as the judge declares a mistrial because of juror misconduct and postpones the matter for a few more years, by which time the defendant should be eligible for social security to help defray his considerable legal costs.
Meanwhile, while the debate rages over whether the Florida East Coast Railway should be allowed to be a railroad, the FEC doesn’t seem terribly worried about the outcome. Although it is making a big PR effort to meet with those who oppose its plan for high-speed rail between Miami and Orlando, assuring them that all the commotion associated with 32 new trains on its tracks will cause no commotion, it is going ahead as if it isn’t concerned about all the commotion.
It has announced plans to begin construction of a very big time complex, called Miami Central (pictured above), which will be the station for All Aboard Florida and Tri-Rail. The latter is anticipated to move some trains to the FEC tracks. Miami Central will be a lot more than a train station. The four-block complex on the site of the rail yard the FEC has owned forever will include a hotel, apartments, office buildings and retail, plus a huge parking lot to accommodate all this activity. It is more like the underground stations in New York, where Madison Square Garden sits over Penn Station, or Philadelphia, where blocks of offices are above the busy downtown commuter stations.
, apartments, office buildings and retail, plus a huge parking lot to accommodate all this activity. It is more like the underground stations in New York, where Madison Square Garden sits over Penn Station, or Philadelphia, where blocks of offices are above the busy downtown commuter stations.If anyone hasn’t already guessed, this shows that All Aboard Florida is at least as much a real estate play as it is a transportation initiative. The ambitious Miami plan, a boon to that city – turning a depressed area into a financial asset – will face no opposition. Combined with announced plans for new stations in Fort Lauderdale and West Palm Beach, the economic benefits to the FEC and surrounding communities are substantial. But the FEC needs the train to make it all work.
When Tri-Rail begins using the same tracks for commuter service, similar benefits could come to other locations in Palm Beach County. Not too many people up there seem to grasp this. We have noted before that All Aboard Florida initially will only serve West Palm Beach to Miami, but that could be a fall back plan if the Orlando route does not materialize. With a few more stations at key locations, the FEC would have a fast intercity service that by itself would justify the real estate investment.
.One way or the other, All Aboard Florida is going to happen, and in the long run – perhaps a very long run – give all of South Florida more than just a modern rail service. Given the way traffic is going, it is more than an asset. It’s a blessing.
Ever since the inspirational 1973 film, “The Sting,” in which Paul Newman and Robert Redford (with the help of screenwriter David S. Ward) took down a mobster, all America has admired great con men. Last week the Miami Herald’s Evan S. Benn reported on one of the current breed. Jimmy Sabatino apparently enjoyed his sentencing hugely, especially the revelation that even in jail he managed to rip off the government to the amount estimated (by him) at $247,000.
Sabatino, who loves publicity and calls the Heraldregularly, is serving time for fleecing hotels out of $594,000. According to Benn’s entertaining piece, last year, posing as a music-label executive, Sabatino enjoyed the good life at four Miami hotels, ordering $100,000 of booze to go with expensive rooms. He could not drink it all. Some $50,000 worth of Champagne was in his car when police arrested him.
While in jail, he talked his way into getting eye surgery, which he claimed cost taxpayers $247,000. Sabatino, who is only 37, has been conning most of his life, including a 1995 event in which, posing as a Blockbuster executive, he managed to get 262 free tickets to the Super Bowl, which he then sold. Unlike most con artists, who dislike being caught, Sabatino seems to crave recognition for his craft. Benn quotes the man’s father as saying he “needed attention like a drug,” allegedly the result of being abandoned by his mother.
What Sabatino does share with some other famous con men is a strange body. He carries more than 300 pounds on a 5-foot-6 frame. The photo in the Herald made him look like a smiling Humpty Dumpty. His girth, however, is far from a record for his profession. Back in the 1960s in the Philadelphia area, Sylvan Skolnick, whose specialty was bankruptcy for fun and profit, weighed 600 pounds. His nickname was “Cherry Hill Fats.”
One of South Florida’s most notorious con artists was also a bit of a freak. Phil Wilson, who masterminded the Bank of Sark fraud from a Fort Lauderdale office, was a tiny fellow. His specialty was producing beautiful documents that fooled even sophisticated investors. His bank, which actually had been chartered but never activated, was in the Channel Islands off Great Britain. It was a room above a gas station. It operated for four years until exposed. In the 1970s he wrote us from jail after Gold Coast magazine described his work:
“When you said I was a small con man, did you mean small in stature or small in the money we took? We took $40 million.”
By the 1980s, Wilson was out of jail and arrested locally again for running a scam based on taking fees from troubled businesses in return for phony certificates, which theoretically would help get them legitimate loans. Compared to Sark, it was minor league.
Although people such as Sabatino and Wilson enjoyed using their wits to take people’s money, at least they did not kill. The same can’t be said for Michael Raymond (aka Michael Burnett). Raymond attracted attention when he was suspected in the disappearance of Adelaide Stiles, a social writer for the old Fort Lauderdale News. Raymond, another fat guy whose lack of physical assets was offset by smooth talk, romanced the lonely Stiles. After he took what money she had (not nearly as much as he thought), he was suspected of murdering her aboard a boat and dumping her dismembered body in waters off the Florida Keys. It was later discovered that two other Florida business associates of his had similarly disappeared in the 1970s.
Raymond’s special gift was his ability to con the federal government, sort of. He managed to stay out of jail by convincing federal authorities that he could help them in various stings to catch bigger fish, especially political figures. He was a key player in the parking collections scandal that rocked Chicago and New York City in the 1980s. It was a story that began in South Florida when Gaeton Fonzi, a partner in Gold Coast at the time, began looking into Adelaide Stiles’ disappearance. The law finally caught up with Raymond when he was convicted in the mid-1990s of ordering the murder of a New York bank employee who was a witness in a fraud case against him. He died in jail.
Whether their physical appearance had anything to do with turning these men to crime, or whether their mothers are to blame for their unusual bodies, is a mystery. Maybe there is no connection at all. Certainly Paul Newman and Robert Redford did not seem to have any problems with their appearance.
At this time of year, when football season is about half over and many of the players on all levels have yet to be indicted, it is traditional for us to rate the uniforms and fight songs of the teams. Normally, we vote for the best uniforms, mostly on the college level, but this year there have been so many uniform changes, most of them nauseating, that the spirit of public service dictates that we rank the most awful uniforms.
Keep in mind that by tradition we favor tradition, so such teams as Notre Dame, Penn State, Alabama, Texas, Oklahoma, Southern California and Harvard have an unfair advantage. They know what they look like and, like the Marine Corps, take great pride in their traditional look, and never change it, unless there is a lot of money involved. So forget them for the moment and let us focus on schools that have such bad taste that they should give up football, and in fact close their doors for good.
Starting close to home, the University of Miami gave away 10 points last weekend when they came out looking like clowns against a Georgia Tech team that wore a novelty uniform for what they call “white day.” The uniform was white, gently accented with gold, the Papal colors. By tradition, we oppose such novelty uniforms, but this one looked elegant. Miami, in contrast, gave fans stomach cramps with awful green helmets and bilious green pants. The helmets lose the impact of Miami’s “U” logo, one of the most distinctive and recognizable symbols in football. It goes back to the early 1970s before the Hurricanes became a national power. But that logo, orange and green, demands a white background. Green against green just doesn’t work.
How could a team that won national championships wearing white helmets, where the logo stood out majestically, and usually white pants with orange jerseys, have fallen so far in taste? Especially when Coach Al Golden came out of Penn State, which prides itself on a classically conservative look, with hardly a stripe to be found on its blue and white livery. You would think a Nittany Lion would resign before letting his team dress like buffoons.
Notre Dame appalled its alumni (even the TV guys mentioned it) with novelty uniforms against Purdue. But they came back, reportedly at the insistence of the Pope himself, to their storied unadorned blue and gold uniforms to go 5-0. They were helped when Syracuse gave them 10 points by coming out in putrid ash and Prussian gray uniforms. That a team, which once featured Jim Brown, Ernie Davis and Floyd Little with orange helmets and blue jerseys, could lose its sense of history is a failing matched only by a dozen other teams that have given up classic uniforms to look like drunks on Halloween.
Washington, which used to dress pretty well, is catching up with neighbor Oregon in making its players look like demons from the lower regions, but neither compares to Maryland, which has taken one of the most attractive state flags and desecrated it by sprawling it all over sterodic uniforms. The only thing for Maryland to do at this stage is give up football and design a new state flag.
Let us abandon this depressing subject, and move on to fight songs. Fortunately, great fight songwriters come along only once in a century, so you don’t have much to change. The only additions are an occasional theft of a tune written for a different purpose, as when Texas A&M appropriated the stirring theme from the film “Patton.”
Years back, when he was coaching the Tampa Bay Bucs, we asked John McKay if he liked fight songs. “Notre Dame has the best,” he said with authority. This is a man who regularly beat Notre Dame while he was the coach at the University of Southern California. We suggested “Fight On For USC,” Michigan’s stirring “Hail To The Victors," “Fight On Brave Army Team” and Georgia Tech’s “Ramblin’ Wreck” as worthy of consideration.
“No, Mac,” he said, “when you lead USC into South Bend and Notre Dame’s fight song inspires your team, that’s a great fight song.”
But the fact is, this event isn't the worst day in the history of the Secret Service. We have written this before, but in the context of the times it is worth repeating. The worst day in the history of the Secret Service was Nov. 22, 1963, when it went on vacation the day President John F. Kennedy was murdered in Dallas. Most people don't know that. The impression reinforced over the years is that of agent Clint Hill running to jump on the rear of JFK's car to protect Jackie Kennedy. The Secret Service seemed heroic. Clint Hill certainly was.
The facts are different. It took almost a half century, but revelations in recent extraordinary books tell us what some Secret Service people knew 50 years ago. However, they remained silent or were ignored by investigators. James W. Douglass, in JFK and the Unspeakable gives the details. Normal precautions to protect a president in public were absent. There were no snipers on buildings surrounding the motorcade, no surveillance to keep people from windows overlooking the street. Agents normally alongside the limousine were pulled off. The Dallas police took almost no part in the security operation.
Most remarkable, is that there were no Secret Service agents in the most dangerous location, Dealey Plaza, where the shooting occurred. Several people lurking behind the fence on the “grassy knoll” identified themselves as Secret Service when confronted immediately after the shooting, but they were obviously part of the plot. The Secret Service said it had nobody at that location. These phony agents may have been the shooters. Years later we learn that when some Secret Service people asked what was going on, they were told it was the President’s wishes. Others heard simply that their unusual instructions came from Washington.
None of this was known at the time. Had it been, the nation would have been shocked. The notion of a conspiracy would not have been dismissed, as it was initially. It would not have taken decades, and the slow building of a mountain of information to convince most people that the Warren Commission got it wrong, and got it wrong on purpose.
There are two major differences between the recent Secret Service performance and the Kennedy Assassination. Almost surely, these deplorable gaffs of recent days were not intentional, nor part of any plot. What happened 50 years ago almost surely was part of a plan. Secondly, it took only weeks for the truth of recent actions to become known. In the other case, it has taken 50 years, and some people still don’t buy it.
In Palm Beach County there are people, apparently a legion, who don’t like a railroad being a railroad. This is the opposition to All Aboard Florida, the fast train being planned on the FEC tracks from Miami to Orlando. The subject is getting almost daily coverage in the three South Florida papers. The common folk are being supported to a surprising degree by public figures who value the next election over the good of the region.Some of the objections are legit. Marine industries have a concern over frequent railroad bridge closings affecting a major part of local industry. That must be addressed, and as we previously wrote, the final solution is rebuilding this critical transportation asset, including possibly tunneling under Fort Lauderdale’s New River. That is long range and expensive.
But many of the opposition’s qualms are shallow. People cite a delay of a few minutes getting to a hospital because a crossing that never should have been built in the first place is being closed. They also cite horn noises at crossings, which the FEC is working to reduce. Why do people move next to a railroad if they don’t like the railroad’s inconveniences?
One of the complaints from Palm Beach County is the fact that All Aboard Florida is scheduled to stop only in West Palm Beach. People say why should we approve a train that does not serve us – us being all the turf from Fort Lauderdale to West Palm – a 40-mile stretch without any stations.
The solution to this complaint is so obvious we would be surprised if the FEC/All Aboard Florida group is not already considering it. Tri-Rail has already announced a wish to expand its service on the FEC (it currently uses the CSX track to the west) all the way to Jupiter. It has even identified locations for Palm Beach County stations. All Aboard Florida has already said its first stage, scheduled for 2016, will only go as far as West Palm Beach. So why not put a few stations in Palm Beach County in places Tri-Rail has already identified? Not six stations, as they already exist on the CSX corridor along I-95, but perhaps every 10 miles, in prime traffic areas such as Delray Beach and Boca Raton. That would still permit a very fast train to be able to take advantage of the improvements already begun on the FEC tracks.
This would be a temporary, but very useful line, especially if stops were included at the Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport, downtown Hollywood, and perhaps Aventura, before heading into downtown Miami. When the link from West Palm Beach to Orlando is ready (planned for 2017), All Aboard Florida could revert to its original plan and turn the stations over to Tri-Rail, which by then should be ready to expand some service to the FEC. Tri-Rail will have inherited, at little cost, the base for its commuter trains, plus a market study on the potential of the FEC route.
Again, this is so obvious we think it may be already in the works. At the very least, it would help All Aboard Florida with its PR problem in Palm Beach County.
