One of the sillier aspects of political correctamania is the recurring dispute over showing the Confederate flag. The Sunday Miami Herald wrote about a Fredericksburg, Va., man who has upset some people by flying a large Confederate flag on his property, visible to all on Interstate 95. Not a bad place for a flag. Fredericksburg was the scene of the slaughter of the Irish Brigade, Union troops. Those who object consider the Stars and Bars an odious symbol of racism, an endorsement of slavery. Those increasing few who dare to fly it say it honors their family or community history.
It all boils down to arguing the cause of that great fight. Some say it was about slavery; others say it was states' rights. The fact is both are right. Slavery was the economic cause of the disunion among the states. But the men who fought and died, on either side, were for the most part not fighting for, or against, slavery. They fought for their neighborhoods. In the case of the South, it was the belief that the states had rights superior to a federal government. That had been an argument since the beginning of the country, and the Civil War settled it. As Shelby Foote wrote, before the Civil War it was “the United States are.” After the Civil War, it became “the United States is.”
Just because a Southern man picked up a gun did not mean he subscribed to slavery. His state may have seceded because business interests, as today, often controlled state governments, and in the South much of business used slave labor. But the average soldier, even the average general, did not own slaves. Robert E. Lee did, but he was in the process of setting them free. Lee stated that he went to war for his native state, Virginia. That was his higher loyalty, although he revised that view later.
A better example is Patrick Cleburne, an Irish-born general from Arkansas. He fought for that state because he had been accepted and prospered there after the hardships and discrimination of Ireland. He went so far as to advocate freeing slaves and making them Confederate soldiers. His idea was repugnant to some, but he continued to show his Southern loyalty to the point of being killed at the battle of Franklin. There are innumerable stories of men who gave all for a cause that had nothing to do with race. Wesley Culp grew up in Gettysburg (his uncle owned Culp’s Hill, scene of a bloody battle) but moved to Virginia just before the war. He came back with the Southern army and was killed on his uncle’s property.
What seems most unfair is comparing the Confederate flag to the swastika, the symbol of the Nazis. To begin with, that was a political party’s emblem, not a national one. German insignia during World War II was the black cross, same as today, although it is now the more artsy cross of Malta. Nobody condemns it. Same as the Japanese hinomaru, symbolizing the sun, which we mocked as a meatball. Considering the brutality of the Japanese in the war, that emblem might have been discouraged. In fact, it was for three years, but today the Japanese flag is unchanged from 1941. Nobody seems to be upset.
So, perhaps we should ban the Confederate flag from 1865 to 1868, but in 2014 don’t get upset about it, except when flown, as it sometimes is, by gun nuts. Ban the nuts, not the flag.
There has been some chatter recently about changing the names of things named after people nobody has heard of, such as Arthur Godfrey Road in Miami Beach. Now, for those who have never heard of him, Arthur Godfrey was once a dominant radio and television personality who was strongly identified with South Florida, especially Miami Beach. Some credit him with creating the buzz that brought Jackie Gleason and a lot of collateral publicity to South Florida.
We credit Godfrey with giving Miami Magazinesome plugs back in the early 1970s when we owned it. It seems he liked girls, and one of the girls he liked happened to be selling advertising for us. Godfrey mentioned our magazine and his foxy friend on the air. Alas, it did not do us much good, as we were forced to sell the struggling magazine to a fellow who eventually made some money on it. Arthur Godfrey died in 1983. To preserve his memory, they named a prominent artery after him. It preserved his memory so well, that today nobody remembers him. At least one public official said he isn’t “relevant” these days. That means nobody makes any money on him today.
There’s a little more to this story. Godfrey ran his operation from a restricted hotel, and even when they named something after him, some people thought it questionable, suspecting him of anti-Semitism. Hence, an effort to undo what should not have been done in the first place.
In principle, we object to changing names of places, such as the former Joe Robbie Stadium, which has been changed so often that people say they’re going to a game at “whatever they call it today.” There is, however, considerable precedent for changing names. The Jackie Gleason Inverrary Classic is now the Honda; people once called Miami Lemon City, presumably named after a lemon; Delray Beach was originally Linton, named after an early settler; Stuart was at one time Potsdam, named after the German town where some settlers were born; Dania used to be Modello. Whatever happened to New Amsterdam or New Sweden? Those places were renamed after whoever won the latest battle. Just up river from Fort Christina, Pennsylvania Military College became Widener University. Well, that beats the original 1821 name of the Bullock School For Boys. After all, it’s co-ed today. Not far away, there is now Arcadia University, which for years went by the name Beaver College.
Still, it seems a shame, except to sign painters, to change a name just because the name doesn’t mean much these days. Carried to extreme, a lot of revered institutions could go by something else. Washington and Lee University might consider a change because Cliff Lee may be out for the season.
Well, you can’t fight change. But, at least we can forget the idea of renaming American Airlines Arena to The House That LeBron Built.
We would have thrown out this idea long ago, except we did not know it existed anymore. That is until recently in Philadelphia we saw new trolley buses, which we always called trackless trolleys, making their rounds. We thought those interesting vehicles had expired years ago, about the same time that trolleys on tracks left most cities. In fact, in Philadelphia they had left. The old vehicles wore out and Philadelphia did not replace them for five years. But the city sensibly never took down the electric wires, and recently decided to bring back some new trackless trolleys.
These are an improvement over the ones that served the city for 80 years, in that they have generators which enable them to run "off wire" in special situations where their power poles are too short to do the job. They combine the virtues of tracked trolleys, in that they run on electricity, with the flexibility to maneuver in traffic. Plus, and this is the big advantage, they are quiet and emit no noxious fumes. Running on rubber tires, they don't clank like steel-wheeled trolleys. Although more expensive than traditional diesel buses, they are cheaper to run, last longer and are popular with riders for the above reasons.
Thus, it seemed strange that they would disappear from the urban scene. In fact, they hadn't. Research reveals that a number of cities still run them. Seattle and Boston have major fleets. Philadelphia is just the latest to revive a good idea.
Which, of course, makes one wonder why Fort Lauderdale is making such a big deal of its Wave, a traditional trolley in the planning stage. From what we hear, most people think it is a regressive step. Officials tout the trolley as a traffic reducer, but most people think whatever motorists they take off the road will be negated by their need to stop every block and back up traffic as they take people off and on. And a tracked vehicle can’t swing around traffic when necessary. Does it make sense to go to the expense of laying down track, with the disruption it will cause, when a vehicle exists which can provide better service on existing roadways?
Light rail works when the electric cars have a dedicated lane, so they don’t become part of a traffic jam. Denver provides an excellent example. The rail cars have their own lane on city streets, so they move faster than automobile traffic. They serve high traffic locations in the city, and then they connect to existing railroads for fairly high-speed trips to suburbs 15 or 20 miles away.
If Fort Lauderdale’s Wave were to connect to the FEC tracks, and become effectively a commuter train as well as a streetcar, it would be a different story. But that is not the plan. Maybe smokeless and trackless should be.
Sunday in The Palm Beach Post. Today in the Sun-Sentinel. We are being bombarded with stories about rail transportation. Most of it relates to the Florida East Coast Railway (hereafter know as the FEC) and the tracks Henry Flagler built to open up Florida’s East Coast more than a century ago.
If readers are confused, it is intentional. On its editorial pages the papers generally applaud the idea of passenger service returning to the FEC, which abandoned it in the 1960s. They show pictures of the futuristic stations planned for Miami, Fort Lauderdale and West Palm Beach, as part of the FEC’s plan for a fast train between Miami and Orlando. They praise the potential redevelopment of seedy neighborhoods near the station locations.
Then, sometimes in the same issue, they carry news stories on the opposition to expanding rail travel, quoting public figures and citizens groups who have concerns about damage to the marine industry and the general nuisance that passenger trains will cause residents. Bridges popping up and down like jumping jacks where the tracks meet waterways. Horns blaring at numerous crossings. Delays for emergency vehicles. The disconcerting shriek of a train flying by when somebody is trying to line up a putt on a golf course near the tracks.
There’s nothing wrong with honest coverage, and the concerns voiced are legitimate (if shortsighted) but it gets annoying when influential columnists tend to side with people against progress. Their opinions have earned respect, which is the problem when they take a narrow view of what could be of enormous long-term benefit to Florida. Mike Mayo in the Sun-Sentinel, Frank Cerabino in The Palm Beach Post and, just Sunday, Carl Hiaasen in The Miami Herald, have all expressed cynicism about All Aboard Florida’s ambitious project, and indeed to the idea of running passenger trains at all on the FEC.
These are good writers, but one wonders if they can read. If they can, they should know that All Aboard Florida is just part of what is envisioned as very heavy use of the FEC tracks for both long distance and commuter service. We pulled from our files a 2009 front page of The Palm Beach Post that details, with maps, long-range visions of stations from Jupiter all the way to downtown Miami along the FEC. It includes the concept of switching Amtrak’s long distance trains from the roundabout CSX route through the center of the state to the FEC, which cuts through the heart of coastal population centers from Jacksonville south. More recently the other papers have run similar pieces.
Now, again much publicized, Tri-Rail has entered the picture, with hopes of moving some of its trains to the FEC, adding new stations every three or four miles in Palm Beach County and serving downtowns in Fort Lauderdale and Miami. All Aboard Florida, with its new stations in the highest density markets, will only speed that event. Actually, the FEC will become far busier than what most of those opposed to All Aboard Florida seem to realize. What they also don’t realize is that this should be the beginning of a major reconstruction of the railroad, eliminating many grade crossings that the FEC never should have allowed in the first place, building bridges at some major intersections and perhaps, as we romantically suggested a few weeks ago, even a tunnel under the New River and Broward Boulevard in Fort Lauderdale. In the long run, and it could be a very long run, the benefits to communities now skeptical of the rail improvements will far outweigh the inconveniences. People in Stuart are bitching today, but that tone would change if that city had a station where people could move quickly north or south.
It has also been reported that former rival transportation interests are now on the same track, with plans to switch some of the FEC’s slow moving freights to the western CSX, which has far fewer grade crossings. People should consider it a fair trade-off. More trains crossing their paths quickly as opposed to slow, mile-long freights taking forever to clear the gates.
Is such a grand plan feasible? Actually, it’s necessary. If we can build, and rebuild Interstate 95, and rebuild Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport twice in the last 40 years, we can rebuild a railroad so that its immense potential, realized a century ago and neglected for the last 50 years, can again be realized.
Our position on entitlements has always been consistent. We are totally against them, unless we happen to be the entitlee. Thus, we opposed some of the outrageous perks Congressional staffers enjoy, until our daughter worked in Congress and got to enjoy them. Then, after she left that job, we opposed them again.We are similarly conflicted on the new government affordable care program. We wonder why Republicans seem to despise what they call Obamacare, as if the president alone is responsible for a program that developed over seven administrations. Sen. Ted Kennedy, who made a career of advocating for national health care, was buried as something of a hero to the cause, even though he never managed to get it passed.
In general, we had no opinion on the subject, until we noticed that one of our entitlements, known as Social Security, took a noticeable hit this year. We are told it relates to paying for health care. And it bothers us that after working out regularly for 40 years, keeping to a generally healthy diet, unless you count gin, getting regular checkups, etc., we find we are paying for some fat slob who never did anything healthy and gets sick because of it. Or, in the immortal words of former Fort Lauderdale Mayor Jim Naugle, "some schlock lying on a couch drinking beer all day." He probably meant "schmuck," but you get the point.
On the other hand, who can object to some public help for people who can't afford even the basic screening for easily diagnosed conditions such as high blood pressure, low blood pressure and no blood pressure?
At this point, we must interrupt this rant to admit that the sun just came up, observed from this porch in a rented place in Tavernier. We look beyond the free form pool, with a bubbling hot tub, richly landscaped and surrounded by lush vegetation, including palms and sea grapes which are utterly motionless, toward Florida Bay. The bay is a soft Virgin Mary blue, with streaks of silver glinting with the wonder of a new day. And far out, just visible on the skyline, the rising sun has lent an olive ridge to the islands in the distance. It is beautiful, but a different beauty from last night when we watched the sun set on the same water, then a fading rose, with the islands a smudge of dusky gray. Last night there were kids all over the place, in the pool and gathering near small boats, which brought neighbors to the event. Some were even fishing, and the water is so clear you can see the fish. The water this morning is utterly empty and so flat you could almost think of walking on it. In fact, most of the bay is so shallow you can walk safely across it.
It was not always this way. In 1935 a terrible storm swept over this place, which at the time only the railroad could reach. It was Henry Flagler's masterpiece, extending his Florida East Coast rails all the way to Key West. The special cement for the railroad's abutments came from Germany, a country known for its excellence in things scientific, which it showed again yesterday in winning the World Cup. For 20 years, the railroad crossing miles of sea was considered a wonder of the world. But in a few hours the storm took out 40 miles of track, which has never been rebuilt. A train filled with workers trying to flee was knocked off the track as a tidal wave submerged this place. The bodies of more than 400 people, and some people still alive, were found as far away as those islands across the bay. Those people had no health insurance; didn't even know what it was. They were workers, who otherwise might have been homeless, enjoying the entitlement of one of Franklin Roosevelt's depression era make-work projects. Amazingly some lived to tell about it, and Ernest Hemingway, living in Key West at the time, wrote bitterly about the tragedy.
Thinking about that awful history, contrasted with the pleasure of this day, could affect one's health, which brings us vaguely back on topic. Why should we have to pay, from our hard-earned entitlement of Social Security, for people who make consensual sex a health issue, but give nothing to those of us who despite years of healthy living, and countless miles of jogging in Holiday Park, and occasionally get the gout and other ailments for which nobody pays us a dime, not even for the three million cherries we eat this time of year to prevent such distractions, or the workout clothes we buy every 10 years to make sure we look pretty while preserving our health. For that effort, we get charged.
Contemplating such unfair socially engineered absurdities of our time, when contraception is a women’s health issue, becomes a separate health issue. Men ruin their health worrying about Social Security checks, requiring the universal medication known as martinis. It is an awful burden to bear, even as small early birds flit among the palms, now starting a slow dance in the wind, and ripples appear in the bay, assuring there is peace in our times.
At least until the morning paper returns us to reality.
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| A rendering of the All Aboard Fort Lauderdale station. |
The Florida East Coast (FEC) people today unveiled the new train station with which their All Aboard Florida train will serve downtown Fort Lauderdale. As anticipated, it is a lovely design – modern and glassy – and, as anticipated, there was a strong sell for how this new train will transform a tired neighborhood near busy Broward Boulevard. Long range, it should do a lot more than that, but let’s save that until we dismiss the bad news.
This thrilling presentation, enhanced by the fact that it was 100 degrees in the shade of a tent, and remarks from the speakers who would do well to study the Gettysburg Address, partly offset the news in today’s paper that the FEC has modified its timetable for its train. Initially, it will only run from Miami to Palm Beach, instead of all the way to Orlando. Apparently, there is a problem getting a new track built from Cocoa Beach to Orlando. But nobody mentioned that today.
And nobody mentioned what will likely be FEC’s biggest problem, which is the problem of getting people to accept the idea of a railroad doing what railroads were built to do: getting people and things as cheaply and quickly as possible from one place to another. Various speakers emphasized that this train would relieve congestion on the roads, but our prediction is that development sure to occur around the station will likely increase traffic before it relieves it. The development will bring in workers who live somewhere between Miami and Palm Beach, and nowhere near a train station.
Now, what should decrease traffic is the fact that Tri-Rail will almost surely move some trains to the FEC, where they should have been in the first place. The new station and surrounding development will be a draw, not just to downtown Fort Lauderdale, but also to Miami and communities in between. Ultimately, Tri-Rail will also head north, perhaps all the way to Jupiter. It even has picked locations for stations along the FEC track in Palm Beach County.
The bottom line is that the FEC is destined to become one busy railroad. Amtrak is also considering it. And already there is opposition from the marine industry that frequent bridge closings will hurt it, as well as residents near the tracks who object to the horns of trains at grade crossings. And, there is resistance to closing off some of those crossings, which is necessary to permit higher speeds.
Despite these challenges, and they sure are challenges, the long-term benefits of rebuilding the FEC into a modern transportation corridor will far outweigh the disadvantages. We have previously suggested a tunnel beneath the New River and Broward Boulevard (making the planned station partially obsolete before it is built). We happened to throw that idea out to two powerful builders this morning. To our surprise they did not ridicule the idea, although one said, probably accurately, “at least 10 years away.”
So what, the FEC wasn’t built in a day.
Boathouse Row, Philadelphia - At Vesper Boat Club, where Grace Kelly, later known as Princess Grace of Monaco, used to show up with her brother, our national sculling champion, they are asking the question. The same question is being asked at adjacent Malta Boat Club, and also at Penn AC, and Bachelors and Undine, University of Pennsylvania, Crescent and Fairmount. All along this historic row of ten boat clubs on the Schuylkill River, the word has spread that Fort Lauderdale is planning a rowing facility along the Middle River. And from the smallest high school coxswain to the oldest veteran still engaged in a health workout, the question is the same. Will Fort Lauderdale's new boathouse have a bar?
Before addressing this question of great importance, a bit of history. The sport of rowing, also known as crew (never use the redundant "crew team"), has been growing rapidly in Florida. Athletes and coaches who learned the sport on Philadelphia's Schuylkill or Boston's Charles River or Syracuse's Lake Onondaga have moved to Florida and brought interest in the sport with them. For years, northern colleges have come to Florida for their version of spring training. Our La Salle guys used to escape the March cold for practice races against Rollins, Tampa and Florida Southern, after which they came to Fort Lauderdale to party. Florida has much water, but a lot of it is not compatible with fragile racing shells. Rollins College has rowed on Winter Park's Lake Maitland for decades (its program began in 1903) and Florida Tech has developed very competitive crews on a canal in Melbourne. A world class rowing facility has just been built in Sarasota.
But finding suitable water in South Florida is a challenge. Most rivers and waterways are busy with powerboats, some of them so big they belong in the U.S. Navy. Their wakes alone inhibit a sport where boats sometimes are swamped by rough water. Years ago our crew won a race on the Delaware River simply because we were the only shell that managed not to sink.
Despite the obstacles, the sport has grown in Florida. Miami's Belen Jesuit rows on a man-made lake. In Fort Lauderdale, Pine Crest and Westminster Academy use canals near their campuses, which are narrow and not ideal rowing venues. The New River and Intracoastal Waterway are impossibly busy, unless you row in the dark. And that's what Nova Southeastern's women's crew, which has won Division II national championships, has been doing for several years. The ladies meet at Hollywood Rowing Club in Holland Park at 6 a.m. and are on and off the Intracoastal before the waterway becomes dangerously congested.
Thus, Nova Southeastern and local high schools welcome the news of the Middle River proposal, despite the fact that the river is less than ideal for this purpose. But it is suitable. Although there are docks all along the water, the traffic is far less than the Intracoastal into which it feeds. From the point where the river bends sharply east to join the Intracoastal, until north near 26th St., there is a relatively straight stretch, which could offer at least a high school race course - normally 1,500 meters. But that would require room for several boats to pass abreast under the new Sunrise Boulevard bridge. (Engineers take note.) The most popular rowing sites offer crews a chance to row without interruption for longer distances. Philadelphia's Schuylkill has three miles of row-able water through Fairmount Park, but that includes several major curves. Its often-used 2,000-meter racing course involves a slight dogleg.
To overcome these problems, we need a bar in this boathouse. There, sportsmen may gather under conditions that tend to make problems self-solving, including the problem of having a bar in a public park in the first place. That's not done in South Florida, although there is never a shortage of empty beer cans or liquor bottles found on the public beach or busy inland parks. An exception could be granted for private functions, and on the grounds of historic precedent. Just about every one of Philadelphia's boathouses has at least a modest corner for entertainment, which includes some kind of bar and facilities for a light kitchen. Thus, on weekends men (and increasingly women) whose competitive years are a distant memory, gather at their old clubs, to remember days of glory and, this time of year, probably watch a soccer game.
We should observe that Philly's famous rowing clubs, although private, sit on land owned by the city, the same as Fort Lauderdale's would be. Boathouse Row is part of the sprawling Fairmount Park, which follows the Schuylkill River and a major tributary, the Wissahickon Creek, for almost a dozen miles. The clubs also serve a public purpose. Each one houses several college or high school programs. Indeed, the boathouses sometimes serve as venues for fundraisers supporting those programs. Boathouse parties have been going on since the first clubs appeared in the 1850s and '60s.
Which brings us back to home. Starting from scratch, Fort Lauderdale's club should be large enough to accommodate far more activity than can be presently expected. Private owners will want to house boats there. When the river flows under U.S. 1, it becomes far too serpentine for the larger shells, but singles and doubles could use that water for longer rows. The Middle River eventually becomes canalized and there are considerable (and possibly raceable) stretches all the way to Interstate 95. A railroad bridge prevents all but the most low-lying boats from accessing that stretch, but racing shells are nothing if not low-lying. Rentals from schools and individuals are a source of income. Hollywood Rowing Club is a simple one-story shed. Fort Lauderdale should be bolder, even if it requires a public/private venture. The building should be broad enough and tall enough to accommodate lockers for men and women. It need not be 32 stories, but three levels, including the ground floor boat bays, would not be unreasonable. And topping it off, with a porch overlooking the water, is our bar. Properly executed, with some facility for serving food, it could become a unique social spot, rentable for weddings and all manner of receptions. Think Lauderdale or Coral Ridge yacht clubs. That would help defray the cost of maintaining the facility. It could possibly even be a modest moneymaker.
Such an ambitious project actually has a precedent in South Florida. The Shane Water Sports Center on Indian Creek, off Biscayne Bay in Miami Shores, houses the Miami Rowing Club and both the University of Miami and Barry University crews. It also is a popular spot for social events, and, best of all, it not only serves a drink, you can even bring your own.
As you might guess, the name for this old Philadelphia neighborhood comes from the earliest settlers, who were mostly Square Heads. The old Teutonic names still mark historical places. Pastorius School stands across the street from the non-existent Catholic school, Immaculate Conception, our old joint. It once had 1,600 kids, and that wasn't even the biggest school in the diocese. A parish in West Philadelphia once had almost twice that number – in a grade school. Immaculate, as old timers still call it, burned down in the 1960s and was never rebuilt. The church, a magnificent structure (it would be a cathedral in many cities) that took a quarter century to finance and build, stands empty, a Godless gray stone replica of a lost era.
There are few Germans in Germantown today. In fact, much of the old Germantown is not there anymore. At least that goes for East Germantown, where the former middle class lived. Many blocks, including the one where we grew up, have half the old houses gone. Ours, a three-story twin built around 1898, remains, although it is hard to tell, with its other half awkwardly missing. The houses that remain, in this and many other Philadelphia neighborhoods, are often empty, and those left should be. No glass, no grass.
There are many notable structures in Germantown, but many are idle or used for purposes far removed from their original concept. Department stores, which once made shopping trips to downtown unnecessary, are either empty or used for strange purposes. The corner where Chane's drug store was located, owned by Marvin Chane (who was later the owner of the Bahia Cabana in Fort Lauderdale), is simply unrecognizable.
With so much of East Germantown unrecognizable, why not take advantage of its unfair advantage, which is that an important Revolutionary War battle took place here. Folks from eastern Pennsylvania know the area well. But elsewhere, only history buffs know that on Oct. 4, 1777, George Washington attempted a surprise attack on a British army that had just driven his force out of Philadelphia, which at the time, was the capital of the U.S.
Washington lost the battle, due mostly to unusually foggy weather that screwed up his complicated plan for a three-pronged attack designed to surround the Brits. Two of his pincer units got lost; they never saw a British soldier. The central attack was initially successful, but was repelled when confused American forces fired on each other. Literally, the fog of war.
Even though it failed, the action had an impact on the war. When word reached Europe weeks later, military leaders, especially French generals, were impressed by the audacity of Washington's plan, and the fact that his ragtag army almost pulled it off. Had it worked, the Revolutionary War might have ended six years before it actually did. Arriving at the same time as Benedict Arnold's brilliant victory at Saratoga, the news gained respect for the Continental Army and helped the French decide to aid the American cause.
Unlike Gettysburg, fought in a rural area where development did not overtake history, Germantown eventually grew to be part of Philadelphia, with block after block of tightly packed housing, broken occasionally by older sections of large homes, today mostly divided into apartments. Only a few important sites are even recalled by historical markers. And yet the original battlefield, in its disjointed way, took up a lot space. The main attack began in Chestnut Hill, a few miles north of the heart of Germantown, which was built along a single road leading to Philadelphia, and the unsuccessful prongs of the planned envelopment spread for a few miles on both sides.
Not all that territory is a disaster today; parts are in the pleasant suburbs. But those considerable parts of Germantown no longer fit for human habitation could be razed and turned into a national park. Return it to farmland, which much of it probably was, use the classic old buildings as museums and tourist centers, employ thousands of reenactors to look silly in colonial outfits. Unlike Gettysburg, which has more reenactors than soldiers who took part in the original fight, there are only a few who take part in the occasional Germantown events. But they are men of great courage. They were safer in 1777 than they are in Germantown today.
Since much of Germantown is self-destructing, it might make sense to speed the progress and preserve a historic battlefield. You can begin with our old block. By the way, there’s an impressive church just across the street, just in case anybody gets shot and needs last rites.
4:55 p.m. Friday. The Auto Train leaves a few minutes early. Notice new Sanford commuter station, next to last on the northeast leg of SunRail – Central Florida's new version of Tri-Rail. Research ridership. It got 17,000 riders in one day – then, they started charging. Still, it’s averaging more than 4,000 daily riders in the first month – not bad considering only one half of the proposed 60-mile system is running. The other half to the southeast is not scheduled for several years. But unlike Tri-Rail, this train is on the right track, with three stations in downtown Orlando. It should be a big winner.
8:30 a.m. Saturday. Arrive in Northern Virginia right on time. Learned overnight that the previous reports that Auto Train makes money are no longer valid. Amtrak still claims that the train is profitable, but a confidential source says that’s no longer true. The signs are there. Cutting back on frills. No more free wine at dinner. No more welcome aboard cocktails. No more free fruit. Room attendants hinting about tips; never saw that in 30 years. Now, there are too many fat people who can barely fit in the narrow sleeping car corridors. If one of them falls in the diner car, it might turn the whole freaking train over. It’s still the best way to go north. It’s about $350 more than driving, but you save a full day and maybe your life. It should be running all over the country.
Noon. Read Washingtonian magazine. Founded 1965, same year as Gold Coast, making us among the oldest regional magazines. Also, the only magazine to share Gaeton Fonzi's 1980 story implicating the CIA in JFK's assassination. The big Washingtonian story this month is the fight to have a memorial for former President Dwight Eisenhower. It began in 1999, with seeming accord, but has turned into a capitol feud, getting worse with each decade, dissent among dozens of power players, including Eisenhower's descendants, made complicated because those feuding are dying off. Maybe a good thing. Almost 15 years later, project in limbo. Washington already has too many memorials.
3:30 p.m. Cocktails in kid’s backyard. We’re shown the newly re-bricked alley behind the house. Perfect place for grandkids to play, which they did until 4 p.m. when a wandering derelict scared everyone away with anti-social act. Retreated to the yard and called the cops. They asked if the subject was armed. Otherwise, they’re not likely to respond. … So much for a changing neighborhood. Daughter says neighborhood is much safer than in the past, but says to always be alert. Years back, wrote anti-mugging piece, pointing out that muggers sometimes pass going the other way, and then attack from behind. Guard against that by walking backwards, which can be tricky on Washington's uneven brick sidewalks.
9 a.m. Sunday. Mass at St. Peter's (c. 1820, rebuilt 1890) which has made a big comeback along with the Capitol Hill section … absurdly young congregation. They should rename the place “Our Mother of Day Care.” More babies than gray heads. Toddlers were running all over the church. Suffer the little children. This neighborhood revival owes much to the Florida House, which Rhea Chiles, wife of the late senator and Gov. Lawton Chiles, helped create 42 years ago. It took an abandoned, rundown property right across from the Supreme Court and made it a beautiful state embassy – the only state to have one, totally privately funded. The movement spread block by block. The late U.S. Rep. E. Clay Shaw and wife Emilie bought here, and now half of government lives in what used to be a slum.
10 a.m. Pancake breakfast with grandchildren at Eastern Market, another former eyesore now one of D.C.'s biggest attractions, especially for hungry children.
1 p.m. Went shopping in Alexandria, Va., the closet major center to Capitol Hill. Got component at Best Buy to make this stupid iPad work.
2:30 p.m. Made impromptu decision to visit Gravelly Point Park, which you can reach only by going through Reagan National Airport. There, hundreds gather to spend Father's Day watching jets taking off so close overhead you hear the wheels going up. Was it not that long ago that Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport had to throw everybody out of the way to provide a clear zone on both sides of the runway? How can Washington get away with making its supposed clear zone virtually a picnic area at the very end of a busy runway? Great fun anyway. Only thing better would be sitting on the wings.
3:45 p.m. Impromptu decision to stop at Garfield Park so kids can recreate. Wife immediately recognizes voice of Kathleen Sebelius, recently defrocked secretary of Health and Human Services, etc. who is there with toddler, likely a grandson, certainly not grandfather. For the occasion, she chose a top of Dolphins aqua, shorts a cross between cadmium and taupe and a shoulder bag somewhere between liberal tan and University of Tennessee cantaloupe orange. Daughter resists urge to confront her for criticizing those, such as daughter, who suspect a link between heavy doses of vaccines and the increase in autism among young kids.
8 p.m. After dinner, resist urge to stay up late and watch the Miami Heat lose final game.
7 a.m. Monday. Read Florida papers online. Impressed with grace with which Heat takes loss. Wife asks if basketball season is over. Advise that it is just about to begin.
9 a.m. to noon. Walk all over Washington looking for an open barbershop. Where are the girls of Las Olas when you need them?
1 p.m. Read email from Buddy Nevins who says recent quote in this stupid blog, "These are the events that alter and illuminate our times," comes from the 1950s TV show "You Are There." It was narrated by Walter Cronkite before he was Walter Cronkite. "Does this make me old?" Nevins asks. Well, it doesn't make him Kathleen Sebelius' grandson.
5 p.m. Cocktails in preparation for the World Cup.
6 p.m. Watch World Cup. Advise wife that two on U.S. team are from local high schools. She asks how long World Cup lasts. Tell her if they beat Ubumba and Socratia, they play countries we have heard of. If they win all, must play Spurs and winner of Wood Memorial.
9 p.m. Enjoy victory cocktails, and prepare to find open barbershop. Off to Philadelphia in the morning.
The great advantage of having beautiful 25-something editors is that they know how to run all the high-tech gadgets that dominate the publishing field in this young century. They understand terms such as Pinterest, the Cloud, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat. They also like likes.
The disadvantage is that when it comes to producing a 50th anniversary issue, which Gold Coastis planning for early next year, such skills are seriously compromised by the fact that the same people are often clueless about the local history and the people who made it. Such anniversaries are, by definition, a remembrance of people and their times, or places and the people - pretty much the same thing. And that can be tricky to do when hardly anybody on our juvenile-laden staff remembers events and people who altered and illuminated our times.* A further complication is that those who do remember are often below ground, or can't remember what they forgot.
Thus, it comes to pass when it comes to passing, our young folks will recognize the name Dan Marino, and maybe Bob Griese or Larry Csonka, all of whom kept their names current on TV. But, the people to whom they passed - such as Paul Warfield, Marv Fleming, Howard Twilley or the Marks brothers, just draw blank stares. Almost none of the young’uns knows Dr. Doug Swift, an Amherst grad who played on that undefeated team, and went on to become a distinguished anesthesiologist in Philadelphia. They may recognize Joe Robbie, largely because a few of us loyalists insist on calling it the former Joe Robbie Stadium, no matter how many times they change the name. The same goes for Chris Evert (pictured above in 1979) because of a medical facility, George English (park), Brian Piccolo (ditto) or Virginia Young (school).
When you glance at our archived issues from the 1960s and '70s, there aren't that many around who relate to people who often graced our issues. We speak of Gov. R.H. Gore (no, he wasn't governor of Florida) or Lewis Parker or Theresa Castro or Milton Weir or Yolanda Maurer (she made every issue when she owned the book) or Hamilton Forman or Lambert and Paul Holm or Joseph Taravella or Tom and Foy Fleming or Elliott Barnett or Dr. Kenneth Williams or the Radice brothers or Jim Bishop. And the younger set may even have trouble identifying figures who stayed in the limelight, meaning our pages, for years later. Don McClosky, Bill Farkas, Dr. Abe Fischler, Frank Borman, Bob Cox, Nick Sindicich, Prince Michael of Austria, also known as Michael Waldbaum – after he got arrested for running a stolen luxury car ring.
As you might guess, all these storied figures, and literally hundreds more, will figure in our anniversary issue. If we can just remember their names.
* This phrase is an obvious theft from a once-prominent TV show. Anyone who can identify it will get a free drink at Nick’s, except it closed in 1987.
