Bernie's Blog

Care for Coffey?

by Bernard McCormick Tuesday, January 04, 2011 No Comment(s)

I spent some time with Kendall Coffey, Esq. recently and a longer essay will appear in a future issue of Gold Coast. But for the moment, let’s plug his new book, Spinning the Law: Trying Cases in the Court of Public Opinion. As the title suggests, it has to do with lawyers playing the press. The first chapter goes from Scott Rothstein to Joan of Arc, a pretty good historic wingspan. If that sounds like a readable book, it is. Coffey deals with many cases, from the O.J. Simpson trial to the recent Rod Blagojevich. Even in cases on which he was on the losing side, he points out how the cases changed law, mostly for the better. In general he values the First Amendment, which made me like him right away. He obviously likes reporters, even though not all his own press has been wonderful.


As a former U.S. attorney, he has been watching the corruption scandals breaking on the Gold Coast, first in Palm Beach County, now in Broward. Is Miami next, he wondered. When the name Mike Satz came up, in terms of the abuse he has been taking for ignoring the den of thieves in his own neighborhood, Coffey was sympathetic. He said most investigations of local corruption are done by the feds, for the simple reason that state attorneys are part of the same system that keeps them in work. They get campaign funds from the same people who they might have to indict in a few weeks. They stand up to be recognized at the same social functions with people they know should be in jail. That last illustration is mine, not Coffey’s, but I know he would agree with it. In contrast, the federal people tend to move around, and almost always avoid the spotlight. In our magazine's occasional list of the Gold Coast’s most powerful people, not one federal figure has been included.


Coffey’s book is filled with names we all know. He mentions Roy Black a number of times –interesting because both men have similar styles. Low key, respectful, almost courtly. A jury just likes them from the go, especially when they have read about them in the papers. Forget that nonsense about jurors not knowing about a sensational case in advance. That is one of the themes of this book. It makes it as good a read for lawyers as it is for those of us in the fourth estate. By the way, what are the three estates in front of us?


He’s not local, but the name Richard Sprague is in the book. Sprague, still active in his 80s, is a brilliant Philadelphia lawyer, who in the late 1970s went to Washington to head the re-investigation into the President Kennedy assassination. He came under immense pressure after he started to look into the CIA. If he could have survived the pressure, much of it from the press, we would know for sure today that our government murdered an American president. For more on that, read Gaeton Fonzi’s The Last Investigation, which started out as articles in Gold Coast. Nothing wrong with self-plugging, is there?
The Rules of the Game

by Bernard McCormick Tuesday, December 14, 2010 No Comment(s)

 

The Miami Heat, with three of the best players in the world, are starting to play like everybody expected. So, basketball is much in the news. It is in my news too, for a different reason. My college team lost a close basketball game last week. We almost upset a very good team on national television, and the win would have meant a lot to our program. The upsetting part is that we were robbed. We were ahead with a minute to go and one of our guys went for a lay-up, there was noticeable contact, he missed, the other team rebounded and raced down the court. One of our guys tried to stop the fast break, made light contact and got called for a foul. On top of that, the other team scored on the play, and made the foul shot. That was the game. The non-call at one end of the floor and the bad call at the other made a five-point swing and we couldn’t catch up. Had the foul on our guy been called, and he made two free throws, it would have been a whole different game.

 

 
To his credit, our disappointed coach did not blame the officials. However, the announcers, maybe rooting for the underdog, replayed the two actions and wondered how one play could be a foul and the other wasn’t. Especially at the end of a close game when every play and foul shot is crucial. It brought up the larger question of how much referees have changed this sport. It has become faster and infinitely rougher. Star players get away with all kinds of stuff that would have been violations a few decades back.
 
When Dr. James Naismith hung up that peach basket in 1891, he consciously came up with rules to control the pace of the game, and make it a safe indoor sport. For years you were allowed just one step after picking up the dribble. If players in old film seemed slower, they were, but they also bounced the ball regularly. It gave the slower and shorter players a chance. But that chance is greatly diminished when offensive players look like the triple jump guys at a track meet, and things such as palming the ball and either charging over or bulling through defenders are routinely ignored by officials.
 
The result is a game that gets more like football every season. We might see helmets and shoulder pads one of these years. Last year my school lost three of its starting lineup in the first few months of the season. Two of them were out for the season, and another barely made it back at the end. It used to be that injuries in basketball were not common. Today, the professional teams are constantly banged up and college isn’t much better. Much of the reason is that the refs permit so much contact, and players on offense are schooled to make that contact, hoping to create three-point plays. At one time, the offensive player had to go around the defense. The hook shot was developed to let a player get off his shot without jamming the ball or elbow in another’s face. The disappearance of the charging call is probably the most serious and annoying change in the modern game. You often see situations where the offensive player with the ball and the defender are basically moving on parallel courses, until the offensive player alters direction to initiate contact and draw a foul. The rule should be that the player who initiates the contact is guilty, but today the guy going to the basket has to run into a player as set as a mail box to warrant the call.
 
Well, at least there’s the three-point shot and one-and-one bonus to reward the accurate player and bring the game back to what it started out to be. I wonder if James Naismith would recognize his invention today. And would he be thrilled with the evening gowns which have replaced the uniforms he knew?
 
Day of Infamy

by Bernard McCormick Tuesday, December 07, 2010 1 Comment(s)

We have two options for today, Dec. 7 - not quite the 70th anniversary of the day that will live in infamy. We can say something about Pearl Harbor, or, more current, we can muse on the fact that a record cold snap has hit South Florida. Why not both?

I forget the weather in Elmira, N.Y., that day when my father went to mass and my mother, listening to the radio, suddenly became all excited and began shouting, "We are at war!" I had just turned 5 but I already knew there was a war on. The English were fighting the Germans, and the kids in the neighborhood were divided. Some, who spoke English, were rooting for the Brits. Others, who did not speak German, were with the Nazis. Better uniforms. But somehow at that young age, I knew it did not affect us. Until my mother got excited.

I wanted to be the first to alert my father, so I waited on the porch on Mount Zoar Street to see his car, a black Chevy, come over the little rise on the road. When he got home I shouted about the war. He said, “I know son. They announced it at church.” We did not know that day what lay ahead over the next four years. We did not know that my cousin Tommy McCormick, who I hardly knew, but got to know better when we moved back to Philadelphia, would become a Navy pilot and die at Iwo Jima. Or that almost 65 years later we would learn that the Navy thought at the time that his plane had been hit by friendly fire. Nor did we know that a distant cousin, Billy McCann, who I did not know at all and don’t recall ever meeting, would die flying a transport plane over the famous “Hump” in Burma after the war had ended.
 
There was great excitement in Elmira following the beginning of the war. Everybody was pumped with patriotism. There were rumors of submarines nearby. The Chemung River, which ran through Elmira, was only a few feet deep, unless it flooded. There must have been an army base nearby, because my parents had arranged for some soldiers to have Christmas dinner with us. I was hugely looking forward to that, and hugely disappointed when just days before the big night all leaves were cancelled. Rumors of spies in the neighborhood, or something like that.
 
My father always went to bed early, and got up early, a habit that has proved contagious. Christmas eve he was in bed when my mother let me come down to open presents. Among mine were a child’s version of the tin metal helmet – the kind our guys wore in World War I, and still used in the early days of the second encounter – and a drum. I told my mother I wanted to show daddy what Santa had brought me. She said okay. I ran upstairs, banging the drum, into my father’s bedroom, probably singing the national anthem as well. His reaction was swift. He whacked me and said, “shut the hell up and get in bed.”
 
Upon reflection, I probably would have done the same. But years later, when I jokingly told the story for the hundredth time, my father said: “Bern, I’ve always been sorry I did that, because you never forgot it.” I have also not forgotten that it was one of the few unkind things he ever did to anyone.
 
Back to weather. There was snow that winter and where we lived had been a farm house. The farm was abandoned, but there were still furrows in the empty fields, and the snow made them seem like small mountains to little kids. My brother and I played in the snow, climbing over the furrows. Between our house and the river there were woods, and some days we could hear gun shots of hunters stalking something in the woods. Those were not the only shots heard that winter.
 
Separation of Church and Street

by Bernard McCormick Tuesday, November 30, 2010 3 Comment(s)

 

First: Conflict of interest. I live in Colee Hammock. As opposed to the elected officials who are going to jail, I (also known as we) I (we) bring this up front. If only those thieves in government would state the truth. Something like this: "I have no interest in this matter, unless you count my husband, whose job depends on this being passed."

 

 
Back to go: The Civil War on Las Olas. This is the fight between Colee Hammock and the First Presbyterian Church. You have read all about it. Now, the neighborhood - led by our home owners association president, Jerry Jordan - is taking the offensive. Forget the fight about the church wanting to put a 5-story garage on Las Olas. Now the neighborhood is fighting the church over closing streets for Sunday services.
 
This has been going on for some years. Jordan’s argument, strongly backed by neighbors affected by the closing, is that the church never got permission to close streets. The church says it is a safety issue. You know, little kids, etc. Jordan counters by pointing out that St. Anthony, not far away, does not close streets. Nor does First Baptist on busy Broward Boulevard. The bottom line is that First Pres, as we fondly call it, uses the neighborhood for social events related to busy Sunday services.
 
The point, obviously, is that the neighbors, who are close to 100 percent against the church expansion, are on the offensive. Rumors say half of First Pres congregants are against the expansion and the ill will that it has caused. Further rumors say a divine intervention may be on the way. It goes back some years in the history of religion. "Christians, love one another." I don’t exactly know what saint coined that phrase but I (also known as we) will take it until something better comes along.
Report From The Club Scene

by Bernard McCormick Wednesday, November 17, 2010 No Comment(s)


Two weeks ago following the Fort Lauderdale Historical Society's Founders Dinner, which honored Wayne Huizenga as "Man of the Centennial," we expressed amazement that the dinner raised an estimated $400,000 for the Historical Society. That’s about four times the usual proceeds from a dinner that has long been a major fundraiser for the group. We wondered if any local dinner had ever topped that, or if any similar event sold out and had a long waiting list without even having to send out invitations.

And with that, we went up to the Treasure Coast to visit some private clubs where we made the mistake of wondering aloud to the director of the prestigious Bear’s Club if any dinner up that way had ever made such money. Nonchalantly, she mentioned that two recent dinners at the club had raised more than $1 million. However, we are pretty sure those dinners sent out invitations and the invitees were the cream of Palm Beach, many of whom threw in a generous contribution with their table price. The Bear's Club was built by Jack Nicklaus, as a great golf course first, and a club with limited residences as a second thought. Among the residents are Ernie Els, soon to be joined by Michael Jordan, and the outside membership is equally forceful, with such names as Wayne Huizenga and Roger Penske.

We chanced upon the Bear's Club not really by chance, but as part of a survey for Gulfstream Media Group’s Treasure Coast publications on private clubs in the Treasure Coast area. The Jupiter area has to be one of the most over clubbed places on the planet. There are at least a dozen in a five square mile area, which includes Palm Beach Gardens and North Palm Beach. A place that used to be defined by a famous lighthouse might today be called "Country Club Haven." In several cases they are next to each other.

Almost all of them can trace their history to land owned by John D. MacArthur, who at one time owned 100,000 acres in Florida, much of it north of Palm Beach. MacArthur started the country club development in the 1960s with JDM, which underwent changes of ownership before becoming Ballenisles. Later, he and his wife’s foundation sold off additional land tracts, much of it now sprawling clubs. Burt Haft and Jack Gaines, who developed Inverrary, built Frenchman’s Creek in the 1970s, and other clubs soon followed.

It has created a very competitive market for the credit-worthy buyer, and the oldest clubs are now upgrading facilities to attract new members, replacing the original, aging residents. They have to. In a tough economy, clubs are not exempt from hardship. Most of the major financial publications have covered the story – clubs under strain with declining memberships. The National Golf Foundation published the telling stats: Up to 20 percent of clubs nationally are in financial distress. Those troubled clubs’ membership is down 29 percent from their peaks. Golf rounds are down 22 percent. Fifty-seven percent of country clubs are operating at a loss.

Clubs have to be agile to improve facilities to attract new families before the older members get too old to care (meaning, pay for stuff they won’t long use). Some clubs in Palm Beach and Broward Counties already missed the boat. Some have been forced to go public, which doesn’t mean the same thing as in the stock market. The other choice is to sell off the golf course, and there goes the neighborhood.

It’s happening all over. The National Golf Foundation quotes one expert as saying 20 percent of the 4,700 private country clubs in the U.S. won’t be here five years from now.
Ethanol: Has its time come at last?

by Bernard McCormick Tuesday, November 09, 2010 No Comment(s)

 

The story was buried inside the national news section of the local papers, but the announcement of Florida’s first ethanol plant may have long-range consequences for a state seeking an industry to complement tourism and agriculture. The venture will be located next to a landfill in Indian River County and will produce ethanol from waste. The $100 million contract is going to a Georgia firm. It is expected to produce 175 construction jobs and 50 full-time jobs when completed. The plant hopes to produce 8 million gallons of ethanol annually, as well as some electricity as a by-product.

 

 
 
Florida Agricultural Commissioner Charles Bronson said two more Florida plants are scheduled to open in the next few years. The surprise here is the company involved: INEOS New Planet BioEnergy – a joint venture in Vero Beach. It is being launched with the help of federal and state grants designed to spur the search for new fuels. It was previously reported that U.S. Sugar in Clewiston was negotiating with a Illinois company to make ethanol from sugar cane waste, but that venture is apparently still on hold.
 
 
Is this the beginning, as Bronson has stated, of an industry that could grow to 3 billion gallons of ethanol a year and produce 100,000 jobs? One sure hopes so. But there are skeptics who question the competitiveness of ethanol, even if produced less expensively than the current technology using corn. They claim it is less efficient than gasoline (making the economies illusory) and that it can harm engines, especially in the marine field. But proponents say flex engines are being built to use combinations of ethanol and gasoline, and eventually ethanol alone. If the latter can be developed fairly quickly, it would seem Bronson’s optimism is warranted.
 
 
What nobody doubts is that if there is a place for ethanol to become king, it is Florida. Things grow here very fast and scientists are figuring out ways to use all kinds of natural bio mass, from wood chips to sugar cane waste and even – as in the Indian River case – garbage, to produce ethanol. Last year, we fantasized about an “ethanol prairie” developing around sparsely populated Lake Okeechobee, bringing a well paying and environmentally sensitive industry to an undeveloped section of the state. It would also bring a source of renewable fuel to South Florida’s doorstep, logically leading to lower prices for the area.
 
 
It was reported that the only thing holding up the emerging industry was the decline in gas prices from recent scary highs. Prices are lower now. And if this ethanol exploration proves as effective as hoped, they may just stay that way.
Wayne’s Night: A Dinner to Remember

by Bernard McCormick Tuesday, November 02, 2010 No Comment(s)

There probably aren’t records available on the subject, but it is hard to imagine that any non-profit event in local history ever topped Friday night at the Ritz-Carlton on the beach. H. Wayne Huizenga’s being honored as “Man of the Centennial” by the Fort Lauderdale Historical Society has to be a first in several respects.

For starters, who ever heard of an event being sold out without even sending invitations? When Dr. Harry Moon told fellow trustees of the Fort Lauderdale Historical Society in mid-summer that Huizenga had agreed to be the honoree at the annual Founders Dinner (this year kicking off the city’s 100th anniversary celebration), the sponsorship response was so immediate that all of the 44 original tables were gone within weeks. So strong was the demand, that a decision was made to eliminate the dance floor to add an additional six tables. And as the night approached, Gale Butler at Auto Nation, who coordinated the evening, was bombarded with requests for tickets. At one point, despite the added tables, she had a waiting list of 100 names. Normally, organizations who buy tables have some open seats, but not in this case.

Auto Nation President Mike Jackson wasn’t kidding when he opened the program by saying that despite competition from the Fort Lauderdale International Boat Show and the Miami Heat’s opening home game, this was the toughest ticket in town. People who usually are regarded as desirable guests at any function were wondering why they never got invitations and were beseeching friends to find an extra seat or two. The lineup of companies supporting the dinner was the power of South Florida, and the attendees were a “Who’s Who” of the area’s business, political and sports leaders.

The evening lived up to billing. Jackson did an excellent job as master of ceremonies, the entertainment was outstanding and unexpected (Huizenga’s Irish friend, John McWinney, flew across the pond for a surprise appearance, and the non-professional singer belted out several songs) and Jim O’Connor, Steve Berrard, George Johnson and Dan Marino all gave excellent and amusing tributes to the man they have worked with in various capacities.

The best news was the bottom line. Jackson said the proceeds from the dinner were more than $600,000, and with much of the expenses picked up by contributing organizations, the benefit to the Historical Society is likely a record setter as well. In past years the organization was pleased to realize $80,000 from the night that always has a high profile honoree.

The “Man of the Centennial” may just have given Fort Lauderdale the dinner of the centennial.
The Applicant

by Bernard McCormick Tuesday, October 26, 2010 No Comment(s)

The Office of Career Politicians, Tuesday, Oct. 26, 2010:
 
 
“Good morning, I'd like to fill out an application to become a career politician.”
 
 
“Excellent, what office are you seeking?”
 
 
“Whatever you have.”
 
 
“Current employment?”
 
 
“I’m currently unemployed, but my benefits are running out. I just see a lot on TV about career politicians and I need something fast.”
 
 
“Race, creed and national origin?”
 
 
“All of these. Whatever works. I want to get a PIC going so I can get some income.”
 
 
“PIC? Do you mean PAC?”
 
 
“Whatever. One of them Karl Rove things. I want one of them things where people send you money and nobody cares what happens to it. Like that fella in Miami.”
 
 
“But you need transparency, or you might get your name in the paper.”
 
 
“Oh yes, completely. I will account for every penny. Just get me the money. I believe in transparency. What I’m doing now is transparent. I want money for doing nothing so that I can run for something and win and get more money and still do nothing.”
 
 
“Well, you want to avoid any problems with ethics, friend.”
 
 
“I have no problem with ethics. Let me make this very clear. I will have a platform of more jobs, lower taxes, less government, more services for the poor, more soccer fields for the rich, more of everything. I’m pro life, for abortion rights, family values, gay and lesbian rights, the ten commandments, second amendment rights, amendment four, more planes and guns and getting government off our backs.”
 
 
“What I mean is you might get a call from the newspapers asking how you spend this money.”
 
 
“That’s no problem. I need my car fixed and I need gas and I need to hire my mother as a consultant.”
 
 
“Now you’re thinking. What will your mother do?”
 
 
“She will give the money to my wife for consulting and hire my brother and his son. He’s in real estate and he can rent an office.”
 
 
“Have you picked a location?”
 
 
“Yes, several. One’s in Hobe Sound. Another is in the islands. We have some nice views in Donegal and we’re looking into something on the French Riviera.”
 
 
“I see you have thought this out. What about when they ask you about sources of income.”
 
 
“I'm working for the government on classified projects. Can’t discuss it because of national security. Personal. It will be career politics and completely transparent and it’s nobody’s business.”
 
 
“What is your party affiliation? You need that to be a career politician.”
 
 
“Republican and Democrat. Independent. Tea Party. Libertarian. Whig. Tory. No nothing. Round Head. Whatever works. I want to represent all the people and I want all the people to send me money, and I need it fast. My electric is off. The check for the telephone bounced. The old lady is going crazy.”
 
 
“Well, that’s a good sign. It shows you manage your finances. A lot of career politicians can’t do that. I trust you have never been indicted.”
 
 
“Not on purpose. You know, nobody’s perfect. There was a little tax problem. And I got involved in a homicide. But that’s personal. I want to move forward so that at the end of the day, I can get checks. A lot of checks."
 
 
“Any other legal problems which might surface in a campaign?”
 
 
“No. Except I took the Fifth Amendment 75,000 times. But that wasn’t my idea. My lawyer made me do it.”
 
 
“Can that be documented?”
 
 
“Yes, call my probation officer.”
 
 
“Beautiful. Your papers are in order. We’ll cut your first check in the morning. Oh, one last question. What is your name?”
 
 
“Maaaaaaaaaah name José Jiménez!”
The Molly Maguires and the Chilean Experience

by Bernard McCormick Monday, October 18, 2010 No Comment(s)

 

The dramatic rescue of the Chilean miners included a lot of background on the mining industry. It included spots on the influence of unions in the U.S. to effect safety standards which have made the underground work much safer – at least in our country. The news from Chile happened to intersect with two projects I have been working on during off hours. One is an update of my family tree, which began with a man born in Ireland in 1803 who somehow cared about genealogy when the average Irishmen did not know the word. The other is a book on the history of magazines such as our Gulfstream Media’s flagship Gold Coast and other titles moving up the coast to Martin County.

 

 
 
First, a touch of family history. My maternal great grandfather died in a mine accident in Pennsylvania in 1875. The irony is that he was not a miner. He went into a mine on some kind of chamber of commerce Sunday tour, and it collapsed. We have another connection which will come later. First, the book. In looking over issues from the 1960s when Philadelphia Magazine, my old joint, invented the new media we now call city/regional magazines, I came across a cover story on the making of the film “The Molly Maguires.” It was a good movie, but was a disappointment at the box office. It starred Sean Connery and Richard Harris. Connery, face darkened with coal dust, was on the magazine cover. The inside black and white photos were a masterpiece. Some of those shots will definitely be in the book.
 
 
The Molly Maguries, often shortened to Mollies, were a group of immigrant Irish miners in Pennsylvania who struggled in the 1860s and 1870s for better working conditions and pay for a very dangerous job. Some historians view the movement as an extension of the Irish troubles in the old world which most of the miners had fled. In fact, the name itself emigrated from Ireland where it had been a secret organization resisting British rule. The Mollies were mostly Catholic boys and the mine owners mostly Welsh Protestants. They did not much like each other. The movement became violent, with many deaths. More Irish were killed that mine bosses, but it was nasty business either way. Eventually the mine owners broke the Mollies by infiltrating them with a Pinkerton detective, played by Richard Harris in the film. The film was shot in the small town of Eckley in the Pennsylvania coal regions. It was an old fashioned looking place, and the set designers merely had to take down electrical stuff and dirt over the streets to create an authentic period look. Philadelphia Magazine sent Gaeton Fonzi, later a regular contributor to our Florida magazines, up to Eckley to do a behind-the-scenes story. He had access to the stars and his story was a great read.
 
 
Now we backtrack to family history. The leaders in the Molly Maguires were eventually tried and 20 were hung. One of them was named Alexander Campbell. My mother, who passed the family tree information down from her grandfather, had been told that Campbell was a relative, perhaps a cousin, of my mother’s grandmother, Mary Campbell. There were four other men named Campbell who were mentioned at the trials as members of the Molly Maguires. My mother never knew the exact connection. It was lore, rather than documented information, but I have found that lore in family trees is often reality.
 
 
The trials of the Mollies were controversial. At the least they were rigged, with bribed witnesses, and jurors of Dutch ancestry who barely understood English. The alleged leader of the Mollies was hung, but almost a century later Pennsylvania Governor Milton Shapp gave him an official pardon, the only one in Pennsylvania history. And to this day there is division of opinion over the movement. Some historians regard them as murdering terrorists who got what they deserved. The descendants of those men, however, hold them as heroes who were the forerunners of the first important labor union, the United Mine Workers. Today, thanks to public employee unions taking advantage of the rest of us, the word union is not universally revered. But in the nineteenth century they were admirable institutions, bringing better wages and safety to many industries, including garment workers and railroading. And in the case of the United Mine Workers, the union forced the kind of safety improvements that were a sidebar to the Chilean miners story.
 
 
In general, the Mollies have done well by history. The Cleveland Indians were originally the Cleveland Molly Maguires. And there are numerous bars bearing the name. As for Alexander Campbell being family, I guess we could check that out if we spent enough time with the Mormon genealogical records. Maybe one day we will. In the meantime, it is satisfying to stick with lore.
The Unheralded Herald

by Bernard McCormick Wednesday, October 13, 2010 1 Comment(s)

Nobody around here seems to read The Miami Herald anymore, so we take the occasion to bring you up to speed on what you may have missed. On Sunday, Carl Hiaasen, the Herald’s star, on and off the newspaper pages, got off on Amendment 4. He did not exactly endorse it, but he gave an eloquent expression of the reasons so many people support it. The amendment will probably fail, and it should, because of unintended consequences, but the motive behind it could not be more valid. People are fed up with crooked politicians ignoring the will of the people when it comes to development.


When we say “crooked” we don’t necessarily mean money-crooked, in the sense of people taking flat out bribes such as we have seen in Broward County. Hiaasen used gentler terms, but he clearly meant that zoning hearings are a charade. Planning and Zoning Boards, and then local city commissions, pretend to listen to the public, when in reality the votes are counted months before they actually are cast. Behind the scenes players, lobbyists for developers, have gotten the word to the civil servants, also known as staff, that certain deals are done and they better like it or hit the road. It doesn’t make any difference if 100 percent of the people in a neighborhood oppose a development; it is going to pass because the deal is fixed.


There is no better local example of this than the fight between the First Presbyterian Church and its Colee Hammock neighbors. I have a dog in this fight; in fact, I am the dog in the fight because I live there. And I can say without fear of contradiction, that almost everybody who lives in this historic neighborhood is against the massive expansion of the church. There are some renters who may not care, and commercial property owners on Las Olas who want a massive building next to them, because then they can then go to the zoning board and say, in so many words, “You gave it to them, now I’m next. You gave them five stories. I only want ten.”


What makes this case so interesting is that many members of the church are opposed to the expansion. Only a few members live in Colee Hammock but they are among the most vocal opponents of their own church. Among them is Andy Costa, who is a member of the Session of the church. That’s a ruling body of about 25 people. Costa, who lives close to the church and is one of those whose property values will be most affected by the expansion, has made himself a pariah because of his opposition. He is convinced the fix is in. Fix is my term, not his. But not all the First Presbyterian members are happy. The church has never had a vote among its own members on this project. If they did, they might lose.


Says Costa: “There are certainly a lot of people who have withdrawn pledges. Many friends I have in the church have asked for money back. I just know for sure there are many people against it. The Session has chastised me for coming out and voicing my opinion. I am supposed to be silent, not profess my opposition, but I do it because it’s my right. Many people think the church doesn’t need this extra space to grow the ministry. I told them, I’m not your enemy. I begged them to get out of their seats and walk the neighborhood, to see what they are destroying. Nobody did it.”


If this sounds like anger, it’s exactly what Carl Hiaasen has sensed on a much broader level. Colee Hammock, which has people of wealth and smarts, is filled with signs rooting for Amendment 4. Many of the residents don’t think it is a good idea, but they are not tearing down signs. They are mad as hell. The politicians don’t seem to get it. But they will soon enough.