Bob Griese was able to announce a Rose Bowl game in which his son Brian starred without mentioning any connection to the young quarterback. But that was not Tom Oxley’s style. When working the public address at Royal Palm Polo in Boca Raton it wasn’t unusual for him to blurt out things such as “Look at my brother Jack ride!” or spot somebody in the crowd and shout “There’s my friend from Gold Coast Magazine, folks, give him a hand.”
Oxley, who died last week, had a style of his own and for years he was a highly entertaining voice of polo at Royal Palm. His bubbling, sometimes inarticulate enthusiasm added to the excitement of the sport. He was also manager of the polo club. Later he became a great supporter of Florida Atlantic University. The Oxley Center at FAU bears his name after he made a major contribution to build it.
Tom Oxley came from a wealthy Oklahoma oil family. His whole family played polo and at one time he was one of the top young players in the country. That was before a fall with a horse almost killed him the late 1960s. He was in a coma for a month. His recovery was considered a near miracle. He was an early recipient of patterning, in which paralyzed people are neurologically retrained.
He never played polo again, although he did get back on a horse. Doctors considered it too risky for a man who spent the rest of his life with a slight limp and somewhat slurred speech. It never stopped him from enjoying sports and life in general. A few years ago this magazine wanted to photograph him for a story on FAU. A regular at Fort Lauderdale’s Mai-Kai, Oxley insisted on posing between two Mai-Kai beauties. He and his family will be remembered for sustaining polo in South Florida for decades, and for his generous support of a local university.
Recently the Miami City Commission passed an ordinance to authorize a class in ethics training for people entering public life. It passed unanimously, 3-0. There are five members on the commission but two did not vote because of conflicts of interest. They have been indicted.
One of the commissioners who voted for the resolution also has a mild conflict. He is regarded as ethical, and therefore has a built-in conflict of interest. Marc Sarnoff, you may recall, sort of blew the whistle on a fellow commissioner a few years back when he reported the commissioner was all but advertising a willingness to make some extra money on the job. Sarnoff, of course, had no choice but to vote for ethics training, although he observed that any 8-year-old who doesn’t understand what ethics means probably never will.
Although we generally confine our comments to events in the
- True or false: Conflict of interest means if a developer, who needs your vote on a controversial project, asks your advice on a $50,000 community outreach job to explain to folks how great his controversial development is. You then discover that another commissioner has been offered the same deal. True or false: Is this a conflict?
2. Select one: In order to get the best possible person for the $50,000 outreach job, you recommend:
(a) your brother-in-law
(b) your spouse
(c) your pastor
(d) all of these
- Select one: As a legislator, you get a lot of money for your local college from the state. You are then offered a $50,000 job teaching a course at the college, which takes three hours a week. To make sure everything is above board, you should seek a legal opinion from:
(a) your brother-in-law
(b) your spouse
(c) your pastor
(d) all of these
- You are an elected official angling for a contract to do some sludge. Although you abstained from voting because of a possible conflict of interest, you find yourself under suspicion. You should:
(a) delete all your e-mails
(b) tell your computer company your computer ate your stuff
(c) set your computer on fire
(d) tell you law partner’s mother to delete her e-mails
(e) all of these
- You are a public official invited on a boat ride to introduce a contractor to important people. After about 20 drinks you realize everybody but you, including the contractor, is with the FBI. You should:
(a) call your lawyer to arrange a plea bargain
(b) burst into tears
(c) dive into the river
(d) all of these
6. You are a lawyer making $40,000 a year. You are offered $200,000 by a new firm, providing you gave back half of it in campaign contributions. Ethically, you should:
(a) accept the job, and refuse to make contributions
(b) accept the job, and call your lawyer to plea bargain
(c) accept the job, and open a bank account in
(d) accept the job, do what you are told, and when the feds arrive announce you are resigning to spend more time with your family
- Which of these doesn’t belong?
a. Rothstein
b. Rosenfeldt
c. Adler
d. Gillie and Norman, P.A.
- You bill Medicare for $23 million for non-existent patients. Is this unethical?
(a) Only if the IRS catches you
(b) Only if it violates the nine commandments
(c) Not if you split it with the patients
(d) None of these
- You are asked for advice on an ethics class you have just approved. You propose a $50,000 contract for a consultant to run the program. Your choice is:
(a) your brother-in-law
(b) your spouse
(c) your pastor
(d) all of these
- After giving your brother-in-law the contract for the ethics program, media question your impartiality. You then vote for a contract to hire an independent contractor to monitor the ethics czar. You award that contract to:
(a) your brother-in-law’s wife
(b) your spouse
(c) your pastor
(d) your brother-in-law’s 8-year-old son
Of course, there is no way to evaluate your answers to these questions, so no grades are issued. That is because ethics are a personal matter, and there are privacy issues involved. To invade your privacy when it comes to stealing would, of course, be unethical. So grade yourself. Consider it an honor system.
Last year's New Year's resolution was to avoid writing anything on uniforms, which many, including my wife, regard as a stupid subject compared to Scott Rothstein, employee unions taking over governments and the breeding habits of animals in captivity.
We made it almost all the way through football season. The college game is about over, the pros are winding down. And yet, in just the last few weeks, there have been so many occasions when McCormick's theory of uniforms has been validated, that we have to get in a shot in the hope that it will make the next decade a better place for all who watch football on television.
Take the Dolphins. We had the pleasure of covering the undefeated team before it was the undefeated team. The year was 1971, and Don Shula led his men onto the field on a cold December Sunday in Foxboro, Mass. They looked like champs. Actually, they lost that game to the Patriots, but that's not the point. At no time during that season, or the next great year, or for a number of years, did the Dolphins ever wear those stupid green pants. At home they usually came out in their white uniforms and won, and won and won.
More recently the Dolphins have lost their identity by often wearing the green pants, with often disastrous results. They had that game two weeks ago won against Buffalo until the green pants caused a last quarter blow up. However, this past weekend they came out dressed for success, wearing uniforms virtually unchanged from the picture here displayed, and they pulled off that miracle comeback against the Patriots. The Patriots, by the way, were wearing throwback suits, not bad looking really, but not the uniforms which have brought them success in recent years. Late season is not the time for throwbacks, nostalgia be damned. They should fire their equipment manager. It is not that Dolphins in green pants look bad; rather, it is that in all white they look great, like the legendary teams that first wore those uniforms.
Uniforms count. Look at Texas, Penn State, Notre Dame (well, not this year) USC, Oklahoma, Michigan - to name just the most tradition rich schools with the most traditional looks. They may not be flashy uniforms, but they have won in the past and the players, fans, everybody takes pride in their look. Howard Schnellenberger knows this. He personally designed Florida Atlantic's uniforms.
We might also mention Alabama, and here's the heart of the matter. Alabama beat Florida last weekend wearing the same uniforms Joe Namath wore in the 1960s. Same numbers on the helmets, rather than a logo. None of those slash-and-burn stripes so popular with classless schools. Florida, in contrast, virtually threw the game when they came out with a look none had seen before.
Now, it must be noted that Florida has achieved great success mixing up its look. They have worn all blue, except for the orange helmet, they have worn blue pants with white jerseys, sometimes orange pants, and the only combination that looks good - blue jerseys with white pants and orange helmets. That they achieved such success is virtually without precedent. So for the biggest game of the year they come out in all white, with a big "F" on their helmets instead of "Gators," which they have worn for years. And if the way they played did not look like the Florida team of the last two years - exactly. Aestehetically the uniforms were pleasing, almost Dolphinsesque, compared to Alabama's mundane outfits. But Alabama knew it was Alabama, and played like champions. If Florida players looked in the mirror, they would not have recognized themselves as the team they were supposed to be, and they played like it.
The tragedy of it all is that they did all this on purpose. Check UF's Web site. Nike is promoting that white helmet with the big "F" as part of a new look. It suggests it is all about money. Those who design uniforms need change, in order to sell stuff to high schools and kids leagues who imitate the colleges and the pros. They also sell thousands more shirts to all the silly fans who must buy every baseball hat, football or hockey shirt, and even those stupid green pants, that they see on their favorite teams. New Year's resolution for all sports franchises. Dress for success, not for cash.
For weeks there have been rumors of a connection between jailed lawyer Scott Rothstein and the Las Olas Company’s problems with its ambitious Riverside Hotel expansion. Thursday the story broke in Dan Christensen’s new blog, Broward Bulldog. Christensen last week broke the story of a lawsuit by the Wells family, owners of the
Christensen reports Bowen was fired in July, months after arranging a one-year loan at 14 percent. That, at a time of record low interest rates. His blog also said Bowen mortgaged the hotel, a mortgage since paid off, and borrowed additional money from other sources active on Las Olas Boulevard.
The report adds one more bizarre element to the Rothstein saga and leaves many questions unanswered. Foremost, was the loan legit in the first place, or just one of Rothstein’s fake investments to lure money into his Ponzi network? Christensen says Barbara Wells, heiress to the Wells family fortune, may have taken a huge hit. Christensen previously reported that the failed expansion, involving knocking down a half block of popular restaurants and night spots, deprived the Las Olas Company of substantial rental revenue. It also resulted in many people losing their jobs and deprived Las Olas Boulevard of one of its best traffic draws, affecting the ambiance of one of
It is a depressing turn in the history of the charming hotel, which goes back to 1935 when the Wells family opened it as the Champ Carr. The family, notably low key over many years, literally built Las Olas. They owned most of the surrounding property and stores. They expanded the hotel in recent years and seemed poised to add even more vitality with the expansion to the east.
It seems as if there should be another side to this story. We tried to reach Irv Bown but were advised that his lawyers won’t let him comment at this time.
For Christensen, it accelerates the fast start to his investigative blog (browardbulldog.org). The highly respected former Miami Herald reporter organized Broward Bulldog as a non-profit enterprise.
Soon after arriving in South Florida in 1970, I heard of an intriguing figure named Ken Burnstine. He had a semi-Ivy League background (three years at Penn) and had initially done well as a real estate developer. The round building at Oakland Park Blvd. and U.S. 1 was named Kenann, after Ken and his then-wife Ann. Burnstine had been president of his synagogue, and he was an excellent pilot who fancied World War II airplanes. He owned a B-26 bomber and a P-51 fighter, the latter painted garishly in the colors of several famous fighter outfits. One of his hobbies was air racing. He also had a gun range in his home and kept a pet lion in his yard.
People who knew those facts of Ken Burnstine’s life also heard something else. He was a drug runner. I heard that the first time I ever heard his name. The rumors were reinforced by the fact that he owned an aviation company and his planes kept crashing, loaded with dope. Leased them out, he said, can’t help what people do with them. Nobody believed that line and wondered why he wasn’t taken down. Years later Gaeton Fonzi wrote in this magazine that Ken Burnstine survived as a drug runner because he was useful to the government, doing work with his aircraft supporting CIA efforts in Latin America.
Eventually the government did take him down, and he quickly turned informant, a job he liked even better than drug running. He died in an air racing crash in 1976. There were rumors for five years that he had faked his death and had been seen in Europe. Gaeton Fonzi blew up that story with his three part series – “Ken Burnstine is Still Dead.” Fonzi thinks Burnstine’s plane was sabotaged. He thinks he was killed because he was the key witness in a big drug trial scheduled for just weeks after his death. Dozens of local people, targets of an FBI probe, might have gone to jail if he lived.
We think of Ken Burnstine this month because his record for getting away with bad deeds for years has been broken. Shattered in fact. Ken Burnstine was widely known almost from his arrival in Florida in the early 1960s, His flamboyant style and wild life and addiction to deals made him quite a figure in South Florida and elsewhere. But it took 15 years for him to come crashing down. Literally crashing down. Scott Rothstein did the same thing in just a few years.
This time last year I had barely heard of Scott Rothstein. At least, I don’t think I had, and if I had it was overhearing people wondering where the man had come from. One day nobody seemed to know him; the next, he was everywhere, rich, generous, a serious political player. His law firm had grown from nothing to big, overnight. That just did not happen, even in South Florida. The first time I really came to know the name was last spring, when we prepared our “50 Most Important” story. The last time we did that story, just a few years ago, Rothstein’s name never came up. This time it did, although with a lot of surrounding mystery. He had unquestionably become a player, but how? Like Ken Burnstine of yore, everybody seemed to be suspicious of his success. There was a sense that he, like Burnstine, would crash.
Last month it happened. The story has been breaking day by day, and in terms of money involved, it is much bigger than Ken Burnstine’s tale, if perhaps not quite so sinister. And there is one other difference. Ken Burnstine was important enough that he (or rather, his airplane) made our cover in the early 1970s. But the first time we did a study of important people, in 1976, there was no Ken Burnstine on the list.
Of course, he was dead. Still is.
In the 1960s the term new journalism became popular. Loosely defined, it meant that techniques usually associated with fiction were being used by newspaper and magazine writers. The popular examples were mostly the New York Esquire/New York Magazine crowd. Tom Wolfe, Jimmy Breslin, Norman Mailer, Gay Talese and Dick Schaap were among the best known
Today, we have something we might call the new new journalism, a.k.a. the blog. A few weeks back we wrote that former Miami Herald investigative reporter Dan Christensen was launching “Broward Bulldog” –- an online newspaper designed to fill the void being left as print newspapers are losing clout, and losing a lot of experienced reporters who need something to do. It did not take long for Christensen’s idea to click. Several of his blogs have appeared in the Sun-Sentinel, with attribution, of course. When you have that kind of credibility, the papers will run your stuff. Christensen’s problem is figuring out a way to fund the non-profit site.
It will take some time for Christensen to catch up with what has to be one of the most read blogs in the land. “Daily Pulp” by New Times Broward/Palm Beach’s Bob Norman has been around for several years, gaining a broad audience for the news Norman has first broken in print. Recently, with the Scott Rothstein story, his blog has gone nuts, in more ways than one. A series of recent blogs about Rothstein’s charity giving, with money he allegedly stole, developed more than 150 comments within hours. And from talk around town, those who respond are only a fraction of the total readers. Most people have enough sense not to dive into that bubbling pool of anti-Semitism and often reckless character bashing. We are referring to the anonymous posters, not the blog itself. Because it is so easy to do, and secretive, far more people are inclined to jump in than would ever take the trouble to write letters to the editor.
That said, it makes stimulating reading. Which is why posters often use the word “addictive.” A lot of the posts are pure entertainment, frustrated poets or wannabe private detectives sharing their skills, and others write in such code that you can’t figure out their point. But you get the impression that along with nuts, there are sound and informed minds at work. Obviously, the feds are watching, and perhaps even playing with teaser posts. When it gets into religion, some posters are clearly avid students, if not scholars, of organized religion. Others display knowledge of the legal system that no layman could have. It is hard, for anybody who cares about this part of South Florida, not to feel addicted.
The bottom line, according to New Times editor Eric Barton: “Daily Pulp” readership has increased by two and one-half times in the last month since the Rothstein story broke. He says the blog is on the way to one million page views in November.
“In general, it is local people reading it,” Barton says. “And the comments amount to people self-publishing.”
New journalism? Can you trust it? Not always, maybe not most of the time, but it is out there. We say again, one million views. Sooner or later, somebody will figure a way to make money.
"The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft interred with their bones." - Julius Ceasar
Let’s, in a small way, put the lie to the Bard’s famous eulogy. We do so by remembering the good done by Marshall Harris, who died last week at 77. Marshall who? That was the question this magazine asked back in 1974 when we profiled the Florida legislature and learned that Dade County’s Marshall Harris, unknown to the average Florida voter, was considered a giant in the state legislature. Our piece dubbed him "The Super Legislator."At a time of so much political corruption from one end of the state to the other, and with the public cynical about elected officials in general, it is well to honor a man and a time that shines bright in the history of Florida government.
I went to Tallahassee in the fair spring of 1974 with little background on Florida government. I learned a lot, much of it surprisingly good, about our representatives in the capital. And what I learned immediately was that Marshall Harris seemed universally respected. I am not sure how I got to him quickly. It was probably through Ed Trombetta, a former state rep. who was working in the Askew administration, or Van Poole, another Broward Countian who later was state GOP chairman. I recall both men being very helpful.
Harris was known for his patrician style. He was a Harvard undergrad and law school man from a wealthy background. He was supremely confident and articulate. Some called him “the Jewish William Buckley.” He was considered abrasive and sometimes arrogant. However, I recall meeting him on short notice for breakfast, and found him friendly, candid and witty, although by his own admission, weary of the work load he carried.
He was so good; colleagues looked to him to lead. When we met, he had been voted by his peers "legislator of the year" three of the last four years. After eight years in Tallahassee, he was leaving. He spoke with wry humor:
“When I tell people here that I’m leaving, they say you can’t leave, that would be a disaster. But the people at home don’t think my leaving is a disaster. How could they, when they don’t even know I’m here?”
Harris was part of a historic restructuring of Florida government. There was a coalition of young legislators who reorganized government and shifted political power from its historic North Florida base to the more populous South Florida. He was one of several Dade County Democrats of outstanding quality. Others were Bob Graham, who went on to become governor and U.S. senator, and Dick Pettigrew. They were joined by talented young men from Broward and Palm Beach counties, all Republicans. They included Joel Gustafson and George Caldwell from Broward, and Don Reed from Palm Beach.
“Re-apportionment made it all possible,” Joel Gustafson recalls. “We went in with a bunch of moderate Republicans and liberal Democrats. It was an amazing time. It was all very collegial.”Gustafson had left the legislature by 1974, but at the time he described Harris well.
“He’s one of the brightest people I’ve ever worked with. Fiscally, he’s very conservative, really tough on the budget. He could almost run as a Republican. Nobody’s been quicker to take the various departments up here to task over how they spend their money.”Some nicknamed Harris “the computer” for his ability to attach numbers quickly to proposed bills.
“If you want to be arrogant, you better be right,” said a reporter at the time. “Harris is usually right.”As much as for his talent and combative instincts, Harris was respected as utterly ethical. No one ever suspected him of tacking on a seemingly innocuous amendment to a bill, only to have it discovered months later that it exempted some crony from a tax or opened a loophole for an unforeseen business advantage. Indeed, Harris left the legislature partly because he saw the leadership reverting to the pork-choppers style that he had helped overturn.
Little recognized outside Tallahassee in his prime, Harris was consistent to the end.His death was noted in the Miami Herald, but elsewhere only a blog here and there. Joel Gustafson did not know about it until called for a comment. Forty years after they worked together, his opinion had not changed.
“We had a curious relationship,” Gustafson says. “He had a strident personality, but you had to give him his due. He was right in cases where you might not agree philosophically. He would bowl you over with reams of statistical and factual information. You deferred to him on many occasions. He could put you to sleep with details, your eyes would glass over, but he was right, so far ahead of the curve. In any legislature about 30 percent of the people do all the work. They are they ones who are made conferees, who chairman committees and are called to special meetings. Marshall was in that select group.
”When Harris left Tallahassee, he largely left politics, although he did make an unsuccessful run as Jim Smith’s running mate in the 1986 gubernatorial primary. Mostly he devoted his time to his family travel agency and to cultural affairs in Miami. Gustafson, who saw him only occasionally, wishes it had been different.
“When I saw him he was always gracious,” he says. “But I think we could have used Marshall Harris in the state for a long time as a public official.” Gustafson, who has remained active in various political capacities, adds: “When I had some issue I wish I could have talked to him. He always worked on it. There was a bond in the people who showed up in those days. We were like a big fraternity.”
A fraternity which says goodbye to an illustrious brother.
When this blog originated several months ago we assumed nobody would read it. Unfortunately, our recent piece on Scott Rothstein, the Fort Lauderdale lawyer suspected (BUT not yet formally charged) of funding his unbelievable philanthropy and political contributions with a massive Ponzi scheme, has changed all that. That item was picked up by newspapers and spread around the land. We therefore feel an obligation to set up some ground rules.
First, who we be. Gold
Coast magazine and its affiliates on the east coast of Florida are lifestyle magazines, directed to the kind of people Rothstein allegedly conned out of hundreds of millions. We focus on the affluent for the same reason Willie Sutton robbed banks. Rothstein gets little credit today, but he probably spread more money to the needy of South Florida than the government’s stimulus packages. Alas, the feds may take a different view of this modern-day Robin Hood.
Generally, our editorial fare is innocuous -- people dancing for disease, buying expensive cars, living in houses which make the Versailles look modest, etc. Occasionally we have gotten more serious, such as in 1980, when along with Washingtonian magazine, we were the first publication to connect alleged JFK assassin Lee Harvey Oswald to the CIA. Those articles, by former magazine partner Gaeton Fonzi, became the book “The Last Investigation,” an iconic work on the assassination that inspired numerous more recent researchers. In slow steps, recently accelerated by former Washington Post reporter Jeff Morley, our 1980 conclusions have been proved accurate. The CIA, if it did not do it, surely covered it up. But such weighty stories are rare in our pages.
We do try to make rational statements on public issues, such as education, transportation and the uniforms of sports teams. That is the kind of thing which will often appear in this blog.
We welcome comment, but we must adhere to the accepted standards of libel in publishing or rejecting views. The Scott Rothstein case, which has been prominent in alternative newspaper blogs, is an example of what we will not permit. Virulent anti-Semitism, or other ethnic slurs, malicious character defamation, profanity and vicious insults between respondents (who assume they know each other, despite the fictional blog names) will not be published here.
Neither will plagiarism. Nobody’s trying to please here, rather to edify, to instruct.*
* With a nostalgic nod to J.D. Salinger
Ten days ago, just a few days before his world exploded, Scott Rothstein was bouncing about a private cocktail party held by one of Fort Lauderdale’s wealthiest couples. We won’t mention the name, as it’s assumed nobody wants his or her name mentioned simultaneously with Scott Rothstein right now. He was dressed in a bright orange shirt that looked like it was custom made for the party. His outfit looked rich, if gaudy. Above all, Scott Rothstein wanted to make sure you knew he was rich. He was loud, as always, and hugging and kissing and patting the backs of Fort Lauderdale’s well to do. He was probably at this party because of his philanthropy (the kind of people who were at this party often met at charity events). Rothstein’s largesse in the charitable community gave him credibility and opened doors to the wealthy, just as his political donations opened doors to the politically powerful. He was overtly pleasant and sociable – until in a side conversation, somebody mentioned something about the press. He blurted out an expletive about the press and made a comment that was filled with irony, even before the events over the last few days, “F--- the press. They never tell the truth anyway.” Rothstein did not care for the press. It was not the first time Rothstein had snapped at mention of the press. They were growingly suspicious of Rothstein, and he hated that. In the past several months, he had done everything short of threatening to kill a local alternative newspaper reporter who was prodding into Rothstein’s doings.
That was Scott Rothstein, hobnobber to the rich and famous. A different side of Rothstein was on display a couple months ago at Charlie Palmer Steak House (no relation to Fort Lauderdale’s Charlie Palmer, who would not want his name mentioned in a Scott Rothstein story, even as a steak house) a chic power broker hangout in Washington, D.C. Rothstein was in D.C. for the swearing in of Sen. George Lemieux. His appearance itself was a bit of a shock as anyone who knows the two knows they are complete opposites in both style and substance. Several Republican insiders questioned whether Rothstein was even invited, or if he just showed up. At Charlie Palmer’s there were two groups of people sitting at tables, both having drinks before a reception for the senator later that night. In Rothstein’s group was Grant Smith (a firm lawyer and son of former Congressman Larry Smith), political operative Roger Stone (who also worked for Rothstein’s firm), and a couple other members of the Rothstein political posse. They were dressed to the political nines, expensive watches, designer shirts, the best suits. The only thing missing was a neon billboard proclaiming they were Washington power brokers. The sign might have been subtler.
At the other table were various past and present staffers, administrators and consultants of the Jeb Bush and Charlie Crist administrations. They weren’t big money guys. Like Lemieux, they had come up through the grass roots Republican Party ranks and were there to celebrate a big day for an old friend. There is a perception that politicians liked and counted on Scott Rothstein for money. The money part was probably true, as few people in Florida wrote bigger political checks than Rothstein, but Republican political staffers were deeply suspicious of Rothstein. Their comments this night included “things don’t add up with that guy,” “stay away from him,” and “where is he getting all this money?”
Rothstein soon approached the table of political staffers and singled out Shane Strum, the soon-to-be chief of staff for the Gov. Crist. “Mr. Strum, may I have a word with you,” Rothstein asked. He pulled Strum aside, put his arm on his shoulder and began to make a pitch for one of Rothstein’s clients. The staffers cringed. It looked like a scene from "The Godfather," and Strum clearly wanted none of it. He politely dismissed the request with one of a thousand vaguely non-committal phrases that all future chiefs of staff tend to master. If Scott Rothstein was giving the impression to the world that he was best friends with the political elite, the reality was far from that. Politicians took his money, and hoped this thing did not blow up on them. In the past several days, their fears appeared to have been realized and the race to return to Rothstein money is on. A half a dozen politicians pledged their returns just yesterday. Much has been made of Rothstein’s Republican connections, but his largest recent donations have been to Democratic gubernatorial candidate Alex Sink. He was often an equal-opportunity spender in his efforts to buy influence.
In the business community, suspicions of Rothstein ran deep. The county’s most prestigious business organization rejected his application for membership. They had nothing tangible against him other than “this guy really doesn’t add up.” The organization consisted of a bunch of Fort Lauderdale old timers who have seen a few con artists in their time. They were the most vocal opponents to Rothstein’s admission.
When Gold Coast magazine recently published its list of “50 Most Powerful People,” we interviewed dozens of Fort Lauderdale’s business and political elite, and all agreed he was powerful, and all were highly suspicious of his ethics and where he was getting his money. Even a great law firm, and great “business interests” don’t produce the kind of money that Scott Rothstein was throwing around town.
So when Stuart Rosenfeldt said two days ago that he was completely shocked Scott Rothstein may have stolen all the money from the firm and some outside investors, he officially became the first person in South Florida to identify himself as not being suspicious of Scott Rothstein. It’s hard to believe partners in that firm could work so closely with Rothstein, yet not wonder where Rothstein was getting all this money and the highly secretive manner in which he appears to have controlled the firms accounting. When you are riding that gravy train, maybe it doesn’t pay to ask too many questions – that is until the train goes off the track.
