EVERYTHING WHAT YOU NEEDTO DREAM...
Fort Lauderdale
KNOWLEDGE OF Fort Lauderdale
Florida's Gold Coast, of which Fort Lauderdale is such an integral part, is proof that contemporary alchemy exists.
Seven decades ago, what is now seductive sands, swaying sea oats and glittering hotels and condominiums was palmetto scrub and swampland. Along these sands, only the occasional beached sailor and the fabled barefoot mailman strode.
Many generations ago, the Abaniki tribe of Native Americans lived beside the sea here, followed generations later by pirates who awaited an opportunity to attack Spanish galleons heading home from Central America, loaded with gold.
Some didn't just await an opportunity—they created it. Early entrepreneurs called "wreckers" lured ships onto the spiky shoreline stones that gave Boca Raton, which translates loosely to "rat's mouth," its unglamorous Spanish name, a salute to the rocks' resemblance to rat's teeth. Wreckers had a pretty easy job of it, however as hurricanes and inadequate navigational aids sent many a ship to a watery death. So often did this happen, in fact, that the locals often went to church to pray not only for booty, but for specific booty, designed to meet the need of the moment. So handsomely were some prayers answered that a massive party went on for days in Boca Raton when a Spanish shipwreck produced hundreds of barrels of sherry.
The wreckers were such a demanding crowd that, by the late 1800s, they were accusing shipowners of sending out worthless cargo to collect insurance money. Audacity like that is nothing new in these climes, where some of the nation's most flamboyant characters have made miracles and millions, trading on pride and sunny circumstances.
One of these characters was long-ailing architect Addison Mizner, who rode railroad entrepreneur Henry Flagler's train to Palm Beach to swim in healing sunshine. He ended up swimming in millions of dollars, happily paid by those who commissioned him to build massive homes along the Gold Coast. Palm Beach and Boca Raton soon became the stronghold of Addison's flashy "Bastard-Spanish-Moorish-Romanesque-Gothic-Renaissance-Bull Market- Damn-the-Expense" architectural style.
In 1925, he created Boca's Cloisters Hotel, which stands still as part of a massive resort complex. He created the Breakers Hotel. He created Palm Beach's toney Worth Avenue. He created half of Palm Beach, at least, and what he didn't create, others created by copying his embellished style.
No shrinking violets when it came to promotion, he and his cronies lured the famed and infamous of the day, perfecting an enduring technique Mizner called, "Get the big snobs, and the little ones will follow."
Seven decades ago, what is now seductive sands, swaying sea oats and glittering hotels and condominiums was palmetto scrub and swampland. Along these sands, only the occasional beached sailor and the fabled barefoot mailman strode.
Many generations ago, the Abaniki tribe of Native Americans lived beside the sea here, followed generations later by pirates who awaited an opportunity to attack Spanish galleons heading home from Central America, loaded with gold.
Some didn't just await an opportunity—they created it. Early entrepreneurs called "wreckers" lured ships onto the spiky shoreline stones that gave Boca Raton, which translates loosely to "rat's mouth," its unglamorous Spanish name, a salute to the rocks' resemblance to rat's teeth. Wreckers had a pretty easy job of it, however as hurricanes and inadequate navigational aids sent many a ship to a watery death. So often did this happen, in fact, that the locals often went to church to pray not only for booty, but for specific booty, designed to meet the need of the moment. So handsomely were some prayers answered that a massive party went on for days in Boca Raton when a Spanish shipwreck produced hundreds of barrels of sherry.
The wreckers were such a demanding crowd that, by the late 1800s, they were accusing shipowners of sending out worthless cargo to collect insurance money. Audacity like that is nothing new in these climes, where some of the nation's most flamboyant characters have made miracles and millions, trading on pride and sunny circumstances.
One of these characters was long-ailing architect Addison Mizner, who rode railroad entrepreneur Henry Flagler's train to Palm Beach to swim in healing sunshine. He ended up swimming in millions of dollars, happily paid by those who commissioned him to build massive homes along the Gold Coast. Palm Beach and Boca Raton soon became the stronghold of Addison's flashy "Bastard-Spanish-Moorish-Romanesque-Gothic-Renaissance-Bull Market- Damn-the-Expense" architectural style.
In 1925, he created Boca's Cloisters Hotel, which stands still as part of a massive resort complex. He created the Breakers Hotel. He created Palm Beach's toney Worth Avenue. He created half of Palm Beach, at least, and what he didn't create, others created by copying his embellished style.
No shrinking violets when it came to promotion, he and his cronies lured the famed and infamous of the day, perfecting an enduring technique Mizner called, "Get the big snobs, and the little ones will follow."
Chapi