Dade County FlArchives History - Books .....Miami Beach, Chapter 4 1965 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/fl/flfiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Joy Fisher http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00001.html#0000031 April 1, 2009, 8:31 pm Book Title: Memories Of Old Miami CHAPTER FOUR Miami Beach WHEN I THINK of what Miami Beach looked like when I was a boy I picture a strip of sand lined with dunes covered by nodding sea oats. Immediately behind the dunes were forests of sea grapes and thickets of saw-palmettos - and if you were able to get far enough through these without being struck at by a rattlesnake, you soon ran into a tidal swamp of mangroves and buttonwood. There was the blue sky with cottony clouds and the rolling surf, the constant sound of which dominated everything. You could walk the beach from Smith's Casino at South Beach to Carl Fisher's Casino near where the Roney Plaza is now located - a good two miles - without seeing a soul. There was only the sound of the foaming surf and sometimes the piercing cries of an osprey as you passed near its nest. I used to ride across Biscayne Bay with Capt. Hazel Sands on his ferry boat and get off at the T-shaped dock on the bay side just south of Biscayne Street. Biscayne Street wasn't much of a street, just a sandy strip extending from the bay side to the ocean side, a very short walk. I remember the sandspurs growing along Biscayne Street very well because they had the longest barbs of any sandspurs a barefoot boy ever stepped on. If there was a house along the two-mile stretch between Smith's Casino and Fisher's Casino I can't remember it. We used to pick up driftwood and build a fire on the beach, maybe to fry some fish or to drive the mosquitos or sandflies away. Nobody bothered us. It was as wild as any place in Florida. That was about 1912 or 1913, as I recall. The Collins Bridge across Biscayne Bay was opened in 1913. Known as the longest wooden wagon bridge in the world, it was located where the Venetian Causeway later was built. On the beach side the causeway connected with a road that paralleled the Collins Canal, which is still there. There was no better fishing place in the world than from the Collins Bridge. When a family went fishing it took a wash tub. When I look at Biscayne Bay now it is hard to remember just how clear the water was. But you could see a new dime lying on the bottom at 10 feet. I remember that two pretty cousins from Chattanooga came to visit us - Dorothy and Thelma Sheppard. Right away they began talking about going to the beach. "We want to go washing," they said. In those days women didn't go swimming or bathing; they went washing. It was my pleasure to take the sisters over to Miami Beach on the ferry. After we got off at the ferry dock we went to Smith's Casino, where the girls rented a locker to change into the "washing clothes" they had brought from Chattanooga. "Do you want to rent a locker, Hoyt?" Mrs. Jerry Pinder asked. Mrs. Pinder kept the lockers and rented bathing suits. She could look at you and tell what size to give you, but in those days no bathing suit - washing suit - fitted very snuggly. I told Mrs. Pinder I didn't want to rent a locker. I went off into the sea grapes to change. I'll never forget those cousins and how they looked in their "washing suits" - black, loosely fitting garbs, with bloomers and black stockings. And, to keep their white skin from tanning, they wore large black hats. By the time those two pretty girls got out on the beach there wasn't much white meat showing, but there sure was a lot of dressing. Gradually changes began to take place at Miami Beach, slowly at first; but when I look back I realize that once the beach developments got going they moved pretty fast. J. E. Lummus, the banker, and his brother, J. N., started the south beach development by clearing the high land and filling in the mangrove swamp. After the clearing got started the rattlesnakes began to desert the beach and head for the mainland. They were plenty smart. I never heard of one swimming toward the east; they all headed west. I used to see them in Biscayne Bay while crossing over on the ferry. Some were coiled and floating in the water. Others were swimming hard toward the mainland. There were thousands of rabbits on the beach. With such a plentiful supply of food, the rattlesnake population had prospered. For a long time the island now known as Fisher Island was called Rabbit Key. The first time I was ever on Miami Beach - maybe that was about 1912 when I was nine - I remember walking from Miami Beach to Rabbit Key. A small inlet was cut through the narrow strip of sand that separated Rabbit Key from Miami Beach, and the tidal currents washed a channel deep enough for small boats. Then later the government dredged the ship channel and made what is now known as Government Cut. A huge dredge, the Norman H. Davis, worked for months. The fill from the channel was piled along the south side and the county causeway was built on top of it. The opening of the county causeway - now MacArthur Causeway - gave the south beach a tremendous boost. New homes went up. The Lummus brothers offered land for $1,000 an acre to anyone who would build a house on the site within a year - any kind of house. Miami Beach residents used to "come to town," as they described coming to Miami, to buy groceries or to get haircuts. The opening of the county causeway put the south beach far ahead of the north beach, as the area about 23rd Street was then called. But the north beach was more of a swank place than south beach. Fisher's Casino was a unique place. He built a large swimming pool and a Dutch windmill to pump salt water into the pool. Fisher served lunch and in the evening served dinner to the tune of dance music. When Fisher's beautiful Flamingo Hotel was built on the bayside near the foot of Lincoln Rd. it helped to set the pace for the development of that area of Miami Beach. By the time the Boom was getting under way, Miami Beach was primed for the role of a major winter resort that has made it famous the world over. When I drive through Miami Beach now I find it hard to find evidence of old landmarks. The Miami Beach Kennel Club occupies the site where Smith's Casino used to stand. The Morton Towers occupy the site of the old Flamingo. The Seville Hotel occupies the site of the old Pancoast Hotel at 2901 Collins Avenue. Even the Roney Plaza, built during the Boom, seems incongruous against the dazzling background of Miami Beach's luxurious hew hotels. A filling station occupies the site at the Alton Road and MacArthur Causeway intersection where J. N. Lummus offered Dad five acres for $1,000 an acre. I wouldn't think of building a home at Miami Beach," Dad said. "Some day this place will be covered with water from ocean to bay." Dad's prediction came true in the 1926 hurricane when a storm tide swept over Miami Beach. But if Dad could have foreseen the tremendous value of Miami Beach property I'm sure he would have taken Mr. Lummus' offer. If there's one single old landmark left at Miami Beach today that I can recognize it's the Australian pines along Pine Tree Drive. Mr. Collins planted those trees before 1910 as a windbreak for his avocado and mango grove. Additional Comments: Extracted from: "Memories of Old Miami" by Hoyt Frazure as told to Nixon Smiley Reprinted from a series of articles first appearing in Sunday Magazine of The Miami Herald Undated, but circa 1965 File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/fl/dade/history/1965/memories/miamibea36nms.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.genrecords.net/flfiles/ File size: 8.1 Kb