Dade County FlArchives History - Books .....They Lived Like Kings, Chapter 7 1965
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Joy Fisher http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00001.html#0000031 April 3, 2009, 3:01 am

Book Title: Memories Of Old Miami

CHAPTER SEVEN
They Lived Like Kings

   MIAMI before and during the Boom days was an important resort for wealthy
industrialists who brought their yachts and cruising house boats to Biscayne Bay
for the winter.

    The owners came down by train-sometimes by special car - to live on their
boats or take a suite of rooms at the luxurious Royal Palm Hotel.

    I remember such names as Andrew Carnegie of Carnegie Steel, Andrew Mellon of
the Mellon Bank at Pittsburgh, Cyrus H. K. Curtis, the publisher; Asa G. Candler
of Coca-Cola, J. P. Morgan, the international banker; Edward F. Hutton of Wall
Street; Uncle Billy Witham, Atlanta Banker, Charlie Schwab of U.S. Steel, and
Gerard Lambert of the Lambert Drug Co.

    Only one of these men, Mr. Lambert, is living; and he still comes to Miami
in the winter where he has a home on Brickell Avenue. But in my youth, sailing
my Abaco dinghy in Biscayne Bay, Mr. Lambert came on his beautiful three-masted
schooner The Atlantic. And what a proud ship it was, lying majestically at
anchor in the blue water like a living thing that knew how great it was.

    What a delight it was to see those yachts and luxurious house boats lying in
the harbor and to sail among them in my dinghy. I can no longer remember the
names of all of them; and there are names that I remember but can't remember the
owners.

    I got to know several of the rich men and members of their families, and
with some I even had a speaking acquaintance. I used to catch stone crabs and
crawfish on the shallow flats at Bear Cut and sell them to the Filipino stewards
on the yachts.

    One time I pulled alongside of Mr. Carnegie's yacht when he was aboard. He
invited me aboard and gave me a Coke. He wanted to know how I caught the crabs
and crawfish.

    I told him that I caught them at night by hand, first blinding them with an
oil lantern. For a reflector, I fastened a tin dishpan on my lantern, and to
protect my catching hand I wore a heavy cotton glove.

    To catch a blinded stone crab or crawfish, you had to be fast and accurate.
If you missed one you never got a second chance. A spooked crab would take off
to his hole. A crawfish would dart into the channel.

    Everything on Mr. Carnegie's yacht was spotless; and the officers, the
deckhands and the servants were all dressed in spotless uniforms. The wood work
was covered with new varnish and all the brass work gleaming from constant
polishing.

    I can't remember the name of Mr. Carnegie's yacht, but I do remember that
Mr. Morgan's big black, ocean-going yacht was the Corsair. It lay at anchor
strong and durable, reminding you of Mr. Morgan himself. But I never talked with
Mr. Morgan. He wasn't a man that a boy talked with.

    I was invited aboard the Mellon house boat, Silent Night, to see a movie,
and sat with the family in the luxurious lounge. Joe Frow, the Mellons' fishing
guide, got me aboard. Joe, who lived in Coconut Grove, guided for the Mellons
every year, having charge of their cabin cruiser.

    The Mellons, like many other wealthy people who came here, would take short
trips to Bimini; or they would go down to Long Key, where Mr. Flagler had built
a fishing camp. I remember how well the Mellon family liked Frow. The movies I
saw had been made in the Bahamas, and Joe was in several scenes. When he'd come
on the screen, some one in the Mellon family would say, "There's Joe."

    (Frow, born at Key West in 1890, died in September 1964. His grandfather was
keeper of the Cape Florida lighthouse at the south end of Key Biscayne.)

    Mr. Schwab had a house on Brickell Point, across the Miami River from the
Royal Palm. He was a common figure in Miami. He mixed with everybody and
everybody liked him.

    I have laughed many times over a story I heard Mr. Schwab tell one day while
he was visiting on Mr. Carnegie's yacht.

    Mr. Schwab raised fine beef cattle on his farm in the North. He showed them
at cattle fairs and won prizes.

    "One day," Mr. Schwab related, "my neighbor, Mr. Smith, came over to the
house leading his milk cow, and hailed."

    " 'Mr. Schwab,' Mr. Smith said, 'I want you to put Bessie in the fair with
your cows so that she can win a prize.'

    " 'Why do you think your cow might win a prize?' I asked Mr. Smith. 'Does
she give a lot of milk?'

    " 'Well, Mr. Schwab,' he answered, 'Bessie's a good old thing, and if she's
got any she'll give it to you.' "

    At that time the Biscayne Yacht Club was located where Bayfront Park is now.
A cannon shot announced the raising of the flag at 8 a.m. and another cannon
shot announced the lowering of the flag at sundown.

    I remember being on the dock when a telephone call would come in. Cap'n
Allan Johnson would step to the edge of the dock and shout across at one of the
yachts through his megaphone:

    "Osiris, ahoy-y-y."

    In a moment you'd see somebody coming in a boat from the Yacht Orisis to
take the call.

    We had many colorful local people in those days, and they were well liked by
the rich visitors. Cap'n Johnson was one of them. He was from the Bahamas and
spoke with a broad British accent. When something pleased him he would say:

    "Dahm, mahn, thot's royal, aye?"

    A boy could learn something about the industrialists by keeping his ears
open. Asa G. Candler owned a fine yacht. Uncle Billy Witham, who didn't own a
yacht, frequently stayed on Candler's yacht. One day I heard Mr. Candler say:

    "Uncle Billy, why don't you get yourself a boat?" The banker chuckled.

    "Asa," he said, "It's all I can do to finance YOUR yacht."

    My brother, Lamar Frazure, had three Cadillac touring cars which he hired
out with chauffeurs. He had no trouble renting them to the rich yacht owners. A
car and driver would stand by for days at a time, to be ready just in case the
rich man and his family wanted to go somewhere.

    Sometimes the rich would go up to Palm Beach when something big was going on
at the Royal Poinciana Hotel; or they'd go up to gamble at Col. Bradley's famous
casino.

    By this time there was a fairly good white rock road between Miami and the
Palm Beaches. On a good stretch a Cadillac could bree7e along at 35 miles an
hour. At that time the Dixie Highway crossed the natural bridge over Arch Creek,
then quite a tourist attraction.

    (Arch Creek bridge still exists, at NE 135th St. and Old Dixie Highway. Col.
John Jacob Astor is said to have been the first to drive from Palm Beach to
Miami over this bridge.)

    One time Lamar "complained" to Mr. Carnegie's secretary that the family
seldom used the car that was kept standing in readiness.

    "I hate to take the money," Lamar said.

    "That's perfectly all right, Mr. Frazure," the secretary said. "Mr. Carnegie
doesn't mind paying. If he decides to go somewhere, he wants to go right then;
and he wants that car there ready to take him."

    Mr. Lambert also kept a car ashore - a shiny Rolls-Royce, with a waiting
chauffeur. He made frequent trips to Palm Beach, and when he wanted to go some
place the chauffeur had to be alert and ready.

    One time - this was several years after the development of Miami Beach got
under way - he had Cornelius Vanderbilt as a passenger on the Atlantic. Mr.
Vanderbilt had heard of the newly built Bath Club at Miami Beach and wanted to
see it.

    "Gerard," he said to Mr. Lambert, "Let's drive over to the Bath Club and see
if they'll let us in for lunch." When they arrived at the club, Mr. Lambert
said: "Neily, you wait here in the car until I can run into the Bath Club and
see if they'll let us in for lunch."

    Inside, Mr. Lambert showed his credentials and asked if he and Mr.
Vanderbilt might be served lunch. The manager was sorry, but only a charter
member and his guests could be served in the club.

    "And how much is a membership?" Mr. Lambert asked.

    The manager told him $3,000.

    Whereupon Mr. Lambert took out his checkbook, scribbled a check for $3,000
and handed it to the manager. Then he went outside to the waiting Rolls-Royce.

    "Neily," Mr. Lambert said, "come on in. They're going to serve us lunch."

    It's almost impossible today for the younger generation to understand how
the rich lived in those days. The federal income tax law did not go into effect
until 1913, and even then it didn't take a big bite out of a person's income
like it does today. The captains of industry amassed enormous fortunes. They
lived in unbelievable luxury. They could spend but little of the money they
earned, even though they lived like kings.

    Whether good or bad, it was an interesting and colorful period. Now I am
glad that I can look back with a vivid memory on a way of life that we won't see
again.


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


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