LET’S FACE IT, SOUTH FLORIDA IS going relentlessly upscale. Key West has passed noise ordinances, and there has been talk about abolishing the sunset ceremony at Mallory Square. Miami Beach is still glassy-eyed over its trendy Art Deco South Beach. Fort Lauderdale has chased away spring break and what memories remained of Where the Boys Are. And Palm Beachers — well, they’ve always cared more about Donald Trump, Prince Charles and polo then hanging out at the beach.
Down in Hollywood, however, there’s a different mind set. Here is a city that stubbornly resists anything smacking of a trend.
Not long ago, a water-taxi service, which had started a successful operation in tourist-conscious Fort Lauderdale, tried to expand to the Hollywood Beach area.
But the patrons of waterfront restaurants pelted the taxis with food as the boats cruised the Intracoastal.
“It was a bad experience,” sighs Bob Bekoff, president of the taxi service. “Hollywood is a bizarre town.”
Not so much bizarre, really, as different, a place where hanging out in cutoff shorts and drinking a beer at the beach is still considered recreation, not a crime.
And what makes Hollywood truly different from almost every other seaside city in South Florida is its Broadwalk, a 2 1/2-mile stretch of beach that is caught in a time warp.
The way much of Florida looked in the ’50s is pretty much the way Hollywood Beach still looks today: mom-and-pop motels, small apartment buildings and boarding houses, and delightfully tacky bars and restaurants scattered all along the Broadwalk.
WHEN J.W. YOUNG BEGAN TO DEVELOP Hollywood in the early ’20s, the Broadwalk was vital to his plans. What better way to lure frozen Northerners into buying Florida real estate than to take them for a walk along an elegant beachfront, then hustle them into an office and nail down the sale?
Young, who learned his land-developing techniques in California, knew the value of a pretty package. Unfortunately for him, his Broadwalk was finished in 1924, just two years before the deadly hurricane of ’26 killed nearly 2,000 people and brought Florida’s short-lived land boom to a screeching halt.
If Young saw his beach now he would not recognize it. Where his high-pressure salesmen once sold exclusive waterfront property, shopkeepers now sell T- shirts and cheeky postcards. And his elegant casino and beachfront pool were razed in the ’50s to make room for a parking lot.
Only the Broadwalk remains, an asphalt promenade as vital today to the beach’s economic health as it was to its birth 66 years ago.
The Broadwalk, which is slightly wider than a two-lane road, is frequented by thousands of walkers, joggers, sunbathers, bicyclists and people-watchers who rub shoulders on Hollywood Beach every day.
Emerging just north of the high-rise concrete canyon of Hallandale, it runs from Georgia Street in the south to North Beach Park in the north. Nowhere along the Broadwalk is access to the beach blocked by hotels or condominiums.
Newcomers to Hollywood are often confused by the term “broadwalk.” Tourists usually pronounce it “boardwalk,” the name used in Atlantic City. But Young’s showpiece never consisted of boards; instead it was built from coral rock dredged from the Intracoastal. Long ago it was paved over with asphalt, and today it is exactly what the name conveys: a broad walk.
Hollywood Beach being the kind of place it is, some of the guys who hang out at Nick’s, a bar located on the Broadwalk at Minnesota Street, espouse another theory about the name’s origin.
“They call it a broadwalk ’cause of all the broads — get it?” cracks one regular.
PEOPLE-WATCHING IS THE MAIN entertainment along the Broadwalk. In fact, many folks sit in beach chairs facing the Broadwalk instead of the ocean. The boys at Nick’s refer to their open windows as “beach TV.” And, indeed, the beach is the perfect place to see and be seen. You might even meet your future wife or husband here.
That’s what happened to Mike and Sue Fisher of Plantation.
Mike had been coming to Hollywood Beach with his family since he was 14. It was in the late ’60s, and he was home on leave from the Army. He had a few days of freedom before shipping out to Vietnam.
So he went to what had always been his family’s favorite spot on the beach: Johnson Street.
“It was Sue’s bathing suit, a hot-pink bikini, that caught my attention,” Mike recalls.
He walked over to introduce himself, and soon the couple were chatting like old friends. One thing led to another, and when Mike returned from Vietnam they were married. Twenty years later, the Fishers still visit Hollywood Beach, only now they bring their three kids.
The beach’s quirky charms have also attracted Hollywood to Hollywood. The sultry opening sequences of 1981’s film noir classic, Body Heat, starring Kathleen Turner and William Hurt, wero six lanes for a mile and a half to the Intracoastal Waterway. Both sides of the street are lined with majestic royal palm trees. The homes along the boulevard are spectacular examples of Old Florida and Spanish architecture.
Across the drawbridge and framed by more royal palms on the beach side of A1A, is Young’s masterpiece, the Hollywood Beach Hotel. The elegant Spanish- style structure once was in the same class as Florida hotels like the Casa Marina in Key West, the Biltmore in Coral Gables, the Boca Raton Hotel and Club in Boca and the Breakers in Palm Beach.
But the Hollywood Beach Hotel hasn’t catered to the swank crowd in decades.
Construction of the hotel was completed in 1926, and later that year it survived the devastating hurricane. During World War II it became an officers’ club, and then a bible college in the ’70s.
In the early ’80s, part of the hotel was converted into condominiums and time-share units, and the bottom two floors became a shopping mall and video arcade known as Oceanwalk. However, Oceanwalk has never attracted large crowds, and recent financial troubles have put its future in doubt.
The toughest decision once you park at the beach (the municipal lot just south of Johnson Street is the most convenient) will be where to go first. Within walking distance, both along the beach and on A1A, are more than 30 restaurants and bars and dozens of shops.
mix of teenyboppers and seniors, bikers and beach bunnies. Their appetites are as diverse as their personalities, and everything from sushi to gyros is available within a few minutes’ walk.
MAKING THIS CONFLUENCE OF CULTURES even more exotic is the French-Canadian presence. Some 700,000 French-Canadians visit Hollywood each year, and during the winter season, from late October until Easter, the parking lots are packed with cars displaying Quebec license plates and the motto Je Me Souviens (“I Remember”), which serves as a reminder of French Canada’s contribution to World War II.
French-Canadians pour an estimated $500 million into South Florida’s economy annually, so it’s little wonder that Canada’s maple-leaf flag is a permanent fixture outside most of the hotels and apartment complexes that line the beach.
A number of Frenchmen now own businesses here, among them Gerald Piguet, a Willie Nelson lookalike who runs Frenchies restaurant, located midway along the Broadwalk. Piguet has an endless supply of French-Canadian music, and during the winter his restaurant is the best place on the beach to immerse yourself in the sounds and smells of Quebec.
Up the beach is Nick’s, a favorite hangout for the locals where the music runs toward soft rock and jazz.
“When we first bought the place we catered to the French-Canadians,” says Bob Ferro, one of two brothers from Massachusetr-old building’s stone walls and open windows contribute to the casual ambience. This is where Kathleen Turner and William Hurt flirted over drinks in Body Heat.
Inside Nick’s are two bars, handmade wooden tables, a ship’s wheel and a shelf along the windows where you can sit and watch the Broadwalk action.
There are plenty of other excellent spots for anyone looking for a people- watching spot that also offers open-air drinking and dining.
At Indiana Street, La Concha, with its umbrella-shaded patio tables, is probably the best all-around restaurant, especially for a great breakfast.
At Frank and Mario’s, next to the municipal parking lot, you can sit under cover at concrete tables, let the sea breeze cool you off, and enjoy the best pizza on the beach.
The Sahara, which is next to Nick’s and specializes in Mideastern food, has, oddly enough, the best hot dogs in town.
Ice Cream Delight, just north of Johnson Street, sells the best hand- squeezed lemonade.
FOOD AND DRINK ARE NOT THE only things that draw people to Hollywood Beach. The city sponsors 80 free shows a year at the Beach Theater Under The Stars, a mini-bandshell with a seating capacity of 750.
The most popular entertainment offered here is “Dancing on the Patio.” Each Monday night senior citizens begin to gather in front of the bandshell almost two hours before the entertainment begins.
Many bring theiand dances in his Tangerine Tearoom just north of the old Casino, the air is filled with nostalgic songs from the ’30s and ’40s as couples dance arm in arm.
If it’s a quiet walk you’re looking for, stroll a short distance south of the Hollywood Beach Hotel. Here there are no bars, no restaurants and no crowds, only apartment buildings and homes.
But that doesn’t mean life is dull at this end of the Broadwalk — at least it doesn’t have to be, as one elderly resident happily explains.
One morning during his daily walk along the beach, five bikini-clad girls caught his eye. The girls were giggling and fidgeting with their tops in front of a man holding a camera. As the old man stopped to watch, the photographer counted to three and all the girls dropped their bikini tops.
“It made my day,” the old man said, laughing.
IF THERE ARE CROWDS ON THE BEACH, there is bound to be a spillover at the Hollywood Beach Hotel. They are drawn to the outside bar, overlooking the Broadwalk, and by the food court inside, which is open to the public. The crowd here is young and semi-trendy. Unfortunately, the ocean view is obscured by man-made sand dunes, almost as if the hotel’s management were ashamed of the beach.
The hotel has an upscale grill and the beach’s only Japanese and Mexican restaurants. The grill is inconsistent, the Mexican restaurant is mediocre and the Japanese restaurant only fair. The food court in the mall is a better bet, especially the seafood at Marco’s.
One of the attractions of the Broadwalk is the freedom to wander about without fear for your personal safety. Thanks to the N.I.C.E. Squad, Hollywood’s special police ,” says Officer Gary Mone, one of eight officers who patrol by pedal power.
Mone refers to his bike as M.O.P., a mobile observation platform. He has covered almost 2,500 miles since he started patroling the beach 2 1/2 years ago. Still, it’s one of the cushier assignments a Hollywood cop can get.
“The beach is pretty mellow,” Mone admits. “The job is as much about public relations as it is about law enforcement.”
Occasionally, when confronted by a stubborn offender of biking regulations or open container laws, Mone finds himself writing a $50 ticket. But one time he showed an unrepentant spring breaker the error of his ways by convening a people’s court of fellow sunbathers. To his and the college student’s surprise, the crowd voted for arrest. But Mone, figuring the embarrassment was penalty enough, let the kid off with a warning.
When asked about the banning of the skimpy bathing suits known as thongs at state beaches, Mone shakes his head. “This is not a state beach,” he answers gladly.
Notwithstanding the current Hollywood mayor’s dislike for derrieres — he recently made a motel paint over some bare buttocks on a streetside mural — the police do not act as a rear-end patrol. They leave that to the state parks and Governor Bob’s Thong Police. Rest assured, at Hollywood Beach the thong is alive and well.
This is especially true at Garfield Street, a section favored by teenyboppers and hardbodies modeling the latest and leastest in swimwear.
The main action takes place in front of Angelo’s Corner, where the art of flirting is practiced nonstop.
Garfield is also Hollywood’s answer to California’s Muscle Beach. Someden walkway to the beach that allows wheelchair users to get close to the water.
SALESMAN BRIAN DEMPSEY, 32, HAS been coming to the Broadwalk since he was 18. He has visited dozens of beaches in the Caribbean, but Hollywood remains his favorite. He even bought a home in the town so he could live nearby.
“I try to stay at the beach for a month each summer,” he says.
Ocean’s Eleven, a restaurant-bar that’s popular with the single crowd, is Dempsey’s favorite spot.
“It’s got good food, solid drinks, and an underwater view of girls swimming in the pool above,” explains Dempsey. “And the day crowd is often the same crowd I partied with the night before.”
Ocean’s Eleven is more of a local hangout than a tourist hot spot. Floor-to- ceiling windows offer a great view of the Broadwalk. Some people became regulars even before they were old enough to drink.
“Look at that couple,” says owner Jim Gullo, pointing to a couple in their late 20s with a 2-year-old son. “They’ve been coming here since they were kids. They met here.”
Anthony DeVito, a Chicago furniture manufacturer, has been coming to the beach for a long, long time. In fact he liked it so much that, in 1957, he bought a lot at Sherman Street on the northern end of the beach. There he built his own three-story resort, Devito’s by the Sea, with a private apartment for himself on the third floor. All went well until his heart attack 15 years ago. DeVito recovered, but his doctor told him to climb no more stairs. Pointing out that his beloved penthouse was a two-story climb, DeVito objected. The doctor prescribed an elevator.
Today, thanks to the doctor’s suggestiontead for the glitz of luxury hotels to the north and south, in Fort Lauderdale and Miami Beach.
In the not-too-distant future, they may get just what they desire.
For years, merchants and restaurants located on the city-owned property by Johnson Street have been unable to secure long-term leases. They have had to wait while the city fathers change their minds again and again about the future of the beach.
First there was a 1984 plan, then a 1987 plan, and now a 1990 plan. The latest plan calls for new five-year leases on city-owned property. After the five years are up, the city plans to raze the Beach Theater Under The Stars and construct a multi-purpose recreation center in its place. Enticing a couple of major hotels to move in also is one of the city’s goals.
Much of what is planned would doubtless be an improvement to the Broadwalk, which has always had its share of seediness. But, with any luck, the beach’s true character will be saved by Hollywood’s tendency to torpedo its own grandiose plans.
And for the next five years at least, the beach, with all its exotic sights, sounds and smells, will still be ours to enjoy.
ALAN F. TROOP is a freelance writer. He lives in Plantation.
