Everglades Betrayal: The Issue that Defeated Al Gore

By Monika Mayr

With the 2000 presidential election as its backdrop, Everglades Betrayal describes incredible events surrounding the proposal to redevelop the Homestead Air Force Base into an airport located between Everglades National Park and Biscayne National Park in south Florida. An airport in that location would have profoundly impacted the area’s national treasures, and environmentalists fought hard against it. Presidential candidates, however, were trying to win voters in the undecided state and desperately sought the support of one of the airport’s biggest supporters, the Cuban American mayor of Miami-Dade County.

Readers of Everglades Betrayal will witness the strength and strategies of this country’s greatest environmental protectors, explore the infamous political scene in south Florida, understand the intricacies involved in redeveloping the former Homestead Air Force Base, and journey through the sub-tropical paradise of the greater Everglades ecosystem, including Biscayne National Park and Everglades National Park.

• Language: English
• Publisher: From Author to You
• Release date: Apr 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781090490087

Book preview

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Introduction

Sometimes, real life is more interesting than anything the imagination can conjure. The lessons and entertainment that unfolded throughout the saga of the Homestead Air Force Base redevelopment following its destruction by Hurricane Andrew need to be shared. With that purpose in mind, I took on this project several years ago.

The story of Homestead Air Force Base, two neighboring national parks, the surrounding community in which they exist, as well as the individual and group efforts undertaken to rebuild an area devastated by a natural disaster, is one that painfully illustrates the necessity for all levels of government to be involved in a project of this size. It brings to light the strength of dedicated and passionate souls who know the struggle to co-exist with the natural world intensifies when we forget our dependence on it for survival. Short-sighted vision during the redevelopment process wasted time—precious time that we could not afford. In the end, the lessons learned taught the value of open disclosure and collaboration.

In this story, bureaucratic red tape falls behind political maneuvering and personnel recycling. Names and faces were the same; responsibilities changed. People dropped out temporarily and resurfaced in another position. Agendas were hidden, and public disclosure was calculated. Throughout the complicated maze that was the redevelopment process, opportunities to correct costly missteps were at every turn. However, ultimately, the most costly mistake at the highest level came to fruition.

This is a story of strategies to go for the green. There were winning and losing strategies and their consequences. It is a story of a perceived betrayal that led to a disappointing defeat. And, it is a story of strength, perseverance, and victory! It involves so many people that deserve recognition. However, for simplicity, I had to leave out many dedicated and passionate contributors from my retelling; I hope they will forgive me. I paraphrased their conversations, and I regret not emphasizing the critical role the media played in shaping events and hope someone will someday tell that part of the story.

To assist the reader, I have included a timeline and a list of participating parties in the appendices.

It has been fulfilling to write about the saga and learn from those involved in it. I want to thank each of them for spending time with me and for sharing their insights: Dick Frost, Wendy O’Sullivan, Karyn Ferro, Nat Wood, Bill Leary, Don Jodrey, Robin Brandin, Jim Murley, Julio Fanjul, Alan Farago, Richard Grosso, Lacy Hoover, Nat Reed, Brad Sewell, and Bruce Babbitt. I am also grateful to Curtis Morgan for his help with researching the Miami Herald archives and Robyn Schuricht and Mark Kinzer for their expert editing. Finally, I am forever thankful for Bebe Fish, her friendship, and unwavering support and for my parents, Otto and Dorothy Mayr, their love, teachings, and nurturing.

I hope you enjoy the following story. It is based on real events. There are heroes, successes, and blunders. It is a story of selfless efforts to protect those that cannot protect themselves: great blue herons, alligators, egrets, manatees, dolphins, turtles, angelfish, coral polyps...

One

Change Happens

From the beginning of the agricultural era, humans have made their presence on this earth obvious. In fact, we have started to dominate the earth by changing the landscape in extreme proportions to accommodate our needs. Some of those changes attempt to minimize impacts to natural habitats and their inhabitants; unfortunately most do not. People who have figured out ways to co-exist with the birds, reptiles, mammals, insects, and all that sustains them eventually mitigate society’s major mistakes, like the plans proposed for the Homestead Air Force Base. These plans did not contemplate co-existence; their sole purpose was to continue developing south Florida to accommodate more people, businesses, industries, and a few politicians.

In the early 1900s, Henry Flagler built a rail line that connected north Florida to Key West to service Florida’s residents. This line allowed for easy transport and, therefore, permanent settlement along its route. Miami began as a small town and grew into a bustling city of investors and developers. By the mid-1900s, more land was needed for the numerous people wanting to settle in the area, for their homes, businesses, and agricultural needs. However, the free-flowing water systems seamlessly weaving throughout the region created a host of swamp and wetland habitats that were, simply put, an obstacle. To overcome this difficulty, the Corps of Engineers designed massive drainage systems that crisscrossed the small peninsula. In doing so, changes occurred. Land dried up. Animals moved out, and people moved in.

Rapid population growth coupled with a sharp distinction between the classes shoved Miami into several decades of crime and corruption—corruption that could be found on every street corner, in many boardrooms, and in most government chambers. Interestingly, the region earned its Banana Republic reputation from this era of twisted campaign financing, questionable political appointments, and lucrative contracts.

By 1990, Miami was slowly changing its reputation. The community was becoming increasingly interested in knowing what was going on behind closed doors, in addition to being involved in its own governance.

However, for those who profited from it, the scandalous culture endured and, lacking direct consequences, persisted. Conviction, perseverance, and higher levels of government were needed to expose selfish and misdirected decisions of some very influential people.

Miami’s connection to Latin America had caught the attention of national policy-makers for some time, causing a heightened interest in the happenings of south Florida. It is not surprising that Miami, to this day, embraces its Latin American connection and promotes it as one of the region’s most promising drivers of change and growth. International financing, commerce, and tourism are the foundation for this connection, and Miami International Airport profits from and contributes to all three aspects. Financiers, businessmen and women, tourists, and cargo pass through the airport on a daily basis. It is one of the busiest airports in the country, and plans for its expansion have been discussed and considered for years. However, in 1990, its downtown location limited any possibilities for growth. Alternatives were necessary to fuel further development and economic growth in Miami and surrounding Miami-Dade County.

A Fateful Discovery

Planners and decision-makers noticed the sleepy area forty miles to the south. It had been some time since the City of Homestead and Florida City were rejected as an alternative location for an airport during the rapid change in downtown Miami largely because of their rural location, agricultural base, and being home to three large federal areas: Biscayne National Park, Everglades National Park, and the Homestead Air Force Base. The two small towns, their adjoining unincorporated areas, and their federally regulated neighbors demonstrated a successful mix of diverse cultures: military and support personnel, military retirees, farmers, and local businesses. The small, thirteen-square-mile city of Homestead was, in fact, the center of Miami-Dade County’s agricultural industry, which was the dominant land use in the area. Rows of tomatoes, beans, potatoes, and squash filled the wide, flat fields. Other land was used for cultivating fruit orchards and landscaping nurseries. The prevalent architectural style included wooden farm homes and one- and two-story single-family homes surrounded by yards, gardens, and outbuildings. The rural area sharply contrasted the cosmopolitan climate of downtown Miami with its international business, rapid development, and swelling population only a short drive to the north.

Homestead Air Force Base anchored rural south Miami-Dade County’s economy, employing 8,700 personnel with an annual payroll of $152 million. The base pumped an estimated $430 million into the local economy and provided desirable services, health care, and pharmacy and recreational facilities to more than 30,000 military retirees in south Florida. Its one-mile runway was capable of handling the largest airplanes flown at the time, and airport expansion planners coveted its layout. In fact, they envisioned another era for a facility that had experienced many changes in its history.

Begun in the mid-1900s as an isolated airstrip operated by the Army Air Corps, the facility endured 10 years of inactive status before being reactivated with B-47s carrying atom bombs and B-52s that later carried hydrogen bombs. With heightened awareness of the country’s vulnerability to a Cuban assault, the base was most active in the 1960s. The prestigious 31st Tactical Fighter Wing moved from the George Air Force Base in California to the Homestead Air Force Base in Florida, and the base’s population grew to tens of thousands. Clear flying weather and open-water flight paths allowed for the finest flying operations. During the 1980s and early 1990s, training was the base’s primary concern, with its F-4 fighter crews. Its pilots claimed many awards and honors, and it was regarded as a distinguished assignment with a critical mission, strong community support, and desirable surroundings.

Homestead Air Force Base’s location between two national parks did not influence local planners in their quest to expand growth and development. They were not aware of the delicate and nationally important resources in their front and back yards, of the degradation that would occur from thoughtless development nearby, and of the numerous people who valued the resources and their conviction to preserve them. However, their lack of awareness was about to change.

Homestead. From SEIS, December 2000.

Area Map. Graphic from SEIS, December 2000.

The Landscape

The south Florida peninsula, a web of tropical life shaped and interconnected by wind and water, is far different from most of the continent. Interesting plants and animals find home in the distinct habitats here. The low-lying, flat plane, inundated much of the year by slow moving freshwater, is known as the Everglades. Small islands peek above the water that is one to two feet deep, interrupting the characteristic open prairies of sawgrass, home to colorful birds. Called hammocks, these islands provide refuge for a variety of wildlife. Flowing water is guided by geologic formations much like riverbanks. Larger than hammock islands, pine rocklands provide habitat for larger animals, including the Florida panther. Further along in its journey, freshwater meets saltwater, and the mix is a playground for plants and animals. This is the only place on earth where alligators and crocodiles coexist.

The shallow Florida Bay boasts some of the best fishing in the state for those willing to venture through the twisting passages hidden by the many mangrove forests. Modern navigation devices prove useless in the maze. With manatees and dolphins as guides, it is the great escape for people searching for the tranquility of nature. From osprey in the trees to algae squeezed through a fistful of plankton, abundant nature welcomes anyone interested in it.

Florida Bay’s sisters to the northeast are Barnes Sound, Card Sound, and Biscayne Bay. Similar to family bloodlines, water from Florida Bay travels through both of the Sounds and into Biscayne Bay. Here, it becomes one with the ocean, nourishing abundant marine life. Biscayne Bay’s western mangrove coastline anchors the shore and filters pollutants from freshwater before it enters the bay. Infant shrimp, crabs, fishes, and birds nestle within the protective roots and limbs of these mangroves. Adolescent siblings thrive in seagrasses of the shallow estuarine bay. Manatees, dolphins, and sea turtles have been here for hundreds of years.

A chain of emerald islands, the Florida Keys, makes the intermingling between bay water and ocean water possible with each changing tide. The islands interrupt an otherwise continuous mix of fresh and salt water that creates currents around and between them. Nutrient-rich bay water finds its way to hungry fishes, microscopic organisms, and phytoplankton of the coral reef platform.

The water that connects these habitats also provides a protective barrier from terrestrial onlookers who do not immerse themselves in it. And those that do are tourists in another world. The underwater world invites visitors, but keeps each visit short. Its mystery constantly evolves for the few who venture down under. Coral reefs and their fishes and animals excite observers and inspire wonder. Each year, divers and snorkelers marvel at the variety of colors and shapes, underwater sounds, and perpetual movement. The blanket of water levitates and separates these visitors to safe vantage points of the underwater world.

Humans living in these challenging environments have relied on bounties of the sea for thousands of years. Conch shell middens recall a time when the daily catch sustained the few who lived there. A robust shipping industry provided for the exchange of goods and people from other lands. Ancillary to exploration and the shipping industry was the wrecking industry, which thrived because of the many maritime casualties succumbing to the extensive reef system hidden below the water’s surface. Piracy claimed a few more. Agriculture further inland sustained larger populations.

Realizing the changes affecting this landscape, Congress established the Everglades National Park on December 6, 1947, to ensure 460,000 acres of land would remain unaltered. The enabling legislation directed Everglades National Park to be wilderness, (where) no development... or plan for the entertainment of visitors shall be undertaken which will interfere with the preservation intact of the unique flora and fauna of the essential primitive natural conditions now prevailing in this area. This preservation mandate is one of the strongest in the legislative history of the National Park Service (NPS).

Congress increased the size of Everglades National Park several times to its current size of 1,509,000 acres, the largest wilderness east of the Mississippi River. Everglades National Park takes up the majority of the southeastern tip of Florida. At the park ’s dedication, President Truman reflected, Here are no lofty peaks seeking the sky, no mighty glaciers or rushing streams wearing away the uplifted land. Here is land, tranquil in its quiet beauty, serving not as the source of water, but as the last receiver of it. To its natural abundance we owe the spectacular plant and animal life that distinguishes this place from all others in our country.

Everglades Birds feeding, photo by South Florida Water Management District.

Everglades Sawgrass, photo by Bob DeGross, Everglades employee.

Further east is another national park, born of development proposals brewing in the early 1960s. An oil refinery, Sea Dade, was proposed on the shores of Biscayne Bay, and a tropical resort, Islandia, was proposed on Elliott Key. Listening to an active group of conservationists, Congress established the 65,000-acre Biscayne National Monument on October 18, 1968, then enlarged it to 173,000 acres and changed its name to Biscayne National Park in 1980. In doing so, Congress recognized the special qualities of this unique area and directed the National Park Service to preserve and protect for the education, inspiration, recreation, and enjoyment of present and future generations a rare combination of terrestrial, marine, and amphibious life in a tropical setting of great natural beauty.

Today, park visitors realize Congress’ wisdom in preserving this wonderful treasure. They imagine the past, discover the present, and contemplate the future reflected in the Biscayne National Park waters that connect a variety of natural communities to each other as well as to the human spirit.

Preserving the Landscape

The Everglades and Biscayne National Parks preserve the distinction between man and nature, symbolizing the hope that one day there won’t be a distinction. Both parks allow people to visit a world governed by weather, wind, and water—in a word, nature. In these places, people escape from their everyday lives and are enriched by the experience. However, the establishment of an area as a national park is not the end of its preservation. Continuous pressure and changes in the landscape have far reaching effects. For