Riding my bike down Las Olas Boulevard the other evening I saw that Fort Lauderdale has taken the phrase "going green" literally.
On the south side of our main street - one chock-a-block with shops, boutiques, cafes, restaurants - now sits a lot of bright green grass bordered by low flimsy hedges.
A few months ago this space was taken up by two of the liveliest downtown businesses: Cafe Europa and O'Hara's. The latter had live music (some people called it jazz) and a neon sign proclaiming it to be "world famous." I have traveled a fair amount, and I have to admit that I never found anyone outside of South Florida who had ever heard of the place.
I suppose the local ruling class wasn't too impressed by the claim either, because O'Hara's and Cafe Europa and a few other businesses were leveled to make room for the expansion of the Riverside Hotel. The Riverside Hotel was a lovely, unassuming hostelry until, a number of years ago, it built a bruiser of a parking garage - the tallest building in the immediate vicinity - and placed it on the New River (topping it off with a couple floors of rooms). Fort Lauderdale, unique among cities, recognized the beauty of its river and then bookended it with parking garages.
Shortly after the demolition, the rubbled lot was surrounded by covered fences. The fact that sheets of turf have been shipped in and laid out suggests that the expansion won't be happening any time soon.
First-time visitors will be surprised by the presence of a treeless park in the middle of a commercial street. Repeat visitors will be reminded of the lot just a little to the west, where for years an abandoned Hyde Park market sat, and now - for years - a condo (no)sales office has squatted. We are becoming the city of empty spaces.
