Income disparity on Miami Beach is highest in nation BY TRENTON DANIEL
A source of hope and a symbol of displacement, the condo towers loom just
above Arthur Ford Jr.'s childhood home in Miami Beach, a tiny two-bedroom
apartment on a street freshly paved with reddish brick.

''When I step out and see those people in nice cars and nice suits, I think
that maybe in five years I'll be one of them,'' said Ford, 31, a produce
department employee at a gourmet food market. ``One day I'll be owning my
own business. I don't look at them with envy.''

Ford makes up a little-known yet sizable slice of Miami Beach -- the
not-so-rich, the working class and the fixed-income seniors. The beach bums,
the bartenders, the hotel employees.

Census data released earlier this year -- based on figures from 2006 to 2007
-- show this tropical sandbar city of some 90,000 has the highest income
disparity in the nation. That means the richest 20 percent of Miami Beach
households have 62.3 percent of income while the lowest 20 percent have a
mere 2.3 percent. Each should have 20 percent in a perfectly equal society.

The northern end of Miami Beach is markedly poorer than the city's middle
section or South Beach.

''It's almost certainly related to what kind of housing there is,'' said Ira
M. Sheskin, a geographer and professor at the University of Miami. ``There's
been a lot of expensive housing that's gone up, and you've had lower-income
immigrants move to the South Beach area in the not-too-distant past.''

Observers say planners designed a city -- and homes -- better suited for
singles than families, discouraging development of a robust middle class.

Today, condos and apartments -- not single-family homes -- abound, though
the city and some of its exclusive islands have mansions fronted by
sprawling lawns.

Beach residents say such outside-your-front-door proximity to wealth is a
means of inspiration as much as it is one of frustration. For some, the
affluence stretches their pocketbook. For others, it's an afterthought.

Take Frederick ''Freddy'' Markus: tenant of the roadside motel Southern Star
Condo at Fifth Street and Collins Avenue. Captain of a 55-foot
cream-of-the-crop yacht at the Miami Beach Marina. Owner of a 1991
Volkswagen van otherwise known as the ``surf mobile.''

''I'm a surfer, bachelor kind of dude,'' said Markus, 49, a Venezuela native
who moved to the United States in 1978 and the Beach 11 years later. ``Money
doesn't impress me.''

That cash doesn't preoccupy Markus, he says, suits him well as a yacht
captain for a New Jersey business tycoon. In summer, Markus motors the Sea
Ray 55 Sedan Bridge to the Garden State. In winter, he steers the Lindsey
Marie to the Sunshine State.

*A TWO-WAY STREET*

''I'm in the service of gazillionaires,'' said Markus, who spends almost
$900 a month on rent for a ''glorified studio'' and received a Christmas
bonus this year of $1,000.

Markus said he depends on the rich as much as the rich depend on him.

''If the economy collapsed, if the rich didn't have their toys, if they
became middle class, I would lose my job,'' Markus said. ``I depend on them
being very wealthy. . . . There is a symbiotic relationship there.''

Others are less philosophical about the mix of money and Miami Beach. The
place just costs a lot.

''You go to a restaurant, it's expensive. You go to the movies, it's
expensive,'' said Nonita Jacas, 70, a retired bank teller. ``You go out,
it's expensive.''

The cost of living for Jacas may run steep, but rent is relatively cheap --
$258 a month. With that, she enjoys what could pass as a million-dollar view
from her seventh-floor efficiency in the Rebecca Towers, 150-200 Alton Rd.
Sandwiched between Monty's Raw Bar and a 30-plus condo complex called the
Yacht Club, the two 13-story buildings make up the city's only public
housing facility -- and perhaps the nation's finest.

The vista from Jacas' bedroom-slash-living-room window: enamel-white yachts
anchored in Miami Beach Marina, where Markus scrubs his boss's very large
boat. Also visible: the U.S. Coast Guard base in Biscayne Bay and a
promenade that hugs the edge.

''The view is fantastic -- it's so beautiful,'' said Jacas, a Cuba native
who worked as a bank teller in Las Vegas and New York before decamping to
South Florida.

In her retirement, Jacas spends time with a younger sister. She takes the
bus to the dentist. She attends Sunday Mass at St. Francis de Sales Catholic
Church.

In this vault-like church at Lenox Avenue and Sixth Street -- a halfway
house hides behind a wall and a curtain of trees across the road -- the Rev.
Albert Cutié presides over an ever-changing congregation of about 500
families, small for a Catholic parish in South Florida.

*MIX OF PARISHIONERS*

One recent Sunday, middle-age men with dark suits strolled in. Couples in
faded denim and chunky sunglasses stumbled in. Cutié had begun the 11 a.m.
service.

''We have the wealthy and the very poor and nothing in between,'' Cutié, 39,
known as Padre Alberto, said in an interview. ``There are only two extremes
-- the lap of luxury and the poverty.''

The poverty has come to the parish's doorstep. Cutié said the church hired
an off-duty police officer for Sunday services six months ago after a series
of mid-service interruptions. Men from outside wandered in, yelling,
``Father -- help me!''

Just up the street, off West Avenue, live the Fords, one of the few
African-American families in Miami Beach; only 2.5 percent of the population
is black. The longtime residents worry about the rising cost of living but
also regard the beach's wealth as an asset.

Arthur Ford Sr., 64, moved to Miami Beach from Georgia in 1967. By accident
he landed a job at a local bakery and wanted to live close to work. He slept
in the basement -- a way to avoid nighttime run-ins with the cops.

Ford Sr. spent six months living in Overtown in the early 70s but left after
he got in a spat with somebody he believed stole his Sam Cooke and Fats
Domino eight-track tapes. From then on, Miami Beach beckoned.

'He said, `I'm going to do you a favor -- don't let me see you again and
we'll call it even,' '' Ford Sr. recounted about the thief. ``I went through
so much on the Beach, I was comfortable -- why leave?''

These days, the Fords live in the same apartment where Ford Jr. grew up,
before he shipped off for a brief stint in the U.S. Navy. Both take a
45-minute bus-ride to work at Epicure Gourmet Market & Café, a high-end shop
in Sunny Isles Beach that succeeded Wolfie Cohen's Rascal House, a deli that
closed after a 54-year run.

Once dubbed a ''Jewish resort'' because the city had so many Jewish retirees
decamped here, Miami Beach has seen much of its Jewish population pass away.
Later generations skipped Miami-Dade, opting for more affordable and
spacious locales, such as Broward and Palm Beach counties. While areas of
the city still have pockets of strong Jewish communities, and Mid-Beach has
a younger Orthodox population, the overall Jewish population has declined
here, said Sheskin, the UM geographer.

''The Beach is a lot more expensive than Miami,'' said Miriam Gerchakov, a
former Hebrew teacher who declined to reveal her age. ``If we can use the
word, it's crazily more expensive.''

Gerchakov, of Israel, moved to the Beach in 1980 after living in Coral
Gables as a psychology student at the University of Miami. She lived there
with her husband, an organic chemistry professor at the university.

*HUNTING FOR BARGAINS*

These days, the widow hops a Miami-bound bus to buy less expensive
groceries. A one-time customer at the nearby Whole Foods before it got too
pricey, she seeks out food deals.

Social Security checks and low-income housing help make the cost of living
manageable.

With so much money outside her door, Gerchakov pays little attention to it.

''When I look out the window I see beautiful high-rises -- that much I can
tell you,'' Gerchakov said, chuckling. ``But what do they say, the root of
all evils is money.''


-- 
"I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of
control, and at times hard to handle, but if you can't handle me at my
worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." ~Marilyn Monroe

--~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups 
"Black Focus Inc." group.
To post to this group, send email to [email protected]
To unsubscribe from this group, send email to 
[email protected]
For more options, visit this group at 
http://groups.google.com/group/Black-Focus-Inc?hl=en
-~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---

Reply via email to