Pastor of People’s Church, Minneapolis, Minn.
Palm Beach is the place where the palm is held out for your money as soon
as you land. Here nothing is free save the air, looks and morals of the
visitors. On the beach color, costume, commotion, low necks, high skirts,
bare legs, wicked winks and studied poses kindle the onlooker’s thoughts
into a flame that Neptune cannot put out. This is the place for high
jinks that would shame the half-naked savages of the South Seas and outdo
the love-antics of the nymphs and gods in old mythology.
Dinner is the day’s event at the Poinciana Hotel. ’Tis a thrilling
sight to see an army of waiters “charge” through miles of dinner table
trenches, while the guests, armed with sabre knives and bayonet forks,
fight to get food. After the attack the survivors sit around in the
lobby, stand or march about the miles of halls and foyers, shooting
glances at each other and attempting to make “conquests.” Despite the
heat of the room, there were many chilling glances and cold shoulders if
you were not one of the “regulars.” Giddy boys and girls, thoroughbred
sports of men and women, were all there to see and be seen, to show all
they dared, to flaunt their gold and diamonds and exhibit everything
they could on their outside which did but advertise the naked poverty of
their inner mentality and morality.
Amid all this glare, gold and giddiness, I watched an old woman, who was
out of the society race, but painfully anxious to be noticed. This slave
of fashion with rope of pearls around her neck, bosom bound round with
chains of gold, and handcuffed with bracelets, leaned back in her chair.
When she saw me look at her she raised the lace on her breast that I
might see her hidden diamonds, then rested her withered arms for me to
admire her bracelets, moved her bony, be-diamonded fingers, heaved her
upholstered bosom and writhed her wrinkled, snaky neck.
Ye Gods, what a sight! This last leaf on Life’s tree—this winter of
discontent amid these tropical surroundings—this dying spark in life’s
conflagration of passion—this woman of three score years making this
unholy show of herself, when she ought to be in bed or with a Bible on
her knees preparing to meet her God. This after-dinner sideshow was a
fulsome fiesta of Fashion, a vicious Vanity Fair.
The “Beach Club” is the Monte Carlo of the U. S. A. To gain admission
you must be a member, or be vouched for by a member in good standing. I
met a member who offered to take me in and show me around. I had seen
the real Monte Carlo abroad and was told this was like it with its games
and sports. I did manage to get by the Cerberus at the door, but was
then politely stopped by a smiling, monkey flunkey with an expression
of “Thus far shalt thou go and go further.” He informed me I couldn’t
enter without being in evening dress. Since I was like the man in the
Scripture, without the wedding garment, I was cast out. Nevertheless, at
the door I saw two old satyrs taking a chance with two powdered, painted
dames, who in life’s game had lost everything worth having. One of the
girls was tipsy. They made some fly remarks and were welcomed in.
This “Beach” Club is a place of financial and moral wrecks. It is openly
run in defiance of the Florida state law against gambling. There is not
a law of man or God that it does not break, except the one that unless
you wear a tuxedo or Prince Albert you cannot enter. Here hearts, heads
and bank accounts are broken. Fabulous amounts exchange hands among
the players. If you are just a looker-on you pay for the privilege—a
dollar for a glass of water or ten dollars a plate for a light luncheon.
Question: Why does the government pinch the little gamblers and permit
this “White House” to be a black palace of ruin and despair?
There is some excuse for the routine of an insane asylum but none for
the silly Palm Beach daily program. Here it is: Yawns, idleness, ennui
and indigestion; dressing for beach and undressing for dinner; sun-tan
of the “Browning Club” and tonic baths; whisking around in an invalid
wheel chair in company of dudes and pug-dogs; driveling talk of clothes
and looks; drinking pink tea or cocktails; reading the latest trash;
spooning, dancing, flirting, golfing, yachting, sporting, and parading
high-priced dogs, cats and monkeys whose mentality and morals are often
higher than their owners’.
Even Mother Nature here is togged out in society form, laced and
corseted. Trees and flowers are trimmed out of all picturesqueness;
natural curves give way to geometrical squares; lawns are imprisoned
in concrete curbs; the air is perfumed with the balmy fragrance of
cigarettes and cigars; there in no rest found beneath palms, fruit
trees or among plants and flowers on account of the stinging swarms of
society gnats. Florid Florida folders describe Palm Beach as “paradise,”
but the attractions to me were outside of the garden. Everything is
over-estimated. It is very far from the luxuriance of Hawaii, the sport
of Monte Carlo, the beauty and history of Mediterranean resorts. It takes
more than a railroad and a big hotel to beat them.
Palm Beach pauperizes and provokes. Her short season sickens and shames.
She is the painted, pampered prostitute of Florida. “Do as you damn
please” is her motto. This was no place for a minister’s son, so I
stood not upon the order of my going, but went by the first midnight
train—before I lost all my money and morals.
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