Showing posts with label The Achiever. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Achiever. Show all posts

Monday, February 21, 2022

Maggy Hurchalla: She Understood The Assignment! … by gimleteye

Maggy Hurchalla, an environmental hero in Florida, died last weekend unexpectedly. We featured Maggy on our blog over the years. We wished the mainstream press and media had, too. 

To read our work on Maggy, click here: 

Maggy Hurchalla and Eye On Miami.

Her passing is a great loss. Below you'll find a blog post from January 2015. I hope Gov. Ron DeSantis takes time read it. He is in the Governor's Mansion in no small part because Florida environmentalists loudly returned his competitor, Adam Putnam, to the private sector. 

Putnam is a wealthy farmer who owed his political life to Big Sugar. Environmentalists did not hesitate to let Florida voters know.

The reason Ron DeSantis should take the time to read about Maggy Hurchalla? 

Because the Florida legislature is in the midst of another horrible legislative effort to give Big Sugar what it wants, when it wants. That's the battle Maggy Hurchalla fought. DeSantis should think a little bit about what she stood for.

Maggy understood what scientists claimed as loudly as they could afford to (and still be employed): that the only way to fix Florida's water woes and the Everglades was to purchase lands currently used to farm sugar, the most heavily subsidized crop in the United States.

Big Sugar had other plans. It felt the pressure and reacted. In 2017, the sugar industry used legislation proposed by Senate President Joe Negron to pass a horrible bill into law. A Trojan Horse. Classic.

The Negron legislation started out as a way to address the wicked toxic algae blooms exploding on both Florida coasts because Lake Okeechobee is managed within an inch of its life to accommodate Big Sugar.

The bill that eventually passed in 2017 included other horribles; for example, stripping state agencies from using eminent domain on sugar lands. 

Maggy never gave up. She was as determined and smart and sharp and vigorous as they come. She knew the Everglades because she had lived them. She knew the Everglades because she loved them.

Maggy Hurchalla understood the assignment! God speed.


****


The following is the original blogpost from January 2015: "The attached OPED is by Maggy Hurchalla, Miami native and former Martin County commissioner, whose interview featured here; our first 'Achiever' of 2015. Read Maggie's OPED, next to my broadside earlier this week on Adam Putnam, Florida Secretary of Agriculture, and Big Sugar, the Great Destroyers of Florida.

Miami is as affected as any other part of the state by water policies favoring the Great Destroyers, but Miamians need to look up from their shoelaces, sandals, and Guccis and see that the water policies dramatically impacting the rest of the state also are central issues, right here.

When all the Everglades were good for, was draining
The bottom line: Big Sugar has to let go of central land holdings in order to protect the water supply affecting millions of Floridians and the dying Everglades. They will do this either as willing sellers or through eminent domain. They are strenuously resisting either.

Read my OPED on Putnam, to understand how Big Sugar is gaming the media, the system, and taxpayers, pointing in the direction of endless delay.

The Miami-Dade County Commission has been deathly silent on "sending the water south". Lots of money was made in Miami, representing Big Sugar in legal proceedings and selling farm equipment to the Everglades Agricultural Area.

The stakes are so high that continued silence by Mayor Gimenez and the county commission is no longer tolerable. The weight of the county and the Dade delegation to the legislature is considerable. It is decades beyond the time for clamoring by our elected officials in Miami, send the water south. Instead, we've had mouthpieces for the Great Destroyers like Pepe Diaz acting like experts about the need for more drainage of the Everglades. What is missing is leadership.

BUY THE LAND: SEND THE WATER SOUTH

That's the war cry of the folks where dumping Lake Okeechobee to the east and to the west coasts is literally killing their estuaries. Comprehensive Everglades Restoration has to send the water south.

It's not hysteria. Even the Corps of Engineers agrees that without a change in water management, the St. Lucie Estuary will be irrevocably destroyed. Irrevocable is forever.

The irony is that the people who need to be shouting loudest are the residents of Miami-Dade County. They have been strangely silent.

A recent Herald editorial pointed out…

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Maggy Hurchalla: "The law says they (George Lindemann Jr. and George Lindemann Sr.) can't sell water. They claim that selling water is part of rock mining and they have the right to sell "the waters of the state" ... by gimleteye

Maggie Hurchalla needs money for her defense of a lawsuit levied against her, personally, (SLAPP suit) by the Miami Beach Lindemann family.

We have written about Hurchalla, a Miami native and former Martin County commissioner, extensively:, here and here and here (use our search feature, for more). The lawsuit against her, by Lindemann, claims she interfered with permitting of a rock mine -- including the plan to sell of water from that rock mine to a Florida municipality. The following is from Maggy Hurchalla's website:
In January 2013, George Lindemann, Jr., the owner of Lake Point filed a SLAPP suit against me for criticizing his rockpit project in Martin County. I stated in an email to County Commissioners that a hole in the ground in porous soil would not store water and the project would not save the Everglades or the St. Lucie Estuary. Freedom of speech is a wonderful thing. It’s particularly offensive to get sued for something you said when everything you said is true. A Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation is not intended to win. It is intended to intimidate by costing lots of time and money. I am continuing to SLAPP Back because I can’t admit that I secretly and maliciously lied about the project when what I did was to publicly and loudly tell the truth about it.
Originally, Lindemann marketed his Lake Pointe project to EB 5 program foreign investors. He had been a successful Miami developer on Biscyane Boulevard in the 2000's before seizing the opportunity, called to his attention by Big Sugar interests in Palm Beach, to become a rock miner.

Lindemann's property is at the south eastern edge of the Lake Okeechobee area. For the Palm Beach Post, Sally Swartz wrote in Feb. 2013, "Developer’s SLAPP suit seeks to silence Maggy Hurchalla":
The SLAPP — Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation — is nothing new in Martin County and on the Treasure Coast. Still, it is a shock that the developers of the Lake Point rock mines last week targeted environmentalist Maggy Hurchalla, demanding she retract what she has said to Martin commissioners in public meetings and e-mails criticizing the mining operation.

“It’s definitely a SLAPP suit,” Ms. Hurchalla’s lawyer Virginia Sherlock said, “The purpose is not to win, but to shut Maggy up and scare others. She has done nothing wrong.”

The lawsuit alleges Ms. Hurchalla, a former county commissioner and court-recognized expert on Martin’s protective growth plan, made false statements about Lake Point to try to kill a deal its developers made with the last county commission majority.

The 2009 deal gives Lake Point the right to mine its 2,200 acre property for 20 years. Then it would create a storm water treatment area to clean water flowing into the St. Lucie River, and to provide drinking water for West Palm Beach. The rock mine is located in southeast Martin County near Lake Okeechobee.

Developers of the mine contributed to the campaigns of current Commissioner Doug Smith($9,000) and former commissioners Ed Ciampi ($9,000) and Patrick Hayes ($7,000), the majority that approved the deal. Voters booted Mr. Hayes and Mr. Ciampi in the last election.

The deal includes a contract between the county and the South Florida Water Management District that claims Lake Point is exempt from local regulations.

Along with Ms. Hurchalla, Lake Point also is suing Martin County and the water management district.

The SLAPP suit claims Ms. Hurchalla “is singling out Lake Point” and trying to put it out of business and that the project has followed the rules, hasn’t destroyed wetlands and has met public notice requirements.

Ms. Hurchalla has made no comment on the lawsuit.

Criticizing government is, of course, a constitutional right. A SLAPP is not filed with the intent to go trial but to intimidate people, to scare them and to shut them up. The idea is that when the defendants have to spend money on lawyers and endure the stress of a lawsuit, protests will end.

But residents, Ms. Sherlock said, “have the right to petition the government for redress of grievances. Comments and communications with elected officials are very highly protected. The idea you should get sued for speaking out is mind-boggling.”

Rock mining is a highly profitable industry in Florida, dominated by large, secretive and mostly foreign-owned corporations. It is quixotic for an individual investor to jump into its midst, without any prior experience and only capital.

It is not clear if "selling water" that belongs to the people of Florida was Lindemann's original plan for the development at the heart of Lindemann's suit against Hurchalla and if fellow billionaires in Florida who own hundreds of thousands of acres around Lake Okeechobee recruited him to be their proxy; to fight for what they really want -- not just to own the land but to own the water above and under their land.

In an age of scarcity, there is no commodity more precious than water. To be instantly granted ownership of water to go along with property rights would fundamentally change the state of Florida.

Using a lawsuit, a SLAPP suit, to help rewrite Florida water law would fit the interests of everyone from the Fanjuls to the other big land owners in Florida including the King Ranch in Texas. It is not for nothing that US Sugar flew by private jet top GOP legislators and Gov. Rick Scott from Florida to Texas for luxury hunting trips on property where the King Ranch also owns the water underneath. (Scott, by the way, reached out to Hurchalla before the Nov. 2014 election, to show his sincerity in wanting to understand how to better protect Florida's environment-- a ploy repellant in retrospect of Scott's anti-environmental jihad since reelection.)

Who put George Lindemann up to the wisdom of changing Florida water law? Being a proxy for other billionaires, including Big Sugar Fanjuls who have also pressed to permit rock mining in the Everglades Agricultural Area, could explain why the court record for this lawsuit, according to Hurchalla, now totals nearly three hundred thousand pages.

The use of the legal system to harass citizens ought to raise the ire of Floridians throughout the state. In the last session of the legislature, a new law was passed making it harder for special interests to levy SLAPP suits. That law can't help Maggy Hurchalla now. You can.

If you have money to give to a great cause in Florida, help Maggy now.



Wednesday, January 07, 2015

The Achiever: Maggy Hurchalla … by gimleteye

This is the second and final part of our interview with our first 2015 "Achiever": Maggy Hurchalla. Part One appeared yesterday and can be found at this link. We interviewed Maggy at the Reno family home in Kendall, the home where four siblings were raised beginning in 1947. A brother, Mark, was a Miami-Dade court bailiff and extraordinary outdoorsman. Bob was a financial columnist for Newsday. Maggy's sister, Janet, is the former state attorney in Miami-Dade and then attorney general of the United States under President Bill Clinton. Maggy visits Miami frequently to be with her sister and family here. She is a former four-term county commissioner in Martin County, a recent inductee of the Everglades Coalition Hall of Fame, and a real achiever.


EOM: Out here in the wilds of what is now Kendall -- a sprawling metropolis of nearly 300,000 residents today -- the Renos were pioneers.

MH: We were a very close family. Mom and dad passed: daddy in late 1960's and mom died at 79 years old right after Hurricane Andrew. She was born in 1913.

EOM: How did you get involved with land use issues in Martin County?

MH: My husband, Jim, and I moved to Martin County in 1968. We bought a lot looking out at the waterway for $5,000. One day we were heading out the St. Lucie Inlet to go fishing, and there was a rainbow touching on either side. On one side, the rainbow touched the St. Lucie Seashore Park. Where the rainbow touched on the other side of the inlet, there was a "for sale" sign. 640 acres. At that point in time it would have zoned for 15 units per acre. Most of it was mangrove swamp. So I went home and found it was half owned by Harvard Medical School. I happened to have some friends there and embarrassed Harvard. "You can't build in pristine mangroves!" In the end I discovered that if you pull every string and press every button you have a chance, but if you just go home and cry, nothing happens.

EOM: So you became an environmentalist, but it is not exactly as though you had just fallen off a log and discovered how beautiful Florida was.

MH: In the process of being a mother with four children, the local Audubon group found me. We had a great Audubon chapter in Martin County at the time. We have an environmental hall of fame, and those first soldiers were early retirees, well-to-do, who loved to fish and who came when it was relatively empty. They didn't live in McMansions, they didn't have 70 foot yachts. They had nice boats, but they were for fishing. They were former Wall Street people and they were very effective.

EOM: At the time, Martin County must have felt a little bit like your childhood?

MH: Yes. In 1968 Martin County felt like Miami in 1940. We couldn't afford a laundry machine. I saw a land crab walking across the laundromat floor in downtown Stuart, and at that moment I said, "Home!" One day, coming down A1A to pick up kids from school, there was a rattlesnake in the middle of the road so I stopped on the shoulder, grabbed axe out of my trunk, and as I was raking it off to the side an old fisherman with no teeth pulls up. He says, "What you doin?" I said, "I need a snakeskin and we are going to fry it." The fisherman says, "What's it taste like?" I answered, "Not as gamey as water moccasin."

EOM: Tell us a snake story that is about politicians.

MH: One more real snake story. Right after we moved into our house in Stuart, we were all sitting on the porch. Mom was visiting. I had her first four grandchildren, all under the age of six at the time. A fisherman put-puts right up within hearing distance. "Rattlesnake coming ashore!" he yells. Well I didn't want a resident rattler. When that snake came ashore I held it down with the rake and my dear mother chopped off its head with the axe. She fried it for us in beer batter. I saw more snakes in Stuart than I ever did in Miami. The only poisonous snake I ever knew in Kendall killed our dog following the big hurricane in 1947. Never caught the snake but poor old Liza had fang marks on either side of her head.

EOM: So how did you get into politics?

MH: Back then, in the early 1970s, my hero was a county commissioner named Paul Eugene Powers. Everyone called him, Timer. Timer had a way with people. He could get along with anybody and had a combination of decency and smarts and he was good with people. That is really, really rare. He got on commission when he was 28 years old, and he was on for two or three terms. Timer worked with the conservation alliance in Martin County which were heroes of the environmental hall of fame. He also worked independently with really basic things, like having subdivision regulations. He stopped the dredging of canals to create waterfront and drain the back country.

EOM: Sounds like what passes for heresy in Florida.

MH: He got the four story height limitation. In 1972, when I was a member of the audience, he got passed an ordinance that you couldn't clear a piece of land before you got a development approval. That was revolutionary.

Timer created something called the water board. Between Timer and Ed Geary, a local dentist who had been appointed to the county commission to fill the term of a commissioner who went to jail, I got appointed to the water board. That was when mangrove swamps were still being turned into bulkheaded condo sites and we were just learning that canals and overdrainage was causing salt water to seep into our drinking water wells. At the time Gerald Lewis was my sister, Janny's, law partner and a state representative. I told him I would make him an expert on water, because I was reading every one of those Army Corps of Engineers volumes on raising and extending the dike holding Lake Okeechobee. Each one was like a step to damnation. Back then, the Lake was kept at 15 foot elevation. The state asked Congress to direct the Corps to raise the dike in order to provide more water for Miami-Dade and expanding sugar farms south of the Lake. It wasn't about Miami-Dade. It was all about Big Sugar. The Game and Fish Commission at the time did a great study, showing the harm that would be done to the estuaries and to the marshes that make Lake Okeechobee a living lake. No one paid any attention. We wouldn't be in such a disastrous situation today if the Corps and the politicians had listened to the Game Commission.

EOM: So I take it, the developers didn't like you much on the water board?

MH: Well I had three or four other amiable people on the board and we found ways to do thing to make environmental protection, stick. I remember one engineer, Lenny Lendall, brought in a plan for building five canals off the Loxahatchee River. We said, "no way." The next meeting he comes back with a proposal for four canals, and the meeting after that for three. At the end of this process he comes up to me and says, "Maggy, you're destroying my marriage. I'm having nightmares at night and shouting your name. My wife thinks I'm having an affair."

EOM: You were effective.

MH: In Martin County, we would draft a rule. We didn't know anything about rules, but we were very much ahead of our time with mangrove protection. The South Florida Water Management District took our rules in Martin as a starting point for their own.

EOM: So how did you get onto the Martin County Commission?

MH: My first race was in 1974. Ed Geary first announced he wasn't running, and I would never have run against him because he appointed me to the water board and was an environmentalist, at least he was at the beginning. But then some developers got ahold of him and said, no way we can have Maggy Hurchalla as a county commissioner, so he jumped back in the primary. I beat him and then won the general election. There were 30,000 people in Martin County then. I campaigned against the developers: "Your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins." The guy running as a Republican ran an ad ' If Maggy Hurchalla is elected, another nail will never be driven in Martin County.' I was 34 years old. My mother looked at my campaign poster and said, "That will look fine if your constituents want a 12 year old commissioner."

EOM: Sounds like you enjoyed running for office.

MH: I had a self-imposed campaign contribution limit of of $100 dollars. I did not take money from anyone with business before the county commisison even if I liked them and were friends. Most I ever raised for an election was $30,000. My opponents always outspent me two or three times to one.

EOM: So you were on the county commission starting, when?

1974. We baked chocolate chip cookies and handed them out at flea markets and generally had a good time. I had a fantatstic support group. No computers. Everything addressed in real handwriting and stamped by hand. I didn't do signs. In 1980, a Martin County developer, Bill Watson, spent over $100K and brought in President Reagan's pollster. They did focus groups around Martin County to find out what they needed to do to beat me. What they didn't figure in that Martin County is a small place. The focus group participants would come home and call me up and tell me everything. So the consultant asks a friend, "What would Maggy have to to do, for you to vote against her?" She answered, "She'd have to die."

I served 5 terms. Twenty years on the county commission. Lost in 1994. We had a $14 million sick court house and someone needed to be blamed. It didn't matter that I was the one who voted against the courthouse in the first place.

EOM: How did the politics change, Maggy?

MH: There was attrition, but there was also a significant shift in the electorate. My first election I won with 60 percent of vote as a Democrat. The folks who came to Stuart to retire were lifelong Republicans. We went from 2/3's registered Democrats to 2/3's registered Republicans in just a few years. Newcomers to Florida are more likely to vote a straight party ticket. Take a look at Amendment 1 versus state political races. Then too the vast majority of Floridians think of themselves as environmentalist, but when it comes to voting for political office they don't vote on that issue. (EOM note: Amendment 1 passed by 78% of the popular vote in the Nov. 2014 election and will provide a "secure" source of funding through real estate transactions for environmental purposes, although the state legislature is now fiddling with what that means, exactly, with many special interest groups lining up to make sure their hand is in the till.)

I have always said that we got Lucky in Martin County. Not that we were so brave. Back in the 1970's we were relatively undeveloped. Lawsuits in Miami-Dade had allowed for a tremendous no-holds barred growth of development in wetlands. Miami-Dade County tried to fight in the courts on what constitutes "highest and best use". In the fifties, the courts sided with the developers and farmers every time. If a high rise condo was deemed the highest and best use, that's what got built. If it was a subdivision, well just look at Kendall Drive. There's the story: they won and we all lost and lost and lost on the issues of quality of life and the environment.

EOM: And yet you prevailed in Martin County.

MH: In the late 1960s, there were some really important legal precedents -- not just in Florida but in states like Wisconsin -- that began to give strength to those of us who wanted the environmental resources of a place to be considered in the evaluation of "highest and best use". In Martin County, we were on the front lines with those legal precedents in hand and we didn't give an inch. The County defended its strict environmental policies in court. On wetlands protection our local circuit jusdge ruled "Not only are the wetland protection policies fairly debatable, I can't imagine a fair person debating them."

EOM: So what is your take on our current politics in Tallahassee?

MH: I am not a Tallahassee expert. I'm an alternating skeptic and an optimist. You hope that your leadership is better than the year before and you see what happens. It's not going to get you anywhere going in thinking its hopeless.

EOM: What's your proudest accomplishment as a county commissioner and environmentalist?

MH: Things I'm proudest of, the Martin County 1982 Comprehensive Plan that says "all wetlands shall be protected". Back then, I had an argument with the environmentalists who wanted to "rate wetlands" as a kind of compromise with developers who would say, "this or that wetland is incredibly stressed, and it's not as valuable as another piece of wetland over there, etc. etc." I said, no. All wetlands are protected. Period. Well we survived an expensive court battle, and no one has tried to undo it: all wetlands in Martin County are protected. No matter how tired or small. In Martin County we require mitigation - water tables have to be restored and buffers are required. We do NOT trade wetlands for mitigation and allow destruction in return for making improvements on what's left. That kind of "mitigation" a recipe for for a continuing net loss of wetlands.

When we did the Comp Plan I learned, never use the word "should". Always use the word, "shall". Always put exemptions in the law. Don't rely on wishy washy words like "in the public interest" because once you start debating with the developers, you will always lose. I believe there has to be a safety net for the environment.

EOM: And Florida's environmental movement; don't the environmentalists provide a safety net?

MH: It's happily mythological that we are organized. Some times we seem all together. We are all those things we approve of being, which makes it very difficult to be on the same team and same side at the same time. On the other side you have the consultants and lobbyists and engineers who are exceedingly well organized and funded by developers and polluters and industry associations. A long time ago, I discovered while talking to consultants something startling: they hate the public. Even the rather, relatively decent and nerdish consultants absolutely hate the public, believe the public is irrational, angry, rude terrible etc and etc. Gosh, I never knew we made that strong an impression. We are all excited and concerned, and the other side sits there smugly with all the time in the world.

EOM: The money always has one purpose: to make more money. Environmentalists aren't so unified.

MH: You always need some people throwing rocks in the movement. If you don't, the opposition will always say, "they didn't hear you". I've watched many meetings where the crowd is boisterous and angry and the chairman says, no applause or we'll have to clear the room. Decorum! ... so then the developers and lobbyists get their hour long presentation. And then the commission will ask for one representative for the environmentalists to speak for all because there are so many in the audience, and they get only three minutes. A year or two years later, the dust will have settled. The mangroves filled or seaside condo built. Something predictably bad will have happened, and then the elected officials will say, "Gee, we didn't hear you." A certain amount of righteous indignation is necessary or you don't get there.

EOM: Often it seems that environmentalists who do gain power and access, mainly do so because they are willing to cut deals and sometimes those deals are bad deals.

MH: Deal making is a tricky business. He who lives by he sword dies by the sword... if you try to do things by incentives, and the minute you have a bad majority, you can be flexibly bad as you can be flexibly good. For example I'm totally convinced New Urbanism is a total failure in Florida. I used to be more polite about it, but New Urbanism turned into a tool for developers to do whatever they want. Planning shouldn't be based on incentives it should be based on law. It's become a mish-mash, a game of meeting minimum standards.

One of the advantages in being old is having a frame of reference. These days so few people get to know people. There isn't time. People are in cars driving all over the state. Conference calls aren't a satisfactory way to build bridges. When you have been at it a long time -- now we have so many people coming in and out -- then at least you know who you can trust. Sometimes you can't trust a person to be honest, but you can trust them to do what they say. You can't do that anymore because there is no time to get to know the other person well enough.

EOM: You know, we've been very impressed with the newspaper coverage of the pollution of the St. Lucie and Indian River Lagoon. We don't have anything like that in Miami other than this blog.

MH: That's an interesting thing. Only this year, Scripps Howard discovered the environment paid. They put their best reporters on the pollution story, and it was a good business move. Eve Samples is honest, bright and interested. There have been times between Ernie Lyon and now, when the Stuart News was most interested in protecting advertisers. The paper endorsed me only once in six times I ran for office, and that was only because they had hired a journalism professor once who actually dug into the issues. Let me tell you about Ernie Lyon. What you had back then in the early 1970s, Ernie Lyon was an editor and not just some cracker writer. The guy was brilliant. He read every book in the library when he was a kid. He walked and fished and hiked every nook and cranny of Martin County and he knew how to make other people love the wilderness without using all the big words and technicalities that turn people away from us.

EOM: And what about Miami?

MH: I guess I didn't keep up with Miami much. I'm down here quite a bit now for family health issues, but I missed part of the 1990's when Janny was in Washington. Miami is not inspiring, but I will tell you that I admired that first Hold The Line Campaign (in Miami-Dade, to protect the Urban Development Boundary in the early 2000's).

EOM: Maggy, thank you so much for this interview. Please give our readers one lasting memory of Miami when you loved the place.

MH: High school slumber parties on the beach at Crandon Park on Key Biscayne. 1955. There was a little narrow gauge railroad that ran around a little zoo. So the lion would be roaring at dawn with giggling girls skinny dipping in the ocean. How's that?

Tuesday, January 06, 2015

The Achiever: Maggy Hurchalla


In the spring of 2014, Gov. Rick Scott's re-election campaign was in trouble. He needed an edge. In April, he reached out to Maggy Hurchalla, our first "Achiever" of 2015.

Scott's opponent, Charlie Crist, had made significant inroads on environmental issues, amplified by popular anger in mostly Republican areas that the Scott administration was siding with polluters. The 2013 flood of destruction of the St. Lucie River and the Indian River Lagoon -- Hurchalla's abiding passion -- was an issue siphoning voter support from the first term governor.

It was unprecedented for Scott to reach out to an environmentalist, a harsh critic of state water policies at that, but the results speak for themselves as Scott prepares to be inaugurated for a second term.

Maggy, an iconic figure in Florida's environmental movement, served four terms as a county commissioner in Martin County. Few know she was born and raised in Miami or the experiences that helped shape a life of advocacy for sensible planning in defense of quality of life and for the state's dwindling natural resources.

As a child, Maggy was one in a group of siblings including a future financial columnist for Newsday, a court bailiff and extraordinary outdoorsman, and the former Dade county attorney then attorney general of the United States, Janet Reno.

With Maggy, there is no mistaking her fierce intelligence, independence of thought and loyalty to place. In 2014, Maggy was inducted into the Everglades Coalition Hall of Fame.

I spoke with Maggy recently at the Reno homestead in Kendall, a relic of natural Florida on four acres tucked away behind a busy, nondescript section of suburban Kendall Drive. The place is a piece of old Florida in the most unlikely place. It makes you squint and blink your eyes in astonishment. Then, you talk with Maggy Hurchalla.

EOM: Maggy, how did you and your family get here?

MH: My grandfather, on my father's side, was from Denmark. His name was Rasmussen. He left his wife and two boys and came over in the early 1900's to work in a tire factory in Ohio. That's when we made things in Ohio. After a year he saved enough to bring everyone over here in 1912. When he got back he changed his name to Reno. Not too long after, he moved the family to Bartow, Florida where he set up a photography studio. In 1920 or 1921, grandfather became a photographer for the Herald.

EOM: How did you get to Kendall?

MH: It wasn't Kendall then. It wasn't much of anything. When they first married my parents had built a house in Coconut Grove, and then when we started coming along and around 1942 they moved to an old 1920's house off Red Road. I was born in 1940. I remember we always had animals roaming around. Turkeys, chickens, ducks, and guinea hens. But then South Miami started booming and my daddy bought 21 acres right here in 1947. If he paid $100 or $200 an acre, that would have been a lot. North Kendall did not go out to Krome, it hit a marsh out there at 117th and it was a pot holed mess.

There was a house on the property. It would be pretentious to call it a ranch house. We called it the little yellow house. Built up on short Dade pine pilings you couldn't drive a nail into. It leaked the cold northwest wind off the Everglades. The ranch manager's wife told us that the house did just fine in the 1926 hurricane, "it lifted up, honey, broken the plumbing, and sat back down." The house weathered the 1947 hurricane except for being surrounded by water. We had gone to my grandmothers. We left a crowd of small animals on the porch - a calf, a turtle, a pig and I forget who else.

My parents in 1949 sold half the property to Gladewinds Farm. The whole area was pine and palmetto. The eastern half of our land was pasture, and it was marvelous for us children. There were cow skulls and rusty equipment and wonderful things to discover. We had ponies and pigs and cows and donkeys.

There were no other children in the neighborhood. Just all my brothers and sisters. Camping in the Everglades was pretty much taking sleeping bags and bicycles and going out into the yard.

We regularly went over to Marco Island and camped on the beach. Nobody minded, right up through the early 1950s ... sand flies and mosquitoes were awful ... we fried mullet for breakfast from the fishermen who threw them out. Then the Colliers decided to declare ownership. We used to cane pole fish along Tamiami Trail. We would go down to Plantation Key and fish for grunts and snapper and snorkel all around the front yard and whatnot. Mark (Reno) joined a boyscout troop run by Norman Benson who introduced us to Florida's blue springs. He had a copy of the old USGS book of first magnitude springs of Florida. The one where it gave directions like, 'you pass pig farm on left and take a left turn at the sand hill and find Ichnetucknee. My mother had a penchant for getting stuck in mud roads. She would take us four kids to Flamingo. The road was all marl, potholed grey and greasy and you got to Flamingo and the only thing there were some docks and net racks. I remember coming back and getting stuck in the marl and getting out and all of us pushing in the dark. In my high school years, my mom became the unpaid public relations person for the Miccosukees for which she probably got an illegal egret headdress. Her favorite Miccosukee story was sitting one night at the Green Corn Dance -- pretty rare to get an invitation if you're not a member of the Tribe -- and a tribal leader at the time, her friend Howard, leaned over to her and said, "When the world gets old you see strange things..."

In the late 40's, a friend of daddy's loaned him a four horse van. He put two bunk beds in it, an ice chest, and my parents brought along a tent for themselves. That was the original camper van. We drove to Marco Island, up the west coast all the way to Pensacola and back to Tallahassee. I remember the road between Florida Supreme Court and the Capitol was all red clay. We drove across to Jacksonville and down to Miami. Took us three weeks.

In 1947, the entire side of the ten acres over there, the entire area was under water. It rained 105 inches in 1947. There was no dike out there to block the Everglades. We loved it as children. For two months most everything here was under water. Baptist Hospital was under water for a long time. (The current Baptist Hospital is about two miles to the east of the Reno homestead.) To get anywhere, you had to go around by Sunset Drive. I was seven then and I remember the water on the golf course at Coral Gables was over my head in places. My grandmother lived about a block from there. Mark got a racoon for his sixth birthday, that my mother had gotten for him. But daddy would acquire things at the Spotlight Bar. It was the Spotlight Bar and the only other thing on Sunset Drive was Mr. Shirley's Sugarcane Farm. The Spotlight was run by Leo and Little Francis. Daddy would go to the bar, and someone would be there saying we got a macaw to get rid of, or the wife doesn't like the donkey, and so daddy would say, "I'll take it", so we always had animals around. Two donkeys, not just one.

EOM: How about US 1?

MH: US 1 was nothing. It was a nice road. When we lived in South Miami, some of my earliest memories were of this time during the war when we had gas rationing. There was one gas station in the whole of South Miami. Daddy took the bus to the Herald and we lived maybe a mile from the bus station. My mother would hitch Tony the Pony up to the cart you could fit four children on and we would ride daddy to the bus stop and with our dog galloping behind us and not another car on the road.

Daddy became the Herald police reporter and was for 35 years. He didn't have a desk there. Just a little desk at the Juvenile Bureau and he went around from police station to police station for stories. There was no phone line out here on Kendall. Finally the Herald put a phone line out here so they could call and give him assignments and tell him what to do. Right here he had a gardenia bush and rose bush. In the mornings, he would pick gardenias and pick roses and then he would call on every police station in town and talk to everyone. That's how he got his stories: donuts, sweet heart roses and gardenias to thank the women who ran the stations.

Across the street from where Dadeland there was a prisoner of war camp, some blond German soldiers ... must have been hell for them in August. We'd pass them regularly on the way to South Miami Elementary.

There was no 112th Avenue on Kendall. We just would have a fire break bulldozed to protect our home. Every five years there would be a roaring fire come down on you. There was no Metro Miami-Dade. No fire department. You were on your own out here. Daddy would take us to where the fire was coming at us. Being the oldest, Janny (Janet Reno) got to light the backfire. The littler ones got to stamp it out from spreading with green palmetto fronds.

In 1954, say, the idea that pine rock land could be rare was just about unimaginable. The pine rock land, that was just something walk through, to fall from your horse onto. Damn that stuff is sharp. When I was in high school there was still some emptiness in the world.

(The second part of the EOM interview with Maggy Hurchalla)