got to assemble property. People are spoiled in South Florida, where there are vacant lots that are buildable all on their own. To build a sizable structure in downtown Washington, you’ve got to buy three, four, or five different properties and deal with difficult property owners in the process. So I set up an appointment to see the Shorecrest and got a copy of the request for a proposal (RFP) on the Royal Palm Hotel project.
When I went to inspect the Shorecrest, I noticed that both the Royal Palm and Shorecrest sites were skinny, so slender that in order to make an efficient property you would have to buy them both. Clearly, I needed to buy the Shorecrest. The area was still run down, but the future was unmistakable for anyone with a little vision.
Still, vision was necessary because the Shorecrest was really run down. It was like a welfare hotel; there were actually chickens running through the lobby. There were prostitutes living in the hotel, and when I went to the roof deck they were there, sunbathing in the nude. It was a mess, but it was on the ocean, and I decided to buy it. I got back into my car and called my wife, Katrina. I was on the speakerphone, looking in the rearview mirror, and I saw a small spot on my forehead. I told Katrina that I must have gotten bitten. But when I touched the spot it jumped. “My god,” I said to Katrina. “I’ve literally been in a fleabag hotel.”
Months later the three developers selected as finalists went before the city commission. We each had a room in the convention center, and we got to have them a couple of hours early to prepare. We decorated ours, putting video screens up and bringing in our sound people so we could play Motown music in the background. We wanted to create the Motown vibe.
The commissioners started coming in, and they seemed to like it. Then Mayor Seymour Gelber came in and he didn’t like it, at all. I remember thinking how, as a man in his late 70s, he was a little out of touch. He sat down and I could tell he was mad at me.
“Turn the music off,” he barked. “Turn it off!”
So we turned it off, and then I got up and made my presentation. I thought it was a great one, even with the mayor furious. After the selection committee had ranked us No. 2 of the three finalists, I’d spent another $200,000 on the effort, not only on a final lobbying and PR campaign, but on constructing a scale model of the buildings in record time. The model was sitting there, sparkling in the spotlights, while we played a video of the project. The video was terrific, with a Motown soundtrack and a computer illustration of what the two buildings would look like together with other yet-to-be-built buildings along either side. It ended with the song “Ain’t No