The Chickee And The Empty Suits: A Story About Development

Once upon a time there was a place called Chickee On The Beach. People came from near far to linger there. But that was a long time ago. The Chickee is no more.
2
The Chickee was a down-to-earth eatery couched amid fancy condos to the North, the ocean to the South and surrounded by trees with big leaves, which made the Chickee a cool, shady cove on white sand. It was located in financially well-heeled Naples, Florida. But the people who lived around the Chickee were friendly retirees and welcomed one and all for chitchats around the bar or the next table over.

Once upon a time coming to The Chickee was a tradition. Floridians would bring family here. Children would build castles with the help of mommy and daddy and go rest in the shade at The Chickee and have their favorite soda. And often these families would bring family visitors from out of town to The Chickee; so that you could easily see a family eating lunch that covered two or more generations.

Retired and transplanted Floridians would walk the white sands to get in their exercise then take a break and have a couple of cold ones under shady trees there.

Some tourists from countries far away made it a tradition to come to The Chickee each year: They came from colder countries like Germany and Switzerland and eastern block countries. They would come in January, staying for a week or so next door at The Vanderbilt Hotel. They would eat breakfast there and, in the early afternoon, walk just a few feet to The Chickee to dine and drink and make merry by the ocean, talking loudly and singing patriotic songs and familiar songs in the language of their country, waving glasses of beer in unison as they did so.
3
Like the others, the daddy would take long walks by the ocean and rest at The Chickee, chomping down a grouper sandwich and gulping down a cold one. Now, the daddy has a crazy habit of writing in small cafes and on counter stools in bars. So the daddy met many of the tourists from the cold countries, the ones who sang songs at the bar in their native tongue. And here's what would happen:

After the group finished their songs with the glass-waving ritual, they would order another round for everyone at the bar, and the daddy would thank them. Then, before he knew it, they would be singing again and the daddy would be back at his writing. Before it was over, the daddy would have 3 0r 4 beers by his notepad. Sometimes, when he would get up to leave, these happy strangers would hug him for seemingly no reason and, according to the bartender, collect the 3 or 4 beers that were in my area after he was gone.

A good time was had by all. But that was before the empty suits came.

4
The empty suits came and saw that The Chickee was doing a brisk business and was respected in Naples. But it saw something else: that The Chickee was sitting in a prime location for a building of-- guess what? condos.

The empty suits reasoned that, by tearing down The Chickee and The Vanderbilt Hotel, they could erect a huge building with large units of condos. They thought, "Who wouldn't want to buy a condo on the ocean in rich Naples, Florida?" So the empty suits bought the property, and they tore down The Vanderbilt and The Chickee. The daddy was there when The Chickee closed and sent the story to a local newspaper (The Naples Daily News). And the daddy wrote a poem about the closing.
5
The daddy came back to the site of The Chickee a few days ago. He saw a huge, shiny building with condos that went up at least eight floors. He saw workers busying themselves at the front entrance, leveling the ground to get it ready to lay grass over it. But, as poetic justice would have it, the economy turned sour and Floridians were no longer buying condos at 3 to 4 millions a unit, even if it was by the ocean.

The empty suits asked, "Who wouldn't buy a condo on the beach in rich Naples, Florida?"

The answer? "Anyone negatively affected by a big downturn in the economy, which was just about everyone."

So the daddy saw condos in a prime location sitting empty, like the displeased empty suits that erected them.
6
The daddy stood on the site of what was The Chickee, a prosperous business that facilitated positive, engaging experiences and loving memories for so many for so long, a place whose memories evoke white sand, cool beers, warm conversation among family and friends, new and old.

He stood silent for a few minutes...Then he heard a distant wind come closer. It seemed to circle the condos before hovering in the sky just above the place where the Chickee's bench tables and bar used to be.

He closed his eyes; and, for a few seconds, he could hear the families talking at bench tables, groups of women laughing loudly and singing gregariously at the bar in their native tongue. He could smell that unique mixture of people, grouper sandwiches and Miller Lite Beer. Then the sounds ceased, the smell went away with the wind hovering just above the bench tables and the bar. The wind left as quickly as it came.
7
Once upon a time there was a place called Chickee On The Beach. People came from near and far to linger there. But that was a long time ago. The Chickee is no more.