At Your Service

The Boca Raton Club played an important role in our war years.

By Susan Gillis

The Boca Raton may be best known as a luxury resort and private club over its long history—but there was a time when luxury took a backseat to service, and that time was during World War II. It was then that the storied hotel signed up to help the Army in tiny Boca Raton, Florida, for as long as it was needed.

It was in March of 1942 that the Army Air Force Technical Training Command decided to move its newly established radar training school from its temporary quarters at Morrison Field in West Palm Beach to nearby Boca Raton. The government began acquiring 5,820 acres in Boca, then a small farm town with a population of roughly 750 people.

Boca Raton was chosen for several reasons, including its relatively “high ground” and the fact that it boasted a small airport and two railroad lines that could bring in men and material. The new Boca Raton Army Air Field stretched from Palmetto Park Road on the south to north of Yamato, and from the F.E.C. Railroad tracks on the east to the Seaboard (now Amtrak) tracks on the west. While the base was under construction, however, the military needed a temporary home, and therefore leased the exclusive Boca Raton Club, now The Boca Raton, for housing and operations between 1942 and 1944.

The Boca Raton Club opened in 1926 as the Cloister Inn, architect Addison Mizner’s acclaimed hotel on the western shores of Lake Boca Raton. After two years, the hotel was acquired by Clarence Geist, who tripled the size of the hotel with additions by the New York firm Schultze and Weaver, designers of the Breakers and the Biltmore. The Boca Raton Club was one of the most exclusive and private destinations in America at the time. Even during the Depression, the wealthy could visit what was billed as “Florida’s Secret Paradise” in off-the-beaten-path little Boca Raton, assured of their privacy from paparazzi and prying eyes. The resort boasted two golf courses on either side of Camino Real, tennis courts, a Moorish-style swimming pool, ornate public rooms and elegant suites. The hotel’s beach access was down the road on A1A south of the inlet at the “Cabana Club.” In preparation for the military, staff members packed up the antique furnishings, rolled up the carpets, and padded the decorative columns.

A Tampa Tribune article from May 15, 1942, was headlined “Army to Lease Swanky Resort on East Coast.” Alvin Thiele sent a postcard from the Club to his parents in South Fallsburg, New York, in May of 1943. He wrote: “Pictures don’t lie so here is just what the club looks like. Only add in a million beautiful colors and mild weather and there you have it. There are much larger grounds etc. around here, too. Keep this as a memory of my stay here in Boca Raton.” Apparently they did, because in 1986 Alvin donated the postcard to the Boca Raton Historical Society.

On the other hand, by the summer of’43 conditions had gotten a bit less glamorous. Cadet Wilbur Bell recalled helping remove the rugs and cleaning the cement floors until they shined. Manny Chavez noticed the lack of furnishings as well, except for the old painted headboards from the Mizner era. Eventually the Toomey and Flynn-designed golf course south of Camino Real became riddled with foxholes and tents where new recruits spent their first few weeks. The beautiful Garden Pool, a Schultze and Weaver design at the south end of the property, was used for recreation but also waterborne landing training. The Valencia Room was used for training films as well as Hollywood movies. There were as many as 2,000 cadets stationed there at a time—eight bunk beds in every room.

Louis Mikunda remembered that after PT (physical training) at 3:30 in the humid afternoon heat of Boca Raton, there was no water pressure above the second floor—because everyone turned on the taps at the same time—so the guys filled the tubs with water before PT and took turns with bathwater after PT. They decided their turns by lottery, and the loser also had to clean the bathroom for possible inspection after dinner. A temporary stockade (basically tents) stood at the rear of the hotel. Gerald Weiss served stockade duty and recalled being attacked by flying critters while he stood in a guard tower. He learned the locals called these “palmetto bugs.”

The cadets came to attend officers’ candidate school, and to learn the basics of the new top- secret technology of radar. Their days were full of classes—sometimes under the palm trees— survivalist training, and PT. Local kids Peter Barrett and Buddy Lamont observed the soldiers on the golf courses standing at attention; many fainted in the Florida heat and humidity. When they returned to their quarters they made sure to “salute the lady”—the iconic statue by sculptor Ettore Pellagata at the center of the courtyard fountain—before going inside.

Among the cadets in 1943 were roughly 28 young African-Americans who would later become part of the famed Tuskegee Airmen. It was the days of segregation in a basically southern town; the hotel had never hosted any persons of color as guests; the Black soldiers were bunked together.

By 1944, BRAAF no longer needed the Club, and the lease expired. The new owner, hotelier J. Myer Schine, took over the hotel and actually welcomed guests in January of 1945. It also continued to serve as an upscale officer’s club hosting parties for the military brass.

Most importantly, the Club served as a hurricane shelter for soldiers and townies during the storms of 1944, 1945 and 1947. The latter year was a particularly wet one in South Florida, which at the time was largely agricultural. On September 7, Hurricane George came ashore at Fort Lauderdale as a Category 4, one of the worst hurricanes in the state’s history. The storm knocked over the wooden structures of the Boca Raton Army Air Field like dominoes. Hundreds of civilians and soldiers huddled together at the hotel, and the military provided food and other supplies.

Three weeks later Hurricane King dumped even more rain in the region. The result was inland flooding—as much as 15 inches—from Hialeah to Palm Beach County. The Boca Raton Club survived, but the beachfront Cabana Club was demolished, and had to be rebuilt. The two storms helped hurry the closure of the airbase, and most personnel and operations were removed to Biloxi, Mississippi. Captain Jim Vaughter was one of the officers in charge of shutting down the base.

The balance of the officer’s club funds was scheduled to be sent to Washington to go into the general funds—but the guys had other ideas. Instead, they decided to blow it all on a killer bash at the hotel, where they were served “flaming food” and there was a waiter for each couple! They danced the night away, and the party didn’t end until 2 a.m. Sunday.

The runways of the base became the Boca Raton Auxiliary Air Force Base until 1959, and eventually Florida Atlantic University. The Boca Raton Club morphed into the Boca Raton Hotel and Club (now known as The Boca Raton), no longer a military haven but once again an exclusive destination for the rich and famous. The men who were stationed there never forgot their time in Florida and their brush with Mizner’s secret paradise.