How wild was this city near Miami? Check out the ‘sin strip’ and the steakhouse mob hit

The islands between Miami and Miami Beach along the 79th Street Causeway might be going through a major transformation soon.

Developers want to build new hotels, condos and restaurants.

For North Bay Village, it would be just another reincarnation.

The city — perhaps best known now for its quiet residential streets, staid apartment buildings, a bayfront bar called Shuckers and the longtime home of WSVN-Channel 7’s studios — has seen several lives through the decades. It’s been a family town, a strip of ‘50s drive-in restaurants, a Mafia hangout, a center of all-night clubs, the home to a 24-hour beauty parlor, back to family town.

Is it ready to add a touch of towering Brickell to the shores of Biscayne Bay?

Let’s take a look at North Bay Village’s wilder side — when the mob, drug dealers, prostitutes and all-night party people plied the “sin strip.”

What was it like? Let’s take a look through the Miami Herald archives.

Murder at the Place for Steak

Published Dec. 15, 1988

By Lizette Alvarez

It was late in the evening, Halloween 1967, a time when pistols smoldered and nice women didn’t.

Thomas “The Enforcer” Altamura stood in the foyer at the Place for Steak restaurant, awaiting his customary table. Minutes later, he was sprawled on the ground, his face to the floor, a bullet in his head.

Anthony “Big Tony” Esperti had done the dirty deed. Something to do with a squabble over village territory.

Shoot-outs, all-night boozing and dancing. Frank Sinatra crooning a song or two at the mike. Jerry Lewis wise-cracking at a table near the back.

No B-movie here. Only snippets of memorable moments at the Place for Steak, the 66-year-old restaurant at 1335 79th St. Causeway, once the turf of mobsters, hookers and out-of-towners looking to swallow a good time whole.

Place for Steak is one of the few survivors of North Bay Village’s raucous era, when restaurants closed at 7 a.m. and the drinking hour began at midnight.

After the mob murder, the place really took off.

“All I know is instead of business falling off, it became more popular,” said Chris Mortensen, Place for Steak dining room manager and a 15-year employee.

Place for Steak owner Peter Schwadel said mobster types still stop in at the restaurant, only not as frequently as before.

“We’re not as busy as it used to be back then,” said Schwadel, who took the place over from Hy Uchitel almost four years ago. “The whole area isn’t as busy as it used to be.”

Schwadel recently filed Chapter 11 proceedings in federal bankruptcy court. He said he’s trying to clear away debts held over from the previous owner. The restaurant is still relatively successful, Schwadel said.

Place for Steak wasn’t the only late-night home for the underworld in 1967.

Earlier that year, a bomb ripped through Happy’s Stork Bar, coming dangerously close to Esperti and his girlfriend. It was one of 10 bombs that exploded in the city that year.

The Penthouse, a popular bay-front restaurant, catered to the rowdy crowd and quickly became a mobster hangout. The Top Draw was another mob haunt. The Bonfire, a former jazz spot, was known as hooker haven. And a ritzy restaurant and lounge was owned by singer Dean Martin. Today, none of these places remains.

“Whenever anyone was in town,” Mortensen said, “they’d come to Place for Steak. People partied until 5 a.m. Times have changed. People just don’t go out.”

Today, Restaurant Row is no longer thriving. With one or two exceptions, restaurateurs say they’re struggling for new life.

Place for Steak survives, said Schwadel, because of loyal customers and its resiliency.

“It has changed with the times,” Mortensen said. The restaurant still features live bands, only with a more contemporary sound.

All night at the Bonfire?

Published Aug. 28, 1983

By Susan Faludi

The Bonfire Restaurant, known in the late 60s as hooker heaven, is trying to shake the reputation and come back as a late-night supper spot.

But reputations die hard. The North Bay Village City Commission decided this week that allowing the new Bonfire to stay open all night might lead to a revival of its unsavory past.

After a 10-year hiatus, the Bonfire reopened last month on the 79th Street Causeway with free drinks and promises to revive North Bay nightlife with jazz and piano playing, dancing, dining and imbibing until 5 a.m.

But North Bay Village commissioners voted 3-2 Wednesday night to deny the new Bonfire the night club license it needs to stay open until 5 a.m. It may only stay open until 2 a.m.

“That place was a known spot for hookers,” Commissioner Doreen Stuart said. “Anyone who wanted a prostitute, the cab drivers would always drop them off there. Policemen could walk in anytime and arrest 10 B-girls.”

The old Bonfire, once a favored watering hole along North Bay’s “Sin Strip,” closed in 1973 after a widely publicized state investigation into a prostitution ring allegedly operating out of the restaurant’s bar.

Charges were eventually dismissed against Sam (Radio) Winer, the Bonfire’s former owner, but only after several self- confessed prostitutes testified - in detail - about how Winer allowed them to pick up men at the Bonfire bar. Winer moved to Bimini, where he died several years ago.

Bonfire manager Danny Gordon said worrying about prostitution at the new Bonfire is absurd. “If we have any problem, it’s that there’s a shortage of women at the bar.”

Indeed, only men sat around the dimly lit bar Thursday night.

“Look around; what you got here is a bunch of senior citizens,” said Bill Sullivan, a visitor from Brooklyn, N.Y. “There are no girls here.”

Cigar-smoking John Eberhard, 75, who used to come to the Bonfire in the old days, agreed -- mournfully. “A prostitute couldn’t make a living out here anymore,” he said.

Circuit Judge Alfred Nesbitt, who was dining there with a group of judges and politicians who meet every Thursday night, declined comment on the prostitute question.

“They have good food and that’s all we are here for,” Nesbitt said. “We aren’t interested in the night club.”

But Lillian Wolf, a member of the judges’ party, recalled the night club circuit with relish.

“Oh my dear, when Radio owned the Bonfire, we used to come here and have a fantastic time,” Wolf said. “Everybody on Miami Beach would wind up at the Bonfire. We would come out and it would be 5 or 6 a.m. and we would say, ‘Oh my God, are we still awake?’ “

The new owner of the Bonfire complains that the commission is discriminating against his establishment.

“Aren’t they being prejudicial to us?” asked owner Richard Schneider. A Place for Steak and Happy’s Stork Lounge have 5 a.m. licenses, so why not the Bonfire? he asked.

Stuart replied: “Well, I would like to see Happy’s closed. And you can quote me on that. It’s a low-class bar.”

Mayor Paul Vogel, who voted to grant the Bonfire a night club license, said the other commissioners were overreacting. “I think the Bonfire is an attractive name that a lot of people remember,” he said.

Robert (Big Daddy) Knapp, who was strolling through the restaurant after a broiled-chicken dinner, agreed with the mayor. “The commission is being very unreasonable. What this city lacks is a nightlife.”

“People that have stayed with us,” Mortensen said, “they remember the good times and it brings them back.”

Happy’s Stork Lounge

Published Aug. 12, 2982

By Patty Shillington

Patrons at Happy Bernhardt’s lounge are mostly working folks now.

Happy isn’t.

Oh, he used to be, but not anymore. Not since the criminals got meaner, times got rougher and he got older.

Few people know the real first name of Happy Goldlust, 72, who has owned Happy’s Stork Bar in North Bay Village for 27 years. (It’s Bernhardt).

“I was a happy kid. I sign my personal checks just ‘Happy.’ My license plate says it. But I’m not really,” he said softly.

The bar - filling a small corner at 1872 79th St. - is one of the few remaining fixtures from the city’s old honky-tonk days.

Happy insists life is much worse now than the days when bombs ripped through the city (including the rear of his bar). Back then, if you were clean, honest and hard working, there was little to worry about. Even criminals had some honor.

But a 1982 hoodlum, Happy said, will split an innocent victim in two with his .45 just for kicks.

“Things have changed,” he said, leaning against his padded bar one summer afternoon. “You were safer in those days than you are now. There was less trouble in those days. You weren’t going to get mugged. The criminals now would just as soon break your head open.”

There are 10 regulars in the bar, chatting with Happy, starting liquor-induced arguments with each other.

“It’s a new generation,” Happy said. “It’s mostly the working crowd. These people who are here today are here every day.”

One of them is Tracy Buxton, 21, who works at a seafood restaurant just over the 79th Street Causeway in Miami and comes to Happy’s after she leaves her job about 11 p.m.

“It’s in the area, and it’s open till 5 a.m.,” she said. “Everyone who works in the area comes here.”

Buxton doesn’t know much about the gangsters that terrorized North Bay when she was a child. There’s a different kind of rowdiness nowadays.

“Somebody sat me on top of the video machine once,” she said. “When you’re afraid of heights, that’s exciting.”

Occasionally there are fights at Happy’s -- but nothing like the violence of the past.

In the fall of 1967, a bomb -- one of more than 10 to rock the city that year -- exploded in the rear of the bar, knocking hoodlum Anthony (Big Tony) Esperti’s girl friend off her bar stool. No one was seriously injured.

“It was just a small bomb meant to frighten

Esperti, ” Happy said. “They weren’t looking to hurt him.”

Happy said he kept his bar clean through the city’s worst times.

“There were no hookers in here,” Happy insists. “They couldn’t make any money in here. If a hooker came in here, it was to have a drink and relax.

“There’s two things in my life I don’t encourage. That’s drugs and hookers. To me drugs are an out. My help didn’t push drugs.”

Happy, who lives in North Bay Village, was shot once in 1971 after a would-be robber ordered him to stay in his car outside the bar. Happy is stubborn; he refused.

“I wouldn’t have gotten back in the car for the 10 toughest guys in the world,” he said. “I said, ‘You’re full of crap,’ and took a swing at him. He didn’t get anything -- all he did was put a bullet in my belly. “

Happy bears no grudges.

“Let’s say that age brings on a little mellowness in a person,” he said. “

The gunman is probably out of jai> by now.

“If he came in I’d probably buy him a drink,” he said. “I think a person can change. I may be wrong. It’s a funny world.”

Happy ran a bar in Ohio before buying this one in 1955. He’s thinking about selling the place.

“When you’re getting to be my age, you’re looking to get out of this,” he said. “There’s stress, but the bar grinds along. All in all, it’s a good place to make a living.”

Hair care

Published Feb. 12, 2006

By Aldo Nahed

Once a month, Tom Docherty comes to Lore’s Hairstyling salon in North Bay Village to get a trim and a snippet of the city’s history.

Docherty has lived in North Bay Village for four years, but what fascinates him is the city’s past, especially the ‘60s and ‘70s, when mobsters and a lively nightlife were the staple of the “Three Islands Paradise.”

“The reason I come here is for information,” Docherty said. “I’m a big fan. Every time I get a cut I get a little more.”

The cut and lesson come courtesy of Lore Bisch, salon owner, hairstylist and unofficial city historian.

Bisch, 64, started as a manicurist at the salon 43 years ago, and is nostalgic about the old days of North Bay Village when local nightclubs attracted the famous and the infamous. Her unisex beauty salon was the place where the elite went to get pampered with a haircut, manicure, pedicure and a shave.

“It was a great village. Everybody knew everybody then,” Bisch said, noting that her customer base ranged from local business owners to Mafia members.

“I had everybody here.”

She took over the shop at 7904 West Dr. from Frank Diaz in 1976, after working for him as a manicurist for 13 years. It used to be called Harbor Tower’s Barbershop.

Now her hairstyling salon, the oldest running business in the city is a sort of landmark of North Bay Village’s heyday. Other than minor renovations, not much has changed, and the walls remain lined with framed and signed pictures of Joe DiMaggio, Hedy Lamar, Burt Reynolds and the Bee Gees - all former customers.

The seats in the waiting area are original Art Deco style. The barber chairs are equipped with ashtrays - a nod to the smoke-anywhere past. Even the cash register hasn’t changed since the shop first opened 43 years ago.

But Bisch, who was born in Germany and lives in North Miami Beach, has made some changes. Last year she hired a Spanish-speaking assistant to help her communicate with newer residents.

A haircut and blow-dry now costs $20. It used to cost $12.50, “and I still get the same $2 dollar tip,” Bisch laments.

Among her most loyal customers is Ed Herder, who has been coming to the shop for 40 years.

“Everything was going up when I first moved here, they were putting up all the two-story buildings, now they are taking them down,” said Herder, who lived in North Bay Village from 1954 to 1962, and now lives in Miami Beach.

Herder said he keeps coming back to Lore’s because she knows his hair and because he likes to reminisce with Bisch about the days when North Bay Village’s bars and clubs were open until sunrise. Then, stars like Dean Martin, who owned a restaurant and bar called Dino’s, and Frank Sinatra spent time in the city.

Together, Bisch and Herder recall parties at nightclubs like the Bonfire, Harbor Lounge, Black Magic Room, Nick and Arthur’s, and Vanity Fair.

There was also an all-night “beauty parlor” called Head Hunter, where hookers and showgirls were the main attraction, said Herder.

Customers with checkered pasts also came to Bisch’s salon, she saysincluding “El Traficante” Santo, Jack “Murph the Surf” Murphy, Charlie “The Blade” Torino. They recount an instance when on Halloween night in 1967, Anthony “Big Tony” Esperti walked into Place for Steak restaurant (now the All You Can Eat Chinese Buffet) and mowed down Thomas “The Enforcer” Altamura.

They were all big tippers, she recalls.

Business is down since those days, and the number of customers who come in on an average day is between 10 to 20, down from 60 a day, she said. Her loyal customers have died off, she says, while others have moved away because they couldn’t afford to pay rent on a fixed income.

“I must have had 500 customers,” Bisch said. “Now, forget it.”

But Bisch remains hopeful that business will pick up soon. Her salon, nestled between a convenience store and a travel agency, is located across from many future developments, including the 360 Condominium, which will bring three buildings and a total of 414 units to the city.

“Everyone tells me that business will return to North Bay Village,” Bisch said. “I hope they are right.”

The many incarnations of North Bay Village

Published April 27, 1995

By Rafael Lorente

When Thelma Worsey moved to North Bay Village in 1952, North Bay Island had no more than a dozen homes. Worsey could walk across empty lots to City Hall on Center Bay Drive.

But since those early days, the city has changed from a sleepy hamlet to a mobster-infested playground to a home for retirees.

Today, North Bay Village is a four-island community of more than 370 homes, large and small apartment buildings and businesses of every kind. Young professionals with children have moved in to replace snowbirds and retirees over the past 15 years, changing the look and needs of the community of 5,500 residents.

“There were only nine or 10 houses when we came here,” Worsey said. She and her late husband Ralph and her son Howard have all sold real estate, especially homes on North Bay Island.

From her living room window on Miami View Drive she points across the street and says: “I’ve sold people that home, that home, that home and that one.”

Before 1940, only Broadcast Key (also known as Cameo Island) existed in what is now North Bay Village. Radio station WIOD (610 AM) started broadcasting from there in 1926.

North Bay Island was dredged up from Biscayne Bay in 1940. Harbor Island and Treasure Island followed. The city was incorporated in 1945, and the community next week will be celebrating its 50th anniversary with a parade, crafts, music and more.

Treasure Island’s street names, which include Adventure and Buccaneer avenues, were taken from Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel, Treasure Island. Broadcast Key, now home to television station WSVN-Channel 7 and several radio stations, was annexed in 1963.

In the 1960s, North Bay Village became a place for the famous and infamous. Bars and clubs were open until sunrise and people like Dean Martin - who owned a restaurant and bar - and Frank Sinatra spent time there.

On Halloween night in 1967, Anthony “Big Tony” Esperti walked in to the old Place for Steak restaurant (now being turned into a Nicaraguan steak house) at 1335 79th St., and mowed down Thomas “The Enforcer” Altamura.

Worsey remembers those days, but she says the mob wasn’t a problem.

“They never bothered anybody,” she said. “The only time I heard of anything was when they had a shootout down the street.”

Worsey’s neighbors have changed a lot over the years. Sinatra no longer stays nearby. And shootouts are no more common than in the rest of South Florida.

Many of Worsey’s neighbors on North Bay Island and Treasure Island are young professionals with children.

The number of residents 18 and younger soared 69 percent from 1980 (463) to 1990 (781), according to the 1990 Census. At the same time, the number of residents 65 and older dropped 39 percent, from 1,746 in 1980 to 1,063 to 1990.

Principal Beverly Karrenbauer of Treasure Island Elementary School has seen the population change. When she became principal of the school in 1980, she had one kindergarten class. Today, she has six kindergarten classes and her school has undergone an expansion of 16 classrooms over the last few years. Eleven portable classrooms sit outside the main building.

While much of the enrollment growth has come from neighboring Normandy Isle and other neighborhoods in Miami Beach, much has come from North Bay Village.

Mauro Aronovski is one of those who feels comfortable having kids in the community. His son and daughter attend the Hebrew Academy in Miami Beach, but the family worships nearby at the Kolel Harambam Orthodox Congregation’s building at 7800 Hispanola Ave.

The congregation bought the building last year when members of Temple Beth-El could no longer afford to keep it because of a dwindling congregation.

Aronovski, 37, and his family lived in an apartment building on Treasure Island for six years before buying a house.

“I love it because it’s quiet, crime is not bad,” he said. “For the kids, it’s good.”

Mayor Paul Vogel, who has lived in North Bay Village since 1969, said he’d like the city to stay a good place for kids. He also wants to see more businesses on the 79th Street Causeway but without hurting the city’s quality of life and small-town feel.

“I don’t want to increase the population,” he said. “I wouldn’t want it to go over 6,000.”

Urban island 1.0

Published July 13, 2003

By Bella Kelly

The city of North Bay Village, which shook a notorious reputation as a haven for hookers, hoodlums and mayhem to become a tranquil enclave of family living and strict law enforcement, is about to be reborn again, as an urban island city.

Developers have discovered that the tiny Village - three man-made islands scooped out of Biscayne Bay in the 1940s - is a sleeping beauty with affordable land and surrounded on all sides by spectacular water views that make it a natural location for condominium living with an urban flair.

Less than two miles long and linked to Miami and Miami Beach by the Kennedy Causeway just east of Biscayne Boulevard at 79th Street, the Village is suddenly brimming with cranes, tractors, surveyors and construction crews readying sites for sleek new multistory dwellings.

At latest count, the city clerk’s records show nine new condominium developments ready to start, plus two conversions of apartment buildings into condos. More projects are in the wings.

Augmenting that are plans for banks, boutiques, cafes and coffee houses plus new, lush landscaping and signs at the Village’s entrances.

The new construction will bring thousands of new residents to the Village, which at last census reported a population of just over 6,700. One project alone, the 360 condo being built by Lennar Developers, will have more than 400 condominium apartments.

Mayor Alan Dorne, City Manager James Vardalis and Police Chief Irving Heller say there’s no question the influx of development will bring change. But, they add, the city has the services to support the population increase and the developments will bring a new dimension to the economy and lifestyle of a city for which revitalization is overdue.

“We have put out the red carpet for positive, good development,” Dorne says, pointing out that the waterfront location of the Village, plus the fact that it has one of the lowest per capita crime rates in Miami-Dade County, make it an attractive choice as a place to live.

Heller, a former assistant director of the Miami-Dade police department who took over as the Village’s chief two years ago, says police presence has been stepped up in recent years.

“We know who all our residents are,” Heller says. “We have bicycle patrols, marine patrol, emergency numbers for businesses to call. We work with the Internal Revenue Service and with immigration. Our tentacles are everywhere.”

As an incentive for builders and to make sure the Village retains its island atmosphere, the city instituted a “bonus” plan by which developers can increase the height of projects in exchange for more green space.

“We will be watching carefully to make sure how things proceed,” Dorne says, “and so we know when it reaches a critical point.”

Up until now, the three small islands have had a low-density profile, each with its own distinctive character. On Treasure Island, whose street names were drawn from the Robert Louis Stevenson novel, there is a mixture of middle-class single-family dwellings on the west end, low rise multifamily dwellings on the east end, a school and a small stretch of mom-and-pop type stores.

Harbor Island is composed mostly of low-rise apartment buildings, the city hall, a gas station, two restaurants and several marinas.

The remaining North Bay Island is a lushly landscaped gated community with lavish waterfront homes whose prices are in the millions.

Tying it all together is a strip of causeway that spans the bay from Miami to Miami Beach. Lined with motels, restaurants, a few stores and television station WSVN-Fox 7’s headquarters, the strip is traveled by 40,000 cars daily.

Surrounding the Village on all sides are unobstructed, panoramic views of the sparkling waters of Biscayne Bay and the skylines of Miami and Miami Beach.

Developers say the Village’s potential has been long overlooked and that it is ripe to undergo the same renaissance that made South Beach one of the hottest addresses in the country.

“Developers are recognizing this is a prominent and dramatic location,” says Anthony Seijas, president of the Miami-Dade division of Lennar. Seijas said the 360 is the first bayfront project for the company and is considered a premier development by Lennar.

Reflecting Seijas’ view is architect Chad Oppenheim, who has designed three of the new condominium buildings to be built in the Village and has already won awards for two of them from the Miami Chapter of the American Institute of Architects.

“This is a unique location,” Oppenheim says. “It is a quaint little island village with water views in all directions. We’ve tried to capitalize on that by creating buildings that are architecturally significant and have a flexible, open-living environment with a tropical, urban feel.”

The emergence of North Bay Village as a hot spot has a different connotation from its description as a hot spot in the 1960s, ‘70s and early ‘80s.

Crime and corruption were so rampant that a Village councilman declared he felt as if he were living in the Amityville horror films. A candidate for state attorney in 1968 said he couldn’t find a place to hold his kickoff rally that wasn’t connected to a crime syndicate.

The Village was a happy hunting ground for prostitutes, who openly plied their trade at nightclubs that were open until 7 a.m. In the 1950s, the police chief complained that one of the Village councilmen was a procurer.

The 79th Street Causeway strip, as it was known then, was a gaudy collection of drive-ins, motels, bars and strip joints where bartenders warned patrons when undercover agents entered the premises.

In 1967, there was a gangland-type slaying outside a popular restaurant, The Place for Steak, when Tommy “The Enforcer” Altamura, a big man in the local Cosa Nostra hierarchy, was shot twice in the head.

Actress Eva Gabor was slugged and robbed of $25,000 in diamonds while staying in the Village in 1964, and tobacco heir Richard “Josh” Reynolds III and his wife were victims of a $100,000 jewel robbery at their apartment when their Doberman pinscher was at the vet for a tonsillectomy.

Zorita, a snake dancer at a strip club, had an orchid-colored mini-mansion on North Bay Island and drove around in a Rolls-Royce. Neighbors complained she was a “village vampire” who “skinny dimpled” in her swimming pool.

The Miami Herald editorialized in 1968 that “the strip has fielded more prostitutes per foot than any series of dives east of Las Vegas. It is easy to get shot there and easier still to get robbed.”

Things got so sordid, grand juries, some city officials and newspapers called for federal investigations, claiming the Village had become nationally known as “sin city” and was infested with prostitutes and gangland activity.

By the mid-1980s, new leadership emerged, the city cleaned up its act, the clubs closed, the thugs and prostitutes disappeared from the strip and the Village settled down into a residential community populated by families, retirees and blue-collar workers.

Since then, the Village has maintained a low-key image except for spasmodic eruptions among warring political factions and some controversies in the police department.

A big drawing card in the past was the Harbor Island Spa, a huge, U-shaped building that attracted thousands of seasonal residents as well as year-round locals. When the spa was shuttered after suffering major damage from Hurricane Andrew in 1992, the Village took a downturn. The snowbirds stopped coming, many of the locals moved away, businesses closed, buildings took on a look of disrepair, and “For Rent” signs began appearing on many of the aging low-rise apartment houses.

City officials hope the spurt of developments will give the Village new life. Developers are targeting young professionals and empty nesters, cosmopolitan residents whom the city expects will bring new vitality to the Village and, in turn, attract businesses, encourage existing residents to improve their property and ultimately increase city revenues.

Streets that now are sparse of human and motor traffic might be hard to recognize, given the amount of new residents who will be moving in to occupy the new condos.

But city officials are optimistic and foresee no unsolvable problems.

Echoing the view of Seijas and Oppenheim is developer Scott Greenwald, who will demolish a small strip shopping center on Kennedy Causeway and replace it with a 19-story tower of 164 condo units atop 20,000 square feet of retail space.

“North Bay Village is a new horizon for development,” Greenwald says. “Once people discover its qualities, I believe it will be an attractive alternative and stronger market than some of the other developing areas. It is a safe environment with outstanding police work, unbelievable water views and is minutes to Biscayne Boulevard or the Beach. If a company such as Lennar made such a commitment, that is another positive signal.”