The Rise and Decline of the Redneck Riviera: An Insider's History of the Florida-Alabama Coast

3. Bring ’em Down, Keep ’em Happy, and Keep ’em Spending

46 hings were looking bright all along the northern Gulf Coast as the 1940s came to an end, and at no place did prospects seem brighter than at Fort Walton, where the local chamber of commerce predicted that the last summer of the decade would be the “biggest summer season in history.” Driving this optimism was the popularity of the towns gambling dens, for no small number of the visitors who came to Fort Walton spent their time and money at the Shalimar Club and the “swank” Magnolia, or simply played the slot machines that seemed to be in almost every store and shop. Although gambling was illegal, those involved seemed to have little to fear from local law enforcement. It was not clear if Okaloosa County sheriff Isle Enzor was on the take, was simply incompetent , or had more important crimes on his “to stop” list, but even though there were also slot machines inland, even within sight of the county courthouse, apparently the sheriff did not intend to do anything about them. Not that it mattered much to most residents. One man recalled his wife getting upset when he came home with seventeen dollars he had won—she called it “dirty money”—but little was said publicly until 1949 when the Tampa Tribune ran a story that not only “exposed” the gambling industry in Fort Walton, but also told of how “authorities let high-rollers and penny-ante players have their fun despite the law.” County seat businessmen who had ignored the slot machines in their three Bring ’em Down, Keep ’em Happy, and Keep ’em Spending T bring ’e down, keep ’e happy 47 own town expressed surprise and outrage at what was going on down along the decadent coast and joined the Florida Better Government League in its campaign to end gambling statewide. In retaliation, businessmen in Fort Walton proposed forming their own county, free from meddling uplanders —not the last time coastal interests would talk of such a separation. Then Florida governor Fuller Warren got involved. In 1950, in a move some claimed was calculated to divert attention from gambling in Miami and Tampa, Warren suspended Sheriff Enzor and two constables for failing to enforce the law. With that the clean up began. Two years later the popular Enzor was re-elected, but by then gambling was on its way out. The Tribune article had put the community in a bad light and city fathers worried that tourists would take their business elsewhere. Back on the job and converted to the cause, Sheriff Enzor began cracking down, and soon even the Shalimar Club was turning to more “legitimate” forms of entertainment. But without gambling, it was just another nightspot. The Shalimar closed for good in 1956. However, by then Fort Walton had something it had not had before, something that in the future would be an even bigger attraction than gambling . Fort Walton had a beach. In 1953, the Florida legislature authorized Okaloosa County to lease for recreation and development a three-mile stretch of Okaloosa Island, across the sound from Fort Walton and linked to it by U.S. 98. With that Fort Walton became Fort Walton Beach. By the middle of the decade Okaloosa Island was home of the Tower Beach Casino, which advertised “All Around Family Entertainment on the World’s Most Beautiful Beaches.” Visitors could swim in the Gulf, drink in the lounge, eat at the snack bar, and buy things at the shops. They could also play in the amusement arcade and dance on the patio. With Pensacola on the west, Panama City on the east, and Okaloosa Island in the middle, U.S. 98 was becoming known as the Miracle Strip. Now we must keep all this in perspective. Despite the publicity generated by chambers of commerce, civic clubs, and resort operators, in the 1940s and 1950s the coast from Mobile Bay to Panama City was just emerging as a tourist attraction. Although visitor records were set and broken year after year, the increases were marginal. Though new amusements appeared with seasonal regularity, like the people who enjoyed them, they were concentrated in resort areas—developments west of Panama City, on Okaloosa Island, across the bay from Pensacola, and in Alabama at Gulf Shores. Aside 48 chapter three from a sprinkling of little communities—Orange Beach, Destin, Grayton— the rest of the coast was almost inaccessible and...