Miami, my crazy sister

My memoir describes #Miami as my sibling. I feel that way because we essentially grew up together. As I was emerging from my teens and starting to understand what direction I wanted to go in terms of my life and career, Miami, too, was undergoing drastic changes. Unfortunately, 1979, the year I entered the #police academy, my crazy sister found a sudden and irresistible appetite for #cocaine. She spent most of 1980 (my rookie year on the road) with a coke straw up her nose while welcoming the seemingly never-ending tsunami of white powder into every nook and cranny of what had once been a sleepy town. We had violence in that era like never before. One has to only watch #CocaineCowboys to understand just how untethered we became from the rest of the country. Yes, it was a great time to be a cop; there was rarely a dull moment, and by the time I got to #Homicide as an investigator in January of 1985, the onslaught of cocaine trafficking had barely slowed. We were getting a homicide a day, and most of it was--directly or indirectly--drug-related. So as much as I loved my sister/wild brother, we fought and had our differences. I can't argue with the work my sibling provided, and I'm grateful for the profound experiences I had as an investigator, experiences so indelibly powerful that they provided the rich material from which my book emerged. Miami's reputation for drugs has dissipated. Now, she's more into being flashy and materialistic, beautiful, and busy. She's always had a ton of admirers, but now they line up to be close to her different reasons. A few minutes' walk through the streets of #Brickell, #Wynwood, #CoralGables, and Midtown (a new creation that never had a name twenty years ago), is proof that Miami now boasts great places to eat, drink, and luxuriate in great weather. It's hard to keep up with all the live music spots and unique eateries that now pepper the map of south #Florida. Last night my wife and I had dinner with friends at a great restaurant in the Gables. Our table was outside on the sidewalk, right by Miracle Mile. We had a wonderful time and didn't once have to worry about getting caught in the crossfire of a random drug shootout, a legitimate concern forty years ago. Oh sure, we still have a spat every so often; I growl at her traffic and at how crowded and expensive she is, but I'm proud of how she shook off her dubious past and how great she is now.