Miami, in the less than salubrious vicinity of the airport ostensibly for a little bit of business followed by a bittersweet weekend of unbridled revelry at the Sonesta Beach Resort Key Biscayne. The Sonesta is/was an institution on The Key for the past thirty seven years, for the “Key Rats,” for those from Miami-Dade wishing an escape to the beach on a steamy day in town or a moonlight evening of tropical breezes, and for the thousands from up and down the eastern seaboard, visiting as tourists, convention attendees or as wedding parties. This was not just a hotel, this was home away from home to many, the local watering hole for others, a playground for their offspring and a treasured occupation for so many employees. Although I discovered it and used it myself as a stop over between Quito, Ecuador and Portland, Oregon on many occasions its real claim on me is as the place my wife and I were first introduced. The Sonesta Beach Resort Key Biscayne, as of this writing is no more.
Progress comes to this spot on the beach, where from the terrace above and beneath the lattice work and tropical blooms of “Geno’s Bar” one can gaze through the palm fronds, across the turquoise flats of eel grass towards the inky blue waters of the gulfstream. The Sonesta will be gutted, knocked down and carted away. In its place will rise a “condo hotel”. A different structure, a different atmosphere and seeking a different client. The Sonesta was a hotel that reminded me of the Miami Vice era of my late youth in its decor and color schemes and at least to public eye it never appeared to get tired. Large cool spaces, an exciting, edgy mystique, colors abounding as if one were gazing upon a tropical reef. A world away from the pretentious, overstuffed and clubby “ultra luxury” hotels currently in favor. While the Sonesta was never inexpensive it was also never ludicrous.
The beating heart of the Sonesta for many was the outdoor bar run by Geno Marron. While all the staff were wonderful it was Geno that was given run to be the goodwill ambassador of the place and there are legions from around the world and within the USA that will attest to this and claim relationship on a first name basis. They will remember the vibrant feel he brought to the place with his pace of work, the casual manner with which he took orders, remembered them and somehow got the right tab to the right person… sometimes hours later.
His rapid fire opening and emptying cans of pineapple juice into a five gallon pail. His lining up a myriad glasses when the crowd and mood were to his satisfaction, the pouring of two score rum drinks at a time, his lunge for the stereo control knob followed by his hoarse shouted instructions. Then the patrons, many of them needing little instruction creating the chorus for his favorite renditions of timeless songs. How many thousands of happy patrons have joined in a lung busting, raucous chorus of ‘Oh No Guadalajara’ and ‘Lola’? How many thousand pairs of hands have slapped down on the bar in unison to his beat on the stainless cold cabinets? How much delighted laughter with his shadow boxing to Bruce Springsteen, the handstands and layups, the bended knee plea to a pretty woman? Unimaginable.
Fans of both the Sonesta and of Geno came in from far and wide this weekend; staying at the hotel in favorite and meaningful rooms, they brought friends and children to witness the putting to sleep of something meaningful in their lives. No one was immune to the memories evoked by that last “World Famous Pina Colada.” The Sonesta was a touchstone for many of us. There were countless stories of childhoods spent there, of romances, meetings, boisterousness to the strains of Jimmy Buffet songs sung by others. If ever there was a feel good place then this was it.
An almost perfect blending of cultures in staff and visitor alike, a not over-imposing edifice in the architecture, it being clean and functional, places and spaces that could handle tuxes and bermudas alike. Running water, rustling palm fronds. Valets hustling to park a rolling parade of everything from Aston to Vespa. The Sonesta and its staff created and captured the very essence of an island lifestyle. I saw so many of them embracing one another this weekend, emotions brimming over. It is the end of an era on the Key as nothing currently exists and nothing proposed comes remotely close to replacing it. While its passing in all fairness to those who actually own the place and have other plans can’t be viewed as tragic in the true sense of the word, it remains a sorrow to never again return to someplace seemingly so in touch with its surrounds, community and staff. The sand in the hour glass that was the Sonesta has finally run through. Thank you Geno, thank you everyone for those good times and their memories.
I am so sad to hear the Sonesta is no more. I had heard it was closed, I had thought for renovations, and was looking to see if it had re-opened for a trip we wanted to take in the spring. I kept going to its website and only found something saying the hotel was closed. It took searching to find out why and that is how I found your article. That was back in 2006, so I guess it has been gone a while now. Something may be in its place, but after staying there about 10 years ago and loving it, I won’t be staying in its reincarnation. Thanks for your piece on the place and its history. We learned alot about the history of the area from a waitress in a restaurant in the hotel one day, and from a women working in one of the shops. We also enoyed conversation from a woman from New York who had been coming there for years every winter. Unique place. I will miss it.
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Hazel
I am sorry to hear your story. Places like that never seem to last,but I know what oyu mean. My hubby and I have a house in the carribean. When we built it,the island was undiscovered. Still had the small island feel. They just recently dredged the harbor for cruise ships and guess what. No more undiscovered island anymore. Cherish the memories because that is all we take with us in the end.
Go for it