Early evening Monday Ivor Rose discusses the demolition of the back portion of the Avery Smith House with William Cary, Miami Beach’s historic preservation coordinator. Photo by Jacqueline Carini/ jacqueline.nexsoftware.com

Michael Stern motioned to construction workers in the cab of the bulldozer now readied for him. In the blistering afternoon sun he leaned over, pouring bottled water over his head and then looked up to motion some more. Stern’s voice was muted by the roar of the great machine, one of two instruments of demolition, but his hand moved in a swift up and down motion, signifying some kind of destruction to be done.

Moments later, the bulldozer would charge around the corner of the tiny Coral Rock House, into its back yard, poised to begin tearing it limb from limb. Stern himself would operate the bulldozer, ramming the rear of the property repeatedly and creating a gaping hole. Ivor Rose, who co-owns the property with Stern, pulled up on a scooter. “Knock it down,” he muttered. “Knock the whole fucking thing down.”

Stern backed the bulldozer out onto the street and dumped a load of coral rocks into a steel bin, then pulled up in front of Rose and opened the cockpit hatch.

“Sorry, uncle, but you know what? He made me do this,” Stern, a candidate for Seat 6 on the Miami Beach City Commission, told Rose. “I negotiated for years and years with the city officials … to the tune of spending millions of dollars a year.”

Rose, a candidate for the commission’s Seat 5, replied with a bitter smirk: “Knock it down; I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re the boss.”

And with that Stern went back to work demolishing the house. A small crowd of people would assemble to take photographs. Among them were preservationists who fought to keep the decades-old house standing and officials from the city’s Planning Department. Like the passersby, they could only watch the carnage that was to befall the embattled structure.

Such was the scene this past Monday afternoon at 900 Collins Ave., Miami Beach. By 6 p.m. that day, more than half the building, often dubbed the Coral Rock House, was ripped apart, while the front façade remained untouched. As of deadline, no further demo work had been done to the house, but Rose said he was willing to demolish everything on his property “out of spite,” including the World War I-era façade.

Much of the Coral Rock House was built in 1916 by Miami Beach pioneer Avery Smith, and was purchased by Michael Stern and Ivor Rose in 2004. It has survived dozens of severe hurricanes, but local politics and economics may prove too much for it. Three years ago the house was condemned as unsafe by the Building Department, allowing Stern and Rose to circumvent the preservation requirements of the Art Deco Historic District and obtain a demolition permit. Then, following an outcry from preservationists, the Miami Beach City Commission appealed its own Building Department’s decision to the county’s Unsafe Structures Board. The back and forth continued until Rose and Stern finally received a demolition permit.

Then, on June 12, the Coral Rock House owners tweaked a deal made previously with Miami Beach’s Historic Preservation Board. Rose and Stern would be allowed to demolish a rear west addition of the Coral Rock House, constructed in 1924, as well as build a four-story apartment complex, including a ground floor of commercial retail space. In exchange, Stern and Rose would make their best effort to restore the 1916 front of the property. If they can’t, they would have to replicate the property.

“The basis for allowing the demolition of the west building was to allow for economic viability for the project,” historic preservation coordinator William Cary said.

Two weeks later, on June 29, neighboring Sherbrooke Hotel owner Mitch Novick, a former member of the HPB (and the man Stern blamed for commencing demolition) filed an appeal of the current HPB’s decision. Then Novick and his legal counsel offered Stern and Rose a deal: The appeal would be withdrawn if the owners post a bond as financial security that the house would be restored.

In reaction, Stern called Novick and declared that if Novick did not withdraw his appeal, Stern would demolish the house. Novick refused. And Stern started up the bulldozers Monday, July 9. By the early evening Cary and Planning Department Director Jorge Gomez stood before the little house with incredulous looks on their faces. They snapped pictures of two bulldozers carrying out mounds of coral rock for the HPB meeting that was scheduled the next day.

When alerted to the events, Paul George, a noted Miami-Dade historian and Miami-Dade Preservation Board member, weighed in via e-mail that he was “saddened.”

“Although not surprised,” George said. “I always loved talking about [the Coral Rock House] on my Art Deco tours. We have precious little left. It’s disheartening, especially after seeing what has been preserved in other, older communities.”

It is a sentiment echoed by many at the scene.

“You don’t see many people out here applauding [his knocking it down]…. A nearby neighbor told me he was really disgusted,” said Bill Farkas, executive director of the Miami Design Preservation League. Farkas told the SunPost there was no plan of picketing or folks chaining themselves to the house. “Those days are over,” he said, adding that now the weapons used are administrative appeals.

MDPL Director Scott Timm took photos to alert MDPL membership around the world. “I don’t really want to see it go down. It’s sort of gruesome. I think people had gotten a feeling that this is where it was going to come to.”

Passersby added their two cents: “That’s going to be crazy when they knock down that bitch,” remarked one observer.

“Wow. Sad,” another onlooker said.

Rose chatted up city officials and reporters. He had bought the property for its value as a corner lot, he told the SunPost, and even had hot dog franchise people approach him about renting the front of the house, a plan that failed due to the restaurant’s lack of funding, he said.

Claudia Herman, whose business was formerly located next door to the house and is now on Lincoln Road, said she has been feeding cats and a homeless man who had found shelter near the house for the past few years. She visits daily, she said, and arrived around 5:30 p.m. Monday, soon after the demolition of the rear of the property commenced.

She started looking for the cats.

“I saw the orange one, but not the other two,” she said. “I think it’s crazy. I came here even before I lived in this country. Since I was a kid I used to come. I love this house. … I can’t believe the city’s letting them do this.”

Rose and Stern also said they have been trying to give away the building, which would require removing the house from the parcel so that it could be sold or developed. The Miami Beach Botanical Garden expressed interest, Rose said, but the negotiations went nowhere.

“The question is, what happens tomorrow?” Farkas said.

Scene shift. It’s Tuesday, July 10, just after 9 a.m. and the Historic Preservation Board is about to convene. Almost immediately the subject of the Coral Rock House comes up.

And although Assistant City Attorney Gary Held (also present during the demolition) warned that the item was not on the agenda and couldn’t be discussed, Cary passed around photos of the demolition that had taken place the night before, accompanied by the disclaimer that there would be media coverage of the events.

“There has been no damage to the house,” Cary said, referring to the eastern front façade.

Board Chair Allan Hall ignored Held’s persistent warnings and allowed a few people to speak.

“The developer put you in a terrible place,” Novick’s attorney, Kent Harrison Robbins, told the board. “Unfortunately you weren’t strong enough.”

He read from a letter sent to Stern’s attorney, Carter McDowell, begging for a guarantee that the eastern part of the house would be preserved.

“We will withdraw our appeal if he saves the balance of the house and posts a performance bond with reassurance that the house will be saved,” Robbins said.

“I’m sitting here biting my tongue,” McDowell began in response. “I attended that meeting and I don’t remember threatening you. As we sit here today nobody can save that house until the court order is changed.”

McDowell, assuring the board that his client was showing a good faith effort to save what remained of the house, wanted the appeal withdrawn.

As the back and forth continued, Bill Farkas stood up. He espoused the positions of both parties: To his left stood the developers and the lawyers who say they have lost millions with the house tied up in preservation limbo; on his right, Robbins represented the cause to save the house.

“It’s the role of Solomon that we have dumped on you this morning,” Farkas said.

Worse, the developers said, they are technically in violation of the court order to tear the unsafe structure down.

It is one they themselves applied for.

Hall, with the whole of the audience, listened intently and pontificated on the heart-rending position the contest has brought about. “We seem to live in an era of strident arguments,” he said, as Stern agreed from the sidelines.

Board member Jean-Francois LeJeune lamented “the violence of the scene” at the demolition site, sympathizing with bystanders “when they saw these machines attack.”

Regardless, McDowell said, Stern needs a court order to not knock down the portions of the house he has a demolition order for.

But “all I’m hearing is lip service,” Robbins later told the SunPost. “When they put up the bond to save the house, and the money is on the line, we can begin the process of withdrawing the appeal.”

Robbins and crew have filed a motion for a rehearing of the Coral Rock House issue at the next regular HPB meeting in August. “If they deny that request we can go to the special master; then it could move to the circuit court,” Robbins said, hinting that the legal battle is far from over. “We just want to preserve the historic nature of that neighborhood. Many times we’ve restored buildings with orders of demolition in place.”

Robbins fended off the devil’s advocate argument that there could be a financial advantage for his client to preserve the building. “If you’re talking about the value of historic buildings in the area — that’s in everyone’s best interest,” he said. “There’s certainly no financial advantage to lawyer this.

“The developer in this project would do and say anything that would be in their financial interests,” Robbins added. “It’s all about the money.”

Erik Bojnansky and Robin Shear contributed to this story.

Comments? E-mail angie@miamisunpost.com.