THE NIGHT I FLEW INTO WEST PALM BEACH, A STRING OF DEADLY TORNADOES RIPPED ACROSS FLORIDA. HIGH WINDS POUNDED SURF AGAINST JAGGED COASTLINE AND WHIPSAWED THE 100-FOOT-TALL TREES ALONG ROYAL PALM WAY—WHAT LOCALS CALL BANKERS’ ROW.
It was just a few days after Donald Trump’s inauguration. A couple of miles down the road, seemingly oblivious to the approaching storm, hundreds of revelers packed Mar-a-Lago, the Great Gatsby–esque private resort Trump has dubbed his “Winter White House,” to fete their new king. The private event, attended by Palm Beach’s billionaires, entrepreneurs and socialites, featured dinner and dancing, a replay of Trump’s swearing-in ceremony and a mammoth ice sculpture of the American lag with “President Trump” emblazoned on the base in red.