Only the tattered remains of an elaborate marina today mark the site of one of Biloxi’s largest and most famous resort complexes. The Broadwater Beach holds a firm place in the memory of many a resident of the area, but the site holds only the promise of future development today. Its history is one which deserves to be told, particularly as it portended the future of the Mississippi Gulf Coast as we know it today long before the arrival of legalized gambling. The hotel itself was the product of illicit gain, having been built by Pete Martin Sr., a well known gambler, rum runner and raconteur. His establishment was a modest hotel in the “modern” style we know today as Art-Deco. In those days, its clean lines and rounded front with glass block and overhanging eaves would have simply been modern design. As built, the hotel had only 66 rooms on four floors and in a handful of cottages scattered around the grounds. Martin built the “Beach House Pier” across the street, an ambitious 600-foot fishing pier with a dancing pavilion, barber and beauty shops, a snack bar and the inevitable casino with “sports results” to boot. While never exactly legal, Martin’s casino flourished until Estes Kefauver swept through the Coast in the 1950s. After that, some say the gambling simply moved across the street into the main hotel.
Brighter days would bathe the Broadwater in the bright spotlight that only money and imagination can bring. The money came from the new owner, Texas oilman Joe Brown, and the imagination came from his redoubtable wife, Dorothy, a native of New Orleans. Mr. Brown wasted no time in dying so that his wife could spend even more money on the property. Spend she did. Three million dollars alone went to build an elaborate marina which was built in 1963. Still more money bought a new face for the Broadwater and a sweeping concrete canopy marked the new entrance as one fit for celebrities. Mrs. Brown was intent upon creating the best resort on the Coast, surpassing everything in its wake. She added tennis courts, riding stables and later purchased the old Great Southern Golf Course nearby. The Sun and Sea Courses would be added in 1968 and 1974.
The main building was expanded with a grand dining room called the Royal Terrace which overlooked a swimming pool fit for Hollywood. The Lanai wing had the largest and nicest rooms and suites in the resort, but there were many other options. Cottages and apartment-like wings were scattered through the 260 wooded and landscaped acres and guests were ferried around in golf carts if they didn’t care to drive to their rooms. The playground atmosphere managed to continue right up through the late 1980s when the hotel began its first signs of decline. With the arrival of legalized gambling in 1992, the future of the Coast was set in stone, and the hotel was quickly sold to gambling interests.
John E. Connelly of Pittsburgh and his company, the President Casino Corporation, bought the now slightly drooping hotel. Instead of improving the hotel, the new owners placed their resources into gambling, and lots of it. More rooms were needed, so they simply purchased the former Biloxi Hilton nearby and renamed it the Broadwater Tower. Nary a penny was spent on the hotel and its decline turned into freefall as ever more elaborate plans were bandied about for its eventual replacement. To her credit, longtime manager Leigh MacConnell, one of the first women to head a large resort of this type, held to her standards as long as she could. It was a losing battle and the Broadwater would finally close its doors for the last time on July 30, 2005. There wasn’t even a whimper of protest as much of the property had been obscured by years of renovation and expansion. In the following month, Katrina would do a little renovation of her own, leaving the property in shambles.
The new owners, W.C. “Cotton” Fore and construction magnate Roy Anderson had even bigger plans than the failed “Destination Broadwater,” a poorly thought-out plan which was jettisoned by the Corps of Engineers in 2001. Their plan called for 3,375 condominium units, 1900 hotel rooms and a host of shops, restaurants and other entertainment options. This didn’t pan out either. Subsequent attempts at leasing the property to the Mashantucket Pequots or other groups also came to naught. The property is still owned by Fore and Anderson and one hopes that it will soon be home to something more than an empty lot.
On a personal note, I had never stayed at the Broadwater, but had visited several times for lunch at the Royal Terrace. My recollections of elegant china on crisp linen and waitstaff in crisp white jackets were jarred into reality when I visited again in the late 1990s. I was allowed to walk through what remained of the original Art-Deco section of the building, little more than a corridor of tiny former guest rooms which obviously hadn’t been used in more than a decade. By this time, the Broadwater was entering the terminal stages of its desuetude. I walked over to the former Hilton where I had been a guest before in its Hilton days. Opening the door to the lobby was like licking an ashtray. The formerly exotic swimming pool with its tented swim-up bar inside was a disaster area and almost cried out for the wreckers to come and put the place out of its misery. Indeed, the former Hilton/Broadwater Tower was demolished in 2006 for the Ocean Club, a condominium-hotel which occupies the site today. The Hilton, however, had been built for quick profit and had virtually no architectural features worth preservation. Buildings of every period deserve preservation, but the Hilton wasn’t one of them.
Was the original part of the Broadwater worth saving? It was certainly worth saving, but it must be taken into account that relatively little of the original structure had survived unaltered, even before Katrina. As with the Tivoli, had there been a will to preserve the building, it could have been accomplished. To the new owners, no doubt, an aging and decrepit resort well past its prime must have seemed an impediment to progress. To those who remember it, though, the Broadwater represented a vibrant slice of their history, a pleasure dome of nearly boundless proportions. The new palaces of pleasure may be bigger and glossier, but they are not always better- especially in an architectural sense. Decorum has been traded for convenience time and time again. Wouldn’t it be nice to see something just a bit like the old Broadwater rise from the site again?

















I remember after Katrina finally seeing the original Art Moderne section that had been hidden behind that screen. I hadn’t really realized until then that the older part was still there. I hated to see it torn down, but it was quite a mess. Structurally it probably could have been saved, if, as you say, there had been a will to do it.
Posted by ELMalvaney | May 19, 2010, 11:10 pmThank you so much for this article about the beautiful Broadwater that I practically grew up in during the early 70s and 80s. My father owned an independent telephone company in north mississippi and was also mayor of our town. The telephone convention would be held every year at the broadwater then we would go down the street to the Hilton for the municipal convention. I have been literally SICK that the Broadwater is now but a memory. I have cried and begged for information and more pictures from people on the internet. I would give anything for a picture of the rounded, pink restaurant. I can see every inch of the resort and I can even SMELL the elevators. Your descriptions were so accurate. The crisp linens, silver, the little train that ran throughout the property, the playground, cottages, golf carts……it was lightening in a bottle. Thank you, thank you for recognizing this Mississippi legacy. My heart breaks now just thinking of it……a part of me, my mother and daddy still sit on that property, even if it is now gone. I would love to hear more……..please e-mail me if you have any memorabilia or pictures.
Posted by Lori Holland | June 1, 2010, 12:46 amI have one of the original wire bingo balls that they used in the 1950-s early 60′s that my daughters and I rescued after Katrina hit and before the building was demolished. It has the clear lucite handle on the end of the turning mechanism. It hangs on my wall now as a memento. As I was growing up in the 70′s, it always seemed like a dream and I wanted to stay there so badly, that when I turned 45 in 2010, my family reseved the bottom floor end room by the steps to the bottom pool with the waterfall for the weekend for my birthday as a surprise. How we enjoed our weeked! It was bittersweet because we knew it was being shut down in less than two weeks. i finally got my dream – and then Katrina took it forever!
Posted by Jenny | September 21, 2010, 2:25 pmI was able to save two of the paintings that hung in the hallway leading to the suites in the main building: The “Jean Baptiste Le Moyne” “Sieur De Bienville” and “Lapoocha”. They are beautiful pieces of art and history.
Posted by John | January 30, 2011, 4:34 pmThank you for your kind comments. I’m happy to have rekindled pleasant memories for you. I will see what I have in my collection on the Broadwater. Let us hope that a meaningful development will take its place and perhaps carry on its distinguished history and name.
Posted by Tom Barnes | June 1, 2010, 3:53 pmThank you so much for posting this article. I have fond memories of visiting the Broadwater in the 1970s and early 1980s with my parents. My father worked for a lumber company in New Orleans and he attended a convention annually at the hotel. We always stayed in the Lanai rooms which as I recall were a pricey $65.00 per night at the time. We dined at places like the White Pillars, Trilby’s, the French Connection and of course Mary Mahoney’s Old French House. Our favorite time to be had was always at the Royal Terrace Room as my parents were much older and loved to listen to Leon Kelner and his orchestra. By referencing the dining room, you resolved a lengthy discussion that I had this past Novemebr with a friend; we tried for hours to remember the name of the room!
Posted by Chris Maurer | June 7, 2010, 1:54 pmThe Broadwater Beach Hotel holds many great memories for me. In the days when I was a student at Gulf Park College in Long Beach (1950′s), a lot of events were held at the hotel. One seemed to be more elaborate than the next, but everyone had a wonderful time. The Naval Cadets from Pensacola always showed up looking sharper than ever!!!!
Posted by Judie Kiker Kopfman | September 23, 2010, 1:05 pmThanks to all for the memories in story and pictures. As a construction supplier at The AGC conventions there when I was young, I know many of the states’ Architects, Engineers, and G.C.’s had many a fun weekend there helped along by our “Hospitality Room” and those supplied by others. Ours only suppied booze, (and a view of that incredible multi-leveled pool!)
Posted by John Caldwell | March 14, 2011, 3:57 amMy husband and I have many fond memories of stays at the Broadwater. While unpacking some boxes that had not see the light of day for many years we came across a small bowl that was used to serve peanuts in the lounge. We are trying to remember the name of the lounge; it had a horse racing theme. I also have albums from Leon Kelner!
Posted by Sandra Batte | March 22, 2011, 8:07 pmI have been searching websites for hours, trying to find something familiar in Biloxi.
My family vacationed there every Easter vacation through the 60′s and 70′s. I am so
glad to have found your wonderful article! I am so sad to hear that the Broadwater
is gone! I have wonderful memories of Biloxi! The Cabana Beach, Trader Vic’s, the
Buena Vista with a walkway over Beach Blvd, and the Friendship House…. The Broadwater Beach Hotel was such an imposing landmark and the marina was the most elaborate that I had ever seen! The first time that we drove up under that huge canopy at the hotel, I felt like a “princess”. It was the ultimate of “swanky”, “luxourious”, a modern “Grand Hotel”.
We used to fish off the end of the marina, and sometimes stay out there until dark to
watch the lighthouse come on. Then we would go play mini-golf and end up at Crispy
Cream (one of the original sites) for one of the most “sinful” donuts on earth! We took
our own motorboat out to Ship Island some years to fish and then watch the “huge”
waves on the south side of the island. If it got too warm, we went to the fort.
My brother and I would sit at the bar at Barachev’s and watch in amasement as the men opened oysters. My brother got pearls. They had the BEST seafood ever….
Other than Kessler, Mahoney’s and Beuviour, is any of the old Biloxi still there?
Mr. Barnes, thank you for your article and thank you for indulging my walk down
memory lane. I’m so thankful to have had parents that believed in family vacations,
and my father’s wanderlust!
Posted by Gail Luken Bidle | May 12, 2011, 2:08 pmGail, you echo many of my memories of Biloxi of the 1950-60′s. As a child we ‘camped’ in cottages at the Methodist Seashore Campground. I fished off the Marina while stationed at Kessler in 1968-69. Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward docked in the Marina, spring of ’69. We met them playing at the mini-golf course. My time at Kessler was blown away by Camille, lost all from a rental house on Iberville @ Hiway 90.
Posted by Graham Lewis | December 31, 2011, 12:37 pmMy father, John Burke, was the Executive Chef at the Broadwater from about 1966 through 1971. My parents were furnished a cottage across the driveway from Mrs. Brown’s home. The cottage had a large screened porch, and my mother and I would have coffee in the morning and margaritasin the afternoonand watch the tide (this was before the highway was widened). Ms. Leigh was alway so kind when my daughter and I visited, Nick Stuart was still living, and a great boutique in the lobby. Of course, my parents rode out Camille in a room on the backlot, but it was still sad to see the devastation, and what had been the cleanest beach on any coast be dirtied by whatever floated in from the storm, even two years later. Sad to see that the Grand Old Lady came to such a sad and ugly ending.
Posted by Beverly Arnold | June 17, 2011, 11:06 pmMy mother was the pianist /singer (Kay Summers) in the lounge at the Broadwater Hotel from 1969 through 1971. I have so many fond memories of Biloxi and the beautiful coastline. She loved every minute of performing there!
Posted by Melinda Summers | June 18, 2011, 9:30 amMarina was designed by Ray Reasby of Galveston & Houston, with T. M. Dorsett as Chief Engineer. Meant to withstand hurricane-force winds. Planned in 1962 @ a cost of $2.5 million.
Posted by kelerin14 | August 29, 2011, 11:13 pmMy husband, Frank Middleton is from Biloxi and was best friends of Pete Martin, Jr. He loves to tell stories about the Martins and had some good things to say about Mr. Martin, Sr. My husband’s only brother is retired Dr. Robert Middleton, who still resides in Biloxi.
We were just there a few weeks ago and the beaches are beautiful again.
Posted by Jan Middleton | October 4, 2011, 8:53 pmMythology surrounded the remodeling of the Broadwater Beach Hotel and I’ve always wondered if it’s true. As the myth went, Ms. Brown was denied a permit to tear down the old BBH but was permitted only to remodel it. In response, she had a part — and I think a small part — of the original structure elevated four stories and accomplished her “remodeling” yielding the grand ballroom, etc, to which reference is made in the above article. With in the letter, if not the spirit, of her remodeling permit.
Might it also be true that Ms Brown lived at least for a time on the north bank of the Tchoutacabouffa river, just west of the old Hwy 67 bridge. As a lad boating on the river in the early sixties, I often saw a chauffered Limo at that site, and the conventional wisdom held that it was Ms. Brown.
Anyone know the truth of either myth?
Posted by Harold | November 10, 2011, 4:38 amHi Harold. With regard to where Mrs. Brown lived, I am afraid I cannot help you. Local resident Anthony Kalberg might possibly know. You should have no trouble finding him if you look on the web.
As for the original building, I have been through the original and found the upper stories relatively intact. This leads me to believe that Mrs. Brown merely remodeled and expanded around what was already there. This, of course, meant that virtually nothing of the original hotel on the first two floors remained after the radical remodeling program of the 1960s. The building was never raised, as you will note in the post card views above. Mrs. Brown merely expanded the hotel around the existing structure. As for her being told she couldn’t demolish what was there at the time, it makes a great story, but I’d find it very difficult to believe that any city would have demanded preservation of the building in the 1960s. Recall that those were times in which all but the most historic and revered buildings were considered fair game if they stood on the path of “Progress.” It was most likely the simple expedience of keeping the hotel up and running which saved the original Broadwater. Mrs. Brown didn’t lack the funds to destroy it and rebuild from scratch. Had she done so, the hotel would have had to close. This is only a guess on my part and I would be interested to hear more from anyone with interest on the subject.
Posted by Tom Barnes | November 10, 2011, 8:23 am