The same bartenders had worked since noon, and although their numbers had multiplied, they wearily announced last call, wandering through the bar with plastic cups for people whose bottles were still full. "Hell no, we won't go!" jokingly yelled reveler Tony Cho. But the Miami Beach Police had arrived, and it was time to head home.
Outside on Second Street the air was chilly, and partiers leaving the bar shivered as they zipped up their sweatshirts. A few stragglers wandered through the neighborhood with flashlights and lanterns, picking their way over fallen trees. Where the winds of Wilma had whipped violently that morning the air was now cool and breezy ,the only sound the hum of generators and the occasional car passing by. Silhouettes of dark buildings were punctuated by candlelit squares, but the darkness was total and profound. On Monday night the stars shone brighter than usual.