In an alternate reality, the name Everglades Jetport would be synonymous with glamour and luxury.
It would be a name on the lips of the rich and the famous as they arrive off their supersonic jets in the US from distant destinations around the globe, before being whisked off to the nearby bright lights of Miami and beyond.
Instead, the name is now long forgotten. All that remains is one lone, large runway in the middle of a swamp, a sad relic of what was going to be the world’s biggest airport.
It could have been so different. It was the end of the 1960s and the “Golden Age of Flying” of gourmet meals, cigars and endless champagne and was still in flow. Concorde was being developed, as was a US rival –the Boeing 2707, and the age of supersonic jets was about to transform the way the world travelled.