Dr. Von D. Mizell-eula Johnson State Park

There’s a park in Dania Beach, Florida, with a name so long it feels like it should come with a diploma. Dr. Von D. Mizell-Eula Johnson State Park is the kind of place where you can do absolutely nothing and still feel like you accomplished something. It’s a beach, a mangrove forest, a history lesson, and a picnic table all sharing the same ZIP code.

If you’ve ever spent twenty minutes looking for parking at a crowded beach, this park is the deep breath you were looking for. It sits between Fort Lauderdale and Hollywood, but it feels miles away from the spring-break chaos. Yes, you can actually hear yourself think.

The name is long, the vibe is laid-back

The park was formerly known as John U. Lloyd Beach State Park, which sounds like a nice guy who always brought extra ice. Then it was renamed to honor Dr. Von D. Mizell and Eula Johnson, two civil rights leaders who fought to desegregate Florida’s beaches. Their “wade-ins” in the 1950s and 1960s helped open the ocean to everyone, not just folks who got there first with a beach umbrella.

That history matters, but the park doesn’t hit you over the head with it. You can learn something, then go back to worrying about whether your sunscreen is waterproof. That’s a pretty good balance.

What you actually do there

You swim, you float, you walk, and you eat snacks that taste better because you’re barefoot. The beach is wide and gentle, with that soft Florida surf that says, “Relax, I’m not trying to knock your sunglasses off.”

Bring a kayak or paddleboard if you have one, because the mangrove-lined waterways are calm and weirdly peaceful. If you don’t have one, you can still enjoy the boat ramp area and watch other people look nautical. No one is grading your outdoors skills.

Mangroves, birds, and a few goofy creatures

The nature trail winds through mangroves, where birds perch like they’re posing for a calendar. You might spot a manatee, which looks like a floating couch that learned to swim. Try not to fall in love.

Dr. Von D. Mizell-Eula Johnson State Park | Florida State Parks

There are also lizards, butterflies, and the occasional raccoon with the confidence of a tiny burglar. Keep your snacks zipped up, unless you want to sponsor a raccoon’s brunch. They are not shy.

The beach has a past, and it’s worth knowing

Now you can splash in water that people once had to fight to enter. That’s heavy, but the park wears it lightly. It’s not a museum with velvet ropes; it’s a place where kids bury each other in sand and somebody’s aunt is winning at dominoes under a pop-up tent.

You can honor the history by simply enjoying the freedom of it. Float, swim, breathe, repeat.

Practical stuff without the spreadsheet

Come early on weekends, or come on a Tuesday and feel like you discovered a secret. There’s a fee per vehicle, restrooms, showers, and picnic areas, so you don’t have to rough it like a survival show contestant. Pack water, shade, bug spray, and maybe a hat that makes you look like you know what you’re doing.

The sun here is not a gentle suggestion. It is a laser with a beach pass. Reapply sunscreen even if you’re “only sitting there,” because sitting there is how half of Florida gets roasted.

Dr. Von D. Mizell-Eula Johnson State Park | Florida State Parks

Rules for keeping it lovely

Don’t feed the wildlife. Don’t trample the dunes. Don’t treat the park like a tailgate that forgot its manners. Take your trash, lower your volume, and let everyone else have their small slice of quiet.

If you see someone struggling with a cooler, offer a hand. If you see a plastic bag floating by, grab it. That’s the whole spirit: enjoy it, then leave it better than you found it.

A forgotten towel is just a reason to air-dry while pretending to be a mermaid. A forgotten snack, however, is a tragedy that no ocean breeze can fix.

Why it sticks with you

Most beaches are just sand and salt. This one has a story, a name that takes two breaths, and a mangrove maze that makes you feel like an explorer without the risk of scurvy. Dr. Von D. Mizell-Eula Johnson State Park isn’t trying to be flashy. It’s just quietly excellent.

So go. Bring a cooler, a cheap beach chair, and zero agenda. The park doesn’t care if you’re in a hurry. That’s its superpower.