Seal Beach Welcomes Back Its Pier : Celebration Marks Reopening of 79-Year-Old Landmark

At the instant the ceremonial red ribbon was cut and the first of 65 fireworks exploded in the sky Sunday afternoon, the townspeople of Seal Beach surged forward to reclaim their beloved pier two years to the day after a winter storm ripped it apart.

Leading the pack were about 20 children who squirmed past their elders, each vying to be the first to sprint to the end of the 1,865-foot, wood-piling pier. By the time they reached the end, the wooden planks were so jammed with throngs of people that it was impossible to return at anything but a snail’s pace.

“It’s wonderful to have the pier back,” said Mike Kolodziej, 43, who took a more leisurely stroll along the renewed 79-year-old monument that many call Seal Beach’s equivalent of the Statue of Liberty.

“We really love this: You get to fish, you get the sea and salt. It’s just a nice place to be,” said Kolodziej, a sales manager for Southern Pacific Railroad.

It was the biggest party anyone in town could remember since the legendary St. Patrick’s Day parties of the 1960s, and it drew more than 7,500 people of all ages who swarmed along Ocean Avenue and Main Street under sunny skies.

Beer Cans in Brown Bags

Though alcohol is not permitted on public streets or beaches, no one seemed to mind the beer cans in hand so long as they were discreetly placed in brown paper bags.

As an oompah band played and hamburgers sizzled on grills in cabana concession stands, the leaders of the campaign to rebuild the historic pier prepared to deliver thanks to those who helped to raised the first $140,000 of the $2.3-million reconstruction cost. Federal and state dollars and grants from state conservation groups paid the rest.

Battered by a series of winter storms, two chunks of the pier were torn away by pounding waves just before daybreak Jan. 27, 1983.

“My God, it was unbelievable,” said Don Mabe, a firefighter and longtime Seal Beach resident. “The waves were breaking over those palm trees,” he said, pointing to four 25-foot trees swaying in the warm breeze.

When the dedication ceremony ended, after all the speeches and thank yous were extended, the ribbon was cut and fireworks set off.

The explosions stopped 3-year-old Nicole Murray in her tracks. The toddler from Lakewood clutched her palms to her ears as she tried desperately to hang onto her Cabbage Patch doll, a bag of Doritos and a yellow balloon.

“I don’t like those,” Nicole wailed, bursting into tears.

Her father, Michael Murray, a 27-year-old data processor with red, punk-style hair and a hand-grenade earring and a diamond stud in his left earlobe, scooped Nicole up in a futile attempt to comfort her.

Nearby, boys on skateboards careened over speed bumps and dogs barked at one another.

But 74-year-old Charles Buchner had to get out for a look at the old hangout. Pressing forward in his wheelchair, the former construction crane operator who lost a leg and hip to arthritis said, “I came out here nearly every day before the storms. So it was really rough when I couldn’t pass the time here.”

One of the first to cast a fishing line into the surf was house painter Martin Walsh, 33, of Long Beach. “I didn’t think there’d be this many people here,” he said as the crowd moved counterclockwise along the wooden planks.

“I came here today ‘cause I figured there might be some fish here after two years of nobody fishing it,” Walsh said. “Hopefully, there’ll be a couple of halibut laying around down there.”

His friend, Owen Foley, 31, explained, “This pier has a reputation for not being too productive.”

The two men turned back to bait their hooks with anchovies, and the celebration continued unabated till sunset.

Dr. James Grifone, an internist who moved to Seal Beach in 1972, said, “I think everybody kind of took it for granted until it was demolished.”