Officer in Distress : Cop Finds Promoting Benefit Harder Than Chasing Crooks

In general, Sgt. Alexander Gomez has no reason to doubt his skill as a cop. “Give me a murder victim and I’ll find you a suspect,” he says with just the right touch of braggadocio.

But today, Gomez is feeling dejected about his work. He’s stumbling over a simple deed of charity.

His assignment--reluctantly, he admits he volunteered--is the unpolicemanlike job of selling 30,000 tickets to two Linda Ronstadt concerts. The two-day benefit is for a worthy cause, the Police Department’s Hollenbeck Youth Center in East Los Angeles. It will be held July 1 and 2 at Cal State Los Angeles, if Gomez sells the tickets.

So far, only 3,000 have gone. From a promoter’s point of view, that is a desperate situation.

The problem is, Gomez is no promoter. He’s a sober-faced, somewhat stodgy community relations officer. He does police work out of an 8-foot-by-10-foot cubicle, working with troubled youths and angry citizens. He isn’t comfortable with the Hollywood stuff.

“I’m an expert in bookmaking,” he says. “If you make book, I’ve got you. Tell me to promote a concert, and I run into people who say, ‘Don’t bother me kid.’ I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Gomez got into this mess through the best of intentions. The youth center, considered a bright example of cooperation between police and the people they serve, has become endangered by its own success. Conceived after the East Los Angeles rioting of the early 1970s, it was built in 1977 with private donations and grants at 2015 E. 1st St., a block from the Hollenbeck police station.

Since then, its patronage has grown along with its reputation. Among its alumni are two Olympic boxing medalists. Ten thousand youths a year enroll in the center’s boxing, karate, baseball and basketball programs. Nine civilians and three police officers, under Gomez’s supervision, work with them. The center is chronically overcrowded.

Several years ago, its board of directors, made up of leaders from the 200 businesses that constitute the Hollenbeck Police/Business Council, launched a $1.8-million expansion.

The money has been coming in slowly, Gomez said. Finally, construction is about to begin. The expansion will add room for new sports such as gymnastics and wrestling and office space for counseling and educational programs.

Operating costs, already $450,000 a year, will inevitably go up, Gomez said.

He thought the center should have an endowment.

“I said, ‘Hey, wait a minute! We need something spectacular.’ ”

He called some Hollywood agents, trying to dig up a star. Ronstadt called back. She agreed to do the concerts if the police would promote them. Gomez took the proposal to the board.

“They said, ‘You’ve got it,’ ” he said.

Gomez lined up a raft of oldies groups to play for six hours, with Ronstadt singing the finale. Tickets are $10. The plan is to stage concerts for the next 10 years. “The Beach Boys have indicated that they’re willing to do it next year,” he said.

But first, he has to sell this year’s tickets.

He got some help with public relations from a Hollywood production firm and hoped to get by on a tiny advertising budget with posters and public service announcements. “They don’t tell you they run them at 3 in the morning when nobody is up,” he said in disgust.

“Ask someone to help? The answer is, ‘Well, sergeant, there’s a million and one causes. If we do it for you, where do we draw the line?’ ”

Gomez reached the low point a few days ago when he heard a radio disc jockey suggest that Ronstadt might consider backing out if ticket sales don’t pick up.

“Where do I go from here?” he asked, almost pathetically. “It’s so much easier for me to go out on patrol and put my suspect in jail and go home.”