The Raging Torrent of Harvey Levin

Shortly after 8 a.m. Saturday, an incredible scene began unfolding in the heavy rain at Las Flores Canyon Creek in Malibu. And KCBS-TV Channel 2 captured everything.

It swirled. It foamed. It raged. It cascaded. It surged. It gushed. It overflowed. It overwhelmed. It was a wild, unstoppable torrent.

And that was only Harvey Levin’s mouth.

A number of Los Angeles stations were on the air with storm reports at that time, and as part of its own coverage, Channel 2 went live to reporter Levin and his cameraman in the downpour. There was Levin, flapping around in the creek, which he excitedly exclaimed was swiftly rising and becoming turbulent enough to wash away a house standing on its bank.

In a week in which Los Angeles broadcasters and their reporters, camera-persons and chopper pilots performed so admirably and selflessly to bring viewers the latest on the epic storm that hit Southern California, this was the absolute low end of the coverage.

Levin was at once comical--the occupants of the threatened house appeared to be amused by his theatrics--and dangerous. It wasn’t what he reported but how he reported it that was so irresponsible.

For one thing, his demeanor was frenzy and panic, his arms sometimes flailing as, bareheaded in the driving rain, he paced the creek and babbled breathlessly about the perilously strong current that he was bucking: “I’m going to walk you down there . . . do not try this at home. . . . Well the creek is beginning to rise, and I’m beginning to sink. . . . I’m going to show you my boot. . . . Don’t worry about the pants, I’m not.”

His pants? It was his mixed messages that worried you.

Here was Levin, on the screen at a time when kids habitually gravitate to TV on Saturday mornings, defying the advice of police and fire officials by standing and walking in the water only a couple of days after a 15-year-old youth died in the storm when he was swept away by the Los Angeles River.

Which was the more powerful message, Levin’s exhortation not to do what he was doing, or the fact that he was doing it? After all, kids might think, if it’s not hazardous for him, why would it be for them?

Even after being politely admonished by composed anchors Chris Conangla and Tritia Toyota, and advised by them to get out of the water, Levin remained, ever the daredevil, dragging his poor cameraman along with him.

Everything about Levin, his voice and body language, said: Look at me! See how brave I am! He reminded you of a war correspondent who foolishly stands up in a foxhole and has his head blown off. He reminded you also of Will Spens, the former KNBC Channel 4 “Nightwatch” commando whose reckless wee-hours forays into the city’s toughest neighborhoods endangered himself and his crews, and once even got them shot at.

Levin’s performance was a stunning contrast Saturday to the calm, professional work of his Channel 2 colleagues and reporters on other stations, who got the job done responsibly, and without the antics.

As it turned out, Harvey Hysteria was a false alarm. The storm quickly passed, the creek subsided, the house remained intact. At about 10 a.m., Levin reported live from the structure’s rear deck overlooking the water. “This was a dangerous creek,” he declared, “and we were walking in it!”

Ooooooh!

Like most of its counterparts, Channel 2 never lets a non-story interfere with self promotion. On the station’s 5 p.m. newscast, a dried-out Levin sat in the studio and summarized his adventure for viewers after this introduction from anchor Penny Griego: “ ‘Action News’ was not only the first on the scene, we were the only ones there.” For the story that turned out not be a story, but did give Levin a chance to splash, slosh and showboat in the rain.

And remember, kids, don’t try this in your creek.

Get a hat, Harvey. Get a head.