In Dire Straits : County Lifeguards, Threatened With 62 Layoffs, Look for a Rescue From Tidal Wave of Red Ink

Los Angeles County lifeguard Lt. Mike Cunningham has rescued hundreds of ocean swimmers from rip currents, resuscitated several heart attack victims and has lost count of the times he has reunited lost children with their parents.

Now, for the first time in his 19 years of beach duty, Cunningham the rescuer needs rescuing.

As the county budget crisis threatens to eliminate lifeguard services at nine of the coastline’s most popular beaches, including several in the South Bay, Cunningham and hundreds of other county lifeguards are crying for help.

“We’re in a riptide of fiscal uncertainty,” said Cunningham, a lifeguard supervisor in Hermosa Beach. “It’s a life and death struggle for the lifeguards.”

To ward off budget cuts that could dramatically reduce lifeguard services countywide, Cunningham and fellow lifeguards have cast themselves in unfamiliar roles as political activists. They formed a coalition and began spending their free time writing letters and attending City Council meetings. Some have even strayed far from their beloved beaches to lobby in Sacramento.

The lifeguards’ ordeal is taking a toll on their personal lives. Some lifeguards are cutting back on expenses and recreational activities to stash away money, while others are postponing everything from babies to marriage. At least one lifeguard complains he is having trouble sleeping at night.

“It’s been a real strain,” said lifeguard Tracy Lizotte, who works in Manhattan Beach. “Every day you come to work having read last night’s paper about the looming crisis. All you can do is go one day at a time.”

Causing the consternation is a plan by the County Department of Beaches and Harbors to eliminate 62 permanent lifeguard positions and to end round-the-clock lifeguard services in an attempt to slash $8.5 million from the department’s $30-million budget.

The austerity plan also would end maintenance and lifeguard services as of Labor Day at eight state-owned beaches, including Royal Palms in San Pedro, Redondo Beach and Manhattan Beach.

The county would also withdraw from Hermosa Beach, which is owned by that city.

The county’s 110 permanent lifeguards, who earn between $37,500 and $61,368 annually, protect beach-goers along 73 miles of coastline. They and 600 seasonal guards rescued 11,729 people from the surf last year.

The county is looking to cut costs following the adoption of the 1993-94 state budget, which takes $2.6 billion from local governments and gives it to schools. The resulting shortfall is expected to force counties to cut back on a number of services, including lifeguard protection.

Noting that the state has already told the county it cannot afford to fill the gap, county lifeguards have been frantically searching for solutions that would protect both their jobs and beach-goers.

Last month, they formed a lobbying group, the Coalition for Safe Beaches, to oppose a plan to merge the Department of Beaches and Harbors with the Department of Parks and Recreation. Saying the proposal would put them under the direction of managers who do not understand the needs of a safety organization, the lifeguards came up with an alternative: merging their department with the County Fire Department.

That plan, which would eliminate 46 managerial positions in the Department of Beaches and Harbors, would save the county $4.5 million without taking a single lifeguard off the beach, lifeguards say.

“The Fire Department knows what it takes to run a public safety operation,” said lifeguard Capt. Gary Crum. “They can make better emergency decisions.”

To win support for their merger proposal, lifeguards have been writing scores of letters to local politicians. Over the past few weeks, they have secured dozens of endorsements from city leaders and businesses countywide. And they have been turning out in record numbers at City Council meetings.

Last week’s Manhattan Beach City Council meeting, for instance, was so crowded with lifeguards and their supporters that city officials had to set up folding chairs in the lobby, said City Manager Bill Smith.

“They drew more people to the council meeting than I’ve ever seen,” Smith said. “We had at least 200 people here. I had to ask some of them to move out of the room. . . . They all wanted the city to save the lifeguards.”

Meanwhile, lifeguards Tom Viren and Dan Atkins trekked to Sacramento this week to lobby for a measure that they say could brighten the lifeguards’ financial picture. The journey was not in vain: AB 2373, a state budget trailer bill, is expected to include an amendment that adds lifeguards to the list of public safety organizations that qualify for a portion of state sales tax revenues.

Although the measure does not guarantee lifeguards will receive additional funding, “it gives us a chance at getting a bigger piece of the county pie,” Viren said.

Despite their success in Sacramento, some lifeguards feel awkward in the role of political activist.

“I’ve never been one of those activists or Berkeley types, until now,” said Venice Beach lifeguard Mike Inscore.

Said Cunningham of his pitch to the Manhattan Beach City Council last week: “I had never done that before. But I was very strong in my convictions and I knew the City Council would listen to reason.”

The fight, however, has exacted a price.

Lizotte, a lifeguard at Manhattan Beach, noted that he recently rescued 26 people in one day and said he is terrified at the prospect of leaving busy beaches unguarded this fall. He said he has been having trouble sleeping and has found it difficult to concentrate at work.

“It’s not just that I want to save my job,” he said. “I just don’t want to see people die.”

Facing the possibility of being unemployed in the next few months, he has decided to hold off on marriage plans to a woman he has been seeing for four years.

“It’s not really a reason to postpone a marriage,” he said, “but you want to be a good provider and if you think you won’t be, it puts doubt in your mind.”

Lizotte is not the only one postponing major life decisions.

Inscore, the last lifeguard to be hired full-time, said he and his wife, Joi, are probably going to hold off having another baby. They are already worried they will not be able to afford health insurance for their 10-month-old son if Inscore loses his job.

“That’s probably the scariest thing, knowing that if I get laid off we have no medical benefits for Hogan,” he said.

Inscore says he could probably find work again as a waiter, something he did to supplement his income during the 12 years he worked as a part-time lifeguard. But in the meantime, he and his wife are holding the line on spending for everything from movies to vacations.

Cunningham is also tightening his belt. To save money in the event he loses his job, Cunningham and his wife increased the deductibles on their car and house insurance. They canceled subscriptions to magazines and cable television. They have also learned the art of coupon clipping.

Cunningham, who has a master’s degree in public administration, said that if he is laid off, he is confident he could find another job. But, he said, it wouldn’t be easy to give up a career he was literally groomed for since childhood.

Cunningham’s father served as an ocean lifeguard for 16 years; his uncle, Jerry Cunningham, is a former director of the Department of Beaches and Harbors.

“Lifeguarding for me is really a love, it was a family thing,” Cunningham said. “From 10 years old, my earliest memory was going to the beach. It was a great tribute to my dad to look up and see him doing these rescues.

“I’m now working side by side with my old Junior Lifeguard coach,” he added. “It would be dissolving those kinds of lasting friendships that I think I would miss the most.”