He Takes Recovery One Putt at a Time

He lives--or rather, lived--in a Granada Hills condominium complex called Rinaldi Village. He works--or rather, worked--at a Van Nuys aerospace firm called Kaiser Marquardt.

Like many people, Steve Lomas, 53, was dealt a double dose of trouble by the events of 4:31 a.m. Monday. His condo has been judged uninhabitable. And Kaiser Marquardt, which builds thruster engines for the space shuttle, suffered so much damage that employees have been placed on indefinite furlough. Lomas has already applied for unemployment benefits.

Steve Lomas’ damage exceeds the norm. But last Friday, Lomas didn’t join the multitudes seeking aid from FEMA, the city’s Building and Safety Department or local charities. He had another way to find relief.

Lomas played golf. “This,” he explained, “is where I’m happiest.”

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Unless you play the game, you might think it strange, even inconsiderate, that people would be golfing at a time of crisis. Much of Los Angeles lay in ruins--and yet some Angelenos insist on going out and having fun and acting as if nothing whatsoever is wrong in the world.

“You know what they say about golfers,” said Dave Williamson, working the starter window at Griffith Park. “If Charlie drops dead on the tee, you hit the ball and drag Charlie.”

This was true even on Monday, even at daybreak, just a couple of hours after all of Los Angeles was violently awakened to a world of wreckage and darkness.

Steve Leyra of Sunland told this story over a mug of beer at the proverbial 19th hole. The quake shakes him awake. At dawn, he’s driving to work through Pacoima. To his amazement, a foursome is strolling down the first fairway at Hansen Dam.

“I thought, man, that’s crazy,” Leyra said.

A friend corrected him. “They’re dedicated,” Ian Franklin said.

Sure, plenty of people canceled reservations. Last week, the Recreation and Parks Department was kind enough to forgive the usual $2 penalty for golfers who fail to show up at their appointed times.

Chris Paz, a teaching pro and shop assistant at Griffith Park, said some friends played on the Wilson course on Monday, taking advantage of the no-shows. Besides, they figured, is there a safer place to be?

“They said that after a big aftershock, they could hear the trees kind of cracking. They figured if they kept the ball on the fairway, there’d be no problem,” Paz said.

If what Paz says is true, this is one golfer who is glad he waited until Friday to return to the links. My game is too wild to brave cracking trees. I’m more of a duffer than a golfer--the kind of player who requires just one sweet shot to keep coming back for more abuse. For years to come, I’ll remember just one thing about Friday’s round--a four-iron that soared 185 yards in a perfect arc and settled 18 inches from the pin. Damn near got an eagle.

At the 19th hole, I made the mistake of asking Leyra, Franklin and their pal, Bob Baldridge, about their scores. Leyra and Franklin both shot 85s. Baldridge shot an 87.

“If you’re going to use that,” Baldridge said, “be sure to mention that it’s the first time either of these guys beat me. I’m proud of them.”

They did high-fives and ordered another round.

Then Baldridge turned to me: “What’d you shoot?”

I was too embarrassed to be specific. Rather than boasting of my magnificent four-iron, I told them about a two-foot birdie putt that was headed straight for the cup, then suddenly broke right. That putt cost me a birdie and four skins.

“You choked!” Baldridge said, smiling.

Naw.

Must have been an aftershock.

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There were, in fact, several strong aftershocks Friday, including ones that measured 4.7 and 4.6 on the Richter scale. Had I been at our Chatsworth office just a few miles from the epicenter, I may well have been diving under my desk.

Instead, I was hacking away on the Woodrow Wilson course. And I didn’t feel a single aftershock. Neither did my partners. So what if it wasn’t such a great round? It was an excellent, if temporary, antidote to the tremors.

There is a lot to be said for putting your troubles on hold and seeking a silver lining. Yes, we have earthquakes--but we also play golf in January. Back East, they just freeze.

Steve Lomas--his home unlivable, his job in peril--found a couple of reasons to smile. Lomas, a UCLA graduate, says it’s nice to see Bruin basketball back on top.

As for his golf game, he shot a 79.

He said this with a shrug and a hint of a smile.

“I shot my handicap,” he said. No wonder he’s happiest on the golf course.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday.