Seismic Safety Puts Bernson on Firm Footing on Council

Ever since the Northridge quake, Hal Bernson has had every right to say, “I told you so.”

After all, he has been the most avid proponent of seismic safety on the Los Angeles City Council for more than a decade, spearheading a slew of safety-minded ordinances, including a widely copied law requiring the retrofitting of thousands of unreinforced masonry buildings.

But Bernson has not slowed down to gloat. He has been too busy leading a city panel on earthquake recovery, representing the city on the state’s Seismic Safety Commission to promote new safety laws, not to mention patching up his own quake-damaged home and field office.

Not surprisingly, the quake has turned the spotlight on this San Fernando Valley councilman who has won the respect of seismic experts statewide and the nickname “Mr. Earthquake” at City Hall.

A former business owner with 15 years on the council, Bernson has surprised some of his council colleagues by doggedly battling business interests and a reluctant city bureaucracy to enact often costly safety laws, such as a requirement that smoke detectors be installed in hotels, apartments and homes.

But he is also known by critics and supporters alike as a man with a volatile temper, a tenacious politician with little tolerance for bureaucratic delays and council members who question his efforts.

“Hal’s got a short fuse,” said Councilman Zev Yaroslavsky, who counts himself as a Bernson supporter. “I think he’d be better off if he were a little more patient with the staff and the public.”

Last month, Bernson gave Councilman Marvin Braude a severe tongue-lashing at a council meeting after Braude spoke up against a Bernson proposal to allow a private firm to haul away quake debris by rail. “Shame on you! Shame on you!” Bernson said, leaving Braude at a loss for words.

Stocky, with dark, thinning hair and a serious gaze, Bernson concedes that he sometimes lets his frustration get the better of him. But he makes no apologies for doggedly pursuing the policies he thinks will make the city safer.

“We all get frustrated sometimes if we feel that people are not listening to us . . . about something that is very important to us,” he said in an interview at his Northridge office. “But I don’t think I’ve been abusive. . . . I’m a goal-oriented person.”

With quake safety his strongest suit, it was ironic that Bernson’s northwest Valley district suffered the most in the temblor. Quake damage forced Bernson to abandon his Granada Hills home for five days. At his Northridge office, photos and mementos that were thrown off the walls are still stacked along the floorboards.

The son of Romanian and Polish immigrants, Harold M. Bernson, 63, spent 30 years selling suits and custom T-shirts in the Valley before he ran for his first council term in 1979.

Bernson reluctantly entered politics, he said, when he was challenged by friends and associates to seek a seat left vacant by retiring Councilman Robert Wilkinson.

His conservative, pro-business profile fit his mostly middle-class suburban district well, and he won his first two reelection bids with comfortable margins.

But he ran into trouble during his 1991 reelection bid when he was forced into a close runoff with school board member Julie Korenstein, who harshly criticized Bernson for backing the sprawling Porter Ranch commercial-industrial project above Chatsworth.

But he shrugs off suggestions that his political hold on the district has been weakened, attributing the close race to a slew of misinformation by his opponents and a general anti-incumbency feeling pervading the state.

It’s unclear whether he can transform his post-quake notoriety into votes in 1995 when he seeks reelection, probably for the last time.

Throughout the years, Bernson has toyed with the idea of running for higher office but never followed through.

(The political watchdog organization California Common Cause criticized Bernson for opening the campaign fund in 1989 for lieutenant governor, suggesting that the fund was designed to circumvent the city’s campaign contribution limits--a charge Bernson has rejected.)

Bernson no longer seriously considers running for higher office. “I’m not hoping to go anywhere else,” Bernson said. “This is my home. This is where I live, where my family lives and my friends, and I just want it to be a better place in the future.”

Looking back on his tenure, Bernson recalls beginning his crusade almost by accident. During his first year on the council, he was assigned to chair the Building and Safety Committee, a post without prestige usually handed off to freshman lawmakers.

It was there that he came upon some seismic safety measures proposed after the 1971 Sylmar quake but never enacted. One proposed ordinance required seismic strengthening of all buildings constructed of unreinforced masonry.

He took an interest in seismic safety and decided to back the proposal, warding off angry building owners and others. Some apartment owners bused in elderly tenants to testify at council hearings that their rents would go up, possibly leaving them homeless if such a law passed.

But the law did pass, in 1981. A few years later, he helped organize the city’s first international earthquake conference, attended by 28 countries. He also developed a quake safety booklet for children and help create the “Quakey-Shakey Van,” a vehicle that helps teach children about quake safety.

Last week, the council adopted Bernson’s recommendation that the city require the inspection of 400 steel-frame buildings in the Valley and Westside for quake damage.

Bernson speaks proudly of his accomplishments in the field of seismic safety. And although he takes pride in other accomplishments--principally his work in planning--he doesn’t mind if he is remembered as Mr. Earthquake.

“I think it’s probably one of the most personally gratifying things I’ve done,” he said.

Bill Iwan, chairman of the state Seismic Safety Commission, said Los Angeles has been at the forefront of drafting seismic safety laws. And he gives much of the credit to Bernson.

“San Francisco is not nearly as far along as Los Angeles because they don’t have a Hal Bernson up there,” he said.

Former Councilwoman Joy Picus, who worked alongside Bernson for several years, said that, until now, he hasn’t received enough credit for his achievements.

“It took a lot of persistence to get (the retrofitting law) through,” she said.

Seismic safety is not an alluring issue. But then again, Bernson is not an alluring politician.

Whether speaking about seismic safety or police protection, he is not charismatic or flowery. Bernson speaks plainly, making his point quickly. He usually ends his testimony in council hearings with a brisk “Let’s get on with it.”

He can be brash and defiant. This was evident last month when the city’s Ethics Commission released an audit of Bernson’s campaign fund spending, questioning more than $158,000 spent on foreign travel, expensive dinners and other expenditures.

In response to the audit, Bernson blasted Benjamin Bycel, the director of the Ethics Commission, calling him “biased and one-sided” and describing the audit as part of Bycel’s longtime campaign against him. Bycel declined to comment on Bernson’s criticism.

Bernson’s temper is often cited as his biggest weakness.

Councilman Richard Alarcon, who also sits on the quake recovery panel, said he has been frustrated by Bernson’s tendency to barge into the middle of other people’s comments.

“It concerns me when a council member doesn’t give me a chance to speak,” he said. “A couple of times I’ve had to let Bernson know that I didn’t appreciate being cut off.”

Still, Bernson can also be courteous. Alarcon, a freshman councilman, recalled a day before he took office when Bernson took him on a drive and offered him tips on how to get by in City Hall.

But another council member said Bernson’s demeanor dissuades many from working with him.

But his supporters say Bernson’s gruff demeanor is part of his gritty resolve--the same resolve that succeeded in getting the city to adopt laws that may have saved lives on Jan. 17.

“When Hal believes in something, he is a bull in a china shop,” Yaroslavsky said, with a hint of admiration.

Bernson’s surly demeanor surfaced during his recent effort to get the City Council to adopt a requirement that all building owners install gas valves that automatically shut off during an earthquake.

When Councilman Nate Holden suggested that the valves may shut off the gas to a home when a large truck drives past, Bernson responded: “I think a truck must have run over your head.”

Bernson lost the vote. But despite the defeat, Bernson said his struggle to push seismic safety laws has been rewarding. He recalls recently meeting with a building owner who had fought against Bernson’s ordinance to reinforce masonry buildings.

According to Bernson, the man said, “You know, I really fought you hard on that, and I want to thank you because if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have a building today.”

Profile of Hal Bernson

Born: Nov. 19, 1930, in East Los Angeles

Residence: Granada Hills

Education: Los Angeles City College (one year)

Career highlights: Member on the Mayor’s Advisory Committee on Downtown Redevelopment from 1975 to 1979. Elected to City Council in 1979 with 65% of the vote and reelected in 1983, 1987 and 1991. Appointed to state’s Seismic Safety Commission in 1982. He currently chairs the City Council’s Planning and Land Use Committee, as well as the Ad Hoc Committee on Earthquake Recovery. Bernson is currently working with the mayor’s office to streamline the city’s building permit process.

Family: Married for 28 years with three daughters

Quote: I’m not hoping to go anywhere else. This is my home; this is where I live, where my family lives and my friends, and I just want it to be a better place in the future.”