Suit Alleges Student Rolls Were Padded : Courts: Instructor says he met retaliation when he complained about enrollment figures. Trial set to begin next week.

When Brian McMahon received tenure in El Camino Community College’s auto collision repair department, the first thing he wanted to do was come clean.

For nearly five years, McMahon said, he had been directed by several administrators to give passing grades to “phantom” students who were either not enrolled or never showed up for his class after registering. Specifically, he says that the dean of industry and technology told him to “enroll your mother if you have to.”

“I was tired of giving out A’s to empty chairs,” said McMahon, 35, who became tenured in 1989.

“But when I complained about it, instead of listening to the message, they shot the messenger.”

Use of phantom students to ensure its state share of funding is just one of the numerous allegations made by McMahon in his lawsuit against El Camino Community College. His lawsuit charges the school with retaliating against him for complaining about a wide range of alleged misconduct: influence peddling, rampant corruption among administrators, theft, and misuse of school property and instructional materials by faculty, including the operation of a “chop shop” with donated vehicles.

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The trial, set to begin Monday in Torrance Superior Court, comes as El Camino struggles to raise shrinking student enrollment and dwindling funds. The school has lost almost a third of its population in the past three years, falling by more than 10,600 to an enrollment of about 22,000. Ten candidates vying for three seats on the district’s board of trustees in Tuesday’s election say they can boost enrollment through enhanced recruitment activities.

But McMahon said the reason he was asked to pad the student totals is that recruitment is too expensive. And he contends that phantom enrollments are commonplace, especially in vocational classes.

“Phantom students are more prevalent in vocational studies such as auto collision and cosmetology because they are electives and are harder to fill,” McMahon said. “Requirements like psychology, for example, are always packed.”

Kenneth Jew, of Liebman, Reiner & Walsh, the attorney for El Camino Community College, refused to comment on the lawsuit except to say that of the eight claims McMahon filed in 1993, seven have been dismissed. They involved such complaints as emotional distress and torturous discipline. Jew said McMahon’s only outstanding charge is for wrongful personnel actions.

McMahon joined the college in 1985. A year later, he said, he was told to start enrolling phantom students. He said he first complained about the situation in 1990, the year after he received tenure.

Backing up McMahon’s contention is the father of one of the alleged phantom students.

Dr. Edward Lenoski, a retired USC medical professor, said he was shocked when his son, Andrew, told him he had received credit and passing grades for McMahon’s auto class and a business math class in fall, 1990.

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“I had never seen anything like this before. My son came up to me and said, ‘I just got a grade for a class I never went to,’ ” Lenoski said. “I complained to El Camino and asked for those classes to be taken off Andrew’s transcript. I never received a response.”

Andrew Lenoski could not be reached for comment.

In his lawsuit, McMahon also alleges that cars donated to the auto collision department for instructional purposes were instead used by faculty or sold. Lawsuit documents charge that division Dean Ron Way and Kenneth Zion, both of the auto department, stole parts from donated cars and installed them either in their own cars or other administrators’ cars. McMahon says a blue Chevrolet Sprint was chopped up and the parts were sold by Zion to Western Auto Body for $500.

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When contacted by The Times, Way said he was given permission to take the parts. He declined to comment further.

Zion did not return telephone calls from The Times.

McMahon alleges that cars belonging to relatives of El Camino faculty, administrators and managers were also being repaired and restored at no charge to the school. A note entered in support of his lawsuit, and which appears to be written by a dean’s daughter, thanks Zion and McMahon for fixing her mother’s car. “Without both of your help, I would be in debt,” she writes. The writer could not be reached for comment.

To back his charges, McMahon shows what appear to be repair receipts showing work done on faculty vehicles and their relatives’ vehicles. He says repairs were done either by himself or by students under his supervision, at no cost to the customers or El Camino for use of school supplies and instructional materials.

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After he filed his complaints, McMahon said, countless acts of retaliation occurred. First, he said, a paid sabbatical to study law was revoked even though it had been approved. Then McMahon’s scheduled summer classes were abruptly canceled. His car was cut in half and half was thrown in a dumpster. Locks on his classrooms and work areas were changed. Then his name and photos were removed from class schedules.

McMahon, who still teaches at El Camino, said he even found a bullet in his desk drawer and an article in his mailbox about a millworker who “snitched” and was later killed. He said he fears for his life and sometimes regrets bringing forth the allegations.

“I really didn’t expect this. You would think someone in the administration would reward me for coming forward,” he said.

The chancellor’s office of the California Community Colleges in Sacramento is looking into McMahon’s allegations of phantom student enrollments, said Ralph Black, an attorney for the office. But Black said the office does not have jurisdiction over the allegations of faculty stealing auto parts or getting free repair work.

McMahon, who is representing himself in his lawsuit, is asking for more than $50,000 in damages. In September, 1994, he rejected a settlement offer of $25,000.

McMahon is asking for the financial equivalent of his sabbatical and a cease-and-desist order, which would hold the college in contempt for any further retaliatory acts.

“I don’t care about the money. I don’t want to be president of the school and have a building named after me,” he said. “All I want is for the college to admit they did this and maybe that will encourage more people to come forward.”