Doheny State Beach tower number change encounters opposition – Orange County Registry

The years at Doheny State Beach have changed – the sand space shrinks, palm trees toppled, waves change.

But one thing remains constant in the sand: landmark rescue towers.

The State Park’s recent change in tower count has stirred strong emotions from locals, who It is recommended to keep the number of towers unchanged the way they have been for decades.

“Change is inevitable,” said Mike Foster, owner of the Killer Dana Surf Shop and the petition’s creator. “But there are some things that keep this our home.”

The tower renumbering project was initiated last year to “reduce operational inefficiencies and increase overall public safety efficiencies,” State Parks Director Todd Lewis said in an email.

It was an experimental project and solved some problems, he said. Each tower in the southern region – the state beaches of Doheny, San Clemente and San Onofre – will have a numbered sequence specific to its location.

Of particular interest are groups of people who have for many years gathered at Tower 7 and Tower 12. They recently chatted together about the rich history and memorable moments at those towers.

Foster had hanged himself in Tower 7 for decades, ever since he was a kid, he said, and started surfing at the spot just south of the campsite.

His father had an auto shop next to the Mexican restaurant across the street and he snuck in through a hole in the fence, he said. “I cut my teeth surfing there, taking my kids there.”

When people leave the area and go back to the tower bearing the number they remember as children, it gives a sense of comfort, he said.

“It almost made them feel at home,” Foster said of the changed numbers, with Tower 7 now becoming Tower 33. “Everybody has a place in their hearts for that location. , and renaming the towers makes it feel like nothing. home again. ”

Old people recall an iconic surf beach that formed in front of Tower 7 after great storms swept the sand offshore in the ’70s, rendering a crumbling beach comparable to Salt Creek.

Parties were held there decades ago, including a fundraiser, “Palms Not Bombs,” that brought all the palm trees to the area. It’s $20 per person, including tree donations and all you can drink from a beer keg. Those trees are now mostly gone as sand erosion and storms have devastated the area.

“We’ve got a lot of changes going on,” Foster said. “This is where people can remember their roots, their friendship.”

On the beach at Tower 12, others were grappling with similar emotions when they saw their beloved tower renumbered 36.

Surfers who have gathered there for decades are known as the “Twelve 12,” a tight-knit group that has formed friendships in the sand, often gathering for potlucks and surfing sessions.

David Olive is one of the original Tower 12 surfers who started hanging out there, near volleyball nets and lifeguard headquarters, about 20 years ago.

“It’s a place to come together. We share everything, our personal lives. We love breaking bread together, we eat a lot,” he said. “We surf together and always keep an eye on each other. And that’s the important thing. ”

Two of the members of Tower 12 had a heart attack right in front of the blue tower, now the place they remember as the place where they got a second chance at life.

“Time is of the essence,” Olive notes, and says surfers are still alive because first responders know exactly where to go based on age-old tower numbers. “Who knows, I might walk across the water. I hope my friends are there and I want that milestone to be there too, not just as a celebration, but for people to know how to get there.”

Jay Haslett was one of the surfers who had a heart attack last year right next to Tower 12. He had just finished surfing and was lying on the sand when his breathing became labored. Nearby first responders ran to him as friends called for help.

“The big moment,” Haslett repeated.

Olive, a former State Parks employee, said the new rescuers are often locals, who also grew up with the current numbering system, and he worries changing them will cause confusion.

“This is all about public safety,” he said. “It is extremely important. It will remove them. It has no meaning. ”

Lewis State Parks Director said the previous system had multiple towers in the area with the same number, which also risked confusing response resources. Additionally, he said having several adjacent jurisdictions share the same tower number as the State Park’s lifeguard tower further increasing the risk of confusion.

“The new system allows us to add or remove towers to our operations without having to renumber every tower in the field,” he said.

“Some of the towers in our previous model were identified by name and had no associated tower number,” he said. “The fact that the towers are identified sequentially by number allows other agencies to more efficiently locate each rescue tower in their computer-aided dispatch.”

But, Mark Hansen met his wife at Tower 7 while she was sunbathing and he was playing horseback. They went to dinner that night and 37 years later still on that first date, he said.

“I can’t imagine it’s gone, it’s silly for them to do that,” he said. “There are so many memories.”