By Barbara DeLeo and Linda Feaster

Without exception, the lifeguards of the 1950s and 1960s with whom we spoke told us that their days with the Long Beach Township Beach Patrol were the best times of their lives— the warm, carefree summer days of youth, the beach, the parties, the girls, the hopes and dreams ...  the Glory Days.

The United States rode a wave of energetic idealism in the early 1960s, and President John F. Kennedy symbolized our cultures growing obsession with youth, vigor and sophistication. In his inaugural address he said “We stand today on the edge of a new frontier... a frontier of unknown opportunities and perils ... a frontier of unfulfilled hopes and threats.” These words were predictions of the extraordinary evolution that would take place within the decade: the Peace Corps; advancements in science, technology, and medicine; the Vietnam war; and social revolution.

The opening of the Garden State Parkway in 1954 literally paved the way to Route 72, and by the end of the decade, the lure of Long Beach Island was calling more and more vacationers to its beaches. The rickety, two lane wooden Causeway bridge that had been sufficient for residents and visitors since 1914 quickly became obsolete as the means of transporting the increasing volume of vacationers, residents, goods, and services across the bay.  To meet the demand, the modern, four-lane Causeway Bridge was built, and, in a ceremony on May 28, 1959, was dedicated to Governor Meyner, yet by July, serious traffic problems were being experienced around the Causeway circle back to 20th Street in Ship Bottom that were attributed to the fact that the two lanes on Route 72 in Stafford were not adequate to assimilate the four lanes of traffic that were leaving the Island. Plans were drawn for expansion of the Causeway, and an estimated $8 million was spent to make access to and from the Island safe and steady.

Art Jocher was the significant figure in the management and structure of the LBTBP. Since 1952 he had served as Captain of the beach patrol with a clear set of high standards and goals, and he expected the best from his guards. His policies and training program kept his lifeguards in top form and abreast of new lifesaving techniques and equipment. He was very consistent in the performance of his job and in the way he dealt with the young men. The guards who worked under him remember him as being “Great - very strict, but you always knew where he was coming from.” “Tough. Didn't take any guff. You didn't mess with Art.” “We found his physical stature intimidating. He commanded respect and brought discipline to the group.”

As in previous years, all potential guards had to have their Senior Lifesaving Certificate and pass tests that involved swimming in chilly waters in May in order to qualify. When hired, Sandy Hoe recalls that the guards were equipped with a buoy, flags, a first aid kit, double seated blue trunks, a whistle that lacked the rope from which to hang it — the essential component to the lifeguard’s famous winding-the-whistle-over-the-index finger routine — and a red wool jacket that soaked up water like a sponge and smelled just awful when it was soaked with sea water, which was most of the time. The boys were sent to their lifeguard stands with no protection from the sun, and they worked from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., six days a week, for about $200 per month.

Despite the difficult working conditions, there were many young men eager to be lifeguards. The mystique and prestige of being a member of the fraternity (as it largely was in those days) of demigods made the job extremely attractive and rewarding. As the guardians of the beach, lifeguards were accorded respect from the people whose lives they protected. With their lifeguard jackets on and thumbs out, it was always easy for guards to get rides from one place to another. The workplace was also a highly visible and accessible setting for meeting girls.

Lest the young men get carried away with the glamorous side of being a lifeguard, Art Jocher’s standards and discipline were ever-present. The guards were well aware that their duty was to keep the bathers safe, knowing that at any moment they could be called into action. They considered themselves athletes, and respected and cared for their bodies with daily exercise that included calisthenics and a daily 1000-foot swim. This self-discipline and dedication to service were also significant factors in making the job of lifeguard rewarding, and it brought many young men back year after year.

Many lifeguards took extra jobs to help supplement their income. Vince Farias, who guarded from 1963-1965 at 52nd St. in Brant Beach for $60/week, also worked as a bartender, and earned an extra $60-70 for the summer by selling dance tickets. As many guards did, he also gave swimming lessons that he advertised on the back of his lifeguard stand. After working all day and into the night, there were beer parties to attend, and with a full schedule like that, Vince says he didn't get much sleep, but “life was good.”

One of Vince’s most memorable experiences was when a young lady of about 25 years of age came to the beach in one of the new topless bathing suits with slim straps that covered just the bare essentials. Although none of the men on the beach complained, and Vince certainly wasn't offended by the sight, it was his duty to the families on the beach to ask the young lady to cover up or leave the beach.

That occurrence was unusual, and Vince’s response was appropriate, because the position of lifeguard brought with it responsibility as well as respect. For the most part, the people on Long Beach Island’s beaches were families staying in their summer homes. With the same people on the beach week after week, the guards and their beach families got to know each other well and felt responsible for each other. As well as maintaining the rules of conduct for the beach, the guards were the vigilant protectors and knew who could swim and who couldn't. The families appreciated them and the job they performed and did what they could to help their guard, such as bringing him lunch. So close were the ties that some of the guards forged relationships that they still maintain today.

In fact, for Sandy Hoe, a Township guard from 1964-1970, one of his relationships went beyond the friendship stage. While Sandy was assigned to guard the 61st Street beach, he became friendly with a ten year old boy named Mark who kept telling him, "You should meet my sister!" One day in mid-July of 1965, Sandy and Mark were tossing a ball back and forth, when the ball rolled over to a blanket ... and there she was! Sandy introduced himself, and they talked for a time. Through conversation, they found out they lived near each other up north - Sandy in Berkeley Heights and Denise in Westfield. For the next few years, they spent a lot of time on the phone and waiting for summer. On Valentine's Day in 1970, almost five years after they met, Sandy and Denise were married. But not all potential romances got off the ground, and some aspiring girlfriends had to be discouraged. It was nice to have girls at the stand, but they were a distraction, and a guard's first job was to keep his eyes on the water. When admirers hung around too long, the guard would have them run to the next stand and ask for 25 feet of "shore line." Upon being asked, that guard would say, "Gee, I don't have any shore line... go to the next stand." Other things the girls were sent for were a left-handed jetty wrench, a whistle cleaner, and shark repellent. Since all the guards were in on the routine, the girls would be running from stand to stand until they finally got the message.

By 1964, the sport of surfing had grown in popularity to the point that, for safety's sake, it was limited to the hours of dawn to 9:30 a.m., and 6:00 p.m. to sundown, while a strip of beach in Beach Haven South was reserved for surfers all day. But gradually, the development of the Island brought about the necessity of opening and guarding more beaches, and the surfers were being squeezed out. The surf was exceptionally good in the area of the Osborn Avenue beach, which heretofore had been unguarded and was popular with the surfers. When the Township made it a swimming beach in 1967, about 30 surfers accused the town of discrimination, and staged a surf-in, vowing to stay in the water until ordered out. Art Jocher told them that the township was being more than fair about limiting surfing as it had been banned in other parts of the Island. He asked the surfers to abide by the local ordinances and the instructions of the guards. But some of the surfers carried things too far. Two guards were injured, and three of the surfers were arrested.

Skirts were getting shorter, hair was getting longer, and kids painted their bodies and wore flowers in their hair. Reports of marijuana use were becoming prevalent. Bay Village and Schooner's Wharf, where the gift ship Lucy Evelyn was still thriving, were essentially the Island's Flower Power headquarters in the late sixties, and guitar players and music groups like the Wharf Rats became local idols there. When 40 hippies held a love-in on the beach, these signs were regarded as indications that authority was being challenged, and a long-considered ordinance was adopted required a permit if more than 10 people were to be involved at a gathering.

In 1964, the year James Mancini was first elected mayor, the Township Beach Patrol had a 60-member force that guarded thousands of bathers in 36 bathing areas. In some parts of Long Beach Township with established homes or where development was taking place, the density of population was so high that the beaches were called "double beaches." There were also some areas where the beach population was low, and budget constraints precluded hiring guards for these areas. When lifeguards were hired in 1965 for three stations in North Beach, Township officials were challenged for hiring publicly paid lifeguards for quasi-public beaches, but as long as the beaches were open to the public, the commissioners said they were to be guarded by Township guards.

Efforts were made by the Township to maximize the beach patrol's efficiency. In order to help manage the growing crew, Art Jocher appointed lieutenants whose qualifications were simply that they were more responsible than other guards and that Art trusted them. Lieutenants had Jeeps to help them cover their territories, and telephones were installed at street ends. But the phones weren't helpful in the daily situations where split-second decisions had to be made as there was no time to call for back-up or emergency help. It was all up to the guard - and the Long Beach Township Beach Patrol had an excellent record. In Art Jocher's report for the last two weekends of July of 1964, guards gave assistance to 158 bathers in need of help, rendered first aid to 457, and returned 42 lost children to their parents.

More visitors to Long Beach Island meant more people who weren't familiar with the power and the moods of the ocean. To this day the Long Beach Township Beach Patrol has a perfect record of no lives lost on a protected beach, but there were several reports in the Beach Haven Times over the course of the decade of people drowning while swimming alone on unprotected beaches. The fact that these people may have been inexperienced or that they chose to swim on an unguarded beach could have been little consolation to the professional lifesavers of Long Beach Island.

The importance of swimming only at protected beaches is clearly illustrated in a rescue performed by Vince Farias. He spotted two kids who were in trouble in the undertow. Their mother panicked and jumped in after them. Then Vince had three people in trouble. He ran in after them with a flotation device, and all four of them drifted down about four beaches where another guard helped Vince get the kids and the mother onto the shore.

There were days, especially after a storm, that the seas were so rough that fighting them to make a rescue would leave a guard completely exhausted. Sandy Hoe, guard at 58th Street in Brant Beach, remembers one day in 1966 when the ocean was a constant churning ... a roll in to the beach, then two waves together, and then a pull out. Even a strong swimmer could be swept out in this. Through observation and experience, lifeguards learn about the ocean and can see where problems can happen, and Sandy moved his marker flags over a bit to try to prevent people from swimming in a dangerous trough. Nevertheless two men and one woman became caught in it, and Sandy jumped into action. He swam past the two men and out to the woman, who was almost gone, and grabbed her. He then swam back, got the two men, and with much effort, pulled all three in. Guards are supposed to carry the victims to shore, but Sandy was so exhausted, that all four of them struggled in to safety together with the help of beach patrons.

A lifeguard's job is not always limited to sunny, pleasant days on the beach, nor to rescuing victims who entered the ocean from the shore. And making a rescue may bring a guard somewhat more than he bargained for. In the mid-sixties, a large sailboat was spotted nipping in and out of the thick mist that lay over the water during a stormy nor'easter. As it sailed along the coastline, Art Jocher, Sandy Hoe and two other guards, Gary Goodell and Richard Mears, paced the boat on shore in their Jeep, thinking that the people on board might be in trouble. Their suspicions were confirmed when a man finally leapt overboard by the sandbar. Sandy and the two other guards jumped in and pulled him to safety ... and, to the victim's dismay, also into custody, as it was later learned that the boat was the catamaran Bagatelle stolen out of New York with over 80 sticks of dynamite and 30 electrical caps aboard. The Coast Guard and the FBI became involved with the case, and Sandy was later called on to testify in a probable cause suit.

Doug Goodell, a guard from 1963-68, remembers that the biggest hazard to a lifeguard was the terrible glare and eye strain from being on the beach all day. The biggest fear was that you would hurt someone by accident when performing your job. Another concern was getting injured in the line of duty.

At the end of August in 1966, hurricane Faith and a full moon created very unusual seas. Art Jocher noted in his report to the Township Commissioners that the waves came in sets of nine that Monday before Labor Day - first three big ones, then three medium sized waves, and then three small ones. There was also a fairly steady south wind blowing that, along with the seas, carried everything to the north. The Long Beach Township beaches were open that day, but the lifeguards prohibited rafts and kept bathers in close to shore. Despite there precautions, all 40 lifeguard stations rendered assistance to bathers, with one guard making a total of 15 rescues. And because of their precautions, not one fatality occurred. Most of the 200 people assisted were simply exhausted from fighting the surf, and none needed an ambulance. But two guards were injured while performing rescues that day.

Eddie Jenkins and Mike Quittera had ten bathers in trouble right in front of their stand. They had brought in seven when Jenkins stepped in a hole in shallow water and suffered a severely sprained ankle. Fortunately, Quittera was able to bring the other three to safety. Elsewhere, another guard, Fred Glassman, was in the water when a loose surfboard hit him in the head, causing a concussion.

Some injuries to guards happened in the line of duty, but not on the beach. It was a common practice to leave the beach during a thunder and lightning storm and stay at a house on the beach front until the storm blew over. Surfers often went out to surf on the rougher seas. Doug Goodell was keeping an eye on things when he saw one of the surfers get hit in the head with a board. Doug and another guard raced out and were able to bring him in, but while they were on the way to the doctor, a second call came in. The guards were a little confused, thinking that it was the call they were already on. But they later found out that a second accident had occurred when another lifeguard in an oceanfront home saw the rescue taking place and went to dash out the door to help. Unfortunately it was a sliding glass door ... and it was closed.

Many former lifeguards talk of the great times they had and the good friends they made during their summers as lifeguards. Bud Benhayon, a member of the Township Beach Patrol in the 1950s and of the Beach Haven Patrol in the 1960s, has fond memories of his colleague, Sid Feins, who began a lengthy career with the Township Beach Patrol in 1955. "Bird Legs" Benhayon was the Captain of the Beach Haven Beach Patrol Softball Team, and Sid Feins was the Captain of Long Beach Township's softball team, and the two always had some kind of friendly competition in the works. But Sid's softball team was a sure bet to win the league championship in 1963 as they led the other Island teams 10 games to 1 in August. Then they got a little more help, and a few more treasured memories, as Bobby Thomson, an ex-New York Giants player, played third base for the victorious Township team in games against Beach Haven and Surf City.

Bud Benhayon credits Sid Feins for running the Boulevard from Holgate to Barnegat Light in 1949 or 1950, becoming the first person to accomplish such a feat - and claims it was done on a bet. Other guards, too, remember Feins as being an avid runner. As part of his responsibilities as one of Art Jocher's lieutenants in the 1960s, Sid would run from stand to stand to check on the Township guards, much as Jocher had been famous for doing. At one point, Jocher gave him a Jeep to make his rounds, but Sid didn't even make it through one day, and left the Jeep - with the keys in it - on the beach and continued the job on fleet feet.

Lifeguard balls were still being held in the Township building as a way to raise money to supplement the income of the guards, and they were run on a very low budget. A few of the boys of the 1967 beach patrol wanted to give their patrons something more for their money, so they decided to have a clam bake. They advertised and sold tickets, area establishments donated food, and one of the local restaurants donated their kitchen so the boys could cook. To this point, everything seemed to be going well, until several guards were asked to get corn. Knowing a good deal when they saw one, the boys sneaked into a corn field on the mainland and picked the corn fresh from the stalks. Feeling rather accomplished, they brought the corn back to the restaurant - only to discover that the corn was not for human consumption but for livestock!

On the day of the big event, it rained heavily. The boys spent the day cooking all the food, and now they just had to figure out how to get it from the restaurant to the Township building. As a sign of better things to come, the rain let up just in time, and the food made it safely to its destination - where hundreds of people were waiting. To the chagrin of the well intentioned guards, they found that they had grossly under planned and didn't have nearly enough food to feed everyone! The hungry mob displayed their dissatisfaction by pelting the guards with empty hot dog and hamburger buns. Needless to say, this was the first and last clam bake.

Art Jocher was instrumental in initiating the annual Long Beach Island lifeguard races that were first held in 1962 in Beach Haven right in front of the Sea Shell Motel. The tournament consisted of various swimming, running and rowing events that demonstrated endurance and strength, and promoted the spirit of competition and teamwork of the various beach patrols on the Island. The races were hosted by a different town each year, but not all towns participated each year. The rotating trophy, presented by the Long Beach Island Board of Trade, was to become the permanent possession of the team winning the tournament in three consecutive years. Despite stiff competition from contenders on each team, Barnegat Light took the trophy every year during the sixties.

Guy Whidden, Captain of the Barnegat Light Beach Patrol, wrote a number of well-written and informative articles for the Beach Haven Times in the 1960s about the lifeguard races and also about water safety. Whidden's lively descriptions of the individual events clearly communicated the excitement of the contests, and certainly helped spark the public's interest in the races year after year. His water safety articles were truly a public service as their purpose was to inform an unwary public of the unseen hazards of the ocean, such as rip tides. They stressed the importance of swimming only on beaches protected by a lifeguard and heeding the guard's cautionary guidelines, as mishaps can't be avoided by swimming skills alone.

The annual Long Beach Island Beach Patrol Tournaments and other competitions such as garvey races and surfing contests were popular, primarily during the early to mid-sixties. But while their popularity did not wane, other, less desirable occurrences were becoming more evident on the Island. There was an increasing lack of care and respect for the beach and ocean, more kids were being picked up for under-age drinking and use of false identification, and people were now being advised to lock their cars.

Regrettably, Long Beach Island could not escape the influence of the outside world, which, in the second half of the decade, was reaching new highs and new lows. The fighting in Vietnam War was in restrained escalation as Americans, once unified by World War II and more than twenty prosperous post-war years, divided into hawks and doves. With the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, the focal points for the civil rights movement were lost. But tremendous advancements in computers, Man's first walk on the moon, the first flight of the supersonic airliner Concord, and the premiere of Sesame Street were bright lights to follow through to the other side of the next decade.