Ski's a Grand Old Flag Waver : Thomas Demski of Long Beach will be high-flying when he gets to D.C., the capital of the Free and the Brave, next week to unfurl the world's biggest Stars and Stripes, the emblem of the emblem he loves.

By JIM WASHBURN

June 9, 1993 12 AM PT

SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

There has been no shortage in American history of politicians and others who have wrapped themselves in the flag, but Thomas (Ski) Demski is probably the only person who could wrap his whole neighborhood in one.

Thirteen years ago he saw a large flag hoisted adjacent to a freeway while he was driving. Something clicked for him, and since then the 63-year old Santa look-alike has flown a variety of oversized U.S. flags from the 132-foot pole he built outside his patriotically painted residence in Long Beach.

On this particular Thursday afternoon he was flying one that measured 20 by 38 feet, a baby compared to the 47 by 82 feet one that he flies on holidays. After a neighbor complained about the all-night flapping of Demski’s flags, he spent a year and $14,000 defending his right, noisy or no, to fly the colors.

He would prefer to have a 300-foot pole, though his neighbors and the city have proved considerably less enthused than he about the idea. Even a pole so towering wouldn’t quite host Demski’s “Superflags.” His two previous ones have been featured at major sporting events, making it handy that one is the size of a football field.

And then there’s Superflag 3, which lies rolled and coiled like the ultimate “Don’t-Tread-on-Me” snake, in a trailer parked on the street by his house. Demski hasn’t been able to see it unfurled since he took possession of it on Flag Day a year ago. That’s the problem when you have the Guinness Book of World Records-certified world’s largest flag: It’s darn hard to show it to anyone. Demski does take some pleasure in describing it, though.

“It weighs 3,000 pounds. The stars are 16 feet. The stripes measure 19.6 feet. There’s 5 1/2 miles of five-foot wide rolls of 100% government-specification nylon flag bunting. It’s double-double stitched, incorporating 60,000 miles of thread. It’s nearly three football fields in size. It is stored and transported in this specially designed Airstream trailer. . .” he began.

Demski scarcely has to tell people his address. Once you’re in the vicinity of his corner at 4th Street and Lime Avenue you can’t miss his 132-foot landmark. The pole has the words “The Pole” painted on it, a truth one could certainly hold to be self-evident.

It also is a reference to Demski’s Polish heritage. His house, an aged converted four-plex, also boasts similar signage, as well as painted-on bunting and a spread-eagled eagle. Powerful lights mounted to the building illuminate his flag at night.

Along with the highly illustrated trailer parked on the street, Demski has a fire engine at another location and a garage next to the house with a Cadillac Fleetwood, an ambulance and a hearse decorated in various shades of Old Glory. He also has a customized motor scooter that he recently rode to lead off the Long Beach Memorial Day parade. At such appearances he usually has his blue macaw Peppy--”my Polish eagle”--perched on his shoulder.

That’s one of a dozen or so birds that live with Demski. The floor of the much-lived-in office in his home is carpeted with their nut shells and chewed bits of dried peppers. The other decor includes commendations from various veterans groups (Demski wasn’t in the service, but hosts Veterans Day ceremonies), newspaper clippings of his civic battles--including a run for Long Beach mayor in which he netted 3,000 votes) and samples of the reflective Mylar bumper stickers he personally manufactures in-house and sells by mail. Most are 12-step-program-themed, and Demski is himself a longtime recovering alcoholic.

Whether rattling city government, parading with a parrot, dressing as Santa (his flagpole becomes a huge tree at Christmas) or setting world records, Demski has an ability for making things happen that far outstrips his interest in philosophizing about his actions.

Ask him “Why?” on any of his endeavors and his typical answer is, “Aww, I just do it. I’m a character I guess.”

On Monday, Flag Day, he’ll get a chance to see Superflag 3 in its sprawling entirety. He and a friend are driving the trailer to Washington, D.C., where he has arranged a ceremony in which his stars and stripes will be spread out over the south lawn of the Washington Monument. Demski only got approval late last month from the Department of the Interior to hold the event, and he’s been scrambling to pull it together. He estimates it’s costing him $10,000, relying in part on his credit cards.

Demski needs to rope off the area, provide a sound system, set up a video crew and direct any number of other details from a rented 40-foot cherry picker. As of this writing he had arranged for eight members of the Old Guard (the crack ceremonial team that does duty at Arlington Cemetery) to help him with the Superflag.

Just how many people will it take to unfurl it, Ski?

“Oh, about 500,” he calmly replied. He’s pretty sure someone in Washington will come up with the 492 other troops he needs.

The flag measures 255 by 505 feet. One day a while back Demski was looking up the dimensions of Washington, D.C.’s Great American Flag in the Guinness Book, as I’m sure we all do from time to time.

“Lo and behold, I found that in 1989, China outdid that American flag,” he recalled. “Theirs was 413 by 283, and that came to 113,000 square feet. Then after talking to myself a couple of weeks I decided to have this flag commissioned--it comes to 128,775 square feet--to knock China out of the book.”

Demski doesn’t consider himself to be a patriot.

“A lot of people say that about me, but I don’t. I think I’m just like the next guy.

To him the flag means “our great nation, freedom, et cetera.” He doesn’t have any expectations of what others will get out of his flag displays.

“I’m not trying to have any effect on people. To each his own. If someone don’t like the flag there’s nothing I can do about it.” A friend recently noted to him that it’s legal to burn the flag. “He said, ‘Wouldn’t it be awful, Ski, if someone tried to burn it in Washington?’ At the time I was working to get 600 Marines to help with it, and said, ‘I think they’d have a hell of a time with 600 Marines around.’ ”

Demski describes himself as a political independent. He’s had Orange County conservative talk show host Wally George officiate at one of his Flag Day ceremonies at the pole, but only because George waves the flag, not because Demski agrees with his views. He’s a lifelong union man, first in John L. Lewis’ United Mine Workers when he was 16 in his hometown of Nanticoke, Penn., and then in the Operating Engineers union, to which he still belongs. When Newspaper Guild members picketed a local paper recently, he supported them by showing up and blaring polka music from one of his flag-mobiles.

In his mayoral run, he says he was seeking, “police, crosswalks, better lighting, things like that.” He supported Perot in the national election. “Then when he screwed up I made my place the anti -Perot headquarters. Then when he spoke at that first debate I had to go back with him, and campaigned for him,” he said.

For the Flag Day ceremony in Washington he’s invited a couple of congressmen, as well as President Clinton. He was told the President’s scheduling doesn’t permit him to attend. Demski’s not disappointed. “I figure if I did have him there, there’d be the Secret Service all over the place. It’d screw it up more than it would help me.”

Another party who won’t be attending is his trusty 24-year-old macaw Peppy. Demski said, “It would be too much of an ordeal for him. I’d be scared for his health or of losing him.”

His family of birds started in 1982.

“I think that’s when I got my first one--Mike,” Demski said.

Is Mike the one here that bites?

“No, Mike’s the one inside the pole. Mike died.”

Mike and another departed parrot are interred in the 132-foot pole. Demski recently has been seeking city permission to wind up there himself when he goes. Asked if he’s serious about wanting to be buried in a flagpole, Demski matter-of-factly said, “Yeah. I got a guy in there already.”

Indeed, the concrete-sealed ashes of one U.S. Air Force Col. Clem Maloney, a friend of Demski’s, have been residing in the pole since 1990. But it turns out that even in the shadow of the Stars and Stripes, one isn’t free to do as one might choose. It isn’t quite legal to be buried, even when cremated, in a flagpole, so Demski has been working to have the pole declared a cemetery or recognized as a religious shrine.

Demski is in no particular rush to take up residence in the pole, and that grave undertaking has taken a back seat to his Flag Day event. He seemed blase when first asked nearly two weeks ago if he was excited about finally getting to see what his Superflag looks like unfurled.

“Eh, it looks like a flag,” he said then.

As Flag Day approaches, though, his mood has started to shift.

“I’m just tickled to death to be unfurling it for the first time like this. And what greater place could I do it than in front of the Washington Monument? It’s a real honor for me.”