Memories Aweigh

Dolores Sturgill wanted what she feared was to be a last look at the faded Long Beach Naval Station, craved a farewell visit to the site of “so many memories.�

Her husband, Edward, however, who retired after 42 years in the Navy, wanted no part of the “Anchors Aweigh� walking tour staged Sunday by Long Beach Heritage and two other groups still hoping to save a slice of the historic base from the wrecking ball.

“He said he could not come down here today. He said it would just break him up,� said Sturgill, who brought her grandsons, Mike Kelser, 14, and his brother Joshua, 7.

Wearing a T-shirt commemorating the adjoining Long Beach Naval Shipyard, where her husband had worked, Sturgill and her grandsons joined the throngs who strolled through the ghostly Roosevelt Base, core of the station.

The visitors--a few sporting Navy caps and shirts that marked them as veterans of this or other bases--took pictures, swapped memories and peered at the Paul R. Williams-designed buildings. Some were seeing the grounds--nestled along the Long Beach Harbor, with glimpses of the city’s downtown skyline--for the first time. But for many more, taking this one opportunity for a brief return since the base closed two years ago, the scene was achingly familiar.

“I used to come shopping down here all the time,� Sturgill said, indicating the former commissary to her grandsons, who had just stopped to add messages to the time capsule that will be placed in a park in honor of the base that once was home to the Pacific Fleet. “And we had so many picnics out there,� she added, pointing in the direction of an arm of land jutting into the harbor.

“I can’t believe they want to tear all this down,� Sturgill lamented.

Neither can Long Beach Heritage and other groups, which are making a last-ditch stand in their two-year campaign to persuade port officials to spare a part of the 500-acre base and shipyard from redevelopment into cargo terminals.

The Long Beach Port Commission is scheduled to decide at 1 p.m. today what to do with the entire parcel. Last week, in a major defeat for preservationists and environmentalists, the Navy recommended a plan that would demolish the whole base, including the 37-acre plot that houses its historic core.

Among the handouts at Sunday’s tour, which featured talks by historians and the distribution of commemorative booklets, was a flier urging people to show up at the meeting and call city officials to lobby for preservation of the historic core.

The preservationists favor a plan that calls for the historic buildings to be saved and recycled as headquarters for the city’s police and fire departments and its Port Commission. The base’s impressive recreational facilities, including a gym, a mammoth swimming pool and a bowling alley, in their park-like setting, could be put to excellent public use, they argue.

“To set aside 37 out of 500 acres doesn’t seem like a lot to ask, given the historic value of these buildings,� said Peter Devereaux, a vice president of Long Beach Heritage.

He stood with a makeshift display under a tree near the start of the walking tour, delivering his pitch to the steady stream of visitors.

Across Pratt Avenue, the base’s main thoroughfare, a sound truck blared recordings of “Anchors Aweigh,� “God Bless America� and “America the Beautiful.� A long line of American flags, provided by Navy veteran Joe Szabo, pointed the way to the first stop on the tour, the two-story Administration Building.

Inside the building, W.L. Shishim, senior chief quartermaster, U.S. Navy retired, made no bones about his views on the base-closing decision. “It’s the worst decision they ever made,� said Shishim, who had been stationed here.

By afternoon’s end, as many as 3,000 people had shown up, estimated Nancy Latimer of Long Beach Heritage.

“People seemed to enjoy themselves. There was a lot of sadness and a lot of anger� at the prospect of the dismantling of the historic base, Latimer said, “but there were lots of memories expressed; people got a chance to see it. And that is what we wanted.�