The newest arrival among his eight grandkids, Jen’s wide-blue-eyed, 11-month-old son Elijah, has recently begun sounding out “Opa,” the Dutch term of endearment for grandfathers, much to Lee’s delight.

Pondering the future

Each spring, at the Jones Beach “rehire,” Hahn must swim 100 yards in under 1 minute, 20 seconds, and run a quarter-mile in under 2:10 to continue his summer employment. The run has never been a problem, but each year he worries more about the swim, despite his regular workouts at the Freeport Recreation Center. Swimming fast is hard work, and he is well aware that the end of his lifeguarding career is somewhere on the horizon, near or distant.

Six years ago, doctors discovered that his heart was beating too slowly — fewer than 30 pulses per minute when he was asleep — and implanted a pacemaker. In recent years he has developed Dupuytren’s contracture in his hands, which prevents him from fully extending some of his fingers. The last thing he needs, he acknowledges, is more time in the sun, and he is pre-diabetic, and must try his best to limit his consumption of one of his favorite things in life, sugar.

On the beach, however, he is in his element, making sure guards are doing their jobs, barking orders when necessary but mostly managing Field 5 in a conversational tone, a playful, calming influence in an often stressful environment. “I trust him so much with everything that goes on down here,” Curtin says. “He has the knowledge, the skills and the judgment.”

“I would like to work here as long as I can,” Hahn says. “This is a great time in my life. And this,” he adds, gesturing to the ocean in front of him, “is a big part of it.”