By Cindy J. Roth
A lifeguard at the beach that shares his name for 57 years, Jones will again take the annual lifeguard test May 18 for the upcoming summer season. Many of his life's greatest memories are wrapped up in his work. With even a simple question, Jones immediately embarks on a discourse as lavish as if he were man whose been out to sea for several years, returning to regale land lubbers with tales of his voyage.
The Bellmore senior, who grew up in Baldwin, first applied to become a lifeguard at Jones Beach when he was 17 years old. It was the only way for him to escape working at his father's Baldwin gas station, the old Sinclair's on Merrick Road, where he was treated more like an indentured servant than a summer employee.
Jones went through three vigorous weeks of tryouts in which he had to swim and run distances under certain time limits. Potential lifeguards were also tested for strength and were required to drag items out of the water under deadline. The three long weeks of grueling tryouts paid off as Jones made the cut in 1944 and started his lifeguarding career, earning 44 cents an hour and wearing a woolen bathing suit, which most resembles a modern-day men's wrestling uniform.
It was the best job a kid could have, said Jones.
Not surprisingly, Jones met his wife, Bette, at the beach. Bette was a cashier at one of the snack counters in 1948. She was 17 years old and Jones was 21. Jones jokes that he tried to get some free food from her, but Bette refused.
She was the first girl I met with some moral fiber, said Jones.
The two were married in 1950 and had three sons, two of whom are now Town of Hempstead lifeguards.
Jones, a retired physical-education teacher who still referees high-school and college wrestling, said much has changed at the beach during his tenure. The most noticeable difference, without a doubt, is what the women wear, or to be more exact, don't wear, said Jones.
They're wearing dental floss now and calling them bathing suits! said Jones, who quickly added that he wasn't complaining.
When Jones first took the chair, lifeguard stands were not equipped with telephones. Lifeguards had to use flags to communicate. Different combinations of flag colors, movements and directions spelled out different terms. The first word Jones learned was L-U-N-C-H. Jones said now lifeguards sit for an hour and are off for an hour, which helps to keep the mind fresh. But in his earlier years, it was not uncommon for a lifeguard to man a tower for three to four hours at a time without a break.
Other changes Jones has seen include the increase in number of lifeguards the beach employs. There used to be about 400 workers, and now Jones Beach averages around 600 a summer. The mix of employees is different as well. When Jones first started, there were no women or minority lifeguards. Now, a third of the lifeguards employed at Jones Beach are women, and there is also a better blend of racial and ethnic backgrounds. The pay has also increased significantly, up to $11 an hour.
While lifeguarding is a great job for anyone who loves the beach and water, Jones said it can sometimes be thankless.
Most people don't thank you for the rescue because they are tired and embarrassed, said Jones, who estimates he's rescued about 1,000 people over the past 57 years.
What keeps the job interesting for Jones are the rescues he's performed, which include several sets of dentures and a barrel containing 500 gallons of rum.
This one guy came up to me and said he lost his teeth, said Jones, as he switches to his storytelling mode. He said he lost them in the ocean, and he wanted me find them. So, I went for a swim and brushed my hand on the bottom of he ocean, and I actually found them on the sea bottom!
As the 2002 beach season is set to begin on Memorial Day weekend, Jones took his annual lifeguard renewal exam last weekend. To make the cut and serve his 58th year as a lifeguard, Jones must swim 100 yards in less than 75 seconds.
You miss it by a second and you lose your job, said Jones. They don't give you a break. You've got to be able to pull people out of the ocean.
Jones was not too worried. The senior, whose body is sculpted to the degree of a man half his age, trains at the Freeport Recreation Center year-round, running, swimming and lifting weights.
When reached after the exam, Jones said he had passed, logging his best swim time in a decade -- 100 yardss in one minute, 14 seconds.
I just outlive the competition, said Jones. I'll be doing this until I die.
