Parks that pay their own way

Parks that pay their own way

No longer political orphans of local government

By Kevin Roderick, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer

If Ralph Cryder and his colleagues have their way, Los Angeles and most other urban areas will follow the lesson of Wheeling's rural Oglebay Park, located in rolling hills above the Ohio River.

Oglebay may be the finest city park in the country; it is certainly one of the best designed. Its true distinction, however, is that virtually no tax money is taken from Wheeling's financially pressed residents to run it.

Instead, income from a popular restaurant and lodge, decorated in Appalachian hardwoods and housing large, comfortable public lobbies, provides half the money needed to maintain the zoo, swimming pools, historic buildings, play areas and 1,400 acres of woods. Most of the rest comes from fees and donations sent in by satisfied visitors.

Political Orphans

Without powerful supporters for protection, parks have long been the political orphans of local government. But following Oglebay's lead, some park directors across the country have sought escape from the anguish of unending budget battles with mayors and other politicians by

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opening hotels, amusement parks and cocktail lounges—with profit the driving motive—on lands once reserved for more traditional recreation uses.

"You're finding that more and more because we've been picked on over the years," said Cryder, the director of the Los Angeles County Parks and Recreation Department. Cryder was an early advocate of the innovative entrepreneurial strategy and has made the county a leader in the movement.

Los Angeles County's massive park system, the largest in the country with 72,000 acres of land and 126 parks and lakes, has no chance of becoming self-sustaining. But under Cryder, the county has opened an amusement park, planned a hotel and signed contracts for other commercial activities in its parks. He has emerged as a prime example of the aggressive, cunning public parks manager, and his approach had been adopted by increasing numbers of park executives.

Jobs More Complicated

Once thought of as meek bureaucrats who drew back from the give and take of local politics, park directors have seen their jobs grow more complicated in the past two decades.

Parks have had less money for their programs at the same time that the role local parks play in American life has changed. In Los Angeles, for example, city Recreation and Parks Director James Hadaway said half the city's parks are located within the turfs of various street gangs. This has taken a toll in public support: a study done for his department last year found that half the city's residents avoid parks out of fear.

Local parks, especially in Los Angeles and other Southwestern cities, have also had to cope financially and creatively with new immigrants whose recreation needs often differ from the typical family 20 years ago. Softball fields in a Samoan neighborhood in Carson, for example, were recently converted into Los Angeles County's only cricket greens, and some parks serve visitors who speak only Spanish or Korean.

A park director's most valuable skills no longer involve organizing class schedules and softball leagues, but they may include hardball negotiating and persuading wealthy residents to remember the parks in their wills. The St. Petersburg (Fla.) parks director, figuring he should go to the source, recently arranged workshops to show estate attorneys and accountants how their clients could bequeath gifts more easily.

Many of this new wave of parks executives received their indoctrination at a yearly "revenue school" held here at Oglebay. The school, taught by Cryder and colleagues who have long believed that parks can largely pay their own way, is run under the auspices of North Carolina State University. Hundreds of local park executives have graduated from the school in 20 years.

"That one school has more changed the operation of parks and recreation departments than anything I can think of," said Rick Dodge, director of St. Petersburg's Leisure Services Department. His department makes a profit on golf courses, a 161-room waterfront motel and restaurant, and a pleasure boat marina on Tampa Bay. It also operates at little cost a civic arena, museum of artworks by Salvador Dali, minor-league baseball stadium and spring training facilities for two major league baseball teams.

At a recent session at Oglebay, more than 100 parks systems employees from across the country gazed over the snow-covered hills and listened to lectures on insider techniques for negotiating prices and contracts.

Avoid Calling It Profit

It is at such sessions that the guiding principles of the Oglebay method are ingrained. Students are told to avoid using the word profit, which rattles politicians and riles golfers who complain their fees should be lowered. And they're told to view the parks as a business, not a free service.

"We are in competition with private industry, don't you forget that," Bill Bird, a former land developer who runs the Dade County (Fla.) parks system, told a graduate seminar on the politics of parks.

Using park land for profit-making businesses is antithetical to many in the recreation field. Though many park systems have begun charging fees to play softball or tennis, a rare practice a decade ago, most have eschewed the opening of hotel rooms and lounges serving alcoholic beverages.

The city of Los Angeles has dabbled in such businesses, running the Sunspot motel and restaurant on Pacific Coast Highway in Pacific Palisades and opening an equestrian center, with banquet facilities, in a corner of mountainous Griffith Park. But Recreation Department Director Hadaway said he sees no need for further commercialization.

"I just don't think the public would go for it," said Hadaway, who oversees 150 Los Angeles city parks. Unless financial demands become much greater, he said, "I don't really believe the citizens nor the political leaders of this city are interested in us becoming self-sufficient."

Under Cryder in Los Angeles County, however, more than a third of the $36 million used to operate the department—which maintains 212,000 county-owned trees as well as parks—is now raised through entrepreneurial activities and fees charged to users. The county's 18 golf courses take in more than $6 million, enough to pay for themselves and contribute to other recreation programs as well.

An aquatic amusement park, Raging Waters, opened last year at the county's Bonelli Regional Park near Puddingstone Reservoir in San Dimas, one of nine large re-

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gional parks that cater to all-day visitors, mostly on weekends. The amusement park, featuring several water rides and a dirt-bottom pool with artifically-generated waves, is privately run by operators who will pay the county an estimated $300,000 this year.

Other Fees Charged

The water park, which charged patrons $8 a day last summer, replaced a regular pool where swimmers had been charged only 50 cents. The Raging Waters developers put in a new pavilion and snack bar and built attractive rides that drew more than 400,000 visitors last year. Attendance at the old swimming pool had been dropping and was only 165,000 in its last year of operation.

Income from Raging Waters is combined with a $2 fee for entrance to Bonelli and fees on boat and camper spaces to provide a substantial share of the $1.3 million needed to run Bonelli park for a year, Cryder said.

Pan-Pacific Auditorium, a decrepit though architecturally distinctive arena and concert hall near Farmer's Market in an unincorporated county island within Los Angeles city, is one of Cryder's most unusual new income projects. The building is scheduled to be gutted and turned into a 142-room hotel and office complex with two theaters.

If approved by the state Legislature, which retains some control because the state is a partner, the complex would pay the county at least $250,000 a year to maintain Pan Pacific Park, a new greenbelt area adjacent to the auditorium. Preservation of the 1930s streamline-style facade would be ensured by the project.

Cryder, 48, came to Los Angeles in 1978 as a longtime believer in parks making money. He arrived the same year that Proposition 13 was approved by California voters, reducing local tax collections for parks and other services. In 1980, a conservative majority that favors business-like approaches to running government operations took over the county Board of Supervisors, and Cryder was encouraged to put his ideas into practice over the opposition of supporters of more traditional park uses.

The board rewarded Cryder with a raise and a $3,500 bonus, and he is looking to expand the county's parks income further by competing more directly for the public's entertainment dollar. He is considering proposals for a major development at Castaic Lake, a large state reservoir north of Los Angeles where the county operates boating and picnic facilities, and has tried (so far unsuccessfully) to convince developers it would be profitable to build a restaurant and lodge at Bonelli park.

In hopes of raising a quick $300,000, the county has made plans to open a temporary 3,000-space recreational vehicle campground at Whittier Narrows Regional Park near El Monte during the Olympic Games in Los Angeles.

After being graduated with a degree in recreation education from Pennsylvania State University in 1957, Cryder worked in recreation departments in New York and New Jersey. In 1966, he became director of the New Castle County (Del.) Recreation and Parks Department, where he became associated with others who believe in aggressive fund-raising for parks.

St. Petersburg's parks system is also run by former New Castle officials. When Dodge became director of leisure services seven years ago, the parks raised only 9 percent of the department's budget. Now the department collects about 63 percent of its $16-million budget from non-tax sources, and a strong marketing program is responsible for a large part of the gain.

Any opportunity to raise money is explored. Non-residents, who lack the political muscle to resist, must pay $25 on top of regular tuition to enroll in classes at St. Petersburg recreation centers, and all classes and most other programs are required to pay for themselves.

Donating products and time is strongly encouraged, and the department has its own cable television program to promote itself.

Residents are given a booklet explaining how easy it is to make donations. A program that encourages people to donate money for planting trees in honor of births, deaths, and weddings has proven very popular with the community.

"It's gotten to where anytime somebody in the family dies, my wife sends off a check for the tree fund," said Jack Lake, publisher of the St. Petersburg Times.

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