San Diego plans to remove fire pits like this one on Ski Beach, to save money. Opponents of the plan say part of the city’s soul will be extinguished as well.
By RANDAL C. ARCHIBOLD
NY Times Published: December 27, 2009
SAN DIEGO — Families, students, newlyweds, mourners — beachgoers of all sorts — toast themselves and marshmallows around blazing fires in pits that dot beaches and shoreline parks here.
“In a city this big,” said Steve West, stoking the flames of his fire one recent evening, “this is what makes a place like this special.”
Now, throw another log on the bonfire of budget casualties. San Diego officials have decided to remove the fire pits — and, their partisans lament, a slice of the city’s soul as well — to help close a $179 million budget deficit.
When it comes to beach culture, San Diego has long prided itself on being just a little different from other towns, especially the big ones up north that hog all the attention.
You can no longer drink alcohol on the beach here (it was banned last year) or smoke (snuffed three years ago). But the fire pits, though gradually diminished from 450 in the early 1990s to 186 now, remain embedded in the sand and the local culture.
“Bonfire, surfing, I grew up doing that,” said John Johnston, 48, as he stewed over the city’s plans by a fire with a few fishing buddies.
The city, which says it spends about $121,000 a year cleaning and maintaining the pits, has also trimmed library hours, scheduled 200 layoffs and made other cuts. But the prospect of extinguishing a beloved tradition has ignited some of the loudest passion.
A Facebook cause with more than 4,000 members has emerged. A Web site, Save the Fire Pits of San Diego, is also seeking to rally the faithful. The OB Rag, a blog devoted to the city’s Ocean Beach neighborhood, is trying to galvanize residents to “adopt” the eight or so pits there, the way groups sponsor highway cleanups. And a community group in La Jolla, another section of the city, hopes to raise money to keep all the pits in place.
“What’s it going to be next?” asked Hans Baumgartner, a founder of the fire pits Web site. “They keep saying other cities have done it. We’re not other cities. We’re San Diego.”
Last year’s budget was bad, too, but an anonymous donor came through with money to keep the fire pits in place until next June. The city has received about $1,600 this time around, far short of the amount it says it needs to maintain the pits.
“There is no more low-hanging fruit here,” Stacey LoMedico, the city parks director, said of the decision to remove the pits in July.
The state parks department, suffering its own fiscal woes, also plans to remove fire rings at several beaches, though an informal tally by beachcalifornia.com shows that 29 of 108 state parks with beaches still allow them. Newport Beach, north of here in Orange County, backed off a plan last year after a public outcry similar to the one here.
But so far, the City of San Diego is not budging. Ms. LoMedico called removing the fire pits a “very tough decision” but noted that people could still bring their own grills to the beaches, something veteran roasters say is just not the same as a blaze in the 5-foot-by-5-foot, 15-inch-deep pits.
Cleaning the pits, she said, is a meticulous and labor-intensive job, in part because the sand sullied by the fires is deemed hazardous waste. Every week, a front-loader lifts the 2,000-pound pit casings, workers scrape and scrub off the sand and carry off the after-party detritus — charred wood, broken glass, partly cooked meat, trash. One longtime beach observer said he once saw a couch aflame in a pit.
The pits, Ms. LoMedico said, are simply a low priority in a city stuck in economic doldrums.
Aside from the recession, which has dampened the housing market and tourism and the tax dollars they spawn, the city is still coping with the aftershock of a mismanaged municipal pension fund in the early years of the decade that left its finances in disarray.
As the pits have dwindled, the romanticizing of them seems to grow, but even supporters admit they are not always the source of wholesome fun.
Other cities that have scaled back or gotten rid of their pits have said they present safety problems to passers-by who might trip over them or get burned by leftover embers.
Bonfire parties here can get loud and rowdy, and a few pit supporters said they suspected that the city was using the budget problems as cover for getting rid of an occasional nuisance. The matter may end up before the California Coastal Commission, a state panel with extensive powers over beach use and access that is not always friendly to municipal governments.
The commission sent a letter to San Diego officials advising that the commission might need to issue a permit for the pits to be removed; city officials plan to take up the matter with the commission’s staff members early next month.
The commission, known for lengthy study before rendering decisions, could demand hearings. Some supporters of the fire pits suggest such a public airing of the plan might expose what they consider the city’s inflated cost estimates and failure to consider alternatives to removal, like only cleaning the pits during peak use in the summer.
Regardless of the outcome, some find the whole debate disheartening.
“San Diego,” Mr. Johnston said, “is just much less fun.”
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