Airport Issues

Can Long Beach Airport reform its bad-boy image?

Stroll along a particular stretch of Long Beach Municipal Airport's southern border — Spring Street near the San Diego freeway — and you'll see the clear signs of the airport's long and difficult decay. Weeds sprout in unkempt parking lots. Rickety World War II-era buildings remain condemned but still standing. Everywhere are images of decline. Apply some imagination and it's possible to see the greatness and prosperity that once was within Long Beach's grasp — runways filled with nearly new airplanes, thriving small businesses, economic forecast charts with an upward swing.

That Long Beach Airport has fallen from greatness in the last decade is no news to the locals, who have seen activity fall; airlines come and go; businesses arrive, struggle, and fail; and perhaps at the root of it all, controversial noise and number-of-flight regulations implemented, expanded, argued, and litigated. The number of based aircraft fell from a high of more than 1,100 in the late 1970s to less than half that in 1990.

Yet there still are signs of life. From Spring Street, extend your focus across Runway 25 Left and you'll see Toyota Aviation's shiny new fixed-base operation, AirFlite, gleaming over the western edge of the 1,100-plus acres that make up Daugherty Field. On the ramp and in the community hangar, Gulfstreams reside winglet-to- nacelle with Falcons, amid a mix of high-end general aviation aircraft. Behind AirFlite is McDonnell Douglas' mammoth C-17 manufacturing facility; it dominates the skyline of the airport, as the MD-80 and MD-11 facilities lining the northern border have for more than two decades. Maintenance facilities for both Gulfstream and Cessna Citation are located here, and FlightSafety International keeps a slew of simulators humming nearly around the clock.

Even the most enthusiastic will admit that it's been a rough few years for the airport. Since its beginnings in 1923 at the corner of Spring and Cherry streets in oil-rich and booming Long Beach, the facility has seemed to hold out all the possibilities of a healthy state economy drawing from a constant influx of people and commerce. From its original 150 acres, the airport grew to some 500 acres in 1941, and to near its present size of 1,166 acres in 1965. By the mid-1960s the current runway layout came into being, with five asphalt and concrete runways, the largest being 10,000 feet long. With three instrument approaches, a modern control tower, and excellent approach-control services, Long Beach represents one of the finest facilities in the Los Angeles basin. And even with more general-aviation traffic than any of the other Los Angeles-basin airports, it remains substantially underutilized.

Which explains why the message out of the airport management's office these days is peppered like a Jalapeno-lover's pantry with the word "revitalization." Put simply, the airport has been smarting long enough from a bad reputation among pilots — unfriendly to those with marginally loud airplanes, home to fine- imposing bureaucrats gleefully enforcing outrageously stringent noise limits. "In my charter days, we used to call this place Wrong Beach," says Glenn Ray, general manager of the Million Air FBO on the field.

Things are changing, we're told, because they have to. Airport Manager Chris Kunze says flatly, "Our business was going way down, real fast. And let me make this point: We operate a business here. Then, the community said, 'We need to address the economy. We have infrastructure in place; we don't have to do anything but turn the key.'"

The sentiment from the city government was clear: Make the airport viable and work with the tenants and neighbors as partners, not adversaries — an order more easily proposed than fulfilled. At least this new attitude represents a turnaround from those of previous city councils, who had to soothe the nerves of residents at the airport boundary who feared that sleepy little Long Beach Airport would somehow become the next Los Angeles International.

Primary among the airport management's tools for overcoming a bad reputation — at least among pilots — is a newly approved, revised set of noise standards. The new limits ease restrictions for an hour at each end of the day. Noise limits between 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. and 10 p.m. and 11 p.m. have been raised from 79 dB SENEL (single event noise exposure level) to 90 dB from Runway 30/12. The normal daytime limits remain as high as 102.5 dB for departures on Runway 30. The nighttime (after 11 p.m.) limit of 79 dB remains but is in effect for two fewer hours each day. Other limits have been juggled and eased slightly. And while the relaxation of these restrictions hardly represents an opening of the floodgates, most local pilots see the changes as a good thing. "At least they're doing something positive. It's been a long time coming," said one resident Cessna owner. According to the airport management, in one month during the new transition period, there occurred some 45 "legal" operations that would have been violations before.

How the airport arrived in such a noise-dispute mess is an interesting, albeit convoluted, story. According to Kunze, "The first documented noise problem started in the mid-1960s and pretty much revolved around jet aircraft. At the time, we had extended the runways for the DC-8s, and that started the problem." Those early straight jets ushered in not only vastly improved air travel, but Sasquatch-like noise footprints, as well. Neighbors began to complain. Adds Kunze, "During the 1970s, the city dealt with the problem through leases, limiting the number of flights available to the airlines."

Still the neighbors complained. Then, by 1979, the hollering had reached the ears of council members sympathetic to the cause. A task force was appointed to look at the noise problem in depth. This panel of 21 individuals came up with a proposal that limited the SENELs and called for a gradual phase-out of Stage II airline and business aircraft. Also, according to Kunze, "[the proposal] charged us with coming up with appropriate noise limits and implementing a system to measure noise. In 1982, the airport put in a sophisticated noise monitoring system." Today, that system has been expanded to include 14 remote microphones scattered around the community adjacent to the airport, as well as four stations on airport property. They are linked to a computer system that also employs a passive radar system (similar in concept to passive TCAS) that can track individual aircraft and correlate noise measurements from the sensors. A connection with Sothern California Tracon permits easy identification of aircraft registration for IFR flights.

The task force proposal also contained the recommendation that daily airline flights be limited to 15. At the time that this proposal was to be implemented, only Pacific Southwest Airlines (PSA) served Long Beach, and it had just three flights a day. But the age of airline deregulation was upon us, and competing airlines vied for any and all open slots at the airport. Any new airlines wanting to serve the airport would have to negotiate for the existing slots. Eventually, Alaska Airlines filed suit to keep from losing any of its slots.

Through various hearings, the airport was ordered to stop taking flights away from airlines already serving the field, so the flight limits grew to 18 and then to 26 flights. The city then undertook a two-year noise and compatibility study under FAR Part 150. After 44 meetings of a Part 150 task force (which included representatives from most interests on the field), a 1,200-page document spewed forth, upping the maximum number of flights to 41.

Resistance from the residents of nearby Signal Hill, located in the noise footprint of Runway 25L, complained loudly enough to dash a part of the proposal that called for airline departures from that runway. The number then fell to 32 flights a day. At that point, according to Kunze, "The airlines screamed. They had bought into the 41 flights. They took [the city] to court, calling for an immediate approval of some 50 or 60 flights a day." Simultaneously, the airport was sued for $160 million in damages by homeowner groups representing some 1,600 homeowners affected by airport noise. The airport eventually won that battle.

Still, the airline access issue dragged on. By 1987, the debate was in the courts, where the flight limits were invalidated by a judge who said that the city had not adequately examined the economic and interstate-commerce impact of the noise regulations. The airport appealed, and yet another judge ruled that it was within the city's rights to create and enforce noise regulations as long as they were "reasonable."

But what steamed local general aviation most was an interim noise ordinance that had been introduced in 1989. It was meant to be a stop-gap measure that would take effect while the entire noise issue was still in the courts. In part, the interim ordinance came from the recommendations in the Part 150 study, and called for the 79 dB SENEL during nighttime hours and generally more strict daytime limits. It also called for a ban on Stage II business jets, waived if it could be proven that the jet was as quiet as an equivalent-weight Stage III airplane. In addition, a fee schedule was set up to enforce the limits: the first two noise busts were free, the third cost $100, and subsequent violations ran $300 each. What's more, these noise busts remained on the airplane's "permanent record," as your junior-high principal used to say. With these low limits, the airport was effectively shut down to all but the most quiet airplanes between 11 p.m. and 7 a.m.

By the end of the 1980s, the airport's image had sunk to cricket height in the minds of most pilots, and there was no hope in sight. Many pilots relocated airplanes to other airports; still others gave up the endeavor altogether. Tiedown spots, once in great demand, were suddenly abundant. What had been a years-long wait for hangar space turned into a "move in today" proposition.

Finally, by May of this year, the airline lawsuit came to settlement; and as part of that, the number of airline flights was raised to 41 daily. The revised noise standards were imposed, and a task force made up of local business people was formed to make direct contact with noise-limits scofflaws. An additional change wipes clean the record of noise busts once a year — so, in essence, pilots get two busts each a year without any fiscal penalty.

During the period just prior to the settlement, airport management met with local businesses to determine the best ways of revitalizing the airport. Indeed, all of the management's paperwork refers to revitalization — keeping the sensitivities of the local homeowners in mind, there's no mention of expansion. At the same time, the airport reduced fuel flowage fees by some 30 percent, put a stop to increases in the various airport fees to businesses, and reduced operating costs by nearly 20 percent.

Is the airport management's change in attitude enough to spur the revitalization and bring Long Beach back from the brink? Opinions vary, of course, but the majority of the business people remain optimistic.

According to William Tonic, owner and chief pilot of Surface- to-Air, a flight school at Long Beach airport, "The past noise limits have never posed a particular problem for us. It's always been our policy to fly safely and quietly within the limits. However, the new noise limits are one positive step in the right direction — and go hand-in-hand with the airport management's well-publicized revitalization plans."

Tommy Walker, general manager of AirFlite, says, "The settlement of the noise issue is a big step; it gets us out of the limbo stage. Now we can get to work attracting businesses to the airport without having to buck a bad image. I know that the local government is dedicated to making this airport work; but it will take time for business, the airlines, and general aviation to accept the new attitude."

Glenn Ray, general manager of Million Air, says, "I think what the airport administration has done so far in fostering business is encouraging." Ray points out that the airport has been among the few airports represented during the last three years at the National Business Aircraft Association convention. "And I think that's indicative of their willingness to do whatever it takes. This is a GA airport, at the heart. I'm biased in favor of growing that end of the market; however, I recognize that business begets business. So, if the city concentrates on promoting the city — as a place for business and tourism — all of us at the airport will benefit."

Don Hart, owner of Hart Air, a flight school catering to aerobatic instruction and emergency-maneuvers training, generally agrees. "The airport is built upon business more than anything else. If you have successful businesses, you are going to have a successful community," Hart says. "I think the airport has not had a very friendly business climate and has been driven by decisions downtown." In spite of new rules, Hart is not thrilled with many of the new noise restrictions. "The noise thing continues. We've spent the money on a noise-monitoring system, in essence, to accommodate a small percentage of the residents of the city. And that accommodation of those few really affects the entire city from the standpoint of financial loss. The old noise ordinance did drive business out of here." Primarily, Hart says, you have to seek a balance. "We need to get the airlines back. The airport needs a balanced community of aviation, and we can support it."

Conversations with other business people on the field reveal much the same train of thought. But, say those trying to make a living on Long Beach airport, there is still a long way to go; and until the California economy picks up, there's no guarantee that any of this revitalization talk will amount to a better (or even non-red) bottom line.

There are myriad lessons to be learned from Long Beach's struggles. First, those charged with running the airport must take noise complaints seriously. The residents won't roll up their tents and go away. But there also has to be some common sense applied to the way in which we operate from such urban landscapes. We can't choke off the flights to the point of strangling the airport as a business — one which, with the right nurturing, could well provide a substantial return to the city or county that presides over it. Current statistics show that every airline flight into Long Beach provides more than $6 million a year to the local economy.

Long Beach airport manager Kunze, echoing the thoughts of most business owners on the field, is hopeful that the worst has come and gone for the airport. Indeed, plans for revitalization of what is known as parcel J, the weed-infested, lopsided-hangar corner of the airport, are set to be implemented soon. A new general-aviation-only terminal with additional tiedown spots and hangars will someday replace rotted buildings and a shabby image. Order, one step at a time, may yet come to a large and potentially thriving urban airport.