Jerome Gavin, Chicago lifeguard who imbued pride in public service to generations of young people, dies at 76

During his decades long career as a lifeguard in charge of several public beaches in Rogers Park, Jerry Gavin — known affectionately as "Uncle Jerry" — inspired dozens of high school and college kids working summer jobs to ultimately pursue a life in public service.

"I absolutely 100% fell in love with being a first responder because of of Uncle Jerry," said Peggy Benz, a Chicago police officer and former lifeguard.

"He'd say 'No rescue is perfect but you doing what you do, and having the heart you do, you're going to get it done," she recalled.

Mr. Gavin had a tough, fair and loving management style that allowed mistakes to become life lessons.

Benz said one such occasion arose when, after receiving a promotion, she was about to stick a young lifeguard under her charge with an unwanted duty for the day as punishment for being late to work.

"Then Jerry asked me 'Did you ask why he was late?' ... and I hadn't. It turned out he had a parent who'd just suffered a heart attack. That taught me something about judgment and dignity and respect, and that stayed with me," Benz said.

Mr. Gavin died Sept. 1. following complications from strokes he'd suffered. He was 76.

Chris Serb, a deputy district chief with the Chicago Fire Department, was a young lifeguard in 1999 when several swimmers, including two kids, were being slammed into a wooden pier by big waves on a windy day and needed help.

He hesitated for just a moment at the waterfront.

"Waves were breaking over their heads, they were bloodied and screaming ... and that's when Jerry ran past me and plunged into the water and started swimming toward the madness," Serb said. "That was the kick in the ass I needed. I followed him in, and the other guards followed me. And we saved all those swimmers."

Mr. Gavin was born July 20, 1949 and grew up near the lakefront in Rogers Park. He came up as a junior lifeguard under the legendary Sam Leone, who created a crack squad of guards along the city's northern shoreline and left his mark by modernizing training techniques and equipment.

"Jerry told me when Sam raised his voice everybody listened, and that carried on with Jerry, when he yelled, people moved. You could hear Jerry from a couple blocks away," Serb said.

"You get some riffraff at the beach sometimes, people drinking, being unruly, but they would listen to Jerry. He just had that demeanor," he said.

Mr. Gavin worked seven days a week while the beaches were open in the summer — evenings on weekdays and days on weekends.

That was in addition to his regular job.

He also worked as a federal law enforcement agent with the Office of the Inspector General at the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, where part of his mission was combating the drug trade in the city's projects.

Mr. Gavin did admininstrative work from the office of the lifeguard station at Touhy Avenue Beach, but he preferred the chair on the porch where he could scan the waterfront, and talk to lifeguards as they came and went. Conversation was often carried out with little eye contact — the focus was always the water.

"A lot of the lifeguards were young people, ages 16 to 25, so to go out and keep an eye on families and children and babies, that's a big job, but he expected the same out of everybody," said Rob O'Connor, a former lifeguard.

"He pad a passion for it, and a firm but gentle way, and left wherever he was in a better state than he found it," O'Connor said.

Mr. Gavin held leadership roles in the United States Lifesaving Association and taught thousands of Chicago lifeguards Red Cross lifesaving courses.

He went to Loyola Academy and John Carroll University, where he met his wife, Margaret, in a criminology class because the seating chart was arranged in alphabetical order and they sat next to each other.

Mr. Gavin retired in 2005 at the age of 55 and learned to play the bagpipes and joined the The Bagpipes and Drums of the Emerald Society.

He raised his family in Edison Park and was a longtime member of St. Juliana Parish.

His wife and daughters would occasionally join him at the beach on weekends.

He used to sing Irish lullabies to his daughters when they were little, his wife said.

Mr. Gavin also loved taking his grandchildren to Chicago museums. He even taught one of them to hail a cab at age 3, his wife said.

In addition to his wife, Mr. Gavin is survived by his daughters Colleen Crotty and Bridget Davis, as well as six grandchildren. Another daughter, Kathryn Gavin, died from cystic fibrosis in 1993.

Services have been held.