Hermosa salutes city treasurer

Local dignitaries, friends and family filled much of the large Community Center playhouse to say goodbye to longtime City Treasurer John Workman, who died of an apparent heart attack at age 73, just three days after he lost a reelection bid.

Workman’s body lay within a stately casket surrounded by wreaths and flowers, while he was eulogized as a faithful city servant, a dedicated volunteer whose efforts made him a Chamber of Commerce man of the year, a kind friend and a loving husband, father and grandfather.

Friends and family recalled Workman the entertainer, who as a youth sang Christmas carols with the Smothers Brothers at the family home in Redondo Beach, and then played piano on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” and used a warm wit and deft delivery to become a popular emcee at Hermosa civic events.

In the 1950s Workman played keyboards in small combos, often featuring Danny MacNamara on sax, and in one of those bands appeared on the popular nationwide “Sullivan” variety TV show.

During the decade he played school dances, private parties in Beverly Hills, and once with his band mates drove a car onto the Manhattan Beach Pier and unloaded a piano for a dance at the Roundhouse.

While he was attending Redondo Union High School he played with fellow Sea Hawks Dick and Tommy Smothers at holiday gatherings in an instrument-filled family room at his parents’ house on Helberta Avenue, just north of the school.

Niece Sandra Workman Smith set the tone for the Saturday morning memorial service, saying her uncle “was not a stuffy man. This will not be a stuffy event.”

Workman’s wife of 50 years, Mary Ellen Workman, told of meeting the love of her life decades ago.

“I think I fell in love with him before he ever asked me out. He smelled so darn good. He looked good, too,” she said.

“He was my Johnny,” she said.

Workman was so interested in others that his wife knew all about the people who crossed paths with him, even if she never met them.

“I would know all your names. I would know all your stories. I’d know your sorrows and your triumphs,” she said.

“He was our Johnny,” she said.

Mary Ellen revealed that Workman’s easy comic delivery before audiences was carefully honed at home.

“He would practice all these stupid jokes for hours, and sometimes I was the butt of those jokes, as all of you know,” she said.

“He was everyone’s funny Johnny,” she said.

She recalled how her husband “looked like a kid at Toys R Us” when he was working an investment for the family.

“He would say ‘Hey Mar, I need $40,000, I’ve got a good deal going.”

And she recalled fondly the way her husband doted on her.

“I’ve never pumped my own gas,” she said.

Workman’s attentions to his wife were noted by her friends.

“They would say, ‘You’re so spoiled, he treats you like a queen.’ I’d say ‘Sorry girls, he’s all mine.’”

She described her husband as “caring, generous, available, smart, a big teddy bear.”

“He was our Johnny, and we are going to miss him,” she said.

Les Thompson, Workman’s son-in-law for 30 years, said he enjoyed Workman’s “never ending list of one-liners.”

Daughter Sharon Workman Thompson said her father spoke glowingly of the best aspects of others, and never cast anyone in a bad light.

“He always talked about you guys,” she said. “…He never said anything negative.”

Her father came to her rescue time and again after she attempted home improvement projects and invariably wound up breaking something. He made her gifts of toolboxes with whatever she had been lacking to do the job.

Daughter Lisa Workman recalled her dad hiring her for her first job, at Triangle Hardware, where she became bookkeeper, working there from 1978 until 1989, when he sold the business.

She used to listen as her dad gave customers unorthodox but effective home repair advice involving duct tape and bungee cords. Nearby, a couple of bungee cords hung from a railing on her father’s casket to commemorate his rough and ready fix-it approach.

“I heard stories I never heard at home, and I heard jokes I probably shouldn’t have heard at all,” she said.

“He thought he gave me my first job. In truth he gave me a piece of who he was,” she said.

Son Joe Workman struck a reverential tone.

“My hero did not wear a cape,” he said. “My hero wore a flannel shirt.”

Samantha Edwards, Workman’s youngest grandchild, spoke of her grandfather’s love of a family vacation home in the Southern California desert and his informality.

“Papa loves his desert house. He wears his flannel shirt and underwear…He fixed everything with bungee cords and duct tape,” she said.

Redondo Beach City Treasurer Ernie O’Dell said Workman’s spirit “lives on in all of our hearts.”

Longtime Hermosa City Clerk Elaine Doerfling, a friend of Workman since the 1970s, told of one of the many small things Workman did for others.

Shortly after mentioning that her lawn sprinkler system was broken, she woke up on Saturday morning to find a muddy Workman working quietly on the sprinklers, intending to finish before his friend awoke and slip away like a sprinkler elf.

“He was always jumping in to help others,” she said.

Former Hermosa Councilman Art Yoon recalled a time after his election, when Workman made a forthright admission that he did not cast his own vote for Yoon. A couple years later, Workman told Yoon he was doing a good job.

“That meant more to me than anything anyone else said,” Yoon recalled.

Redondo Councilman Pat Aust recalled Workman’s discussion of “the moral compass,” with four points representing the easy way, the popular way, the political way and the right way.

Granddaughter Lauren Thompson turned to the casket and tearfully thanked her grandfather for all he had given her.

She told the assemblage of the last time she saw her grandfather on this earth, and his affectionate use of a mildly profane nickname.

“His last words to me – pardon my French – “I love you, Dipshit.”

She turned again to the casket.

“I love you too Papa,” she said.

Workman died on the morning of Friday, Nov. 11. A little over a week before that, he had been hospitalized for three days for what appeared to be stress-related symptoms.

He was born in Red Oak, Iowa, moved to the South Bay in 1941, and graduated from Redondo Union in 1956.

He moved to Hermosa in 1968, and in 1993 began an 18-year run as city treasurer.

Workman ran unopposed for reelection in all but two city elections, losing for the first time last week. During his tenure, he turned down every pay raise the City Council offered, and paid his own costs to attend treasurers’ conferences and workshops.

Workman was a Rotarian for 33 years and delivered Meals on Wheels for the Salvation Army for over 10 years while caring for his invalid mother, Eva.

He served on boards of organizations including the Salvation Army, Beach Cities Health District, Hermosa Beach Sister Cities, South Bay Credit Union and Hermosa Beach Chamber of Commerce, and was named Man of the Year in 1989.

Workman was preceded in death by his parents, Gerald and Eva Workman, and brothers William and Joseph.

He is survived by wife Mary Ellen Workman, daughters Sharon (Les) Thompson of Hermosa Beach and Lisa (James) Edwards of Yucca Valley, and son Joseph (Jennifer) of Torrance.

He also leaves behind niece Sandy Smith (Steve) of New York, nephews Chip (Renee) Workman of San Pedro, and Greg (Dee) Salino of Inglewood, grandchildren Shannon and Lauren Thompson, Ashley, Samantha and Joseph Edwards, and Sara Merrill.