OCEAN CITY — Joan Gallagher had an intuition about her grandson, Conor Plasha. Years before he decided to join the U.S. Coast Guard and become a rescue swimmer, she knew where he was headed.
Just the fact that almost 30 years earlier his grandmother decided to retire in Ocean City with his grandfather “changed the whole trajectory in my life and showed me my passion for the ocean,” Plasha said about growing up with her on Second Street. “That passion for the ocean is really what has kind of guided me in everything in life.”
As a little kid he spent time in the Northend and Gardens sections of this barrier island, swimming and surfing, loving everything about the ocean. He noticed the bright USCG helicopters overhead.
“I grew up watching what we do now (on the helicopters), so it had always kind of been a thought of mine, just as a little kid looking out there and being like, ‘Wow, that’s really cool.’”
Plasha became a junior lifeguard on the Ocean City Beach Patrol when he was 8 years old and then was a mascot for eight or nine more years. When he turned 17 in 2012, he became an actual lifeguard, joining the OCBP and staying on through the summer of 2019.
As a kid, the thoughts about the Coast Guard were passing. Someone else thought otherwise.
“My grandma, ever since I was little — I don’t know what she knew — but she would cut out articles from any (Coast Guard) rescue, anything in the newspaper and she would give it to me if I was there,” he said. That continued when he was in college and living in Florida.
“She would always say, ‘Someday you’ll be jumping out of a helicopter.’ And that was before I joined the Coast Guard. I don’t know. It was a grandmother’s intuition or something. She would constantly say that, so it had always just been in the back of my mind.”
Still, it was not a straight path.
Plasha tried other things, had other irons in the fire after college, but was dragging his feet, not sure what he wanted to do with his life. At one point he remembered talking to his brother about joining the Jacksonville (Fla.) Fire Rescue Department. The idea looked good to him because that was where he was living.
He called his brother, all excited, telling him what he was going to do, expecting his brother to approve.
“And he was like, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ And he said the same thing (as their grandmother). ‘You were literally born to be a rescue swimmer and do that job.’”
Plasha realized his supportive family was right and that the feeling he had from being a lifeguard made sense. He loved lifeguarding on the OCBP.
“That was my first experience with the rescue part of things and I just fell in love with it, combining my passion of helping people and the ocean,” he said. Smiling, he added, “Just getting to be with my best friends all day and sit on the beach was pretty awesome, too. I still say it’s like the best job ever. I mean, you can’t beat it.”
When he said that in an interview last week at USCG Air Base Atlantic City, he was sitting between pilot Lt. Sabrina Monaco and flight mechanic Adam Timberlake, two of the crew he was with on a recent exercise with OCBP lifeguards. The other two looked at him. All three smiled.
“This is great,” Plasha said about the Coast Guard.
“But your best friends are in a helicopter,” Timberlake interjected.
“Yeah,” Plasha said. “I just fell in love with that world and this was just another step.”
The intense training
Plasha was older than most recruits when he joined the Coast Guard in 2022 and went through the arduous rescue swimmer training school. The graduation rate for that school is low, but when Plasha joined the Coast Guard, he knew that tough route was the only one he planned to take.
“It’s very physically and mentally demanding,” he said.
An unrelated experience helped him on his mental toughness — teaching for two years in a low-income inner-city school, where teachers would burn out quickly and many in that Teach for America program would quit partway into their tenures, sometimes after only a few weeks.
“Growing up going to private Catholic school my whole life, it was quite a shock, but I think that mentally it is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” he said.
“I remember every day, calling my mom and dad on the phone and losing my mind and being like, ‘I can’t do this another day,’ but I pushed through and I made it the two years of the commitment,” Plasha said. “I think that played a huge part in me getting through (rescue swimmer) school. I was a little bit older, 28 and 29, when I went through school.”
He was the oldest in his class, but believes that worked to his advantage “because those instructors know how to get in your head and mess you up.” He appreciated how tough the instructors were on the mental and physical sides, even though at times he wondered about certain aspects of the training.
“A lot of the things when you’re in the moment, in school, you’re like, ‘This is stupid. Why are we doing this?’”
Not long after having qualified as a rescue swimmer, he knew why.
“I had a pretty bad case (search/rescue) on my third duty day ever, and in that moment, all of those little pieces and things that they do at school came together,” he said. “I was like, ‘Oh, OK, this is why we they did this and all that.”
It was because he knew what to do in that emergency situation without hesitation and with confidence.
“It becomes second nature,” Plasha said. “I felt like I didn’t even have to think. I just started doing things.”
“It’s a long process, but by the end of all of that, you just kind of snap into it and just do things without thinking. And you realize that everything has a purpose. Everything has a reason. And those instructors out there are badass. By that, I mean they’re awesome,” he said.
Eight in his class of 17 graduated, which actually was a high ratio. The class afterward had about 20 members; one graduated. Same with the next class.
“It’s really hard to make it through, but really, really worth it.”
A former chief impressed, a grandmother’s intuition fulfilled
Plasha, now 30 years old, is an AST — aviation survival technician. An AST is in charge of taking care of all the aviation life support equipment — such as the floats, vests, rafts — in the shop at Air Station Atlantic City.
“We also serve as helicopter rescue swimmers — that’s what the public knows and sees — but since you’re obviously not out there 24/7 rescuing people, that is what the rest of the work entails,” he said.
Much of the time for Plasha and the rest of the rescue helicopter crews is spent training. And training. And training.
Just like rescue swimmer school prepares them to react to situations immediately with their ingrained training, so it is with the entire crews so when they’re called in to do rescues, their confidence and knowledge makes it seem routine.
Erich Becker, chief of operations for the Ocean City Beach Patrol, is “absolutely proud of Conor and everything he’s accomplished. To be honest, I’m even a little jealous I didn’t choose such a rewarding career myself.
“I remember him as a skinny young lifeguard and to see him return as a confident, strong professional serving as a Coast Guard rescue swimmer — it makes me incredibly proud,” Becker added. “It’s inspiring for me, for our current guards and for the whole Ocean City community.”
The OCBP chief added that Plasha’s achievement “proves that the discipline and experience they gain (on the OCBP) can lead to incredible careers. And honestly, it’s a point of pride for Ocean City.
“Conor’s story shows our community that the beach patrol is not only keeping people safe today but also preparing young men and women for whatever path they choose tomorrow,” he said.
Becker wasn’t alone in pride about Plasha. Joan Gallagher, who retired to Ocean City 29 years ago, died June 24 of this year at age 96. She lived long enough to see her intuition fulfilled.
“I wanted to be around her,” Plasha said of being stationed at Air Station Atlantic City. “She’s about the most important person in my life and changed my whole life. I’m super grateful that she got to see videos of me actually jumping out of helicopters.”
By DAVID NAHAN/Cape May Star and Wave
