The Brief

The Hollywood Burbank Airport drew national attention recently when a shortage of air traffic controllers meant its tower had to close. The lack of controllers is a long-running issue that’s getting worse during the federal government shutdown, and it caused long delays for passengers at the airport.

But when an air traffic tower goes dark, what does that mean for your plane’s landing or takeoff? Who's monitoring your flight? Should you be worried?

We asked some long-time veterans of the business to explain. Here’s what we know.

How air traffic control works

Controllers give pilots permission to move a plane on the ground and in the air. They can also communicate useful info to pilots while they’re en route to their destination.

Ross Sagun, of Sagun Aviation consulting, a pilot for more than 50 years and former air traffic controller, said their primary job is to keep aircraft from touching each other, especially when a pilot can’t look out the window to see for themselves.

Sagun said there are three levels of air traffic control, each of which oversees different parts of airspace.

Air traffic is typically controlled by three separate groups, as shown here in the FAA's Air Traffic by the Numbers handbook.

(

Courtesy the Federal Aviation Administration

)

• Local airport control towers:

The first level are the controllers stationed in those tall towers at an airport, who watch up to 5,000 feet or so. Sometimes, it’s a whole team that focuses on different airport sections, like at LAX.

“ [They] are working ground control, clearance delivery, and landing and taking off aircraft,” Sagun said.

• Southern California TRACON:

Southern California TRACON, in San Diego, provides the next level of oversight. Here, controllers use radar to watch a “middle layer” of airspace up to roughly 15,000 feet, covering most airports in Southern California, including Long Beach, Burbank and LAX. The TRACON primarily focuses on arriving and departing aircraft.

• Air Route Traffic Control Center:

Los Angeles Air Route Traffic Control Center, in Palmdale, watches en route traffic (the phase of flying between takeoff and landing). It covers parts of California, Utah, Nevada and Arizona and has the ability to monitor the surface up to 60,000 feet. This facility operates continuously.

Some airports don’t have local controllers at all. The U.S. has over 5,000 public airports and only 527 control towers, according to the FAA. These are usually lower-traffic airports, such as Catalina, Cable and Compton airports, and are less common destinations for commercial flights. They rely on remote controllers in San Diego and pilot communication to manage plane traffic.

What happens during a controller shortage

When the Hollywood Burbank Airport’s control tower was unstaffed, the TRACON took over local duties, such as giving clearances. That’s not totally unusual — for example, during the height of the pandemic, unexpected tower closures happened a lot.

Towers regularly close at night too, often because of a commercial flight curfew. Mike Jesch, a Boeing 787 captain for a major airline, said that’s the case at Long Beach, John Wayne and Burbank airports. He says knowing how to fly into destinations without towers is standard training.

“Before a student pilot goes and flies an airplane on their own for the first time, instructors will take them to an airport without a tower and make sure that they know how to get in and out safely,” Jesch said.

How safe is it?

While pilots are trained to navigate air traffic, both experts told LAist they prefer to have local controllers present because the backup process has limitations.

“ They don’t have cameras or windows or eyeballs out into the world,” Jesch said. “They only have a radar screen, so there’s really usually not much help around an airport.”

Flight issues can also crop up when a tower is still open, but there aren’t enough controllers. Local roles get consolidated in those situations. For example, one controller could become responsible for multiple sides of an airport instead of just one.

“ When you take one of the legs off the stool, things get a little bit shaky,” Sagun said. “I’m real concerned about the level of safety right now.”

Radar helps once a plane reaches a high enough altitude, but for the most part, the responsibility falls on pilots to see and avoid. When a tower is closed, they use a special frequency assigned to each airport to announce their movements.

Even the frequencies pilots and controllers use to talk shrink during understaffing. Jesch recalled  a night several years ago while he was flying into a fully-lit Miami runway. One controller was swamped handling every station.

“I couldn’t get a word in edgewise to ask the controller to turn the lights down,” he said. “I ended up landing with holes burned in my retina from these really bright lights that I didn’t need.”

How does this affect my flight?

All of these issues can impact how quickly your aircraft moves or, in some cases, if your flight gets canceled.

When a tower is understaffed, controllers prioritize planes in the air, meaning departing aircraft could be forced to wait. If incoming traffic gets to be too much, a groundstop could be issued, or you may have to sit on the tarmac longer.

Controllers also slow down arrival rates if there’s too much going on, which gives them time to handle the workload.

“ It’s like having a clog in your sink with the water running,” Sagun said. “The water’s still running and rising. It’s just that you can’t drain it as fast.”

Whether it’s controllers or pilots running the show, air traffic delays can cascade to other parts of the country.

“It’s going to get there late. It’s gonna depart late… and it’s a big domino effect,” Sagun said.

The Long Beach Unified Board of Trustees on Wednesday authorized the school district to end the employment of close to 600 employees, a move the LBUSD says is necessary to stabilize its ballooning deficit.

Board members approved two separate resolutions, the first of which does not renew the contracts of 515 certificated employees, who are on temporary contracts that must be re-upped annually. Though it is common for the district to choose not to renew some temporary contracts, the non-renewal of hundreds of TK-12 teachers, early childhood education teachers and social workers represents a massive change for the next school year from the current workforce of 10,000 total employees. While schools across the district will feel the cuts, Poly and Jordan high schools may be especially hard hit; 14 and 12 teachers at each site are listed on the district’s document of non-renewals.

The second resolution authorized the district to formally lay off 54 classified district positions: non-teaching staff members ranging from office support staff to instructional and recreation aides to library media assistants to parent liaisons.

The board votes come after months of warnings from the district that costs and spending have outpaced the district’s funding, saddling LBUSD with a $70 million deficit. The district is now attempting to shrink that deficit through a fiscal stabilization plan that “has prioritized preserving core instructional, wellness, and student support services,” the district wrote in an agenda item related to the cuts.

Prior to the vote, Superintendent Jill Baker framed the proposed cuts with the historical context of significant enrollment declines, the expiration of funds following the Great Recession and COVID-19 pandemic that had allowed the district to develop a healthy reserve, uncertain federal and state dollars and low attendance numbers, for which the district is penalized — “a really grave situation, fiscally,” she said, one that many districts across California are grappling with.

Baker walked board members through the significant efforts the district has made to manage costs, saving more than $47 million, including through significant central office reductions. Despite these efforts, it’s still not enough, Baker said.

“The release of temporary certificated contracts is one way of reducing the number of employees without impacting permanent certificated employees,” the district wrote in the agenda item.

For those 515 certificated employees who will be notified that their contracts will end, it’s a way that “the district can get away with letting teachers go without calling it a layoff,” said Peder Larsen, vice president of the Teachers Association of Long Beach, which represents certificated employees in LBUSD.

Some of them could be rehired, especially if their positions are in high demand, like science, math and special education teachers, Larsen said. Yet, it throws hundreds into a tailspin of uncertainty and fear, unsure if their jobs have definitively ended and how long they will have health coverage, he added.

While he said the district has not officially announced that no permanent certificated employees will be cut (they have until March 15 to do so), he said he is “reading the tea leaves” and predicting those permanent positions will be safe this year.

In his comment to the board during public testimony, Larsen advocated for examining the money spent annually on consultants and contracts and urged the board and district to re-examine their priorities and “choose to protect the people who serve students every single day.”

On both votes, School Board Member Maria Isabel López was the lone vote against the resolutions, voicing her opinion that some of these positions could have been saved if fiscal priorities had been different and major contracts had not been approved.

Other board members acknowledged that the votes will change lives. “There’s not one of us in this room that takes this lightly,” said Board President Diana Craighead before voting in favor of the cuts. Board Member Doug Otto said he was voting to adopt the resolutions “sadly, reluctantly and necessarily.”

It wasn't supposed to be a big deal. After all, it was just a diner.

Sure, Phil Rosenthal (creator of Everybody Loves Raymond and Netflix's Somebody Feed Phil) and Nancy Silverton (owner of Mozza and Chi Spacca) — two of Los Angeles' most iconic food voices — were teaming up on the project. Still, the concept was modest: fluffy scrambled eggs, turkey club sandwiches and coffee refills.

Named in memory of Rosenthal's late parents, Max and Helen — familiar faces to fans of his Netflix series — their unpretentious love of diner classics became both the menu's foundation and its guiding philosophy.

Yet within weeks of opening in November, Max & Helen's had eight-hour waits, viral hot chocolate and celebrity sightings, including Timothée Chalamet, Kylie Jenner and Selena Gomez. It came as a shock to the newly married couple running it all, Lily Rosenthal Royal, Phil's daughter and the diner's creative director, and her husband, Mason Royal, the director of operations, who oversees the kitchen. (They started working together a week after their wedding).

"We thought we were gonna be hot for Larchmont," Rosenthal Royal says.

Instead, Max & Helen's became a destination — the kind of place people plan their weekends around, wait four hours for and drive across L.A. to experience.

Lily & Mason

Rosenthal and Silverton were never going to run Max & Helen's themselves — the plan was always to build it and hand it over. Royal, who has 12 years of restaurant experience, caught Silverton's attention during tastings.

"Nancy was like,'I feel like Mason would be good as the guy running the show,'" Rosenthal Royal said.

The couple had been developing their own pop-up when the opportunity at the diner arose, and suddenly they were running the family business.

For Royal, working with Silverton has been a dream. For Rosenthal Royal, the project is deeply personal — a love letter to her grandparents and the diners her father grew up on.

"We opened it almost selfishly because we live in Larchmont," she said. "We wanted a diner for ourselves, for our friends, for our community."

Wood-paneled walls and vintage family photographs create a nostalgic atmosphere at Max & Helen's diner.

(

Catherine Dzilenski

/

Courtesy Max & Helen's

)

Rosenthal is clear about their importance.

“Diners are democratic with a small D,” he told me last year when the project was still in development. Places where everyone is welcome, where community can flourish — something he felt was increasingly rare.

Worth the wait

The frenzy has now cooled slightly — while weekends still draw four-hour waits, midweek is much calmer.

When I visited with my family on a recent weekday morning, the wait was about 45 minutes. We were seated in the corner banquette area, accompanied by crocheted cushions bearing the name "Max & Helen's." Along with the wood-paneled walls and the black-and-white family photographs, it felt more like a cozy roadside diner you'd stumble upon on a drive up the coast than something nestled among the lifestyle boutiques and specialty stores that crowd Larchmont Boulevard.

Breakfast wins

The menu was simple, which made ordering easy, with breakfast and lunch options.

I tried Nancy's omelet ($18) with herbs and farmer’s cheese, which was thin and crepe-like, folded perfectly at the edges, and impossibly fluffy, offering bursts of freshness from the herbs.

I was particularly curious to try the waffle, which has been both widely lauded (for its taste) and lambasted (for the $17 price point).

It was transcendent, with golden, crisp ridges and deep pockets built to cradle syrup. Rosenthal Royal told me they use a three-day-fermented sourdough batter, a labor-intensive process that gives the waffle its distinctive texture and flavor.

The $17 waffle with whipped maple butter uses a three-day fermented sourdough batter

(

Catherine Dzilenski

/

Courtesy Max & Helen's

)

What truly set it apart, for me at least, was the whipped maple butter: airy and lush, melting into every nook, both indulgent and unexpectedly light.

As for the price — it's a generous portion, and a comparable waffle at Mel's Drive-In in Santa Monica costs $13.50. Apparently, those extra few dollars equal rage bait these days.

I was less impressed with the turkey club ($19), well-cooked bacon, fresh vegetables and a spicy mayo. Nice nods to California diner cuisine. But the bread was a bit thin, without the heft needed to support the rest of the sandwich's company.

Max & Helen's turkey club sandwich served with a side of tallow French fries and Lily's hot chocolate topped with a brûléed marshmallow

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

Still, the tallow fries ($8) were exceptionally crispy, and the hot chocolate, $9.50, — another viral sensation — was stellar, thick and rich with a brûléed marshmallow on top.

I even took the liberty of dipping a few fries into the chocolate, which turned out to be a genius move.

Looking ahead

Royal hasn't taken a day off since opening — a fact his wife is quick to call out with a laugh. Their partnership works because their roles complement each other: His operational rigor meets her's warmth and joy.

"Mason runs a tight ship," Rosenthal Royal said. "But we want this to be warm and fun and lighthearted."

It's that balance — systems and soul — that they hope will define Max & Helen's beyond the viral moments.

The pair hope Max & Helen's becomes an institution like Apple Pan or Musso & Frank — a place where, as Rosenthal Royal put it, "Max and Helen would feel at home, where everyone feels loved and seen and warm."

The counter at Max & Helen's evokes classic American diners.

(

Catherine Dzilenski

/

Courtesy Max & Helen's

)

A man recently came in with a gift, telling Rosenthal Royal he'd met someone at the counter she'd seated him next to. They're now dating.

"If we could have that happen over and over again," she said, "I'd be so happy."

Beyond the diner, Rosenthal Royal is also releasing a children's book this spring, co-written with her father — a fitting parallel to their collaborative work at Max & Helen's. Three months in, they've built something bigger than they imagined. Whether it stands the test of time depends on whether the hype fades into something more enduring: a neighborhood fixture that just happens to make a really good waffle.