DECADES-LONG CAMPAIGN TO SNUFF OUT TOBACCO STARTING TO HEAT UP : CRUSADER'S SMOKING MESSAGE FINDS AUDIENCE.

Byline: Dennis McCarthy 

``I was very unpopular. A lot of people hated me or looked at me like I was some kind of nut.'' - Alex Andres.

There is nothing quite so delicious late in life than to still be around and kicking when the time comes for people to finally give you your due - to finally recognize what you knew 35 years ago when you were out there alone, spittin' into a strong wind.

Fighting the Marlboro Man, Lucky Strike, Camels, and the rest of the big cigarette brands with the big advertising bucks.

Out there visiting schools, service clubs, veterans hospitals, and anyplace in the Valley that would have you as a speaker so you could tell everyone from kids up to senior citizens that the ads were wrong - that there was nothing cool or glamorous about smoking.

That it stunk and was stupid. That, sooner or later, cigarettes would kill you if you let 'em - so don't let 'em.

That was the message Alex Andres, now 85, dedicated a good chunk of his life to getting out to the public starting in 1961, and you'll excuse him today - on another Great American Smokeout day - if he sits back and basks in a little reflected glory.

It may have taken a while longer than he thought it would, he says, but he finally helped knock that smug Marlboro Man right out of the saddle, and put the tobacco companies on the run.

``I really did think that I'd convince people (to stop smoking) because I had all the evidence on my side,'' Andres says. ``The cigarette companies had none. But, it did surprise me it took so long.''

So long. 1961. Thirty-five years ago.

The Marlboro Man was still riding across our TV screens and puffing his brains out over a campfire in newspaper ads.

Our movie role models were still lighting up on the screen after dinner and you couldn't walk into a restaurant or office - private or government - without the smell of cigarette smoke filling your nostrils.

Alex Andres - five years shy of retiring from his Van Nuys insurance and real estate business - decided that somebody better start doing something about it, and quick.

``Even doctors back then weren't too much up in arms against it,'' he said. ``I got on the speakers panel of my Van Nuys Optimist Club, and began going around to other service clubs talking about quitting smoking.

``Needless to say, I was very unpopular, walking into a room full of people smoking, and telling them they had to stop. A lot of people hated me, but I didn't give a hoot. I was always a nonconformist.''

When the service clubs stopped inviting Andres back, he took to the classroom and veterans hospitals with his message.

``I was a member of the volunteer speaking program for schools, and I think over 15 years with them, I talked at just about every school in the Valley,'' he says.

``I told the kids it was not only a health issue, but that if they smoked, they'd stink. And, if you stink, you're not going to get many dates. I tried to get them to needle their parents into stopping smoking.

``I knew back then that reaching the kids was important because even though the tobacco companies were saying in their ads that smoking was an adult pleasure, you knew they were still trying to hook the kids.

``Who do most kids want to emulate? An adult.''

When Andres wasn't talking to kids or anyone else who would listen to his one-man, anti-smoking campaign, he was down at City Hall, buttonholing politicians to adopt rules against smoking in public buildings. His advocation in retirement had become almost a full-time job.

The '60s gave way to the '70s - the '70s to the '80s - the '80s to the '90s - and, finally, Alex Andres began to find he wasn't so unpopular anymore.

``Over the years, I've gotten hundreds of people to quit, and helped spur some anti-smoking legislation. That makes me feel pretty good because I think I've saved some lives. And, after all, isn't that what this is all about?''

With that, the 85-year-old trailblazer of the anti-smoking movement walks down to the bulletin board in the lobby of Warner Village in Woodland Hills where he lives.

He tacks up a sign saying that just in case his neighbors didn't already know, nonsmokers get a pretty hefty break over smokers on their home insurance rates.

``I'll still talk to any group that will have me,'' Andres says, smiling the smile of a victor.

``I'm not about to stop now that I've got the blackguards on the run.''

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Photo

Photo: Alex Andres, in his apartment in Warner Village in Woodland Hills, shows off some of the props he has used in his anti-smoking lectures he began giving back in 1961.

Phil McCarten/Daily News