Las Vegas

When he's not helping penguins march through a TSA metal detector, chasing a man in stilettos through baggage claim or gathering Christmas presents for stranded kids, Sam Torrence is doing something just as rare: helping confused and troubled travelers at the airport.

Passenger-service representative Roberto Gonzalez directs passengers to the security checkpoints at McCarran International Airport, one of the few large airports in the country that still employ 'red coats.' Olga Minkevitch for The Wall Street Journal

Mr. Torrence is one of 33 full-time "red coat" customer-service specialists employed by McCarran International Airport here, which sees about 40 million passengers come through every year. These days, many airports have eliminated or outsourced passenger-service agents or turned their role over to elderly volunteers. Most others have deployed do-it-yourself kiosks. Indeed, only 11 out of 21 of the nation's largest airports still employ some form of red coat aides, a recent McCarran survey found.

Airports that use these aides say they are picking up the customer-service slack as airlines cut employees and reduce service. Las Vegas, in particular, sees their role as vital to the local tourism industry—if vacationers have a bad travel experience, they may go elsewhere next time.

Because the airport gets a high volume of inexperienced travelers, people can easily get confused, lost or angry while trying to navigate airline check-in, baggage, food and security.

Tseguy A. Girmay, right, helps a traveler at the airport's information desk. Olga Minkevitch for The Wall Street Journal

The Red Coats are Coming Many airports have outsourced or eliminated passenger-assistance employees in terminals, or switched to volunteers. Here is a sampling of airports that still employ their own fulltime agents. Atlanta

Boston

Houston (Hobby and Bush)

Las Vegas

Seattle Source: The airports

"We have a little bit more high-anxiety traveler," said Rosemary Vassiliadis, deputy director of aviation for McCarran. "People like to interact with human beings when nervous. You just need that reassurance."

The agents—many of whom actually wear maroon or gray sport coats in Las Vegas—staff information desks to hand out literature on airport services and provide airline contacts. They roam the terminal to spot travelers in need, reading body language for tell-tale signs of anxiety and confusion before stepping in to help.

Recently, a mother about to board a five-hour flight to the East Coast realized she didn't have formula for her baby. One agent spread the word to others by radio, then another spotted a woman with children at baggage claim who was willing to part with extra packets of formula. Agents raced the formula to the gate for the departing passenger.

"Some people get antsy. Some get angry because they lost money on the Strip so they are upset. We try to calm them with a joke or a smile," said Peter Martinez, a passenger-service representative for five years. "Sometimes people are intoxicated and cause disruptions. Sometimes we see disoriented passengers or medical issues. Sometimes people get separated from family because this is such a large place."

Airport representatives help with crowd control, provide translation services for international travelers, chase down lost luggage and find meal vouchers for gamblers left penniless.

They also manage lines at TSA checkpoints at busy times—directing traffic and assisting the elderly and families with small children.

Airport officials meet regularly with local airline and TSA managers to go over convention schedules and airline bookings so staffing is in line with peak traffic. The airport collects staffing plans from airlines, concessionaires and TSA. The service representatives count to make sure TSA has all the open lanes and staff at peak travel times it promised, and that airline counters and restaurants open and close as scheduled.

The information is relayed back to Ms. Vassiliadis, who chases down managers when staffing is lacking. "They are our checkpoint watchdogs," she said.

Passenger-service representatives at McCarran earn $31,000 to $48,000 annually, an airport spokesman said. Airport-service coordinators, whose duties include being emergency first responders, are paid $53,000 to $82,000. McCarran has three part-time and 23 full-time PSRs, and 10 ASCs.

With a gray sport coat, official airport badge and friendly smile, Mr. Torrence, an ASC, is a magnet for bewildered travelers. On a recent day while simply walking by the Southwest Airlines check-in area, he was constantly questioned.

An elderly woman had a printed receipt, but TSA had sent her away because she didn't have a boarding pass. With a long line and no signs explaining the check-in process, she stood confused until Mr. Torrence got her to a kiosk to print out the necessary pass.

Barry Browne, a San Diego physician, had a boarding pass with no gate information. Rather than traipse down to a central flight display board, Mr. Terrence simply called the passenger representative manning the information booth to look up the gate number.

"I've been lost here before. This airport can get unbelievably crowded," Dr. Browne said. "Guys like this are useful."

Phyllis Barmache was headed home to Southern California and worried that a very long check-in line would cause her to miss her flight. With no bags to check, Mr. Torrence took her to an airport kiosk without a line where she could get her boarding pass and be on her way.

"He made me leave Las Vegas feeling good," she said.

Not all situations are so routine. Mr. Torrence, a 48-year-old Army veteran who also worked as a federal prison guard and a security manager at the Bellagio resort, deals regularly with gamblers who have lost everything.

Sam Torrence assists a passenger in the terminal. Olga Minkevitch for The Wall Street Journal

He is authorized to sign for meals—paid for out of the airport's terminal operations budget. Concessionaires, cab companies and others can step in as well, making vouchers available for food, one-way cab fare and other necessities. But getting people home is often difficult if they've cashed in their airline ticket and end up stranded. Airport officials work with airlines to get the cheapest fare possible, but often all Mr. Torrence can offer is phone calls to friends and relatives who can provide a credit card to get someone home.

Last Christmas, a young mother with three small children was stuck in the airport trying to get to St. Louis after being evicted from her house. Mr. Torrence interrupted the airport's employee Christmas dinner to take up a collection and get the family meals and Amtrak train tickets. An airport canine handler bought toys for the children.

Often the prison-guard experience comes into play. "My job is to read someone and see if they are legit or not," he said. "They come here to hustle the airport out of services. It's a judgment call."

Last year, Mr. Torrence had to escort a bald eagle named Mr. Lincoln through airport security because TSA insisted on checking the bird and his cage in Mr. Torrence's office.

And he's helped penguins from the San Diego Zoo have a typical airport experience—they actually waddled single-file through TSA metal detectors.

Write to Scott McCartney at middleseat@wsj.com