About two blocks from the state capitol stands the Austin Club, a three-story former opera house with an interior paneled in dark wood and furnished in rich colors. Men in suits and women in heels meet in the second-floor buffet or one of its cloistered rooms to dine and negotiate the laws that govern the lives of Texans.

As the buffet filled for lunch Wednesday, arriving lobbyists and legislators invariably stopped to pay their respects to a short, balding man sitting at a table with Kelly de Schaun, Galveston Park Board executive director.

The man was 90-year-old A.R. "Babe" Schwartz, a lobbyist and former state senator from Galveston legendary for his blunt talk, grasp of issues and intimate knowledge of the Legislature. He and his wife, Marilyn, met with de Schaun to discuss beaches, the issue that has defined Schwartz's career. The topic was how to cooperate with other beach communities to restore money taken away by the Legislature in 2015.

Schwartz has a special fondness for the park board, which oversees Galveston beaches. He authored legislation creating it in 1962 and was instrumental in the creation of the 1959 Open Beaches Act.

Schwartz's 61 years as a driving force behind legislation for coastal conservation prompted Galveston in May to name its newest beach after him. Babe's Beach, which stretches from 61st to 75th streets, is a restoration of sand in front of the seawall where it eroded more than 50 years ago.

Schwartz believes access to public beaches has been under constant assault since the day the open beaches law was enacted and that beachfront property owners are constantly conniving to keep the public at bay.

"Every legislative session that comes along produces some new genius that figures out a way that some rich guy can buy a piece of land and exclude the public from its use," Schwartz said. "A tremendous percentage of people on west Galveston Island within the first 100 feet of mean low tide believe that the public is intruding on their privacy."

Party vs. ideology

Schwartz is especially peeved about the Texas Supreme Court's 2012 ruling that said the Open Beaches Act didn't apply to one of four Galveston Island rental properties owned by Carol Severance, a San Diego lawyer. The ruling has been interpreted as making private much of the beach on the west end.

"The Severance case is an abomination in its own right and eventually will be replaced by better law," Schwartz said, adding that it ignored centuries of common law as well as a legal tradition dating to the sixth century.

Protecting beaches and public access to them means dealing with a Legislature that is more partisan and less willing to compromise than the one he served in from 1955 to 1980, first as representative and then a senator.

In Schwartz's day the Legislature was dominated by conservatives, but they divided along ideological rather than party lines. Schwartz was one of small group of liberals who often found themselves in opposition to Lt. Gov. William "Bill" Hobby, a conservative Democrat who held the office for a record five terms, 1971-1990.

Although Hobby seldom agreed with Schwartz, he appointed him to every major committee and three chairmanships.

"You can't conceive of a time when the Senate under Hobby would be what it is today," Schwartz said.

In the Senate, Schwartz earned a reputation for fearlessness and directness. He took on one of the most powerful conservative senators, W.T. "Bill" Moore, D-Bryan, known as the "Bull of the Brazos." Paul Burka, a former Schwartz aide, remembers the diminutive Schwartz standing toe-to-toe with the bear-sized Moore, shouting insults and jabbing his finger upward.

"They almost came to blows one day in the Senate," Burka said.

Schwartz has navigated the changes in the Legislature and remains an effective lobbyist. Legislators often avail themselves of his command of the arcane rules that govern how legislation is made.

When Ellis Pickett, who represents the Surf Rider Foundation, wanted to derail a law that would allow development that threatened Galveston beaches, he turned to Schwartz.

"His reputation preceded him," Pickett recalled. "Because I had been doing so much research on the Open Beaches Act and coastal issues and his name was everywhere, I recognized he was someone I had to meet."

Former state Rep. Craig Eiland, D-Galveston, said Schwartz defies the image of the lobbyist who massages legislators' egos or plies them with food and drink.

"One time he cussed me out because I wouldn't file a bill for (late developer) George Mitchell on permission to sue the Galveston Wharves Board," Eiland said. He called Schwartz's language unprintable.

Invaluable ally

Schwartz's deep knowledge of coastal legislation and his connections in the Legislature made him an invaluable ally, said former three-term Land Commissioner Jerry Patterson, who also was a Republican Senator representing Galveston 1993-99.

"When Babe came to talk to you, he was such an icon that he wasn't just another suit running around the capitol during the legislative session," Patterson said.

Schwartz and his wife live in an apartment overlooking the capitol, where he walks each day during the legislative session to hold court in the cafeteria as he breakfasts on biscuits, gravy and coffee.

"The thing that I fear is the day I wake up and Babe is no longer around to help lead the fight to preserve the Texas coast, because there is no one to replace him," Pickett said.