Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Wanna Buy a School?


Imagine house hunting and finding a 30,000-square-foot, four-story 1924 home, with a stocked library, 13 bedrooms, two offices, a ridiculous kitchen, walk-in fridge, eight bathrooms, a stage and a basketball court. 

Pricetag? $119,000

I stumbled across this gem on eBay while waiting for a softball game that I thought would get rained out (we ended up losing, in the rain, 15-14 after being up 12-0 in the second inning. Thanks for bringing it up). It’s a former Catholic school in Mount Carmel, Pennsylvania. 

The limits of what you could do with a home (okay, building) like this are practically immeasurable. Hold a basketball tournament in your living room? Check. Host a family of boarding school children after a war breaks out near their home? Check. Cook and serve dinner for 100 guests? Check. Put on a live production of Macbeth, complete with authentic witches? Check. Start VanTuyl’s Boot Camp for Newsies, an all-inclusive school for would-be journalists? Check.

That’s all well and good except, as I mentioned earlier, that particular building is on the block in somewhere called Mount Carmel, Penn. As everyone knows, the only good things to come out of the Penn state were the Liberty Bell, Wilt Chamberlain’s 100-point game and chocolate. 

There aren’t any schools that I know of for sale in Lewis County but, if there were, the closest comparison would be the St. Joseph Catholic School off Cascade in Chehalis. 

Seeking a comparison, I looked up the tax info on the St. Joseph School in Chehalis. 

According to our county assessor’s nifty PATS program, I learned that the property owned by the school (JUST the school, not the church) is assessed at $295,000 and the improvements are worth $1.8 million. The building, built in 1922 (according to tax records), looks to be about 13,000 square feet and sit on 1.74 acres. 

That’s not counting the actual church building and land which, built in the 1950s, is assessed for just over $400,000. 

On a somewhat related, but timely, note, we ran a story on page 12 of The Chronicle’s main section today about a former high school building in Mabton that developers are trying to turn into a wine bistro/bed and breakfast/retail center.

A side note: I’ve written a story about former schools and their post-student lives before and, rather than write a full update, I’ll include here everything that’s changed in that portion of my beat since: Vader had a school. Now it doesn’t. Castle Rock absorbed the district, took its assets, and demolished the school building. The end. 

In other news, former Senate candidate Ted Shannon’s long lost brother was found playing for the Houston Astros.

Here’s some more good stuff I didn’t want to leave out. A 9-year-old Little League baseball player in Connecticut has been kicked out of the league he’s in because he throws too hard (40 mph). Way to go, Connecticut. You’ve ousted Vader as the worst place in America to grow up. 




Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Wine on the Sidewalk

At first glance, you might be wondering just what significance I find in a box of wine sitting on a sidewalk across the street from Centralia's City Hall (and, I might add, kitty-corner from Chronicle headquarters). 
First of all, it's sitting there at 5 p.m. on a Tuesday, about two hours before the City Council meeting. 
Second of all, it's sitting on the Streetscape brick sidewalk. At the Council meeting, one item discussed a $193,000 claim against the city from a gentleman who slipped and fell off one of the faux-brick curbs.
Third, the Chronicle reporters were all just given Nikon D40 cameras to pack around in case we see something worthy of a photo. This was the first applicable opportunity I saw, and I'll keep my eyes peeled for more.
Note: Upon further inspection today, the box turned out to be full of rocks and have a "yard sale" sign on one side. Nevertheless, I like the photo.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Salary List: Extended

On Monday we ran a big feature on what top public employees are paid. In pulling up the files and sending e-mails to pull in figures for the story, I ended up with a lot more than what was finally printed. Here are a few more numbers to think about.

Classroom Warriors: Teachers with an M.A. and more than 16 years of experience in both the elementary and secondary levels topped out at $61,720 last year, while a first-year teacher could expect to earn $32,746. This doesn’t include extra stipends which, I believe, can cover directing plays, or being in charge of a band, or coaching, or being athletic director. At the Chehalis School District, for example, the highest-paid elementary teacher gets $76,951 a year, while at W.F. West the big winner tops out at $83,009. 

Sideline teachers: High school athletic coaches are paid a stipend that covers payment for the length of that particular season. In Chehalis, for example, the highest paid varsity coach gets $6,432 a season. Here are a few others: Winlock, $3,398; Morton, $3,569.31; Adna, $4,025; Mossyrock, $3,971; Rochester, $5,311; Toledo, $4,846; and Onalaska, $5,239. 

I don’t have the specific names that go along with each of those figures, but sports fans can probably guess based on which coaches have been around the longest and, based on the particular school, feel the most pressure to succeed. Onalaska, for example, has a longstanding basketball tradition, thanks in no small part to coach Dennis Bower. Winlock can say the same for hoops coach Gary Viggers, and Adna’s gridiron guru K.C. Johnson might be under more scrutiny than any other coach in Lewis County’s fairest town. 

In Centralia (a figure which, sadly, I don’t have) I’d imagine that 40-year hoops veteran Ron Brown gets the highest stipend, although it could be argued that Tim Gilmore (who’s helped out with every Tiger sport from baseball to curling) might gross more with the 10 or 15 teams he seemingly coaches each year.

Breaking it down, the coaches earn every penny their paid. The average for those listed here is about $4,600. Say that covers basketball season, which can run from November to March, if the team makes state. That’s about four months, or $1,150 a month. Teams practice or play games five or six days a week. That could be about three hours a day for practice days, and closer to six for game days. Round it out to a conservative 25 hours a week and that’s about a whopping $11.50 an hour. 

Winlock, Morton, Mossyrock and Adna paid their high school principals between $80,000 and $90,000 last year, and principals at Onalaska and Toledo high schools were paid about $79,000. The bigger the school, the bigger the check; Rochester’s HS principal clocks in at about $95,000, and W.F. West’s top administrator pulls in over six figures (one of at least four Chehalis district employees to do so).

Superintendents, in general, pull in between $90,000 and $100,000. That can be less in the case of a part-time super (see Morton, $59,000), or more in larger districts (Rochester, $121,000). 

Friday, August 1, 2008

Fakin' It



Thursday’s Chronicle features a story on a pair of local entrepreneurs who purchased degrees online from a diploma mill near Spokane. 

One of those individuals, Ervin Kraemer, was the focus of a story I wrote almost a year ago (the other was his daughter, Chelsea). His company, Northwest Aquifer Surveying, Inc., was ordered to pay $481,000 out to a number of franchisees who sued because, in short, their stuff didn’t work. It’d be a little bit like starting a McDonald’s and finding that your Big Macs tasted like recycled Purina

A week and a half after I wrote the original story about the Kraemers and their franchising escapades, the Lewis County News (the LC’s Number Two Source for Printed News ... or maybe number three, depending on how often you read the East Lewis County Journal, or Toilet Talk on the walls of the Centralia College bathrooms) wrote their own story on the issue. 

Their story/editorial called into question the reporting practices of yours truly, criticizing the fact that we had no quotes from the Kraemers in the story. 

Wrote the LCN: “The story which broke two weeks ago contained little more information than what was sent to the local daily paper in a press release. The standard line of “could not be reached for comment” was included, but Christine and husband Ervin say they were not given time to respond.”

I made the calls, left the messages, and waited an extra day for a response. I even stopped by the company’s Pearl Street address and knocked on the door. 

This was after, of course, the editor of the fine weekly paper called me to ask for a copy of the original news release from Howard Morrill. Like a fool, I faxed it over, believing the whole honor-among-journalists thing. 

Fast-forward a week and a half, and the LCN runs their anti-Chronicle, pro-questionable-local-business piece. Ironically, the “story” raked me over the coals for not contacting the Kraemers, all the while spelling their last names wrong, without bothering to call and ask me how I wrote it. 

The piece was cleverly titled “National Water invites public to dig deeper.” Get it, dig? They’re a groundwater company?

The subhead could have been, “but not too deep, lest they come across some fake diplomas.”

I stewed for a few days and forgot about the matter. After all, at a daily paper, we’ve got a lot of pages to fill. 

Fast-forward another year, and the Kraemer name again pops onto the front pages for the diploma mill incident. A few days later, a “new member” named “Wow!” pops up on the Lewis County Buzz, leaves a ton of comments on the original fake diploma story, and fires up a new Buzz thread about our “biased” reporting. 

Here’s a few samples: 

“Most damningly, The Chronicle immediately published this one-sided story without investigating and making readers aware of exactly what the claims of the disgruntled franchisees were.”

We didn’t? Really?

“Pike and the Keatings tested the equipment in a scenario where they knew there was water below the ground, only to find results claiming the opposite. In another case the readings said that a significant water source was available but, upon drilling, no water turned up.” (The Chronicle, Aug. 2, 2007)

Another comment by Wow! on the fake diploma story:

“1) easily-obtained records of the arbitration clearly show (and this is undisputed by both sides) that the claim was made by franchisees that often the equipment used was MORE accurate than the statistics provided by NWAS prior to a franchise sale.”

This doesn’t make much sense to me. How could they win an arbitration in which the plaintiffs agree that what they purchased worked better than expected?

More from the actual 2007 story: ‘“What we bought was under the assumption that this works 70 to 80-plus percent of the time,” Pike (a franchise purchaser) said. “Come to find out we were way off, it’d be 50 percent if we were lucky.”’

Also from Wow!: “I am in no way related to or financially connected to the parties mentioned in this case, I am just interested in the facts (and have had to research them for myself with all concerned parties thanks to The Chronicle’s laziness or outright libel).”

Not related? You, sir or madame, have done a fair amount of homework over the last 24 hours (and have excellent timing, creating an account the day after the story broke; and a marked hatred for The Chronicle) to not be related in any way, shape or form to this story. 

And libel? Really? Funny, that was mentioned in LCN’s story, too. Definition: anything that is defamatory or that maliciously or damagingly misrepresents. Now, as I understand it, a defamatory statement is something false. Once again, nothing written in any of the stories published on this matter has been proven false. Maybe Wow! didn’t study hard enough for his (or her) online diploma. 

That story, however, is in the past. The new frontier for the Kraemers (or, if you’re the LCN, “Kramers”) is this little “fake diploma” incident. More replies to the latest story (“Fake Diplomas Irk Former Customers of Local Business”) are credited to the real Ervin and Christine Kraemer, and listed after the story. 

Among the latest batch of claims: 

- NWAS was NOT passed on to the Kraemers’ daughter, Chelsea; it was legally dissolved, and the leftover assets were sold to her. 

- “We used the monies gleaned from the asset sale to pay off local venders and debt of NWAS- all of which we can prove with receipts.” That’s odd. The story listed above their comment says, “He said he doesn’t have the money to comply with the order to pay the $481,000 settlement, and that he has no plans to do so. He said the former franchisees are conspiring against him.” Now, I’m no genius, but if you’d paid ANYTHING back, don’t you think you’d tell the reporter about it?

- “Dan Scheiber twisted and skewed Mr. Kraemer’s response to the false allegations and neglected once again to print truth.” Now, I give ol’ Donny Scribble as much crap as anyone (as I write this Eric Schwartz is complaining about how Scribble never writes up his own Lewis County Commission agendas), but what does he have to gain by writing up a story full of lies about the Kraemers? I listened to him as he was on the phone with Ervin Kraemer and, I’m not making this up, he actually told Ervin “The truth will set you free!” as he was asking about the diploma/degree. 

Here’s a few quick facts: 

1. NWAS lost in a $481,000 arbitration hearing. An impartial entity awarded the money to the franchisees. I wasn’t at the hearing, and I’m not a geologist or hydrologist (although, apparently, with a few dollars, five minutes and a DSL connection I could be), but on my best day I couldn’t spin that to look good. 

2. Ervin and Chelsea Kraemer purchased degrees/diplomas from what proved to be an online diploma mill. The Spokesman-Review reported that, not us. We localized the story. If it would have been about any other business owner, public figure, criminal or citizen, we also would have reported it. If my name would have been on the list, I’d imagine a story of some kind would have been written (maybe even by me!).  

(Editor’s note: Confirmed. There would have been a story written about (Aaron), bringing eternal shame to Adna and environs.)

We wrote a truthful story about a business losing an arbitration case and a follow-up, a year later, about the diplomas. We didn’t write an attack piece. Contrary to the Kraemers’ beliefs, we don’t set out every afternoon to ruin a business with the goal of selling more papers. If we wanted to do that we’d burn down churches (possibly with people inside); the art is far more impressive and, as the old saying goes, if it bleeds it leads.