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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.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Coming Soon to a Computer Near You

Editorial Videos Go Live Aug. 2
If you haven’t had a chance yet, take a look at Chronicle videographer Nick George’s trailer for the Editorial Board interviews. It’s short and presented like the trailer for some sort of apocalyptic, ensemble-cast feature film.

The Editorial Board consists of five members and, in short, they bring in each candidate for the primary elections and ask them questions about “The Issues,” which takes about 45 minutes. In next Saturday’s episode of The Chronicle, the Our Views column will carry the Editorial Board’s collective opinion on the two races for which Editorial Boards were held: the County Commissioner race and the battle for Dan Swecker’s seat on state senate. The column will also feature the board’s take on a few other races and issues coming in the Aug. 19 primary, for which ballots will be out in early August. 

Anyway, back to the good stuff. The preview video, clocking in at 1:13, definitely draws the politically-conscious viewer in right off the back. It starts out with ominous music on a black screen with a debut date (Aug. 2) and flashes STARRING... followed by a quick clip from each of the candidates’ interviews. 

It starts off with a bit from the Lyle Hojem interview, where the former woodsman remarks “I can do any damn thing I want to!”

This, based on my memorable experiences with Hojem, is pretty much how he starts all of his conversations. That might not be the best way to win over a crowd in, say, Berkeley, but a no-nonsense attitude and hickory shirt will go a long way in a county with Packwood, Pe Ell, Morton and Winlock on the map. 

Another interesting preview is the Chuck Bojarski portion, where he talks about drinking beer while his friends were “smoking” something called “Maui Wowi” (which I, being a morally sound individual, am unfamiliar with) in the jungle. How this applies to running for state senate I’ll never know (unless I watch the full video), but it makes for a good sound bite.

Other than that there’s only a few surprises. Among them: John Penberth remembering he wasn’t running for president of a Florida retirement home and ditching his normal Hawaiian shirt for a suit and tie, and Bill Schulte’s quick exit after delivering his no-deal speech. 

The final cuts will contain about 10 minutes from each candidate and go online Aug. 2, as well as the uncut, extended versions (about 45 minutes apiece). Keep your eyes peeled and your mind open. 

Monday, July 14, 2008

Live From The Aerie...

... It's Monday afternoon!

I’m at a Chamber of Commerce banquet luncheon right now, sitting at the “press table” with Buddy Rose (DeVaul Publishing) and a somewhat wary Commissioner Lee Grose. Buddy told me he has a week and a half to write his story, whereas I have just an hour. Touche’, Buddy. 

It’s been a running joke in the Newsroom that there are two people you can always count on seeing at a public meeting: Commissioner Ron Averill and Lewis County Literacy Council Executive Director Keith Blackwell. 

Not surprisingly, Averill walked in about five steps before me and Keith Blackwell just won the first drawing of the day. 

Averill just joked to him that “You can’t leave your card anymore, Keith.”

Other notables: Commission hopeful Lyle Hojem, in his trademark hickory shirt, work jeans and suspenders (possibly having just finished tough talking someone); Senate hopeful Ted Shannon, looking sporty in a polo and tennis shoes (as I typed this, Shannon just won a gift certificate to Starbucks); and a table of school superintendents (Centralia, Onalaska, Winlock and Toledo were represented). Today’s forum is on county impact fees, hence the school chiefs’ interest. 

So far I’ve learned that A) there’s spots open in some kind of golf tournament, and B) YOU MUST BE PRESENT TO WIN.

Someone just won something in yet another drawing. Commissioner Grose, under his breath, grumbled “You gotta be here,” about two seconds before Chamber Executive Director Vernadel Peterson announced that the winner, Spencer Pruitt, wouldn’t get his prize because “You have to be here.” Good call, Commish. 

“We can’t hear back here!” someone yelled to get Vernadel to speak up. Tough crowd.

Earlier, I overheard local community-service guru Harlan Thompson being introduced to someone: “I’m — old,” he said, with his Harlan smile. 

Marnie Allen, one of the guest speakers, just started talking. Seconds later, Lee Grose leaned over, said nothing, and stole the free “Coffee News” pen I’d picked up on my way in. No, “Hey I’m gonna borrow this,” just a cold-hearted grab. You’d think he ran the county. Damn it. Looks like he’s filling out a registration sheet for the Visiting Nurses Golf Tournament. 

I suppose I should take notes now. Good thing I’ve got a laptop or I’d be up the creek, what with Thievin’ Lee sitting next to me.

Newsflash! Lee returned my pen, adding a “Thanks.” Today’s lesson from Packwood: better to thank the victim than ask permission. 

Newsflash! I think I’ve seen Marnie give this speech three times now. I could almost give it myself, if I weren’t protecting my sunglasses from Commissioner Grose.

Ron Averill has a question. He’s almost reached the Paris Hilton “Known For Being Known” level of local fame, only he's known for being active as a commissioner.

“I assure you that it’s correct,” he said, regarding something on the narrow shoulder between on- and off-topic. This is not Commissioner Averill’s first rodeo.

Lee Grose just moved the chair next to me and knocked over my laptop bag and bottle of Coke Zero. He looked down nonchalantly and said he was sorry. I believe him. 

Marnie started listing off schools that have facilities plans. 

“Napavine HAS an impact fee,” Averill said.

Some lady is angry about a SEPA that didn’t get asked for in Napavine, and taking it out on poor Marnie. I don’t think she knows Marnie isn’t in charge of every piece of school financing in the Northwest. 

“They blew it on the SEPA!” said the aforementioned audience member. 

Where’s Nick Bozarth at? Shouldn’t he be here to field questions like this with a boyish smile and an “Aw, shucks, I’ma sorry.”

Averill interjects again on something the county does. 

I was almost able to log into Centralia’s wireless network while sitting at this meeting. The password? Centralia. Real original, guys. I sure hope that wasn’t you, Harlan. Or you, Ted Shannon. Or you, Realtor Dan Keahey (sitting by Shannon).

Lee Grose just put himself in timeout, with his head between his hands looking at the floor. Either that or my incessant typing is giving him a headache. Wait, someone just stopped talking, and now everyone’s clapping. Time for the Q and A session and then over-and-out. 

Someone, sitting with Ted Shannon, just asked a VERY specific question. Again, Marnie doesn’t have every district’s figures for the rest of the decade memorized. It’s just not possible, and asking her very pointedly isn’t going to help. 

Dale McDaniel (Onalaska superintendent) is talking about the five districts that will be impacted by the Fox Run development (at least that’s what the implication is. He hasn’t actually said “Fox Run”). He’s referring to them as the five districts, which sounds hilariously like Kevin on NBC’s The Office talking about the “Five Families” in the Scranton Business Park. 

Oops, meeting over. I hope you’ve learned as much as I have from this recap. I told Grose to toss my name on his golf roster. He’s already got a foursome but told me to show up in case one of them doesn’t.

Rock ‘n’ roll. 

Monday, July 7, 2008

Rest In Peace, Team Formerly Known as the Sonics


“Professional basketball in Seattle passed away Wednesday afternoon at 4 p.m. It was 41 years old. 

“The Seattle Supersonics were born to original owners Sam Schulman and Eugene Klein, and a loving fan base, in 1966. The team tasted success by winning the 1979 NBA Championship and made another notable run behind fan favorites Shawn Kemp and Gary Payton in 1996, before falling to the Chicago Bulls in the NBA Finals.

“The team lived in the Key Arena for most of its natural life, also taking residence in the Tacoma Dome and Kingdome on occasion. 

“The Supersonics are survived by younger siblings the Seahawks and Mariners.”

*****

The Supersonics are no more. Wednesday’s 4 p.m. announcement, in which Clay Bennett grinned like a kid who just stole his cousin’s Christmas presents, ended it.

All in all, though, it could have been worse. 

We’re an even distance between Portland and Seattle, and the better team stayed put. 

The Blazers have a ton of upside and add Greg Oden and Jerryd Bayless to last year’s league-surprise team, with All-Star Brandon Roy (a U.W. product) leading the way for coach (and former Sonic) Nate McMillan

Oklahoma’s sorry excuse for a team? Kevin Durant, three seven-footers that can’t run, jump or shoot, and a handful of guys who should be happy they’re not washing cars for a living. OKC’s draft pick, fourth overall, was Russell Westbrook. The same Russell Westbrook who scored 12 a game and dished out a whopping 4 assists this year at UCLA.

Watching the draft last Thursday I called my buddy and fellow hoops junkie Knotts to leave the following message: “RUSSELL WESTBROOK. THEY TOOK RUSSELL #$%!&*@ WESTBROOK. Not Kevin Love. Not Brook Lopez. RUSSELL #$%#&*@ WESTBROOK.”

Somewhere, not far away, Earl Watson is rolling his eyes. Why? Watson scored 14.7 a game and dished 5 assists a game in college. At UCLA. Seven years ago. What’s he doing now? He’s the Sonics’ occasional point guard. 

Congrats, OKC. You’ve got a career 7.4 ppg scorer and his unproven clone manning the point. 

It could have ended worse. Ray Allen ended the season with a championship ring; Rashard Lewis got a big paycheck and a starting job next to Dwight Howard, the best big man in the game; and PJ Carlesimo and Sam Presti get to wipe dust out of their eyes in Oklahoma City. All in all, not a bad tradeoff.

*****

I wrote the previous meandering paragraphs on Wednesday night. The next day a friend and I (who both, for some reason, had the day off of work) drove to Seattle to mourn the loss of the Sonics the only way we knew how: checking out the deals at the Sonics Team Store next to Key Arena. 

The team store was, I’m sure, busier than it’s ever been. At least four cash registers were running full speed, with lines almost to the back of the store. Everything was 75 percent off. I bought two authentic jerseys (regular price: $75, marked down to $30, plus another 75 percent off) for eight bucks each, but what I’d really wanted was a pair of game shorts. 

An employee, restocking hangers with Chris Wilcox jerseys, told me the staff had cleaned out the shorts section about a week earlier. They knew what was coming. 

He also said he’d bought five or six pieces of autographed memorabilia at a huge discount. 

“I’ve been flippin’ that (stuff) on Craigslist,” he told me, on the sly. It turns out the Sonics debacle, at every level, was about money. 

And, not to be left out, I’m now the proud owner of an authentic Seattle Supersonics Earl Watson jersey. 

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