Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 21, 1993 TAG: 9303210023
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: D2 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
THE GHOST OF CONTRACTS PAST, FUTURE
Soon after Roanoke City's school year ends in June, Frank Tota will push his superintendent's chair from his desk, collect the last of his $100,000 salary for the year and move to his next challenge - this time as superintendent of schools in Dobbs Ferry, N.Y.The man may leave Big Lick, but his ghost will long linger.
In 1994, those of us blessed with the opportunity to pay our taxes in Roanoke city will chip in to pay Frank Tota $35,000.
Cruise around the Roanoke Valley today. Six of every 10 houses and apartments you'll see are home to working people who earn less in a year's time than Tota will accept from our public treasury - from 500 miles away.
Tota won't be working here and he won't be working for us, but heck, we've got money to burn. And a deal's a deal. Tota has a contract, negotiated on our behalf by a School Board adept at crying poverty. Somehow, the board's resolve about money dissolved in its dealings with Tota. Custodians? Teachers? Bus drivers? They were easy to deny.
We'll still be allowed, as per our contract, to call on Tota from time to time as a consultant. Whether this means Tota will be available to serve as chief cafeteria swab captain or will be asked to revamp our intercultural affairs curriculum is open to interpretation. Presumably, Tota won't have to work as hard - or as much - for his $35,000 as do the 54,000 households in our valley that earn less than that.
Regardless of what we ask Tota to do to earn the money - or if we ask anything of him at all - Wayne Harris, our incoming superintendent, will forever hear the chains of Tota's ghost rattling up the basement stairs.
Once 1994 ends, Tota's ghost won't blow away.
Frank's easy money will flow freely for a long time.
In 1995, we'll pay Frank $35,000 - again.
In 1996, we'll all pay our share to mail Frank a $35,000 check.
In 1997, we'll pass the hat and cut Frank another $35,000 check.
We'll do it again in 1998 and in 1999.
Finally, in 2000, we'll bleed our last $35,000 check for Frank, wherever he is by then.
Many of the people - not counting Wayne Harris - footing Tota's bill by the end of the millenium won't even know who he is. Nor will they have ever heard of him.
What may loom now as a large legacy - and Tota will leave behind some very positive prints - will fade with time. By the time we mail Tota his last check, we'll have forgotten why. Attorneys familiar with contractual law will be able to remind us.
It'll be our job, though, to remind our school board that we're spending $245,000 through the end of this century for a man who won't be showing up for work.
Granted most of the board members who lapped up Tota's sweet deal are gone. Their legacy? A monstrosity of a contract to fulfill.
As our superintendent of schools for a dozen years, Frank Tota leaves us with a valuable lesson: Public service doesn't necessarily require personal sacrifice.
Tota's ghost will offer refresher courses for the next seven years.