Jamie Tobias Neely

How do you put a price tag on a teacher's finest hours? Exactly how many dollars and cents will compensate an excellent college professor for that instant when a new realm - whether math or music, or macroeconomics - suddenly yawns open in a student's life? The moment an English professor detects a struggling writer's authentic voice and nurtures it? The hour a religious studies instructor captivates an entire classroom and profoundly alters his students' thinking? In universities across the country, those priceless moments often are valued less than the knowledge - and grant money - generated by faculty research. A recent survey of Washington State University payroll records appears to show that the school's top teachers are paid significantly less than its top researchers. On a nine-month contract basis, the teachers average $59,068, $27,712 less than the researchers' average pay of $86,780.

For former welfare recipient Laura Askew, a job offer from the White House sounded as exciting as a free trip to Disneyland. "I was just overwhelmed," she said. "I called my sister. I was just hollering on the phone." Askew, 29, is exactly the type of person likely to succeed under the country's new welfare-to-work program. She had an employment history; she had been laid off from a plant in Raleigh, N.C. During the last year, she applied for welfare for the first time, and signed up for an office skills class. The White House mail clerk job, with a salary in the $18,000 to $20,000 range, became her storybook ending.

One day in early June the Washington State Patrol office handled two reports of road rage by noon. In the morning, one driver made a bad lane change on Interstate 90. Another driver responded by flipping him off and tailgating. Both pulled off the shoulder and jumped out of their cars. One man carried a gun; the other had a criminal record. Later that morning, several Lewis and Clark High School students sped down the freeway during their lunch hour. A woman was driving in the passing lane. Her boyfriend was a passenger.

I don't exhibit rage on the road; I incite it. I brake for practically everyone: Small boys chasing large red balls into the street. Elderly drivers peering through cataracts to navigate traffic lights. The random 3-year-old ambling down a main arterial without a parent.

All right, everybody, swallow hard. If, by the way, you happen to be looking in the mirror and notice any bulges on your thyroid gland as you swallow, you might want to see your doctor.

Migrant cherry pickers such as Marco Rantonio and Efigenia Clemente have been forced to camp in squalor this summer. Living conditions for the 16,000 migrant workers who move into Washington state for the cherry season might have improved had a bill passed during the last legislative session been allowed to become law.

The program for Justice William J. Brennan's funeral Tuesday was printed with one of his favorite quotations: "'Did you see an old woman going down the path?' asks Bridget. 'No, I did not,' replies Patrick, who had just arrived after the old woman left. 'But I saw a young girl,' he said, 'and she had the walk of a queen."' - William Butler Yeats. Supreme Court justices need big hearts as well as sharp minds to make wise decisions. Brennan had both. He treated the American people, particularly those whose voices usually went unheard, with dignity and respect. Woven through his astonishing legacy are the golden threads of warmth, compassion and firm belief in the rights of the individual.

1. Kay Marchant White, the manager of The Hidden Cottage at NorthTown, finds peace and relaxation in her Victorian store. Photo by Liz Kishimoto/The Spokesman-Review 2. Arlie Russell Hochschild's book, "The Time Bind," spawned an out-pouring of national media stories earlier this year, but the author says her findings were misinterpreted.

On a sunny Sunday afternoon in July, you can stroll through any of Spokane's traditional neighborhoods and recapture a luxurious sense of the past. You'll wander over ancient sidewalks, past an eclectic assortment of houses, through parks in full bloom. As your tour continues to a neighborhood grocery, ice cream parlor or espresso stand, you'll probably remain under a canopy of maple leaves.

There have always been parents who abandon their children emotionally, financially or both. James Cagney said of his father, "After he died, my mother found an old checkbook among his effects, and the stubs read as high as $150 and $200, all to his bookmaker. That money would have seemed a fortune to us if we had seen even half of it." On both ends of the political spectrum today, it's financial support that looms most important. But to children, emotional abandonment hurts worse. Ask any elementary school child. Many know of a classmate who clings to a treasured stuffed animal, a tattered photograph or a mythical tale about a dad who has disappeared, a mom who is missing.

The Senate's Medicare solution makes perfect sense: Stick those budget cuts to the generation everyone loves to hate. Last week the Senate voted to raise the minimum age for Medicare from 65 to 67. The beauty of this idea is that it won't affect anyone over age 59, and will gradually phase in as baby boomers age. Who can complain about a deal like that?

Mona Mendoza, the Spokane school equity worker who polarized the community by describing herself as a "feminist-Chicana-lesbian-activist," has packed her bags and moved to Seattle. But the issues she championed remain as pressing as ever: Jewish and Jehovah's Witness families may still feel excluded when the elementary music teacher presents a winter concert packed with traditional Christmas carols. African-American students may still feel singled out, even insulted, during English class discussions of "To Kill A Mockingbird."

When a 63-year-old California woman gave birth recently, Americans cried "foul." But when 77-year-old Tony Randall's baby was born last month, he made the talk show rounds and won standing ovations. We labor under a delusion about fathers. We fool ourselves into thinking a father's major contribution occurs at conception, while a mother's extends 18 years and beyond.

Imagine for a moment that Paula Jones' story is true and you're the $6.35-per-hour state employee invited by a state trooper to meet the governor. You're handing out name tags at a state-sponsored business conference, but you take a short break. You follow the trooper to the room, and there the governor, who can have you fired in an instant, unzips and requests oral sex.

Now that heroin is no longer chic, how can we trust the fashion industry to find glamorous images that won't threaten the well-being of the teens who emulate them? The industry has a lousy record. Even before it began displaying drug-addled models slumped against walls, suggestions of needle marks on their arms, fashion photographers and editors were making spectacularly irresponsible decisions. Throughout the '90s, the industry has peddled images of anorexia; Kate Moss may have been one of the few models who came by that figure naturally. Then there was Calvin Klein's soft-kiddie-porn ad campaign. In 1995, the Justice Department decided not to prosecute Klein. His ads may not have been illegal, but they certainly were wrong.

For most students in Spokane public schools, school's out on Friday, June 13, at 11:30 a.m. - leaving working parents once again scrambling for child care that afternoon. Before school reconvenes next fall, we have a simple question on behalf of all working parents: Can schools please come up with a schedule that reflects contemporary reality? We continue a schedule designed for farm families that needed their children to be home by midafternoon to milk cows, not watch "Rosie" and "Oprah." Parents wind up rearranging their schedules to accommodate school breaks, holidays and conference weeks.

1. Elana Marshall sits quietly after talking with students about the crash that killed her daughter. Photo by Torsten Kjellstrand/The Spokesman-Review 2. Below: James Barstad at the crash scene. Photo by Dan Pelle/The Spokesman-Review 3. Elana and Julie posed for photos at an arcade the day that Julie was killed in the crash. 4. Elana Marshall talks to students at Harrington High School. While she speaks, she uses a screen to show pictures of her daughter. Photo by Torsten Kjellstrand/The Spokesman-Review

Shakti Gawain, author of the "Creative Visualization," will speak at the expo next weekend.

America's first female B-52 pilot, facing a court-martial for adultery next week, has become the U.S. Air Force's new Hester Prynne.

FOR THE RECORD (May 17, 1997): Name incorrect: Memorial gifts for the late Vicki McNeill, former Spokane mayor, have been made to the Women Helping Women Endowment of Foundation Northwest. The fund was named incorrectly in a May 10 editorial.

1. Lucy Breckenridge in her later years, circa 1939. 2. She's pictured with her son John Henry.

Yep, she's gay. And nope, "Ellen" is not high art. Nonetheless, American pop culture took a step forward Wednesday night as we tuned in to watch "Ellen" come out. American television once again functioned in that curious, yet significant, role it plays in our culture. As with groundbreaking shows such as "All In The Family" and "M*A*S*H*," it managed to simultaneously reflect and accelerate cultural change.

When Catherine Rafferty's 86-year-old mother was young, the Spokane Symphony provided one of the few opportunities for "an evening of beauty and magic" in Spokane. Today, as concertgoers zoom to The Gorge and symphony audiences grow grayer, Rafferty will manage a new campaign to raise $3.5 million to $4.5 million for the symphony's endowment fund. She hopes to bring classical music to the next generations.

It's been another week in the Inland Northwest, where the men are tall, the women are good-looking and all the children are above average. Wait a minute. Make that where the parents are busy, the toddlers are contracting whooping cough and the bored 16-year-olds are exploding all over the Spokane Valley.