Comstock family fighting for neighborhood’s soul

Lou Franchino, a Spokane firefighter, was in his backyard near Comstock Park when he heard sirens screaming into his South Hill neighborhood. Something really bad must have happened at Comstock, he thought, and a few minutes later fellow firefighters were at his home.

His wife, Hanna, his daughter Maria, and his two sons, Dominick and Luigi, had been hit by a car. Hit while crossing the street on the way to Comstock Pool for swimming lessons. Hit by an elderly driver who did not see the family and only pulled over because she wondered why a woman was sprawled across her windshield.

This happened June 15, 2004. Hanna and Maria suffered head, back and hip injuries. Dominick’s and Luigi’s injuries were not as serious. Another daughter, Hannabeth, was away at camp that day, thank goodness.

Lou is 44. He doesn’t choke up when he recounts that scary day now, but a distant look comes into his eyes.

Lou remembers helping Dr. Scott Edminster sew his daughter’s face back together the night of the accident, but he remembers just as vividly how the family borrowed an extra refrigerator to store all the food that neighbors carried to their home. The refrigerator was never empty during the six months it took Hanna and Maria to recover from the worst of it.

Lou has spent the best years of his adult life near Comstock. He also experienced the worst day of his life there. Comstock Pool is part of the bestness. So he’s leading the charge to save it.

Lou grew up in Asbury Park, N.J. He swam in a pool filled with salt water from the nearby sea. The pool closed in the 1970s, and the once-thriving neighborhood around the pool dried up, too.

Lou discovered Spokane in the 1980s when he was a KC-135 pilot stationed at Fairchild Air Force Base. He and Hanna bought a starter home in the Comstock neighborhood because it looked like the place happy childhood memories go to revive.

Their family grew, and they eventually built a large suburban home in the Spokane Valley. They sold it after only two years because they missed their Comstock neighborhood. They settled into a smaller brick home located a smile away from the park. They’ve never looked back.

Lou has no time, really, to take up this pool cause. On his days off from firefighting, he remodels homes and he’s booked with projects until 2008. Last week, Lou, Hanna and the four children, who now range in age from 7 to 18, set up a table at Comstock.

People lined up to sign their Save Comstock Pool petitions and neighbors walked door-to-door collecting more signatures. The closing of Comstock is included in an Aquatics Citizens Advisory Committee plan, presented last year to Spokane’s Park Board. It’s not a done deal by any means, but dialogue about the plan has been slow to ignite.

Lou’s action is changing that. He has collected 700 petitions so far. He’s done radio, TV and newspaper interviews, and he always shares credit for the effort. “I’m not a lone voice,” he said.

At Comstock Pool recently, Lou reached out his hand to touch the side of the poolhouse, built in 1937. “An old building has a smell, a feel, a soul,” he said.

Lou forgave the woman who almost killed his family, and the family never sued her. Lou refused to grow bitter, even though the accident has meant ongoing health issues for Hanna and Maria.

If you go to Spokane Symphony’s Labor Day concert at Comstock, look for Lou and his family sitting behind their Save Comstock Pool sign.

In these times of civic discord, it will boost your belief in the bestness of human beings to shake the hand of Lou Franchino, fighting now to save Comstock Pool and the soul of his neighborhood.