It was late summer 2006, and the Franchino family heard the buzz that the city was considering closing Comstock Pool to build a water park elsewhere on Spokane’s South Hill. Wait a minute! Their Comstock Pool? No way. The family loved Comstock, even though four of the six Franchinos had been hit by a car, through no fault of their own, while crossing the street in front of the park in 2004.

They all recovered from the accident, and even in their most painful physical moments, they never lost their passion for Comstock – the park, the pool, the neighborhood. And so when they heard the pool might close, they wondered: Why wasn’t anyone doing something?

Then they decided together to do the “something.” The Franchino parents – Lou, a Spokane firefighter and home remodeler, and Hanna, a CPA – were having a very busy August 2006 and told the kids they’d have to take the lead. Hannabeth, the eldest, jumped in. Two months earlier, she had graduated from Lewis and Clark High School and remembered the words of John Hagney, her practicum-in-community-involvement teacher: When you want to change something, you have to get involved.

Hannabeth designed and ordered the “Save Comstock Pool” banner. She issued a press release. The media soon arrived. Hannabeth and the other Franchino kids – Luigi, Maria and Dominick, who now range in age from 9 to 15 – gave interviews. They set up a booth in Comstock Park. They handed out petitions. They ran out of petitions. They printed more. The neighbors got involved, taking handfuls of petitions door to door.

Dominick remembers: “We were blown away by how many people said, ‘We swam in it as kids.’ ” Luigi remembers staring at the lines of people waiting to sign petitions. “It was fun,” he says.

The Franchinos – and several neighbors – stayed involved after the 2006 swimming season ended. They did an outreach to other neighborhood groups to get them fired up about their own neighborhood pools. They presented petitions to the park board. They attended the meetings where consultants and citizens brainstormed the best way to do modern pools.

And when a proposed $78.4 million bond issue was finally announced last summer, the Franchinos and others who had researched this civic issue said, “It’s too much. Start more simply.” The bond proposal was modified. And the campaign began to persuade voters to approve a $43 million bond to pay for the replacement of five aging pools and the building of a new pool on the North Side.

Hanna was asked to serve on the Citizens for Pools and Play Committee, the group stumping for the bond issue. “I was so flattered,” she says.

She felt a bit out of her league, serving with park and recreation experts and community movers and shakers. But Hanna represented the families who love the pools, who swim in them each summer, and she confidently shared her opinions with committee members and citizens.

When the pools bond passed by a startling majority – nearly 69 percent said yes – even the Franchinos were surprised.

The lessons from the family’s civic activism continue. Maria, a fifth-grader at Wilson Elementary School, didn’t hesitate to get involved when she learned that the school’s talent show might be canceled. She and other students talked to the principal about the need to keep the show. They argued their case to the parent-teacher group. The talent show is back on.

Maria learned that kids don’t have to sit back and watch adults make all the decisions. “We can make a difference,” she says.

The Franchino family illustrates how civic activism can be taught and passed on, in the same way parents teach and role-model other traits, such as good manners and strong personal ethics.

“Even if you think your chances of success aren’t great, try anyway,” Lou says. In August 2006, the Franchino family decided they couldn’t wait for others to save their beloved pool. So they became the others. And look what a difference it made.