Corvallis Gazette-Times from Corvallis, Oregon • 9

Humility Marks Philomath 's Al Neet Ah i people and puns," she says. "He's one of the finest people you'd ever want to know and extremely fair in all his dealings," she adds. Mrs. Storm notes that Neet didn't fit at all into any of her preconceptions of what a superintendent should be like. "I was surprised at how he always has his door open and will see anyone or talk to anyone on the phone," she said.

"When he sees a freight man coming to make a delivery he'll jump up from his desk and be sure to open the door for the man," she explained. In the mornings, the secretaries say, Neet goes downtown to have coffee. It is not uncommon for him to take the district's chief maintenance man, Wilbur Miller, with him. Last week he told the secretaries that he likes to sit and talk with the loggers and the truckers at coffee time. It's all typical Neet to anyone who knows him.

The secretaries say they think their boss approaches his job in an up-to-date fashion," that he works hard to keep up with what's happening in education. In addition to his school duties, Neet, who was widowed slightly over a year ago, is rearing three children ranging in age from 8 to 12. He will tell you that he loves Philomath and its people and that his family likes it there. Finally, after more than an hour of prying, digging, baiting and groping, Neet says: "I feel that it's my primary job here to help coordinate and direct the efforts of others." The interview is complete; Neet said something about himself. ill'' that tells something about the diminutive man that people in Philomath seem to care a lot about.

To say Al Neet is a fiery leader of men is a mistake. He's a soft-spoken, slightly impish man who says he likes "things to run smoothly." In an interview that seeks to know more of how he operates, he will tell you that he believes in the team approach to administration, that no one man can be expected to have all the answers. He will give detailed explanations of how the district's school complex has evolved and how it is continuing to grow. He'll even tell you that five years ago Philomath had the Oregon "Teacher of the Year" on its staff. To bog you down further he'll trumpet the accomplishments of his staff and principals and the dedication of the school board, but when you boil it down for information on Neet you stand holding a giant glob of nothing.

But Neet can be buffaloed. Any man with an administrative position has a secretary. Neet, in fact, has two, and they are willing to talk about the man they call "boss." Eileen Abraham was there the night the school board hired Al Neet and she has been with him ever since. Marge Storm has been with the district for only a little over a year but she has been there long enough to know his quirks and ways. Mrs.

Abraham remembers thinking the night Neet was hired that he was too formal, too distinguished. "A lot of people don't realize the other side, the humorous side of him. He loves By Peter Scbenck Of The Gazette-Times i Humility in man is said to be a fine and desirable trait. But humility in the person of Neet, superintendent of Philomath School District 17J, can drive an inquiring reporter to distraction. Neet, head man in a smaller school district that has managed to ward off many of the educational ills facing other similar districts, just plain refuses to' say much about himself or the success of his district.

It's not that the man isn't willing, for, if anything, he is more than available, more than happy to answer questions, pleased that someone is interested in Philomath, but he's just simply incapable of giving himself any of the credit. Ask about his history the answer comes back like a computerized resume. Graduated from Lowell High School were the fighting Red attended Oregon College of Education and graduated in 1946 with four years in the Navy somewhere in between; taught in an Albany elementary school for 2 years and took a teaching job in Myrtle Creek. He was made superintendent of the Myrtle Creek District after being there three years and stayed in that position for 12 years, obtaining his master's degree from the University of Oregon during summer sessions. He then worked at UO for one year before taking the Philomath job in July 1965.

Yes, sir, it's all there. All but the part Philomaji Supt. Al Neet Cost Of Dying High But It Doesn't Have To PORTLAND, Ore. (AP) The cost of dying continues high, but there are options to reduce it. Moreover, says a Portland funeral director, the cost in Oregon and Washington was never as high as elsewhere in the In the decade since Jessica Mitford wrote "The American Way of Death" and Ruth Mul-vey Harmer wrote "The High Cost of Dying," the cost of funerals has been widely discussed.

And the consensus is that he price is high and can war but needn't. Mrs. Harmer wrote that nationally the average cost of an adult funeral had risen from $350 in 1935 to $1,100 in 1960 and was estimated at $1,400 in 1962. But William F. Finley a Portland funeral director, says the average cost now in Oregon and Washington is $750 to $800.

He called this the lowest in the country and attributed it to "the inclination of the people not to spend large sums on fu nerals." But the $750 to $800 average is for the funeral. Still to be met is the cemetery charge a lot for $100 or $150 or more, a charge for a grave liner required by most cemeteries, the fee for opening and closing the grave, and a marker for from $75 upward. The result: A funeral and burial cost of $1,000 to $1,100. Cremation could reduce the figures by $150 to $200. Finley says if elaborate caskets and extra services are wanted the costs can skyrocket.

"I doubt if the cost of a funeral in Oregon has ever gone over $5,000," he says, but as that elsewhere, notably in the east, some have been far more. Some persons think $1,000 for funeral and burial is excessive. They think, too, that the traditional funeral itself needs major reform. Among these are the 4,500 members of the Oregon Memorial Association, an organization formed in 1961 and modeled on the People's Memorial Association of Seattle and similar to more than 80 other groups throughout the country. These associations "encourage members to consider prompt disposal of the remains followed by a memorial service," says Carol Byers, executive secretary of the Oregon association.

"We try to help people accept the idea of death and to plan ahead. We seek funeral reform' through education." And then she makes this point about traditional funerals: ''There is too much emphasis on the body and not enough on the soul." Members of the Oregon Memorial Association pay a $10 family fee to enroll, then pay $250 at the time of death for mortuary, cremation and necessary legal papers. Disposal of the ashes in an urn, by burial, or scattered at sea or over the mountains will add about $35. A memorial service can follow at any time and any place in the home, in a garden, in a church. virtually no promotional efforts.

The people, she says, are beginning to accept the concept of a memorial service as a substitute for the traditional funeral. Funeral directors, she says, "hate us with a passion" for introducing the idea of funeral reform and for offering a low-cost service. Until the association was formed, she says, it was "difficult to secure on a dignified basis" the minimum services now available. She says funeral directors try to steer families away from a memorial service at minimum cost and are likely to add extras. "Walk in off the street and see," she suggested.

A series of interviews with funeral directors who were asked only to outline their low-cost services disclosed charges for "disposing of the remains" of $250 to $322.50 with the fee for storage of the ashes not included. All said they would provide this minimal service or any other meeting the wishes of the survivors. They also added that survivors most often found consolation in a traditional funeral both for remembrance and for providing a dignified and definite starting point from which they would have to carry on alone. In addition to the minimal $250 to $322.50 service, they listed what they called rock-bottom prices for traditional funerals with $641 the lowest figure quoted. Cemetery lots, burial and gave markers were additional costs, putting the very cheapest traditional funeral and burial close to $900.

Mrs. Byers says it's a mistake to think only of price and to consider the memorial association as primarily a source for low-cost disposal of the body. Funeral reform to achieve simple dignity and memorial remembrance is equally important in its goals. A growing number of persons each year choose another alternative to the traditional funeral and burial: they make a bequest of their body to the University of Oregon Medical Mrs. Byers says the Oregon association's fee is about in the middle range for memorial associations and Seattle's is somewhat less.

"A memorial service needn't cost extra if you can get away from the idea of having the body present," Mrs. Byers says. "Having the body present is what costs" because of embalming," casket, chapel and related expenses. Funeral directors agree this is so, but add they can and do provide the same service for substantially the same price if that is what the survivors want. They say that generally, however, survivors take greater consolation from the traditional funeral.

Mrs. Byers says that's one point of reform sought through educating the people to accept prompt disposal of the body. Finley says the Oregon Memorial Association hasn't really caught on and hasn't been much of a factor so far. Mrs. Byers disputes this.

She says an average of 62 members are added each month to the present 4,500 with School, and notify a funeral director in advance to handle the details. Ernest Hage, in charge of the program at UOMS, says there is a real need for bodies in training doctors. Some bodies cannot, for one reason or another, be accepted, he says, and won't be if a close relative objects. Those wishing to make such a bequest will receive the necessary forms on application to the school's anatomy department. Financial help in meeting costs of any type funeral is available at the death of wartime military veterans and for everyone on Social Security.

The Veterans Administration makes a flat allowance of $250. The Social Security payment is three times the monthly benefit up to a maximum of $255. Those eligible for both will receive both, on application, cutting the minimum traditional bill about in half and providing a surplus for those who choose a memorial service. 80 Students Live At Crane School -if records show 85 per cent of its graduates go on to some form of higher education. About 25 per cent have earned college degrees.

With 10 teachers, the student-teacher ratio at Crane is about 8 to 1, far better than the state average. Still, most teachers handle several jobs. Mrs. Carson Valentine, who with her husband has been at Crane 14 years, is the school librarian, teaches English, journalism and is adviser to the school newspaper and literary magazine. Jim Wiley teaches general science, biology, chemistry, physics, photography and driver education.

There is little teacher turnover. But then, recruiting is unique. Aside from academic qualifications, "We look for a good hunter and fisherman," grins principal Thorne. "Once we find them, they don't want to leave." The present school and dormitory were built in 1967 at a cost of $893,000 after the old building burned to the ground. Parents in the sprawling school district voted overwhelmingly to rebuild rather than send their youngsters to high school in Burns, the county seat, and subject them to the tarnish of big city living.

The population of Burns, largest city in the county, is 3.293, The new facilities are spar-tanly modern. The equipment in the many vocational shops is the finest. The monthly food bill is $3,000 and provides for come to school Sunday night, traveling as much as 135 miles, and leave for weekends at home Friday afternoon. In the interim they lead a seemingly happy existence that falls somewhere between college dormitory life and marine boot camp. Those who drive to school deposit their cars in the parking lot and their car keys at the office, where they pick them up when they're ready to head home.

They live in a modern, comfortably simple dormitory, girls upstairs, boys down. They rise at 6:30 a.m. to a typical ranch-style breakfast that might include ham, bacon, french toast, eggs, steak, biscuits and gravy. They follow a regimen of classes, meals, chores, job training and athletics that ex- tends through 8 or 9 p.m. and largely approximates the down-to-earth ranch life in which most were reared.

"We cover all the bases reads the school's curriculum handbook. Boys take home economics. Girls routinely study welding, auto mechanics, pipe fitting and woodworking, the practicality of which was demonstrated when three girls, horsing around in the dorm, broke the leg off an upholstered They hauled the chair over to the wood shop, fixed it and hauled it back, eliminating the need for discipline and red tape, neither of which is a big deal at Crane. The school also offers a full academic program and an 8:30 p.m. snack, voted by the school district to control ravenous appetites and hold contraband food in the dorm to a minimum.

The cost of keeping a student at Crane is $2,600 a year, met through property taxes and state aid. The state contributes the same per-pupil transportation allowance it gives every other public school. Crane uses this money to run the dormitory and the students take care of their own transportation. The heavy railroad service that once made this bustling cattle industry hub is gone now. Construction classes use the town's abandoned buildings for work projects.

Two freight trains barrel through each day. They don't stop anymore. The air here is crisp and pure, the winters bitter cold, the snow frequent and heavy and. a stone's throw from the school, the predominant inhabitants are coyotes and jack rabbits. The effect? "These kids see each other every day, all day," says Thorne.

"Everyone has lots of time to learn each other's good and bad points. We have a generally happy and busy family." But. "If they're penned up too long they get to acting like brothers and sisters. A couple of nights at home and away from each other smooths them out." CRANE, Ore. (AP) At Crane Union High School the girls are girls and the boys are boys and a hippy is somebody who's a little heavy in the south quarter.

There's no smokin', drinkin', cussin' or messin' around and the burning question of the day is where to spit your tobacco juice. Which was the subject of a recent school board meeting. "I strongly suggested that the boys bring a spittoon and be responsible for cleaning it," said Maurice Thorne, superintendent and principal. But board chairman Naomi Arnold held as how he just ought to get the chewers to sharpen up their aim. "I got three at home who chew," she said, "and they're not dirty about it." Crane Union High is said to be the country's only public boarding school.

It sits at the base of a lava bluff in the foothills of the Crane Creek Mountains, a forlorn outpost in the desolation of Eastern Oregon's high desert country It's 100 lonely miles south to the Nevada line, 80 east to Idaho. Zip code 97732. The school was opened in-1924 to serve a dozen outlying ranching communities scattered over Harney County's 10,000 square miles of sage brush and juniper. None of the settlements had the money, or the students, for its own high school. And the outlandish idea of education beyond the eighth grade was just taking hold.

Today, Crane's 80 students jj'" jr. 3 i. -VV A l7fU No More Trains The town of Crane would be completely deserted without the Crone Union High School, believed to be the nation's only boarding school. The freight trains don stop here anymore. (AP).