Full Text Copyright Times Publishing Co. Aug 21, 1997

Their lines were straight, their eyes front, lips sealed. Twenty-eight little men in primary colors standing on a newly laid blacktop, waiting to begin.

"This is a very important time for you and for us," said Academy Prep principal John Effinger, as he addressed the first class of 14 fifth- and 14 sixth-graders at the new, alternative inner-city school. "It's not very often you get to be first. And you're first."

Two years ago it still was just the dream of wealthy, retired businessman Jeff Fortune and his wife, lawyer Joan Fortune. Last spring it was plans on a blueprint and a fund-raising plea. Last month it was a strict summer camp of long hours and rigorous studies. On Wednesday, at 7:45 a.m., outside a building still not complete, it was reality.

"I think the world of you," Effinger told the boys, as the television cameras whirred and a circle of parents stood a few feet back to watch their sons in the morning assembly. Their pride was as palpable as the humidity in the morning air.

There was more at play here than simply the usual first-day-of-school ceremony. Many eyes are upon this school. Effinger, a former principal of elite private schools, said he is well aware of the pressure on both his staff and the boys to succeed.

"It can't be a fly-by-night operation. We have to be there for the community because we said we would be," he said.

He instructed the boys that their word for that day was integrity. He told them that each of them would be expected to be able to use it in a sentence by lunch.

The school, 2301 22nd Ave. S, is modeled after a private school in New York, where poor, inner-city students are pushed and prodded to succeed through tough curriculum and daily lessons in leadership and ethics.

From 77 applicants, 44 were culled to attend a summer camp to get the feel for the philosophy and the long hours of the school. Their only entrance requirements were sparks of leadership and a life below the poverty line.

From that camp, 28 were picked to be the first class of fifth- and sixth-graders. School will be six days a week, with arrival at 7:30 a.m. and departure at 5. Classes, from 8:30 a.m. until 3 p.m., will include reading, language skills, mathematics, science and even Latin.

Cheryl Jackson, one of the proud mothers at the assembly, said her son Marcus had a hard time sleeping the night before. He was that excited about school. Quite a change from last year when she saw his interest in school waning. The toughness of the summer camp did not dampen his enthusiasm. "He said, `Yeah, but we get to do cool things,' " his mother said.

Someday, the hope is to add seventh- and eighth-grade classes and include girls. On Wednesday, the staff was reveling in the fact that the desks arrived the day before.

Fortune, in blue jeans and faded polo shirt, was sweeping the parking lot at 7:15 a.m. His wife was there with a camera, as were Bob and Barbara Anders, co-founders of the school.

"We adults who said we're going to make it happen were modelling a behavior for the kids," Fortune said. So far, he said, about $450,000 has been spent to build the first building of classrooms. The school will operate on a yearly budget of about $220,000.

Still to come is a multipurpose building to house an assembly hall and cafeteria. There is no library yet, or a computer center or science lab. On this first day of school the boys would be eating their Trix for breakfast and fried chicken lunches at their desks because the picnic tables weren't set to arrive until later this week.

At 10 a.m., in Rosa Hemingway's fifth-grade math classes, the boys pore over their math problems. "Done!" announces one triumphantly.

A hand-lettered poster on the wall reads: "Only Your Best Is Good Enough!"

Hemingway is a 37-year veteran in the Pinellas schools. There is a mixture of ability levels in her classes of 14. She said she will structure the curriculum accordingly. Several of the boys said they were having trouble with multiplication - a skill they should have mastered in the third grade. Hemingway handed them a multiplication table and said they were to learn it by Friday.

Effinger said there has been much progress since the first days of summer camp. He said when a similar morning assembly was attempted then, it was a disaster. "This morning's exercise was light-years away from what it was in camp. It was like: `A line? what is a line?' "

Effinger also takes his turn in the classroom. In a 1 p.m. reading class, his method is low-key but one of zero tolerance.

"Did you raise your hand?" he demands of a student who called out an answer. `I didn't think so."

Later, another boy answers a question with, "Yes, he do."

Effinger looks horrified. "What did you say?"

"Yes, he does," the boy corrects himself.

In the middle of class, Thomas Wilkins, conductor of the Florida Orchestra, wanders in. He invites the class to an orchestra rehearsal and performance. He tells the boys he first became excited about music in the third grade.

"And you know what the coolest thing was?" Wilkins asks. "No one ever said, `Nah, you can't do that.' "

Nobody is telling these boys that, either.