Neyland Clark can single out the worst day of his life in a heartbeat.

It wasn't during any district upheavals, although the Cape Girardeau school superintendent has had his share in Indiana, Kentucky and Cape Girardeau.

No, it was the day in 1978 his thesis was stolen from the front seat of his rattletrap car. As a result, he had to wait a whole year to get his specialist degree.

"It still brings tears to my eyes," he says softly.

He had left his briefcase in the car after a back-to-school night. It was before the days of affordable home computers and copy machines at every corner. There was no backup copy.

For months afterward, his wife Diane loaded their fair-haired toddler on the back of her bike, searching neighborhood garbage bins "for daddy's papers."

The Clarks shared the painful memory across the dining room table last week during an interview at their cozy Cape Girardeau home, filled with family photographs and mementos.

In case you are wondering, the 44-year-old superintendent was named after the University of Tennessee football legend "General" Bob Neyland.

The Clarks are a study in contrasts.

"I'm a very ho-hum individual," Neyland says with a shrug. "I wear the button-down collars and wing-tipped shoes. Diane always says she can spot a superintendent from a crowd of 100,000."

Diane laughs in agreement.

"There's the excitement in the family," he says, pointing to his smartly-dressed wife.

"I'm full of piss and vinegar, as my daddy would say," says Diane. "I remember one woman in Bullitt County who told me superintendent wives shouldn't wear blue jeans and sweat shirts. I told her there's a new generation of superintendents and a new generation of superintendent's wives and this one wears blue jeans and sweatshirts. I like to relax and enjoy life." Bullitt County is in Kentucky, where they lived for awhile.

But both chose a life of service, Neyland in education and Diane as a nurse. She works in patient rehabilitation at St. Francis Medical Center.

While Diane worries about day-to-day concerns, Neyland is always thinking about the future.

"Neyland has been that way since we were first married," she says. "He's such a methodical and visionary person. I was worried about how to get the diapers washed or get dinner on the table, and he was thinking about things for the kids five years down the road. I do better in patient care in the trenches. But I appreciate the folks with vision who are planning where we need to move."

They have three boys. Chris, 19, will start college this fall at Indiana University Southeast. Joe, 16, will be a junior at Cape Central High School. And Greg, 14, will be a freshman at Cape Central.

Through all their moves and professional challenges, the family has remained close.

The Clarks were ill-prepared for the personal attacks against the family over this year's graduation flap in Cape Girardeau.

The week of graduation in June, Clark allowed seniors who hadn't met all requirements to participate in the ceremonies. A number of students and patrons were outraged at what they saw as favoritism. One of the students involved was a friend of the superintendent's son. He emphasizes there were seven students involved, not just one as some people think.

But the complaints didn't stop at the office.

"I'll be candid. When I come home and my wife is in tears, it hurts. You try to build a sanctity behind the closed doors of your home, but comments made to my children hurt. The threatening phone calls came as a rude awakening."

At times, it is hard not to go on the offensive.

Diane crystalizes her thoughts: "The wounds run deep. I'm rubbing Vitamin E on myself so I don't scar. I don't want to end up a bitter old woman. I want to stay as wholesome as possible and I have to keep reminding myself. One day I'm going to write a book, "I'm Living in a Fishbowl and Turning into a Piranha."

When the cruelties filter down to their children, the wounds certainly do run deep.

Diane lists some of the things that people have done recently: "They have thrown things in the yard, poured stuff in my son's gasoline tank. Two cars had nails in the tires a couple of weeks ago. On several occasions, they've flung wet Tampax on the siding of our house."

Her eyes brim with tears.

"Don't cry," Neyland says gently. "You promised you wouldn't cry."

She apologizes and slips into the kitchen.

"We'll get through this," he says, watching the empty doorway. "Obviously it hurts. If I did not have the type of family I have and the support from Diane and the boys, these issues would be insurmountable."

Neyland Clark stands by his graduation decision, although he confesses having some reservations about the timing.

"I have every reason to believe that in years past certain students were allowed to go through graduation without meeting all the requirements. It was a gross inequity. I don't think any system or any individual should pick or chose."

Neyland stands accused of doing the very thing he says he was trying to stop.

He remains angry over accusations by former principal Dan Milligan that he wanted "sordid, illegal things done to help one kid."

He seems particularly irritated by Milligan's implication of a comment Neyland made to "work your magic." He digs through a box of papers, triumphantly extracting a document bearing the Walt Disney Corp. logo.

The last name on a page of educator comments about the Disney Educator Program is Neyland Clark, calling the program "up to date, informative, magical."

He tells his secretary to "work her magic" most every morning. "There's nothing illegal about it."

Clark has no intention of stepping down as superintendent.

He has served as superintendent three years and wouldn't mind staying 10.

He feels the district is on the verge of moving forward and already has good education practices in place.

"I've put a team together. It's like putting an orchestra together. At the last minute, I can't hand the baton over to another director. I want to direct this beautiful orchestra that's ready to play."

Both Neyland and Diane call Jeffersonville, Ind., home. It is a river town about the size of Cape Girardeau, although with big-city influences from nearby Louisville. They met at Indiana University at Bloomington and married a month after graduation 22 years ago.

Neyland first majored in music -- flute to be exact. But a conflict with one of his principal instructors prompted him to switch his major. This time he settled on education, with an emphasis in economics.

He spent his first year teaching in a parochial setting in Jeffersonville. He opted the second year for the public setting. He even served a stint as athletic director and coach of junior high track and basketball.

Diane worked at the old Louisville General Hospital in the trauma ward. "While I was teaching, she was putting bodies back together," he says.

The family moved to Brown County, Ind., in the fall of 1978 where Neyland moved into administration. He served as assistant principal at the high school.

"I was probably a frustrated classroom teacher who felt I could do a better job than the administration in the building," he says. "At the same time, I wanted to have a greater influence in terms of education in the building and where the district was going."

It was also one of his first experiences with district upheavals, although not of his own making. The board was planning a new middle school, and the politics were volatile. The principal and superintendent who hired him ended up as teachers in his building by the end of the second year.

"We faced a lot of issues and problems that I was ill-prepared to deal with, but I learned by necessity." Neyland credits his program of study at Indiana University, which he calls one of the best in the country. When times get tough, he still calls on his mentors at the university for advice.

"When you study with giants, you have a responsibility to do well."

Neyland left on good terms to finish his doctorate. In fact, the Brown County school board denied his leave of absence request the first two times.

He earned his doctorate in the spring of 1984 on the heels of dozens of national education reports he had studied as a student, including "A Nation at Risk."

Neyland returned to Brown County as assistant superintendent. The district continued to battle political unrest, but he grew as an administrator.

After three years, he left to become superintendent in Bullitt County, the sixth largest school district in Kentucky. He directed a staff of 1,150, including 600 teachers.

"Superintendents were like God in Kentucky. They ruled with an ironclad fist, but I didn't intend to prescribe to that," Neyland says.

He took over for a superintendent of 22 years who was asked to resign. Neyland found the next three years to be one of the biggest challenges of his life.

"It was a very difficult time due to union activities. The politics were unbelievable. You almost have to live through it to believe it."

He thinks the National Education Association targeted Kentucky as a non-collective bargaining state, and his school district in particular.

"I was familiar with the NEA since I came out of a collective bargaining state. I had been a NEA member at one time," he says.

The NEA, says Neyland, uses the Alinsky model, which is change by conflict. "We saw the Alinsky model in motion: If you're not with us, you're against us. That's the mentality taken."

While the group wasn't the majority, they were very vocal in their demands. The relationship between the board and teacher representatives grew confrontational.

One day an FBI agent approached the Clarks. "They felt our phone line had been tapped by union activity and that our mail had been tampered with," he says.

At the same time, Kentucky was going through a reform act to remove good-old-boy politics and nepotism from governmental contracts, including schools. This created hard feelings as well.

In those three short years, the board that hired Neyland had changed as board members opted not to run again or were defeated. He says his philosophy and vision no longer matched the new board. Neyland was asked to resign.

Diane says, "We left with grace and dignity and held our heads up. We didn't slam people, and we didn't look back."

Next stop for the Clark family: Cape Girardeau, again replacing a superintendent who was asked to leave.

From the start, he faced many challenges in the Cape Girardeau schools. One of his first major tasks was to balance the budget by trimming $1.2 million. It didn't happen without hard feelings.

In recent months, Neyland has found himself at the center of a storm. A group of about 50 parents are currently circulating petitions seeking his resignation.

But Clark doesn't consider himself embattled. "I am acting at the direction of a collective board. Some of those issues have been very tough issues."

Charges of not listening to patrons and downright arrogance top a long list of concerns.

He isn't taking the concerns lightly.

"These people don't realize they're one of many publics I listen to. My responsibility, along with the board, is to listen to all constituencies. A number of people are angry not because I don't listen, but because they don't get the answer they want. I'd love to make everyone happy, but I don't have a big enough bag of resources."

People who consider him arrogant don't really know him, he says. It is a charge the board has discussed with him.

"I try to be friendly. But there are times, when I'm focusing on an issue, I might look right through people. Other times, I may use a form of arrogance as a defense mechanism. Fatigue is a real factor as well. On my third continuous 16-hour day, I'm a different individual than if you catch me when I'm fully charged."

Misinformation troubles Neyland -- some of it, he says, perpetuated by the media.

"I'm dismayed by the character assassination going on by some folks over issues that in most communities would not be grounds for terminating any employee."

Neyland feels part of his woes are created by an internal struggle by the district's two teacher groups: the small but vocal NEA, and the larger Missouri State Teachers Association. He feels the current petition drive is linked to NEA activity.

Neyland disputes claims he has gone against search committee recommendations at the high school and central office. Opponents point to a friend of the superintendent's, Timothy Niggle, who was hired as director of human resources in the central office.

"Dr. Niggle was on the original interview list, and the committee ultimately reached a consensus that he would be the best choice," he says, his voice rising. "The only reason he's here is he was the best candidate for the job. The only thing Dr. Niggle and I have in common is graduating in 1972 from the ninth largest university in the country. Is he my friend? Yes and no. We've never worked together, but I knew him. I didn't evoke any undue influence to get him hired."

While the buck stops at the superintendent's desk, Neyland says there is a system of checks and balances in place.

He is proud of his record in Cape Girardeau.

"Do we make mistakes? Sure, but I think we have a pretty good batting average."

At the top of his list of accomplishments: balancing the budget, rescuing a district that was eating away its fund balances.

He has worked to get more volunteers and senior citizens involved. Through his efforts, the district is more active with the Cape Girardeau Chamber of Commerce, aiding in the first Educator of the Year awards.

Under his leadership, the district implemented the drug-free, smoke-free, gun-free schools program.

"We've hired more women administrators. We established five-year financial projections. We set up a public school foundation," says Clark, perusing a three-page list of accomplishments.

One issue he "manhandled" was that of health insurance. As a result, the district is today self insured. That saved the taxpayers $400,000 a year. In the latest district survey, insurance earned the highest level of employee satisfaction.

While unhappy about recent criticisms, the Cape Girardeau superintendent isn't about to shy away from difficult issues. A district committee is studying redistricting.

"I've called my mentors, and they tell me to pack my bags on redistricting. They tell me you can't survive that political war. But that's because no one has done it well. It's a great challenge to me to do it the way it needs to be done."

Handling difficult situations, he says matter-of-factly, is just part of the job.