IT'S WORTH THE PRICE : ALTHOUGH TAFT FOOTBALL PLAYER LONNEL BLACK RISES AT 5 A.M. TO GO FROM SOUTH CENTRAL HOME TO WOODLAND HILLS, HE BELIEVES . . .

Byline: Gary Washburn Daily News Staff Writer

Each weekday morning at 5 a.m., Lonnel Black gets a page at his South Central Los Angeles home.

He would rather sleep. But that little beeping sound from his pager - courtesy of his girlfriend - reminds him that preparation for another long journey to Taft High School in Woodland Hills has begun.

When you are awakened at 5 a.m., it's difficult to be a hard sleeper.

``I'm used to it,'' Black says. ``But there are many days where I just want to sleep in. In fact, today is one of those days.''

A 185-pound defensive end for the Taft football team, Black is one of 70,000 students in Los Angeles who are voluntarily bused to schools within the district. He has taken the bus since seventh grade, when he first attended Parkman Middle School near Taft.

While most of his Taft classmates either walk, receive rides from parents or take shorter bus rides to school, Black wakes up five days a week at 5 a.m. in order to make his 6:20 a.m. school bus for the 37-mile trip. He is not alone. Hundreds of parents, in a quest for better education, send their kids to schools as much as 90 minutes from their home.

Black's bus stop on 122nd Street and Avalon is crowded with kids 6 years old and up, all headed to the San Fernando Valley.

As a member of the football team, Black participates in after-school practice and must take the 6 p.m. school bus back to his home. Trying to juggle football, academics, a social life and much-needed rest around his rigorous schedule is difficult.

What is it like? Spending an entire day with Black, the Daily News monitored the up and downs of a bused high school student. Is it worth the effort just for an education? How does it affect his football and academic performance?

5 a.m.: Black awakens a little groggy and gets dressed for this Tuesday school day. It's completely quiet in his home as he washes up, fixes some toast and throws on his high-top sneakers. Living with his grandmother, Black also has several responsibilities around the home.

Black enjoys the serene atmosphere. His South Central neighborhood is calm. The sun has yet to rise. In the cold of dawn, Black, sporting a white sweater, walks to his bus stop.

6:20 a.m.: Black arrives at his bus stop after the block and half walk. There are several other kids and five other buses that pass, picking up students. Black is the only high school student at his stop but often jokes with the middle school kids riding with him. Strangely, the bus stop is located at 122nd Street School, the would-be home school for many of the elementary kids attending school in the Valley.

The bus ride is an hour and 10 minutes to Taft.

8:07 a.m.: As a senior, Black's class schedule includes some relaxing electives. His first-period class, designing crafts, includes cutting out a colorful butterfly and pasting it on black cardboard paper.

``This allows me to rest a little bit,'' says Black, in class while a top-40 radio station plays in the background. ``Last year, I had a lot of tough classes, which made the bus ride even harder. Maybe this is my reward.''

Black feels comfortable with other students and is popular around campus. He continues to attend Taft primarily because of the familiarity and camaraderie with his classmates, most of whom also attended Parkman.

In his neighborhood, some of his buddies scoff at his sacrifices. They wonder why he doesn't just attend Locke, his home school.

``They call me crazy,'' Black says. ``They say I'm getting on the slave bus every day to play football for the white man. They don't understand. If I went to Locke, I wouldn't be doing well.''

Black had a 3.4 grade-point average last semester.

10:22 a.m.: The atmosphere at Taft is festive. Black sits among his football buddies at a lunch table during his nutrition break and discusses Monday's practice - among other things. Taft's racially mixed inhabitants all appear to get along - at least on this day.

Black's football buddies are mostly teen-agers like himself who are bused. Four of them call themselves ``The Riders,'' but not because of the long bus ride.

``It's a football thing,'' Black says. ``You have to do certain things to be a part of it.''

After jotting some definitions to fulfill the requirements of his second-period arts class, Black grabs some chips and doesn't appear tired.

11:06 a.m.: Black seems to lose his concentration in cooking class, reading a personal letter while the teacher is explaining the making of cookie dough. But he is attentive enough to participate in making the dough. Five of the other students in his cooking group are football players.

``Everybody here is friendly,'' Black says. ``That's why I like Taft. It's a comfortable atmosphere. You don't have to worry about getting into trouble because there isn't the tension.''

Black attended Gompers Middle School in his neighborhood for one year. He found trouble as soon as he arrived.

``Fighting and ditching,'' says Black, describing the trouble. ``I guess it was the people. I wanted to go to Parkman.''

One buddy from Gompers followed Black to Parkman. He was kicked out for fighting, leaving Black alone with strangers.

``After a while, I got to know people and it became fun,'' Black says. ``And I also got into football.''

Black says football is another reason for keeping him at Taft. He enjoys playing for coach Troy Starr and being a contributor on a perennially strong team.

``Black's a good kid and a hard worker,'' Starr says. ``I have to appreciate that dedication. He makes that trip and never gets in trouble or is any problem.''

12:46: After a quick sandwich, Black joins his teammates in a daily lunchtime football meeting, reviewing the upcoming opponent, Fairfax.

All the players pile into the school's new weight room and defensive coordinator Frank Grossman goes over defensive schemes. Black's in front, listening attentively, especially when Grossman points out that Black needs to play differently from the previous week because of Fairfax's offense.

Amazingly, Black's still energetic. He feels part of a collective movement. Despite the various backgrounds of the players, they mesh well.

1:15 p.m.: Practical writing, Black's most interesting class of the day. Not because of the subject matter but because of the substitute teacher, Mr. Summer, a middle-aged man who tells the class full of 17-year-olds he's been teaching for 39 years. Instead of rushing into the curriculum, Summer lectures the kids on the importance of going to school.

``Your parents ask you to do one thing, go to school,'' Summer says. ``You don't have to pay bills or rent, just go to school. You think schooling doesn't mean money. With my degrees, I've made a million dollars in my lifetime.''

Fatigue has set upon some students, two of whom bury their face in their arms and sleep on the desk. Summer notices.

``Why would you get up so early in the morning to catch the bus from L.A. to go here and you sleep during the day?'' Summer asks a sleeping student sitting directly behind Black.

He continues to sleep.

Black stays awake, even though he invokes several big yawns during the period. ``One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,'' is the class assignment. Summer orders students to read aloud, then carefully defines every difficult word in the chapter read.

``Chronic'' is one of the words defined. It is also a Generation X term for marijuana. A not-so studious student decides now is the time to participate and gives his personal definition. The class laughs.

Black remains quiet and attentive. Unlike several other students who use the substitute as an excuse to disrupt class, Black follows directions and counts the minutes until football practice.

``I'm always quiet. I don't know why,'' Black says. ``I guess I do all my talking on the football field. Other than that, I don't have much to say. But I always listen.''

2:46 p.m.: The late summer sun is relentless as football practice begins.

Already awake 10 hours, Black walks to the field in full football gear for 2-1/2 hours of full-contact workouts. There are no concessions for Black. He sweats along with kids who live two minutes from school and wake up 90 minutes later.

Black separates with the other defensive players to work on rushing drills. Every few minutes, the players are allowed to sip from the fountain of lukewarm water near the bench. Weariness sets in on Black. He's obviously tired, but there are 60 minutes of practice left.

Starr, sporting his long-brimmed straw hat, supervises scrimmages while Black, at defensive end, must get to the quarterback through a bigger offensive lineman every play.

``If it wasn't for football and my girlfriend, I wouldn't do this,'' Black says.

As the blazing sun begins to subside, the Taft football team continues to focus on fundamentals. Practice is almost over. But there's two more to sessions this week.

5:34 p.m.: Starr ends practice and the players huddle twice to do their team cheer correctly. Black walks slowly to the locker room, as do all the other players.

Tuesday is over.

``I'm tired,'' Black says. ``It's been a long day and a long practice.''

With loud music blasting, the players get dressed and ready to leave. Three large school buses line up beside the locker room. The bus drivers, all big football fans, wait patiently while the kids horse around until the very last minute.

Black sees his girlfriend driving up to campus and talks with her. While the buses slowly fill up, Black uses every last second for conversation - then says he'll call her when he gets home.

6:07 p.m.: The bus pulls off, ending another 10-hour excursion at Taft. Black winds down while the bus weaves its way through rush-hour traffic on the 405 Freeway.

7:51 p.m.: Black arrives home after the block and half walk from the bus stop. It's dark in South Central. But Black says he's not scared.

``If you have your helmet with you, usually people won't bother you,'' he says.

As soon as he walks in the door, Black gets undressed and jumps into the bathtub, then eats dinner.

He's tired. But he says Tuesday was no different than any other day. Five years of these daily journeys and he never complains. His bright smile shows that despite the sacrifices, he is happy. And it is worth it.

``It's really a better environment,'' Black says. ``I know that's why I do well at Taft. I'm a senior, I don't have too much longer to go.''

Some television, homework and a more telephone dialogue with his girlfriend fills out his evening. Eventually he falls asleep. Tomorrow awaits.

``And I start all over again,'' Black says. ``Another day.''

CAPTION(S):

6 Photos

Photo: (1,2,3) Lonnel Black, top, puts on his shoes befo re heading to the bus stop for the 6:20 a.m. pickup. In his fifth-period class, above, Black yawns as his early-morning start catches up with him. On the Taft practice field, Black fights off a blocker during a scrimmage.

(4) After a two-hour practice, Black (in dark shirt) trudges to the lockers with teammates.

(5--cover--color) no caption (Lonnel Black)

(6--cover--color) no caption (Lonnel Black entering school)

Andy Holzman / Special to the Daily News