The Grabowskis and the Lewises are the kind of families -- and their teenagers are the students -- that the designers of the Pittsburgh Promise hope to entice to the city.

Claire Grabowski is part of Perry Traditional Academy's "Hometown High-Q" team. She appeared in the school's production of "Urinetown" and will be co-valedictorian when she graduates next month.

Daniel Lewis switched last fall from a parochial school, where he was struggling, to the city's Brashear High School, where -- counter to a common stereotype -- he has found the attentive teaching he needed. "It's the first time," he says, "that someone taught me how to write an essay."

As pleased as both families are with their choices, both were bitterly disappointed to learn recently that their children do not qualify for Promise college scholarships -- though for very different reasons.

Claire applied for early admission to Grove City College, found out Dec. 15 she'd been accepted and mailed her deposit check within hours. A few days later, a list of Promise-eligible schools was released.

Grove City wasn't on it.

Daniel's disappointment came earlier, when officials announced ninth grade would be the last in which students could transfer in and still qualify. Though he's lived in the city since he was 2 months old, he switched to public school for his sophomore year.

"I hate to say this, but it's just not fair," his mother Debra Lewis exclaims. "We live here. We pay taxes. We should be eligible."

Even over the phone, I think I can hear Promise spokesman John Ellis wince at this criticism. Though I find it valid, I wince a bit, too, since this is a pivotal moment in a campaign that could truly transform the city's future.

But the plight of each strapped family and passed-over student should be considered one at a time -- just as each scholarship will be.

One anonymous donor funds the nation's first such program in Kalamazoo, Mich. Hundreds of families from 32 states have moved there and property values have risen 8 percent to 10 percent in just the first two years.

The Pittsburgh Promise has just named Steelers legend Franco Harris to lead its board through the $135 million, community-wide fund-raising effort ahead.

And Pittsburgh's program, Mr. Ellis points out, will be considerably broader and more generous than Kalamazoo's. There, scholarships go only to kids attending public universities. The Pittsburgh Promise includes private colleges and universities inside Allegheny County, as well as approved trade and technical schools.

The Kalamazoo plan will pay only 65 percent to students who transfer in by ninth grade. In Pittsburgh it's 75 percent.

But the Lewises opted for a city school when the Promise was still just an idea being kicked around.

They made their choice before they knew they'd have anything to gain.

Debra Lewis asks, "Why not extend the sliding scale to higher grades -- say 50 percent for 10th-grade transfers" and so on? Makes sense to me -- especially in this start-up year, for people who made decisions before the Promise steering committee did.

For her, as a paralegal, and her husband, a former GE glassmaker who does hospital maintenance work now, a $2,500 tuition scholarship would determine where their son can enroll -- a local university or community college.

For Sue Grabowski, the absence of a $5,000-per-year scholarship will mean emptying her 401(k). "If they'd come out with the list [of eligible schools] in August, we'd have toured some of them." She submitted Claire's application to the Promise anyway, "because I want them to have to tell me no."

The Promise "must have clearly defined criteria in order to effectively manage the program," explained Mr. Ellis, who is also spokesman for the Pittsburgh Foundation, which administers the program. "Some people are going to find themselves on the other side of the fence. We sympathize, but we had to start somewhere."

Then why not truly consider the announced criteria a starting point? Why not reconsider certain decisions (which the newly appointed board is empowered to do), now that their unforeseen consequences are starting to be known?

Why, in fact, does the Promise favor public institutions over private? Its primary purpose, of course, is to bolster city school enrollment and expand the tax base. But since it's funded by private donations, not tax money, the program has no logical need to promote public universities over private.

Any booster will tell you that the Promise is meant to be a stimulus for the region's economy. Then why favor Philadelphia Community College over Grove City? Or Temple over Washington & Jefferson?

If this is to be a regional economic engine, then let it truly be one. Or go in the opposite direction, as some have argued, and make the list of eligible schools encompass the entire state.

From this point onward, families can't say they didn't know what the rules are. But for deserving families who've been caught unaware, it would be a pity if this great Promise proves empty.