Philanthropy

He's never been to the North Pole. He's a bit too slim and much too tall, and his beard is still dark. Just like his namesake, though, "Salvage Santa" is putting in long hours in his Christmas workshop. The recycled bicycles, games and toys that retired police detective Mike Jones repairs, paints and polishes aren't new, but they're just fine with hundreds of needy girls and boys.

Since the late 1980s, Amitai Etzioni, a George Washington University sociology professor and founder of the fledgling "communitarian" movement, was a kind of cult figure to intellectually minded political centrists and scholars interested in the growing lack of civility in American life. As political debate grew ever more barbed and the demand for individual rights ever more shrill, Etzioni often seemed a lone voice in calling for a national renewal of civility.

The Lannan Foundation swept onto Los Angeles' art scene 10 years ago with the aura of a white knight. Endowed with $100 million from the estate of a self-educated financier who was a voracious collector of contemporary art, the organization was dedicated to promoting his interest in the visual and literary arts. It quickly became a major force in national cultural circles, reinforcing the city's status as a contemporary art destination. But now the foundation--named after J.

A nice, warm coat and a new pair of shoes. Every child should have such things. The fact that many do not broke a certain county welfare worker's heart. Broke it so badly that she vowed to make sure a thousand poor children in Los Angeles County would have new shoes and a new coat by Christmas. On Monday, she collected her thousandth pair of shoes. Now she's working full-bore on the coats. Call her "Grace," a woman who aches at what poverty does to children.

A Tarzana businessman donated $5,000 to Cleveland High School on Tuesday and pledged to raise $15,000 more. John McMillion, owner of Majestic Mortgage Co., gave the funds as part of the school's Wall of Honor program, which honors those who contribute at least $500 with a small plaque. McMillion's is the largest donation to the program so far, according to teacher Marshall Goldman, who oversees the fund raising effort. "This is not for overhead," Goldman said.

To the well wired, it must sometimes seem that Microsoft cofounder and CEO Bill Gates is trying to set up branch offices in people's brains. Since the Dark Ages of the mid-'70s, when he and a young partner first capitalized on their vision of a high-tech future, Microsoft's products, including 100 million copies of its Windows programs, have spread to personal computers worldwide.

Better economic times, greater consumer confidence and the Christmas spirit are prompting Americans to dig deeper than ever this season for charitable giving. The Salvation Army--the bellwether of Christmas charities--has been inviting citizens to fill its red kettles for more than 100 years. A sampling shows that donations are up as much as 30% this season over last, depending on the area. Last Christmas, the kettles brought in $66.4 million, while a mail campaign raised $107.1 million.

If it's more blessed to give than to receive, how come we know the names of the glitziest and wealthiest Americans--but not the most generous? Well, move over, Madonna. Step aside, Michael Jordan. Wipe that smile off your face, Michael Ovitz. Charitable giving just got a lot more glamorous--and you small-timers aren't even on the list. Slate magazine, Microsoft's venture into online publishing, has listed the names of America's most generous.

The Times Mirror Foundation is poised to make a commitment to donate $5 million over five years to the Walt Disney Concert Hall, the planned new home of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. The pledge, when approved, would represent the largest philanthropic gift ever initiated by the foundation. The donation represents the first gift to the Disney Hall campaign in more than a year. Other than a $2-million gift from the Ralph M.

The sun rising over the perfect day in Los Angeles sports first strikes the middle-aged owner of a small office-supply store. He is a casual jogger, climbing sorely out of his Agoura Hills bed, training for a marathon only because he thinks it will save a boy's life. Down in the inner city, a golf pro reports to work. He could hone his game and maybe make some money with it, if only he would stop giving free lessons to the kids who climb his fence and steal his range balls.