The 1 p.m. event had been touted to the media the day before, and television cameras and reporters awaited Vallas' arrival in the district headquarters auditorium. The five members of the commission, his bosses, were waiting, too.

But Vallas, feeling he had been unfairly scapegoated and tarnished for the district's budget deficit, had left the building an hour and a half earlier and had no intention of returning.

"I'm not coming. I'm done. I'm out of the building," he told a staffer by cell phone before the event Wednesday.

Later, with the meeting under way and the commission still waiting, a top aide called again, frantic to get him to return.

"I don't need to go through a phony resolution thing," Vallas told the aide.

"I'm tired," he said, turning his attention to a reporter. "I've got this [heart] arrhythmia. I'm beat up. I've got a headache. I've got boxes all over the house. . . . That's why I don't want to put up with any bulls-. I just want to go and get out."

Vallas, 54, who came to town in July 2002 like a dynamo bringing a wave of optimism to a beleaguered district, left office last week at odds not only with the board that hired him but also with Mayor Street. He will start as superintendent of the New Orleans district tomorrow.

The unrest has come despite his tenure's plethora of accomplishments, which have earned the district and him national recognition in recent weeks: substantial increases in elementary test scores, a proliferation of smaller theme-based high schools, a standardized curriculum, more certified teachers, and more programs for the youngest students and those most disruptive.

But those accomplishments became clouded by a $73 million "surprise" deficit that surfaced in the fall in the district's $2.02 billion budget and the ensuing power struggle between Vallas and his commission bosses. The district's money crunch is expected to force layoffs, the loss of supplemental arts programs, and other cuts in the months ahead.

The relationship between Vallas and the commission turned even icier in the spring. Vallas disclosed last week that Chairman James Nevels had summoned him and told him that he "no longer had the support of the commission" and that it was time for him to leave - an assertion that Nevels has denied.

Vallas, who earned $375,000 this school year, including performance and retention bonuses, leaves the district awash in another funding crisis while teachers, parents and educators wonder whether the good he did can be sustained and improved upon, or whether it was a mirage that will fade as money woes persist.

"For me, the jury's still out on what his final legacy will be," said Helen Gym, a parent and education activist, "but it's obvious we're going to be living with a deficit. That's a responsibility shared by the SRC, Vallas, the city and the state."

Gov. Rendell, in a telephone interview last week, blasted commissioners for failing to support Vallas and said they were as much to blame for the deficit as Vallas was.

"He did not get the support throughout his tenure that his accomplishments deserved," Rendell said.

He wishes Vallas were staying: "It's a real loss."

Some parents, including Keri White, who has two children at McCall School in Society Hill, still see Vallas as "a knight in shining armor" who delivered on promises as best as he could.

"I don't think you can do all these incredible things without spending money," White said. "And I think the fact that he is going on a sad note is sort of tragic."

While his fortunes faded in Philadelphia, his reputation soared nationally.

The Washington Post featured in a front page article last week the district's progress in lifting its lowest-performing students. A laudatory piece in Time on June 4 highlighted two elementary schools that made a dramatic turnaround. And Tuesday evening, as Vallas stood on the steps of the administration building on North Broad Street, he took a call from 60 Minutes, which wants to profile the New Orleans district.