Their host, in a black beret and turtleneck, was a 6-foot-3-inch whirlwind named Thomas Henry Massaro, the drill sergeant of an eight-month boot camp to school the uninitiated in the workings of the $6 billion operation they would be overseeing.

His program: More than 150 speakers and 300 hours worth of seminars and field trips - some to the hospital room he often occupied as he fought off a debilitating illness over the last months.

Thursday's guest at Massaro's Arch Street home was Streets Department Commissioner Clarena Tolson. The lesson: What it takes to pick up 759,000 tons of trash, maintain 19,000 traffic lights, and fill 13,000 potholes every year.

Over Italian chicken sausage and vegetable frittata, freshman Council member Curtis Jones Jr. was shaking his head in amazement. Tolson had just told him a new traffic signal easily costs $75,000 ($100,000 is the average), and Jones had recently been beating his chest at a community meeting about the need for a new one in his district after a hit-and-run on Ridge Avenue.

Tolson told him stop signs are often more effective.

"So every time I do that it costs $75,000?" Jones gulped. He remembered the advice of Massaro, his mentor - "If it ain't measured, it ain't managed."

It was another class in the sobering education of new council members Jones, Bill Green, and Maria Quiñones Sanchez.

They have been at it two days a week, every week, since they won the May primary, and they expect to finish by month's end. The three Democrats spent Wednesdays and Thursdays, often all day, in an orientation so deep that longtime veterans of city government and politics have expressed awe.

They met with former managing directors Joe Certaine, Phil Goldsmith and Jim White and the heads of two universities. They toured the Navy Yard and the entire Fairmount Park system. They waited on line at a local health center, sat in on news meetings at the Daily News and Inquirer, and quizzed men at a homeless shelter. Lobbyists were not allowed.

Even some current Council members were jealous.

"I wore that shoe seven years ago that Curt, Maria and Bill are wearing now - and it hurt," said second-term Councilwoman Blondell Reynolds Brown, who sat in on a hospital-room session and helped provide documents through the process. "I didn't have the benefit of anyone actually coming to me . . . and saying, 'Here's some of the individuals you can speak to, or literature you can read.' "

Officially, new Council members get a two-hour briefing on legal and budget issues, a five-page flier on the legislative process, ethics training, and a meet-and-greet with city department heads.

But the more intense program was conjured up by Massaro, the former firebrand cabinet member hired by Green's father, Mayor Bill Green, in 1980.

"I tried to give them a broad exposure to people who need and consume city services," Massaro said. "There's so much for them to learn, and they shouldn't have to do it under pressure at a budget hearing."

In 1980 Massaro hired Jones and Chaka Fattah during his 11-month tenure as head of the Office of Housing and Community Development - at the same time he was laying off people he saw as blatant patronage hires.

Massaro, who arrived in Philadelphia at age 27 after making national headlines as the young reformer of Newark, N.J.'s dismal housing program, left the Green administration after less than a year because he either sought to bring about reform too quickly or couldn't handle the job, depending on various accounts at the time.

Massaro went on to become a project manager for House of Umoja in West Philadelphia, a developer, and later a project consultant who oversaw the restoration of the Barnes Foundation.

In 2003 Massaro was struck by a heart, lung and kidney condition while working on a restoration project in Italy. He was in the hospital for five months, and the illness has nearly killed him on several occasions. He has been in the hospital 11 times in the last year, but his friends believe that this colossal endeavor has energized him.

He remains a font of political passion, knowledge and connections, his battered body still game for anything, his jaw still strong enough to reel off long stories.

"He has two great attributes - a very sharp mind and an enthusiasm that apparently has no governor on it," said Walter D'Alessio, chairman of the boards of the Philadelphia Industrial Development Corp. and Independence Blue Cross, who became Massaro's ally in recruiting speakers and shaping ideas. "He's a public service junkie."

Massaro found that his many connections were eager to help when he explained what he was hoping to do with the new Council members.

"When I realized what Tom Massaro was doing, I said, . . . this and the mayor are the only jobs we hire people without any discussion, any training, any orientation, except, 'This is where you sit,' " D'Alessio said.

Another enthusiastic ally and speaker was Beverly Coleman, executive director of Neighborhood Now, a nonprofit targeting low- and moderate-income neighborhoods with smart development.

"The fact that people were giving up two days a week to learn was incredible," Coleman said. "It showed a commitment to learning about the city and learning about the issues and beginning their job fully informed."

Massaro said the whole production cost about $10,000, with Comcast, Independence Blue Cross, and Peco chipping in so the burden was not all on Massaro and the candidates.

In addition to the training that Councilwoman Brown termed "priceless," the three candidates, now Council members, forged a bond that was evident in their frank exchanges in their meeting last week.

"We've become great friends," Green said. "We all come from different places, and we've learned that we want the best of our city, especially the most needy."

That's the lesson, Massaro said, that all politicians should learn.