Illinois Town Couldn’t Take Dying : Marketing: The community publicizes its assets and offers a bounty to entice newcomers. What’s more, the scheme is working.

In an era of dying small towns, Ohio paid a price to survive. The gritty community of 540 offered cash incentives of up to $5,000 to lure newcomers willing to trade big-city amenities for small-town charm.

The results surprised everyone.

Today, vacant homes are virtually non-existent. Most houses boast fresh paint, neatly mowed lawns and gardens sprouting flowers and vegetables. There is a new subdivision with sewers, water and electrical lines, and construction is under way on new houses.

City leaders also hope to land a federally subsidized housing project for older residents to free up even more houses for prospective buyers.

“The bounty (money) gets people’s attention. But it’s not the key to getting them here,” says Jack Piper, one of the program’s architects. “Visitors just get such a warm feeling about the community. They see why it’s such a great place to live.”

Two years ago, Ohio had little to offer. “We were suffering because our kids were moving out, our population was aging and we didn’t have any new jobs,” Piper says.

Dick Swanson helped organize a town meeting at which “we passed the hat and a couple dozen people chipped in.” The group formed the Ohio Growth Foundation to make one last attempt to generate some expansion.

In early 1989, the foundation launched a modest marketing campaign stressing friendly community life, top-notch schools and a crime-free environment, with the cash incentive as the centerpiece.

The foundation offers grants of $3,000 to anyone buying an existing house or $5,000 to buyers of newly built houses. The grants are to pay real estate taxes.

“The response was much greater than we anticipated. We weren’t ready for the calls we got,” Swanson said.

Ohio resembles dozens of remote towns sprinkled among the cornfields of rural Illinois. Its classic business district includes a post office, bank, feed store, beauty parlor, insurance agent’s office, attorney’s office, gas station, coffee shop and a couple of taverns.

Downtown is bisected by an abandoned railroad right-of-way. The tracks are long gone, a sign that often signals the demise of farming communities that had developed as rail stops where farmers shipped crops, bought seed, supplies and groceries and met friends.

What the railroad left behind in Ohio is Swanson’s huge grain elevator. He now ships grain by truck rather than boxcar.

The hog sale barn is closed. But Bill Sisler’s ice business thrives, along with his dairy that produces rich ice cream in flavors such as tin roof sundae.

The loss of rail service left Ohio with intersecting two-lane blacktops as the only link to Chicago, 105 miles east, and Peoria, 75 miles south.

Overcoming the remote location wasn’t the only obstacle to growth.

The transfusion generated by the cash incentive program had to wait for major surgery on the town’s heart: its classic old brick school, where grades kindergarten through 12 study under one roof in classrooms overlooking a tiny gymnasium and stage.

As the town’s population dropped over the years, enrollment at school dwindled, making it harder to find teachers and administrators.

Two years ago, only 40 children remained in high school and a budget deficit loomed. Demographic trends pointed to an aging population and a declining birthrate.

Rather than close the school and consolidate with another withering town, residents approved a 40% tax increase.

“I guess we’re crazy, but we think our kids are worth it,” Piper said. “It costs a lot to run our school. But we figure, if we spend money on schools and send them to college, maybe we won’t have to spend a lot of money on jails.”

But money alone didn’t solve the problem. A catalyst was needed to re-energize teachers and students alike, and integrate new ideas without disrupting the community’s comfortable family environment.

Frank Dagne was coaxed out of retirement from nearby Sterling-Rock Falls where he served as school superintendent and school board member. He agreed to help Ohio find a permanent administrator.

Four years later, he is still on the job and has relocated to Ohio. Dagne has caught Ohio fever and he’s glad he did.

One of his first moves was to hold private fund-raisers to buy a dozen computers for the school. In two years, he raised $8,000 from Ohio residents, many of whom don’t have children in school.

Next, he renovated a study hall into a library resource center. He also hired a retired band director to help build school spirit.

“We were down to eight students, most of whom couldn’t read music,” Dagne said. “I hired a retired band director, Dick Davis, and now we have 40 kids in band. They sound great and they are winning awards. And the community really supports it.

“It’s an example of the difference in the communal feeling of this town. People here really are friendlier and concerned about the kids. They really care.”

Tony DiCarro saw a news report about what Ohio calls a bounty while rehabilitating a house in Florida. “I was looking for the peace and quiet of a small town,” said DiCarro, who has relocated to Ohio and is gutting an old apartment house.

The cash incentive program has resulted in sales of 24 homes--leaving just one vacant house in town.