Continued: Part 2: Crosby-Ironton racing against the clock

CROSBY, MINN. -- Every time Mike Gindorff walks through the school offices at Crosby-Ironton, he sees a colorful framed reminder of what the school means to him. On the wall is a photo from 1987, showing the Rangers basketball team that finished second in the Class A state tournament.

Gindorff, a biology teacher and the football coach at Crosby-Ironton, was a member of that team, one of 19 Rangers squads that have played in the boys' state tournament since 1932.

He and his wife, Wendy, who teaches fourth grade, have two children. Gindorff wants to see his kids grow up in his hometown and have experiences similar to his. But he fears that his school and his town might someday disappear.

"If we lose sports, we might as well lock the doors," he said. "Who wants to move to a school without sports? And who could sell a house here?"

When a referendum failed last year, the school board took drastic action. With a $750,000 budget shortfall for the 2008-09 school year, staffing, supplies and other areas went under the knife, and all sports and activities for 2008-09 were killed. That got everybody's attention.

"Cutting sports, that was never an option before," Gindorff said.

Community members jumped in to save those programs, raising more than $100,000. Details are still being ironed out, but that money, plus activity fees that will rise from $110 to $230, is expected to save all sports and activities for one more year.

After that, the guarantees end.

"The good news is we're going to have sports next year," superintendent Jamie Skjeveland said. "The bad news is it's a one-year fix.

"I would say that 75 percent of the donors this time around, as they were writing those checks for $1,000, $1,500, $2,000, said, 'This is not a marriage. We're going to help, but we're giving you advance notice right now; don't come back next year.' "

Reminders of 2005 teachers strike linger

Crosby and Ironton, twin towns in Crow Wing County, are 15 miles northeast of Brainerd. Crosby-Ironton made headlines in 2005 during a two-month teachers strike, and the scars remain.

One of the biggest is the school enrollment. Many families moved their children to neighboring schools during the strike, and a K-12 enrollment that was close to 1,600 a decade ago is now less than 1,200.

Today, 329 students who live in the Crosby-Ironton district attend school elsewhere; only 12 students who attend Crosby-Ironton reside in another district. And with state funding that pays more than $5,000 per student, it's easy to see why Crosby-Ironton is in trouble.

"Many of those kids [who left during the strike] never came back," said Skjeveland, who is in his second year at Crosby-Ironton. "We've been trying to stabilize and prevent the bleeding."

He said Crosby-Ironton is a clarion call for what ails Minnesota's public schools and the way they are funded by the state.

"We've got to figure out how to fix the system. It's sad, because education is at the heart of our democracy."

'People here have huge hearts'

School spirit, and fundraising, continue to flow. A high school variety show this spring brought in $2,000. Students were challenged to bring in donations; more money meant more teachers would show their dance moves in front of the kids. Principal Jim Christenson promised to get a purple-and-white Mohawk if students raised enough money ... which they did.

"At the beginning of the year, there was a lot of pessimism," said James Lueck, an 11th-grader who participates in band and choir. "People said, 'I'm going to go to a different school.' There were so many rumors flying around."

Everybody knows the future is not clear.

"People here have huge hearts," Skjeveland said. "They love their school and their community."

At the same time, he said paying higher activity fees "is going to be heart-wrenching for families."

When last year's levy votes were counted, Skjeveland said he was bewildered by the results. Towns were flooded with pro-levy yard signs, and there was no organized public effort to defeat the proposal.

Since that dark day, money has been raised and answers have been sought. There are no guarantees; rather, there are bleak predictions.

"This issue is going to separate ghost towns from thriving communities," Skjeveland said.