News on Virgil Development

Chicago Tribune
July 16, 1996

Profile: Virgil

By Mary Maguire
Tribune staff reporter

The suburban sprawl voraciously gobbling up farmland throughout the greater Chicago metro area will have to go around the Village of Virgil, where the village motto is "Rooted In The Past With Pride and Tradition."

Widely accepted notions of progress that define suddenly subdivision-rich suburbs like Geneva and St. Charles are not welcome here, where most of the 300 residents share the views of neighbor Vic Nistor, who said, "Growth is a cancer on the land," and "I don't want yuppies to find Virgil."

About two square miles in size, with fewer than 10 streets comprising its residential district, Virgil is the stereotypical rural small town. The main drag in town -- indeed, the only drag in town -- is Route 64, where cars blur past Virgil on their way to the comparatively teeming burgs of Sycamore and Lily Lake. Unlike those two communities, which are hurtling headlong into the grips of suburbia, Virgil has consciously elected to hold fast to its pastoral heritage.

"The goal for this community is to stay the same," said village President Mike Sauber. "We try not to let pressure from developers overwhelm us and take the quaintness away."

In fact, it was just such pressure that prompted Virgil to incorporate in 1990, when Kane County was planning to locate a landfill here. While this action gave Virgil the control necessary to block the landfill, not everyone in town is a fan of incorporation, thus adding a hint of tension to what might otherwise be described as their bucolic geniality. Some residents do not like the idea of village government telling them what to do, and virtually nobody is happy with the county's rise in property taxes.

"Eight years ago I was paying $1,000," said Nistor. "Now I'm up over $2,000, and we're not getting a lot for the money."

Virgil itself does not tax its residents, mainly because there is not a lot to pay for. Virgil has no streetlights, no school, no parks, no playgrounds, no water service and no sewage. Snow removal is done by Kane County or Campton Township. Money comes from sales taxes and funding from the county and state. The annual village budget is $50,000 to $60,000, which is used primarily to fix roads.

For all of this, however, there is an invaluable sense of solitude and familiarity in this village 50 miles west of the Loop. Besides the chirps of birds by day and crickets by night, the summer silence is broken only by the ubiquitous John Deere rider mowers and by the whoosh of traffic on Route 64.

"You feel safe here," said Beverly Ragan, who has lived in Virgil for 20 years. "We don't have to lock our doors at night, on the house or the car. And if you buy a new car here, you'd better tell your neighbors because they'll be suspicious if they see a strange car parked in front of your house."

Like almost everybody in Virgil, Ragan said that she and husband Ray do not like growth.

"We like it quiet," she said, adding, "If it grows up much more here, we'll move."

In view of the village's size and its organized resistance to development, Ragan's statement seems ironic to residents of more populous Chicagoland communities.

A drive through Virgil's downtown underscores the contrast, for there is a real sense of arrested -- if not reversed -- development. A store, a bank and a creamery that flourished earlier this century stand derelict, their varying stages of disrepair and neglect treading the border between rustic and decrepit. A railway used to run through town here, but the tracks are long gone and replaced by a bicycle trail. One of the only establishments obviously open for business here is the post office, though across the street a sign for Marqui Builders hints at a fledgling carpentry business trying its luck in one of the aged buildings.

The downtown strip runs parallel to Route 64, where two businesses, a tavern and an auto repair shop, still manage to survive. Norm's Garage is owned by Norm Tischhauser and his wife, Joyce. Norm's used to get a fair amount of business from the truck traffic that once frequented Route 64, but other highways and the Interstate have channeled customers away.

Norm's father-in-law started the business, and Norm himself took over on April 1, 1960. Like most of his neighbors, Norm said he sees things starting to change.

"I think growth is moving too fast," he said. "It used to be slow and quiet."

Norm said that he used to know everyone in the village, but that is no longer the case.

"The new people don't want to mix with the old," he said.

Despite prevailing sentiment to the contrary, there simply are not that many new people here compared with other burgeoning suburbs, and at the present rate of non-development, this will not change any time soon.

Ed Leuer, co-owner of Leuer Realty in neighboring Elburn, said that people in Virgil "aren't moving." The last time he recalled seeing a listing for Virgil was last year, though a recent drive through the village revealed two "For Sale" signs. Typically, a three-bedroom ranch in town lists for $125,000 to $135,000, he said.

"The houses are plain, but the lots are big, from a half to 1 acre. People don't build $300,000 homes there." Similarly, it is improbable they are going to because there is no land currently on the market in Virgil zoned for home building.

"You'd have to get the village to rezone, and that's not likely," Leuer said.

Though change may move at a glacial pace in Virgil, there are some signs. The former creamery, abandoned and tending toward deterioration, is for sale. One potential buyer's plans would include remodeling the building to house trucks.

Another sign is the change in the customers at Kirk Kresse's veterinary clinic next to the post office.

"I used to do food animals exclusively . . . primarily pigs and cows," Kresse said, "but now I'm caring for many more companion animals, like dogs and cats. It's a sure sign that suburbia is coming out this way."

No doubt this is further proof to some longtime Virgil residents that the town is going to the dogs.