For Chris Zerrusen, the pull of Teutopolis has always been strong. Yes, he left for college and followed work opportunities out of state, but he never stayed away for long. Born and raised in T-Town, Chris graduated with the Class of 2005 and quickly discovered that no matter where life led him—Indiana, Texas, or Northern Indiana—there was really only one place he wanted to plant his roots.

“Your whole network of resources are here,” he said. “Your family. Everything you’ve ever wanted or needed is here. I really enjoy the town, the community aspect.” That sense of belonging brought him back just a few short years after leaving, ready to build a life and raise a family in the same place that shaped his own.

Today, Chris and his wife are raising three children, spread across sixth grade, third grade, and kindergarten. This school year, all three are under the same roof—a fact that makes him chuckle, knowing how quickly that alignment will change. But it also sharpens his awareness of the challenges and opportunities facing Teutopolis schools right now. “This will be the only year they’re all in the same building,” he said. “And with facilities being such a hot topic, it’s on my mind every day.”

Like many in Teutopolis, Chris has a deep respect for the district’s history and for the community’s frugal, pragmatic values. “We’re not Mascoutah,” he said, “We don’t need anything wild or grandiose. We’re a bunch of farm people. We’ve done well with what we have, and we save our money.” For Chris, the question is not whether Teutopolis should invest in its schools, but how to square the community’s identity with its present-day needs. “It’s trying to juxtapose three things: who we are from a history standpoint, what we actually need, and how we get there pragmatically.”

He’s quick to point out that supporting kids is not up for debate. “We’re not afraid to support our kids,” he said. “We’ll be first in line to do it if you show us a practical path that makes sense to our stubborn German blood.” That heritage—stubborn, yes, but also steady and deeply committed—has shaped Teutopolis for generations. Chris laughs about it, but he also takes pride in it. “Look what we’ve created with it,” he said. “It comes with upsides too.”

Part of his perspective comes from watching facility discussions play out in the context of the county’s one-percent sales tax, which has failed four times at the ballot box. Teutopolis voters, he noted, were a driving force in those defeats. “The margins have gotten smaller, but it tells you something,” he said. “People don’t want something forced down their throats. They want to be the masters of their own destiny.” For Chris, that’s not resistance—it’s independence. The key, he believes, is presenting a practical plan the community can embrace on its own terms.

Asked what it would mean for his family if Teutopolis were to come together around such a plan, Chris paused before answering. “It would give us another reason to be proud of the community,” he said, “What matters is preserving the values and the moral clarity that make Teutopolis who it is. At the same time, you’ve got to have facilities that deliver for your children.”

Chris is quick to admit he doesn’t claim expertise on exactly what those facilities should be. He relies on the superintendent, the board, and community dialogue to define needs. But he does know what he doesn’t want: “I wouldn’t be mad about a new facility or improvements that meet the necessities,” he said. “But I would be mad about a bunch of extraneous expense that doesn’t need to be spent.” In other words, good stewardship matters.

He uses a metaphor that many in a farm-and-family community will recognize. “I’ve always been under the guidance that anything you have, you don’t have to have a lot of it—but what you do have, you maintain. You keep it in good operating condition. You don’t need a Ferrari. But that VW you keep in good condition, you take care of it, you respect it. That’s the mindset here.”

Chris’s investment in Teutopolis isn’t just as a parent. For six years, he served on the board of the Teutopolis Education Foundation (TEF), a role he describes as both humbling and inspiring. Established decades ago by a forward-thinking business owner, the foundation has quietly grown into a powerhouse of support for the district. “We’re probably pushing $2 million in endowment funds right now,” Chris said. “For a town of 1,500 people, that’s a huge shot in the arm.”

The foundation provides mini and mega-grants to teachers, funding everything from book subscriptions to VR goggles, from library carts to smartboards in classrooms. Chris has challenged the board and teachers to “dream bigger,” encouraging investments that move the needle rather than simply meeting small, immediate needs. “It’s been fantastic,” he said. “The foundation is proof that this community is willing to support our kids in practical, meaningful ways.”

That experience shapes how he thinks about the current facility discussions. For Chris, the lesson of the TEF is simple: if you show Teutopolis a clear, practical way to improve opportunities for kids, the people will rally. “This community is open to supporting what can be legitimately presented as a practical solution,” he said. “That’s just the kind of place T-Town is.”

In the end, Chris comes back to why he returned in the first place: family, faith, and the bonds of community. He’s raising his children where his roots run deepest, trusting that the same values that shaped him will shape them. “We’re going to be successful by following our moral compass and our work ethic and our values,” he said. “That’s who we are.”

For Chris Zerrusen, Teutopolis isn’t just where he lives—it’s the legacy he’s passing on to his children. And like many in town, he believes that legacy is worth investing in.