(From KFVS-12)

More and more people are moving out of Illinois and it’s leaving quite the financial burden for the state.

According to an Internal Revenue Service report, Illinois lost 81,000 people and $4.1 billion of annual taxable income in 2013.

According to that report, that’s one person and $50,000 in taxable income that left the state every 6.5 minutes just two years ago.

And with the budget impasse Illinois is currently in, some people say it’s only creating more damage to the state’s economy.

“What’s going on with the budget crisis in this state is hurting our state’s economy,” director of the Paul Simon Public Policy Institute, David Yepsen said. “It creates business uncertainty, we know this and so this budget impasse we have is really hurting our state’s economy.”

According to the illinoispolicy.org, since the income-tax hike started in 2011, Illinois continues to see a rise in numbers of people and money leaving the state.

Yepsen said there are many factors that play into why this is.

“There are lots of reasons, they are complicated, but for some people, one issue is the economy,” Yepsen said. “And the tax burden, and the opportunity the state provides, and Illinois’ got some problems on those fronts.”

According to the article, in 2011, 49,728 residents left the state along with $2.5 billion. In 2012, that number grew to 66,922 residents and $3.8 billion. And by 2013, 81,117 residents left the state along with $4.1 billion.

“I think some people aren’t getting their money’s worth out of the taxes that they have. Some of the fastest growing, best places to live have relatively high taxes,” Yepsen said. “In a state like Illinois, with the budget stalemate and the corruption that we’ve had, a lot of people just don’t see where they get their money’s worth out of the government.”

The amount of people leaving comes as no surprise to some Illinois residents.

“I love Illinois, I love the climate, the people, I grew up here and I want it to succeed,” Richard Parrish said. “But given the politics in Springfield  and Chicago, it’s not working. They’ve run us in debt.”

“No I’m not, there’s a hopelessness in the state,” Lynn Mowry said. “And we’re in gridlock and we need to get it together.”

Yepsen said when people leave it has several different effects on the state.

“One is, it takes a job, and it moves it someplace else. It takes a talented worker, who pays taxes, who contributes to a community and they move it elsewhere. I think it also creates a bad psychological environment,” Yepsen explained. “People hear folks are leaving, businesses hear this, they worry about losing their workforce. It just creates a bad psychology. The state has to break this psychology and turn things around so people are more optimistic about building a future here.”

Yepsen said in order say in order to move forward, state house politicians need to resolve their budget impasse.

“Once they resolve the budget impasse and get a budget, we still have about five years-worth of spending cuts and revenue increases in order to dig our way out of the worst fiscal crisis in the state’s history,” Yepsen said. “So this is going to take some time to resolve.”

CAIRO — The only public health clinic in Illinois’ poorest county is in a former synagogue off a largely abandoned main street, a bright spot with multicolored windows where seniors can get flu shots and moms get help feeding their kids. But today the lights are off and the doors locked. A sign on the door apologizes for the inconvenience: Because of the impasse over the state budget, we are only open on Wednesdays.

Here’s the link to the story in the Springfield State Journal-Register.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: Citing health reason Jerry Kill retired Oct. 28, 2015 as football coach at Minnesota. Reaction was swift and heartfelt concerning the impact the beloved coach left on players during every step of his remarkable coaching career. This is a story that appeared  in Southern Illinois Sports Connection Magazine in January 2008 — one month after Kill left SIU for Northern Illinois. It was written by former SIU quarterback Joel Sambursky. I thought of this story as I watched Coach Kill’s emotional press conference. It’s a wonderful tribute. I hope you enjoy. — Jim Muir)

By Joel Sambursky

To many Saluki fans, December 13, 2007, the day Jerry Kill accepted the job as the head football coach at Northern Illinois University will be the day that marks the end of an unbelievable coaching era in Saluki football. But to one Saluki fan, and former player, the departure of Coach Kill means much more.

Outside of my mother and father, Coach Kill has done more for me than any other person on this planet. He has taught me how to go from being (using his words) “a long-haired hippie quarterback” to becoming a man. I don’t discount the knowledge I obtained from my brilliant professors when studying for my undergraduate or master’s degree, but it is hard to compare to the life lessons I learned on and off the football field from Coach Kill.

One of those lessons came on a horribly hot day at a work out session in 2002. We had just come off a one-win football season, and Coach Kill recognized the team lacked any sort of genuine leadership. At that time I was competing for the starting quarterback position and as a freshman I believed I had what it took to be the leader that the coaches desperately needed and the team desperately wanted. However there was one problem; that year, my red-shirt freshman year of college, I didn’t have a proper perspective of what leadership was all about.

After some intense lifting, we had just finished what we expected to be our last running drill, when Coach Kill blew his whistle and told us to get on the goal line. He thanked us for the hard work, but said he wanted us to do a hundred yards of bear crawls because he wanted to see who, if anyone would give up on his teammates. Bear crawls are when you get on your hands and feet, and without touching your knees, crawl across the field. Now keep in mind for a guy like me that weighed 185 pounds bear crawls are tough, but imagine how hard they are for a 330-pound offensive lineman.

Coach Kill blew his whistle and we were off doing our bear crawls. We finished the hundred yards and then turned to cheer on the “big boys” who were lagging behind. After they finished, Coach Kill told us to get back on the goal line and do it over. So we did it again. And after we finished, he put us back on the goal line and we did it again. All while Coach Kill is yelling behind us “who is going to be the guy…who is going to be the guy who gives up on his teammates … I want to know who it’s going to be because if he gives up now, he’ll give up in the fourth quarter.” At this point my hands were bleeding because of the blisters developing on them from the scorching hot turf. I was in every way exhausted, delirious, and begging God to bring all this to an end, but like my teammates I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to be the guy Coach Kill was talking about.

After we cheered the “big boys” across the finish line, Coach Kill told us to get on the line and do it one last time. He told us he wants to know who he can trust in the fourth quarter. With what felt like God’s help I managed to finish the hundred yards of bear crawls, and as my teammates and I had done before we began cheering for the “big boys.” One by one, the offensive and defensive lineman started crossing the finish line, while Coach Kill increased his fiery rhetoric.

Finally everyone finished except for one guy, Brian Akins, also known as “Big B.” Brian was 6-feet-4 and easily over 300 pounds. He was locked up at midfield unable to take another step, but refusing to go down to his knees. The entire team started to gather around him, cheering, encouraging, and hoping to help get Brian across the finish line. He started to take one step at a time, stopping occasionally in agony. Our cheers grew louder, while Coach Kill yelled: “Don’t give up on your teammates Brian … don’t you do it.”

Brian made it to about the twenty five yard line when Coach Kill blew his whistle. He looked at all of us who had gathered around Big B, and said, “We have no leadership on this team. You guys think you are leaders. You think being a leader is sitting off on the sideline cheering your teammates on?” Coach Kill looked at Big B, and told him to get on his back and he physically carried him across the finish line.

“That is what real leadership is all about,” Coach Kill told us.

That day I learned that true leadership isn’t just encouraging a friend in need, but putting them on your back and carrying them across the finish line when they are struggling. Coach Kill was teaching us all something that we will remember long after our playing days would be over; a lesson that had more to do with life than football.

What is most fascinating is my stories really aren’t unique. The stories I share are simply included on a long list of others, embedded on the hearts and minds of every young man who has played for Coach Kill. Coach Kill values the game of life more than football games, and speaks more about the fundamentals of life than the fundamentals of football. The departure of Coach Kill is going to be tough for many players, fans, and friends in Southern Illinois. But at the end of the day, I am just excited for the next “long-haired hippie quarterback” that steps into Coach Kill’s program, and leaves a different man.

Because that’s really what it is all about.