Mayor Krause goes of the gold- Hilmoore.

On May 13, 2024, Mayor Krause strode into the City Hall like a sheriff in a Wild West showdown, ready to obliterate the Ad Hoc committee that his predecessor, Mayor Kline, had cobbled together. This wasn’t just any committee—it was the brain trust behind the future of the Hillmoore Nature Preserve, the last untouched jewel in Lake Geneva’s crown. Kline had seen this pristine plot as the potential Central Park of Lake Geneva, a green sanctuary amidst urban sprawl.

But Krause had other plans. With a flick of his pen and a glint in his eye, he announced the committee’s execution. Frame, ever the loyal executor, made the motion, and Aimes, the steadfast lieutenant, seconded it without hesitation.

Krause wasn’t just clearing the board; he was setting the stage for a new power structure. He declared the birth of a permanent committee, a seven-member council of elders who would reign supreme for years to come. To ensure their absolute authority, he conspired with the city attorney to rewrite the ordinances, cutting the city council out of the loop entirely.

Joel Hoiland, in his typical grandiloquent fashion, proclaimed this move to be in the best interests of residents, visitors, and businesses, wrapping the power grab in a cloak of public good.

In a flourish of transparency—or perhaps voyeurism—Krause decreed that all meetings of this new committee would be televised, turning local governance into a spectator sport. Meanwhile, Cindy Yager, the ever-dramatic provocateur, called for a referendum, though the specifics remained as hazy as a politician’s promise.

The vote to dissolve the Ad Hoc committee sailed through with resounding support from Council President Mary Jo Fesenmaier, Vice President Cindy Yager, and Alderpersons Sherri Ames, Peg Esposito, Linda Frame, Joel Hoiland, and Shari Straube. The lone dissenter was Ken Howell, a solitary figure of resistance in a sea of acquiescence.