TINY WORTH COUNTY IN MISSOURI COULD GIVE WEALTHY ORANGE COUNTY IN CALIFORNIA A LESSON IN FINANCE; TURN OFF THE ELECTRICITY, CLOSE THE COURTHOUSE FOR STARTERS

When officials in Orange County, Calif., discovered investments made by the county treasurer were headed south, they declared bankruptcy to allow time to sort out the financial mess. In doing so, shock waves were sent across the country as governments began examining their less-flamboyant investments.

Solvency is relative. In fact, Orange County is one of the most affluent counties in the land. It is home of Disneyland, for example. The county's cash flow is ample to pay bills. At stake is the high-flying portfolio of investments tied to low interest rates. This was the brainchild of county treasurer Robert Citron, who gained national attention by increasing yields on the investment pool he managed for the county and some 150 other governmental entities to more than 7.5 percent last year, while other governmental pools grew a little over 4.5 percent.

Citron was a hero until, on paper, rising interest rates produced a $1.5 billion loss. The hope, of course, is that the bankruptcy filing will give the county enough time to adjust and to reassure everyone that the long-term picture isn't quite so bleak.

Whether Orange County can pull out of this morass is still up in the air. But confidence in government investments has been eroded at a time when government spending is growing by leaps and bounds and tax dollars are harder to come by.

The California scenario also must make many taxpayers wonder why the best method of controlling costs isn't being considered, even in this dire situation. Why isn't spending being slashed?

Closer to home, many Missourians will remember the financial struggles of Worth County next to the Iowa line in Northwest Missouri. In the winter of 1979-80 financially strapped county commissioners closed the courthouse to avoid utility bills and other costs. Officeholders moved their operations to donated space around the tiny town of Grant City until there was enough money in the till to pay for heat.

Again, from April to May 1987, the county shut down the courthouse due to a lack of money. As elected officials today proudly remember, Worth County never stopped paying its bills. It just stop creating bills to pay.

To ease the cash flow in a rural county with no business to speak of, no car dealerships, no implement dealers, no industry -- none of the tax-producers envied by economic development gurus, Worth County managed to pass a temporary levy increase, but only with the proviso that it would last just four years and would have to be approved again by voters, if needed. So far the special levy has been turned down twice this year. At some point, the approximately 2,400 Worth Countians are faced with another shutdown of their 1898 courthouse.

It may sound drastic in Worth County, but providing only the bare-bones services taxpayers can afford is far preferable to getting $1.5 billion in the hole.