Ray Thitoff Wants to Bring Council Back to Earth—And Back to the People

By Logan Andrew | FreeWire

If there’s one thing Ray Thitoff is running on, it’s common sense—and a lot of it.

The lifelong Bucyrus resident, factory worker, and outdoorsman didn’t get into politics for the power or the spotlight. He got into it because someone tried to give away public land.

Back in the early 2010s, Thitoff caught wind that the city was planning to give the Pines Reservoir property to a local attorney to avoid state fines for a dam issue. Thitoff, who duck hunted the Pines and knew it well, pushed back.

“You can’t just give away public property,” he said. And he didn’t just say it—he stalled the deal until it fizzled. A year later, he was still up there pushing, and eventually the city created the Bucyrus Trails Committee. Thitoff now chairs it.

He suspects it was created “to shut me up,” he says with a laugh—but he’s proud of the work being done to preserve and expand public trails. Still, he hasn’t let go of the original concern: that Bucyrus is too often guided by behind-the-scenes deals, favors for friends, and decisions made out of public view.

“I want to be on City Council because there’s a lot of background buddy stuff,” he said. “It’s been going on for years, and it needs to stop.”

A Critic of Council Culture—And Kurt

Thitoff doesn’t shy away from naming names. Council President Kurt Fankhauser, in particular, draws his ire—not just for what Thitoff calls grandstanding and divisiveness, but for what he sees as hypocrisy.

“He was supposed to be the transparency guy.”

When Thitoff asked for a public town hall so residents could ask Fankhauser questions directly, Fankhauser walked out. “That’s as far as that went,” he said.

In a council climate that’s grown more toxic since last summer’s Bratwurst Festival, Thitoff believes the solution is less ego and more grounding. “I said this before—council needs to be run like my house. I don’t buy things I can’t afford.”

He points to a previous proposal to purchase the YMCA building without first gathering cost estimates or insurance figures. “They came out of executive session and let me speak for ten minutes against it,” he said. “Then I find out later they’d already voted yes behind closed doors. I was pissed.”

Eventually, public scrutiny caused council to backtrack. “Funny how a little spotlight changes things,” he said.

Priorities: Jobs Before Housing, Keep the Tax Credit

A central part of Thitoff’s campaign is economic development—and he says that starts with good-paying jobs, not new subdivisions.

“You can’t afford a house without a job,” he said. “So why are we focused on housing first?”

He’s skeptical of proposals that prioritize low-wage retail or fast food expansion, arguing Bucyrus needs to attract serious industry like it had during the city’s manufacturing heyday. A former Baja Boats employee, he remembers what it was like when the city’s factories were booming. “That’s what built this city,” he said.

On the controversial out-of-town tax credit, Thitoff is firmly in the “keep it” camp—at least unless he sees overwhelming demand otherwise. “When you’ve got 1,700 people telling you they don’t want to lose it, how can you vote the other way?”

He says he’d rather the city get its spending under control than take more from residents.

A Blue-Collar Candidate Who’s Not Afraid to Listen

Thitoff is quick to differentiate himself from the other at-large candidates—but not by tearing them down.

He says Clarissa Slater is “book-smart” and a deep researcher, while Robert Taylor is “a little more extreme.” He sees himself as the grounded, working-class voice on council—a perspective he says is sorely needed.

“I’ve lived in the same house in Ward 1 for 25 years. I’ve worked the same factory job most of my life. I’m not a politician. I’m just someone who cares what happens here.”

He walks the streets himself when he campaigns—he doesn’t just ask friends and family to sign. He believes in hearing people out. “I talked to a World War II vet for an hour just walking petitions. That’s what local politics is supposed to be.”

Still, he’s realistic about the culture of council and the uphill climb of restoring trust. “I had a good vibe about the new administration when they came in. I may have to go back up there and admit how wrong I was.”