In the 1950s, Mary Harkness, a woman of great wealth and imaginative generosity, carried out an idea she had to set aside part of her Waterford shoreline estate as a summer camp for people with disabilities. As people here know well, she gave some of Connecticut's most splendid coastal land for the use of some of its most challenged citizens. Around that time the state was beginning its pioneering work to keep mentally handicapped residents in their communities. Camp Harkness was a key component of normalcy for families that included developmentally disabled sons and daughters.

The state and the philanthropist became national game-changers when it came to services for the disabled. That legacy is now part of the fabric of the community. Thus the outcry when the governor included Camp Harkness and the state's smaller but similar Camp Quinebaug in his proposed 2018 budget cuts.

No one wants to see the camps closed, including, surely, the governor, but the state can no longer afford all it has been doing. Voters all over the country have sent the message that government spending has gotten blowsy and they want a halt. In Connecticut, that is more than a mandate — it is the only way to come close to balancing a $20 billion annual budget. The state is currently forecast to end the third consecutive year in deficit, with shortfalls of 12 and 14 percent projected in each of the next two years without adjustments. Its credit ratings have slipped.

This is when we face the loss of what we really can't spare. This is the wake-up call for anyone who hasn't been paying attention to what the state pays for, but won't be paying for anymore.

This year and probably next it is too late and too dire for anything other than wholesale cuts. Some legislators are holding out hope that two bad years may be enough to get state finances back on track. Realistic or not, that offers the silver lining of time to restructure the state's tax code and, with it, assumptions on the expenditure side. 

The decades after Mrs. Harkness' gift were the glory days of Connecticut as a place where the rich did their part, the middle class thrived, and many people were able to work their way up from want. The state could afford to expand social services programs and pay to staff them.

That no longer describes our state. Connecticut needs to acknowledge its limitations and plan its new economic strategies without forgetting the ingenuity and generosity that have defined us. It won't be easy. Even Serve Here CT, a public-private partnership to train young people for jobs in the state's nonprofit sector, started by modern-day philanthropist Alva Greenberg of Old Saybrook, will lose its funding despite being a perfect match for state job goals and an initial success.

Maybe this sorrowful two-year budget will give us the will and the time to set new standards and redistribute the costs beyond government. Perhaps Camp Harkness could once again serve as a model for private philanthropy to work with public programs.

The Department of Developmental Services, which operates Camp Harkness and "Camp Q" — Camp Quinebaug — is trying to buy time by planning to open the camps as usual this summer. DDS already partners with advocacy organizations such as United Cerebral Palsy and with local school systems in the northeastern part of the state on staffing.

Despite taxpayers' weariness with involuntary support of the state's chosen projects, there is still plenty of wealth in Connecticut that people are willing to use for causes they personally believe in. State money may be better used to launch programs, fund them for a defined period, and then cut back. Even temporary state approval is a critical sign to donors that a proposal is credible. The state's role should include a rigorous evaluation of whether a program meets a substantial need and costs only what it needs to.

Private-sector partners, such as a corporation that wants its name on a facility, individual sponsors/donors, and nonprofit organizations whose missions match a program all have resources of time and talent, if not always treasure. They need to be asked for help; it's amazing how easy it is for financially strapped programs to forget that: They need to be asked.

Nonprofit organizations have seen this day coming and dreaded it. Two years are survivable, but at the other end of this budget it can't be more of the same, or the new Connecticut will never be as good as the old.

The Day editorial board meets with political, business and community leaders to formulate editorial viewpoints. It is composed of President and Publisher Timothy Dwyer, Executive Editor Izaskun E. Larraneta, Owen Poole, copy editor, and Lisa McGinley, retired deputy managing editor. The board operates independently from The Day newsroom.