Cheap thrills work. Which might explain This Is the Place Heritage Park's dramatic turnaround.

With Baby Animals Day, a Golden Spike train and Civil War Days, the semi-private Mormon history shrine doubled the number of people who paid to get in last year - from 52,000 in 2006 to 130,000 in 2007.

Park managers figure they're on the way to a sort of solvency.

"We want people to come in and get their hands dirty. We really want them to live the history," says Park Director Matt Dahl. He figures Civil War Days, despite a limited connection to Utah, did just that. "We were doing something right."

Taxpayers still are on the hook for more than $1.2 million of the park's revenue this year - about one-third of the total budget. On top of $800,000 annual infusions from the State Parks Division, legislators shoveled over another $350,000 for capital improvements. That's on top of a $2 million emergency cash infusion Republican lawmakers shunted to the park two years ago.

Dahl insists both are one-time deals; $800,000 will be enough public money in years to come. He hopes to cut operations costs, build an endowment fund and ban new buildings at the 450-acre historical park until more money comes in.

But even with that belt-tightening, even with growing crowds, This is the Place seems a cautionary tale about privatization. Lawmakers in a hurry to privatize everything from municipal golf courses to "academically bankrupt" schools might want to think twice.

Ten years ago, state lawmakers figured making the state park private would encourage donations. Initially, it did. The park raised $17 million in advance of the State Centennial and increased the number of buildings in Old Deseret Village from a dozen to more than 40.

Now, park managers are struggling just to maintain those aging homes and businesses; last season 38 were open. Board Chairman Ellis Ivory's scheme to lease some of the park for an office building failed. So, last year, This is the Place seemed to have shifted its objective - from developing a respected living history museum like Virginia's Jamestown, to a paved, 19th-century amusement park with bells and whistles to keep the kids happy.

So far, the bunnies and chicks are working. Expenses last year at the park were $2.8 million - up $700,000 from the year before. With an additional $400,000 in ticket sales, and after public subsidies, the park ended up with a $55,000 surplus.

Kenyon Kennard, former curator and programming director of This is the Place, says something is lost in the park's focus on making money. This is the Place's reputation as a historic site is diminished with each cheesy gimmick, he said. And financial strain continues to limit the scope of This is the Place.

"You have a place that has no significance, except to a little slice of the LDS community. They end up relying on stereotypes," Kennard says.

Dahl insists he is trying to diversify; he hopes to open a $150,000 American Indian village of teepees and hogans by the end of this season. But proposals for Catholic and Greek churches and a mining village will have to wait until a private donor steps forward.

In the end, whether or not This is the Place is a success depends on your perspective. Colonial Williamsburg it's not, and probably never will be. But if making it more like Lagoon means I have to pay less for a glorified pioneer subdivision, bring on the gunfighters.

walsh@sltrib.com