A clutch of clapboard houses around a frozen lake, Pukkila has never been much to write home about. But one person, Onni Nurmi, could not forget his unassuming birthplace after he departed in 1913, though he spent 15 years as a forester in Minnesota and three decades as a building manager in Helsinki. He had only two recorded visits back here. At his death in 1962, he bequeathed the town all he had - 780 shares of stock he had bought in a Finnish rubber company. At the time, none of the town's 1800 residents had any recollection of who Nurmi was or much interest in finding out. Today he is Pukkila's favourite son.



Why this belated devotion? The company was called Nokia. As it turned from being the maker of Finland's favourite brand of galoshes into the global information technology behemoth it is today, the value of Nurmi's gift rose from $30,000 to $90 million.

As the figure grew from the reinvestment of dividends and the good fortunes of Nokia, so did interest in a stipulation that was little noticed at the outset. It said that the shares were never to be sold and that the dividends were to be used solely "for the recreation of the people living in the village's old people's home". The home entitled to all these millions has only 20 residents, and one can only imagine what that alluring ratio might have provoked in more predatory parts of the continent, not to mention the United States. But this is greed-free Finland, a country that regularly tops European indices for incorruptibility and fair dealing, and the legions of self-appointed investment advisers who might have appeared elsewhere found no running room here. Even a proposal that would have used the money to free the town's residents from paying any taxes for 12 years drew no support.

The only ill will that arose in Pukkila was a dispute over how the residents could best fulfil the wishes of Nurmi to benefit old people, who receive respect that borders on indebtedness in Finland. Expressing a view that is downright selfish by Finnish standards, Arto Makela, 25, owner of a coffee shop, said, "The large part of our population here is already over 50 years old, and they're interested in knowing that in the years to come they will have something."

When the town council decided in 1997 that it would sell a small percentage of the accumulated shares to diversify the portfolio and protect the old people's interests better, three residents raised legal objections, arguing any sale was forbidden by the will. The ensuing court proceedings delayed the sale for three years, but no one got too upset because the share price soared, the stock split and the value of the bequest grew eightfold. How had the town reacted to having its placid consensus disrupted by the three strict-interpretation dissidents? "The joke around here is that we should put up statues for all three of them," said Mirja Riihiluoma, 49, the chief executive officer of the Pukkila Council. The proceeds of the sale have been invested, and the estate is being administered by a new foundation named after Nurmi. It has mapped a 10-year plan of aid to Pukkila's elderly, starting with the construction of a new service centre with recreation areas, a pharmacy, physical therapy equipment and saunas.

Nokia's stock price today is half of what it was at its peak, and the value of Onni Nurmi's bequest has plunged. But Riihiluoma is unconcerned. "You know, 'onni' means 'lucky' in Finnish," she said. "We still have our shares, and they will come back." The New York Times