Over the last two years, the partnership has established a mammoth vertically integrated concentrated cattle feeding operation that is confining more than 100,000 male calves and steers in large concrete, steel, and vinyl-covered feeding barns, and generating thousands of tons of solid manure each day.
Photo by Keith Schneider
For 60 years, this one stoplight Ohio town has been known as a
place where time appears to stand still. With more than 400 Amish
residents
settled in and around the rural community that straddles the
Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan state lines, it has been common to see
large families traveling by horse-drawn black buggies to and from
farms where they milk dairy cows and grow corn.
Adhering to a strict religious doctrine that resists new technology,
Amish farmers here spent decades largely eschewing industrial
farming practices that have become common around the United States.
But that bucolic tableau of plain people earnestly cultivating the
rich soil is eroding here, splintered by an industrial farm alliance
between one of the area's leading Amish farming families and JBS
Foods, the world's largest beef producer. Over the last two years,
the partnership has established a mammoth vertically integrated
concentrated cattle feeding operation that is confining more than
100,000 male calves and steers in large concrete, steel, and
vinyl-covered feeding barns, and generating thousands of tons of
solid manure each day.
The operations have prompted complaints of odor and contamination,
and state investigators have found uncontained manure running off
waste piles and out of barns, draining into streams and wetlands.
Water samples collected by state inspectors contained high
concentrations of nitrogen ammonia, a contaminant of manure.
Following the inspections, regulators cited multiple farms for
manure mismanagement, and issued modest penalties to some farms for
failing to secure proper operating permits.
Nine Amish farms were cited for violations of manure management
regulations in August alone. The state also ordered the largest
mounds of manure, some towering two and three stories tall, to be
removed. The cited farms are close to each other in Williams County,
Ohio and are all owned by one extended Amish family.
Area residents say the manure contaminants, which are often spread
on farm fields as fertilizer, are leaching into waterways, polluting
streams, lakes, and the St. Joseph River. Water samples collected by
two area environmental groups showed persistently high
concentrations of nitrates, phosphorus, and dangerous E-coli
bacteria in streams and lakes in the region. The animal waste is
considered a
source of the pollutants that cause an annual toxic algae bloom in
Lake Erie.
Five years ago, Ohio launched a $172 million multi-year project
aimed at bringing algal blooms under control by encouraging farmers
to to limit contaminants coming from their farms. But with the new
large feeding operations on multiple farms, the effort seems doomed,
critics say.
The situation outrages Sandy Bihn, executive director of Lake Erie
Waterkeeper, who has worked for decades on regional, national, and
binational groups to cure the lake's annual toxic bloom.
"How is it possible to let 100,000 animals, and all the nitrates and
phosphorus that they produce, come into the watershed that we're
investing millions and millions of dollars, if not billions of
dollars to protect?" Bihn said. "This just shows how meat and JBS
are able to control the system."
Neither the family farm owner, Noah Schmucker Jr., nor JBS
executives, agreed to an interview for this report. Executives of
Wagler & Associates, an Indiana construction company heavily
involved in building the feeding barns, declined to be interviewed.
When asked about the concerns, Ohio Department of Agriculture
Director Brian Baldridge said the agency would continue to "engage
with all property owners to ensure they are following Ohio laws and
rules."
Nationwide concerns
The development in Edon of what is commonly called a concentrated
animal feeding operation, or CAFO, comes amid growing efforts by
communities around the nation seeking to block or limit CAFOs
because of known public health and environmental hazards the
operations create. CAFOs are responsible for producing most of the
nation's milk, meat, and eggs, but the massive discharges of manure
and other wastes from CAFOS are a primary source of serious water
pollution problems, according to state and federal assessments.
Phosphorus from hog, dairy, and poultry CAFOs have been linked to
annual toxic algal blooms in Lake Erie, Chesapeake Bay, Lake
Champlain, and other iconic American waters. The tide of nitrates
from
CAFO wastes in Mississippi River Basin states are a major cause of
the expansive dead zone in the Gulf of Mexico. The US
Environmental Protection Agency
last summer sued three big dairies to control manure wastes
contaminating groundwater in Washington state, and has directed
state authorities to halt pollution from CAFO wastes in Minnesota,
Wisconsin, and Oregon.
California critics of CAFOs
put the issue to a vote in Tuesday's general election, seeking
to make Sonoma County the first in the nation to ban CAFOs, also
called "factory farms". The measure failed in the face of stiff
opposition from farm and business interests.
"Our bread and butter"
For those living in and around Edon, the concerns run deep. The
region's more than 100 lakes are a "legacy" now being spoiled,
according to Susan Catterall, a mother of five from the area who has
become a leader of an environmental coalition opposing the large
cattle feeding operations.
"It our bread and butter, our tourism dollars. It's our heritage,"
she said. "It's being spoiled. We've got farms polluting our county
with an unbelievable amount of manure."
According to public documents outlining the business plan for the
cattle feeding operations, the area Amish farms are raising male
calves sired by Angus bulls and born to Holstein cows from dairies
in neighboring states. Some 3,000 calves arrive weekly to be fed for
several months, as 3,000 market-ready cattle weighing 600 pounds to
700 pounds leave weekly to be fattened at finishing feed yards.
Their eventual destination is JBS's processing plant in Plainwell,
Michigan where an average of 1,400 cattle are slaughtered daily.
Animals with 51% or more black hides can be marketed by JBS as
higher-priced, certified "choice" and "prime" Angus beef.
Competitive concerns
Buggies, beards, and plain dress still help to identify Amish
farmers in the region, but the farmers now co-exist with dozens of
big concrete, steel, and vinyl cattle feeding barns and more under
construction.
Trucks hauling calves and cattle now crowd the highways and the
narrow dirt farm-to-market roads. And manure piles rest like
sleeping beasts beside confinement barns.
The odor and pollution tied to the cattle feeding operations is but
one area of concern. Some observers say that as JBS and other
corporate beef suppliers increasingly establish these contracted,
dedicated supply chains with certain farmers, other farmers lose
their ability to compete in an open competitive market, and
eventually their livelihoods.
"The cattle industry is really the last frontier," said Bill
Bullard, a former rancher in South Dakota and chief executive of
R-CALF USA, an independent cattlemen's trade association.
"We still have approximately 20% of cattle still marketed in an open
competitive cash market or spot market. What's at risk here is that
these vertically integrated systems are going to extinguish the cash
market in the cattle industry. Just in the last five years, we've
lost nearly 107,000 independent beef cattle operations They're
dropping like flies."
(This report, co-published with Circle of Blue, is part of an
ongoing series looking at how agricultural policies are affecting
human and environmental health.)
(Keith Schneider, a former New York Times national correspondent, is
senior editor for Circle of Blue. He has reported on the contest for
energy, food, and water in the era of climate change from six
continents.)