Preserving the Rural Character of the Community vs. Economic Development

Proposed solar power plant stirs debate in my newspaper's coverage area

A few years ago the possibility that a gas-fired electric generation plant might be built on a 145-acre parcel in the southeast corner of Handy Township brought a large crowd to the township planning commission.

While this appointed board was actually considering an ordinance that would regulate this type of land use—there being none in the township ordinance book—that pretty much got lost during the public comment portion of the meeting, with those in attendance preferring to voice their opposition to or support of the project.

For the former, one of the points brought up was “preserving the rural character of the community,” with supposition that this ‘character’ might to irretrievably altered, or even lost if the plant was built.

For those not familiar with the geography, the site being considered was about five-to-six miles southeast of the Village of Fowlerville (as the crow flies) and maybe a like distance southwest of the City of Howell. It was also near the intersection of two natural-gas lines, which made it attractive to the developer. But it was not in a remote area. There were plenty of residential homes nearby, along with farmland.

I had already done a couple of articles on the proposed project and our newspaper had printed the proposed ordinance as a legal notice, so covering this meeting was a follow-up to that earlier coverage.

As it turned out, the project never went forward beyond the developer taking an option on the land for a year and doing some initial feasibility studies. Hence, it never got to the point of local officials judging its merits, including whether it was a good fit for that rural area of the township. However, there is an ordinance in the zoning book if such of development were to be brought forth in the future.

I’m recalling that past history because, as a reporter and as a community, we have a similar situation at hand, only this one involves a large-scale commercial solar power project that’s been proposed. And, the sentiments being expressed and the debate now in progress echo those earlier discussions.

Several weeks ago details of the proposed project were provided by the solar power company. The spokesman noted that it would be located in portions of Conway and Cohoctah townships—an area northeast of Fowlerville and northwest of Howell. Unlike the natural-gas electric plant, this development would utilize a much larger swath of land, with solar panels being erected on 1,500 acres. The panels, it should be added, would not be contiguous, meaning the acreage being developed would be spread out. There would also be a transfer plant connected to a high-voltage transmission line that would send electricity to customers elsewhere in Michigan.

Six property owners—all of them local farmers—have leased part of their land to the company for a period of 40 years if the project comes to fruition. The annual payments would give them an income beyond that obtained from production agriculture.

Officials in the two townships—having been approached by the company earlier in the year—have been busy revising their respective ordinances, changing them from language that addresses a panel or two on a residential home to one that regulates this much larger development.

This past December, the Conway Township Planning Commission held a public hearing on its ordinance, using the Fowlerville Junior High School auditorium to accommodate the 200 people who showed up. Like that previous hearing in Handy Township, the comments were mainly focused on the project itself, rather than the ordinance. But where that earlier meeting saw a nearly equal mix of supporters and detractors, at this gathering the majority of those speaking were in opposition. Over the course of a couple of hours they gave various reasons why they felt this was an incompatible land use.

I had reported on the initial announcement, done two follow-up articles—one with a woman whose home would be surrounded by the panels and the other on the status of the two township ordinances. So here I was again, attending a hearing on a possible electric plant being located in Fowlerville. Another contentious one, I might add.

AS A REPORTER THIS WAS NOT THE FIRST TIME that I’d heard the sentiment of ‘preserving the rural character’ used as a rallying cry against a proposed or possible economical development project. Thus, I was not surprised when it was invoked as a main argument by those expressing their opposition to the solar power project.

Over the years the ‘rural character’ argument has been employed in opposition to a mobile home park, numerous housing tracts, and rezoning land from a residential classification to an industrial use. The most common line is “I moved out here to get away from the city and all of the congestion.”

Which is the ‘rub’ as they say. The folks opposing these sorts of projects were often recent arrivals, while the land (upon which the development would occur) was usually owned by a long-time resident—the property part of a farm that had been in the family for three-or-four generations. To the newcomers the farm was part of the picturesque setting, but to the old-timer it was a valuable commodity; a source of economic well-being.

That said, it’s an understandable reaction. I can’t imagine too many people who have chosen to live in the country, preferring to trade a view of forests and fields for the sight of an industrial facility complete with a parking lot filled with cars and pick-ups.

Nor a large subdivision next door, along with all of the extra traffic. Nor, as is now being considered, the sight of rows of solar panels when they look out the window or drive along a country road.

But then, to offer a counter argument, is the countryside as it now exists akin to a quasi-theme park that should be kept in its current state with no economic development or future land-use changes allowed?

Which begs the question: ‘What is the rural character of this community?’ Is it corn fields? A stand of woods and tangled underbrush? Deer wandering into your backyard? Cattle grazing in a pasture? The sight and sound of a tractor planting a crop in the spring?

Does it include a subdivision of homes setting on half-acre lots with manicured lawns, flower beds, and a scenic view of the neighbor’s woods and corn field? Is it graveled roads, but also paved driveways? Is it the farmer who raises livestock and crops, but also the resident who commutes back and forth from home to the job in the city? Is it defined by how many or how few live in the area? Finally, what does one need to do to preserve it? And how do you know when it’s being threatened?

I toss out those questions, not with any expectation that they’ll inspire a good deal of agreement, but rather to suggest that the answers—or even how you regard the questions themselves—is often a matter of personal perspective; dependent on just where you’re sitting on the fence.

For the more recent arrivals, having come here “to get away from the city and all of the congestion,” this area of rural Fowlerville (judging by their comments) seems idyllic.

For the lifelong resident, viewing the scene from a different history, the sheer number of new arrivals have, over the years, brought the city and its congestion with them. These old-timers know all about a changing rural character, having watched this area gradually evolve from a farming community to becoming part of the suburban sprawl that’s crept out further and further from metro Detroit.

From my own perspective—which includes growing up on a dairy farm north of Fowlerville, of having left the farm life long ago, but also of having stayed in the community to earn my livelihood as a journalist—the area still has many of the visible aspects of a rural landscape. The fields of crops, the fenced pastures with assorted livestock, the horizon of trees, the river and tributary creeks, the sumac along the fence rows, and the young rabbits darting in and out of the tall grasses next to the roadway are still part of the geography.

But I’ve also seen all of the new homes in what were once empty fields—two, three, or more in a row. There are stretches of once isolated back roads that now have as many residences as a village street. And ten miles from town you turn off a graveled road into a subdivision with paved streets, curb and gutter on their edges, and rather elegant-looking homes; their exteriors a far cry from the old, two-story clapboard farm homes, although there are still plenty of them around.

What’s evident to me, now that I’ve become an old-timer, is the change in the culture that’s taken place since I was young. The tenor of the community, the institutions under which we functioned, and the social venues that existed within which we interacted. As a community, we certainly weren’t one, big, happy family, but the relationships seemed more closely knit since many more people worked, shopped, and socialized within the community. We either knew most of our neighbors, or knew of them. When a motorist drove past your rural home, you waved since chances were the driver and passengers were those you knew.

But such an observation could have been made (and probably was) by the people of my parents’ generation, by my grandparents and their contemporaries, and I grew up hearing about the ‘good old days’ from my great-grandparents. From the appearance of the first white settlers in this neck of the woods in the mid-to-late 1830’s, cutting down those trees, clearing the land for planting, draining the swamps, and building mills, stores, and roads—going forward from there, the rural character of the community has been changing.

The coming of the railroad to town in 1872 and, a few decades later, the proliferation of the automobile both had profound impacts to the way-of-life and living that existed hereabouts. Of equal significance was constructing the freeways that connected our community to metro Detroit and other areas of the state. 

I HAVE A GREAT AFFECTION FOR THE RURAL CHARACTER OF THIS COMMUNITY and wish to preserve as much of it as possible, particularly the habitat necessary for a thriving wildlife. But I try to be a realist and to view preservation and economic development as a balancing act, not an ‘either-or’ decision. Given Fowlerville’s location on a major highway between Detroit and Lansing, population growth was and will remain inevitable. And with that increase has come the big-box stores and the franchises. The proximity to the Detroit area and its auto plants, along with the freeway and affordable land prices, have also aided in bringing factories (many of them auto suppliers) to the local industrial parks. Those factories offer decent paying jobs to area workers. All of that, directly and indirectly, has helped my business.

While having that affection, I try not to get too caught up in nostalgia. The farm life and the culture of the community that existed here over a half-century ago, and that I was part of, is a pleasant memory. But I realize, having the advantage of hindsight, that the economics of production agriculture and of milking cows—get big or get out— were even then pushing out the small operator. That’s not to say we, as a society, might not be better off reverting back to this economic model; however, that’s a different discussion.

As far as the question at hand— of whether or not solar power plants should be located in rural residential areas—finding a solution is part of the balancing act. Few of us want these sort of developments located in our backyard—be they acres of solar panels, a natural-gas powered electric plant, or a factory. But, given the needs of our modern economy and way-of-life, they need to be located in someone’s backyard.

Still, even with the importance of the economics as well as the needs of larger society, how such a development might affect the surrounding countryside and the neighbors is not a frivolous consideration. There is a need also to evaluate the environmental impact on wildlife and waterways, the best use of farm land, and, yes, even the rural character of the community.

Steve Horton is a mid-Michigan journalist and editor-publisher of the ‘Fowlerville News & Views’.