Written by Missy Hicks
My grandfather didn’t just buy real estate when he returned from the battlefields of World War II: he secured a legacy. He understood something fundamental as he labored on our family farm in Kenton County—land is the only thing we have that cannot be manufactured. He used to tell us, “Baby, hold on to the farm. They’re not making any more land.” Today, those words feel less like advice and more like a desperate warning.
Our farms are more than beautiful scenery that draw visitors and commuters to Southern Kenton County; they are essential to our livelihood and vital for feeding this nation. We often take the food on our tables for granted, forgetting that every calorie begins in the soil of a farm just like ours. There is a dangerous misconception that only “Big Ag” matters, but the reality is that many small farms equal a massive, diversified output. To undermine the small farmer is to undermine the very security of our food supply.
Beyond the dinner table, this land provides essential ecosystems that support our wildlife, and research confirms that the health of mammal populations is a direct indicator of the health of our own species. Since 1970, global wildlife populations have plummeted by an average of 73% as published by the 2024 Living Planet Report. When we lose these animals, we lose the core functions of our ecosystem—pollination, pest control, and soil health—that humanity requires to survive.
The proposed Site Readiness Initiative (SRI) threatens to trade this life-sustaining land for industrial pavement. The scope is staggering: over 5,400 acres in southwestern Kenton County are currently being targeted for development. While Judge Executive Chris Knochelmann insists the county won’t use eminent domain, we must ask: what happens once the zoning is flipped from agricultural to industrial? History shows that once the “little guy” is priced out by developers with insider knowledge, the pressure to sell becomes an invisible kind of force difficult for most property owners to resist.
The environmental cost of this industrial shift may also prove to be literal poison. Urban and industrial runoff carries microplastics into our waterways, with a single rain event capable of discharging up to 23.4 million plastic particles into nearby streams. These particles don’t just sit there; they absorb toxic chemicals like PCBs and pesticides, entering the food chain and, eventually, our bodies.
Furthermore, the manufacturing plants the county hopes to attract are notorious for their thirst. Industrial facilities in the U.S. withdraw over 18.2 billion gallons of water every day. The EESI reported in 2025 that a single large-scale manufacturing operation, such as a semiconductor plant, can consume approximately 10 million gallons of water per day. This is water pulled directly from the resources our families and farms rely on, often returned with a chemical footprint or lost entirely to the process.
While the county continues to post claims that residents are “open” to light industrial use based on resident feedback, let’s be clear: the surveys mailed to Southern Kenton residents were slanted. They asked how we wanted it developed, never giving us the option to say “don’t develop it at all.” Judge Knochelmann argues we need these jobs for our grandchildren to “prosper,” yet a simple search on Indeed of the 41063 area alone reveals thousands of manufacturing and logistics jobs already available within a 30-mile radius. We don’t have a job shortage; we have a land shortage.
I live far enough out that the surveyors aren’t at my gate yet, but that matters little. When they come for one farm, they are coming for the soul of the entire county. Industry brings a chain reaction: subdivisions to house workers, more traffic, and an unsustainable drain on our power grids and water infrastructure.
We have a choice: we can let southern Kenton County become another interchangeable industrial corridor, or we can protect the heritage that feeds us and sustains the unique biodiversity of our region. I want my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to inherit a healthy, sustainable home. We must preserve this land now, because as Grandpa knew all those years ago, “they’re not making any more land.”