Bart Pfankuch, South Dakota News Watch

The livestock industry in South Dakota — among the state’s largest economic engines — is undergoing a fundamental transformation that may alter farms, farmers and rural communities for generations to come.

Despite a rising wave of grassroots opposition, South Dakota is seeing a steady increase in the development of livestock operations known as CAFOs, concentrated animal feeding operations, in which thousands and sometimes more than a million animals are bred, housed and fed in a confined space.

Supporters of CAFO development say the farms can boost the state’s agricultural economy and strengthen rural communities. Opponents say the farms are causing division among rural populations and will limit opportunities for non-agricultural development in small-town South Dakota.

The state has seen a nearly 15% rise in the number of CAFOs in operation over the past decade, and the pace of development has picked up recently, with 18 new CAFOs put into production over the past 18 months.

As of October 2019, there were 452 permitted CAFOs allowed to house about 9.6 million cows, hogs, turkeys and chickens in the state, according to the state Department of Environment and Natural Resources.

When it comes to CAFO development, the stakes for South Dakota are high in terms of both risk and reward.

Supporters of the farms — including Gov. Kristi Noem — see strong opportunity for expansion of the livestock and related products market, which accounted for $4.5 billion in sales in 2017, about half of the state’s total agricultural economy.

A single hog-birthing facility recently approved for a rural site south of Miller in Hand County, for example, is expected to create 19 full-time jobs with an annual payroll of $1.3 million and produce another $1.3 million in annual feed purchases.

But each new large livestock operation brings environmental and odor concerns, and for some, emotional heartache and health problems.

Lyle Reimnitz, who lives a half-mile from a Davison County hog farm permitted for 8,000 sows, said the odors and gasses from the farm prevent him from living a normal life. He and his wife suffer from headaches and respiratory problems, they rarely sit outside or hang out laundry, and they have given up on their dream of having their daughter’s family move to the farm when her husband retires from the military.

“It doesn’t smell every day, but in the evenings, especially when the wind goes down and the humidity is high, we stay inside and keep our windows shut,” said Reimnitz. “The manure pits have gasses in them, and it gives me headaches, my eyes burn and I start coughing. My doctor said if I breathe it long enough, I will end up with respiratory problems.”

Reimnitz and others fear that if livestock confinements continue to develop rapidly in South Dakota, the state may follow the path of Iowa, the national leader in large hog farms where consistent odors, waterway pollution and fish kills have resulted from heavy CAFO development.

“I don’t want to see South Dakota become another Iowa,” he said. “We don’t need all our rivers and streams polluted. I know everybody wants cheap meat, but that comes at a terrible price for people who live here.”

Each time a new CAFO project is proposed, it invariably faces objections from some neighbors and environmentalists who raise concerns over human health risks, reduction of property values, animal treatment and antibiotic use, odors, and fears of potential contamination of air, land and waterways from high volumes of animal waste.

Yet, at the same time, the state of South Dakota this year started a new effort to provide a major financial incentive to county governments that approve new CAFO projects.

Industry groups and some state officials say CAFOs provide new opportunities for existing farmers, create options for young farmers to get started and add significant financial value to the state’s largest industry.

“I do think we need more ag development in South Dakota,” Gov. Noem said in an interview with News Watch in September. “Anytime we can add value to the commodities and livestock that we raise here, it puts more money into South Dakota’s pocket and for those producers out there that are working so hard to feed the world.”

Operators and industry groups say large livestock farms are generally well run and are subject to strong permitting processes and regular inspections that don’t apply to smaller farms.

Noem said she will continue to support CAFOs as long as they are properly sited and operate within state guidelines.

“The smart thing is to make sure we’re putting these in the right locations, that we’re protecting our resources, and that we’re protecting our environment and putting them in areas where economic development can grow,” Noem said.

The vast majority of American livestock is now raised in CAFOs, with federal data showing that about 70% of cows, 98% of pigs and 99% of chickens and turkeys are produced in CAFOs each year.

The farms differ from traditional livestock farming in the number of animals raised and where and how they are kept.

Large CAFOs are farm operations that require a state permit and are subject to regular inspection once they reach 1,000 or more “animal units” based on weight.

Animals are kept en masse in large barns that often are segregated into smaller pens inside. Animals typically are not exposed to the sun or the elements, usually live on concrete slabs or metal slats, and sometimes stand almost shoulder-to-shoulder, especially as they age and grow closer to harvesting weight.

South Dakota has increasingly become a magnet for CAFO development by both existing local farmers and out-of-state firms. South Dakota, particularly in the east, is attractive to developers owing to access to inexpensive feed, solid infrastructure, available land and close proximity to major slaughterhouses and processing plants. The state is bordered by three states that are top-five in the nation for number of large CAFOs — Iowa, Minnesota and Nebraska.

CAFOs provide farmers with a way to produce a high-volume, valuable and stable crop of animals in a climate-controlled setting with low capital costs for equipment and land. The ultimate result is affordable meat for a growing population of consumers in the U.S. and across the world.

Agricultural organizations say CAFOs are part of an ongoing advancement in efficiency of handling and raising animals. They also stress that the vast majority of CAFOs and other farm operations in South Dakota remain owned or operated by families.

“Agriculture has been changing for 100 years, and just like the four-row planter became the 16-row planter and then the 20-row planter, the common theme is that there’s still a family that is out there doing it,” said Steve Dick, director of Ag United, a Sioux Falls organization that represents farmers in several agricultural sectors in South Dakota.

Farmers and industry officials say that in order to make a good living in the modern agriculture industry, getting larger and creating economies of scale is one way to find success.

“This is what we’re getting pushed into doing; we’re not driving our own market, it’s demand,” said Brian Alderson, a part-time cattle farmer who raises about 600 head in a CAFO-style barn in western Minnehaha County. “You tell us what you want us to do when you go to the grocery store. It’s supply and demand, and the consumers make the rules, not us.”

The largest CAFO operations in South Dakota include the National Foods egg hatchery east of Plankinton in Aurora County with 1.98 million chickens; the Schlitz Goose Farm in Sisseton with 193,000 geese; the PIC Apex Farm in Mound City in Campbell County, with 36,400 sows; and the Fall River Feed Yard southeast of Hot Springs in Fall River County with 25,000 head of beef cattle.

But opponents worry that aggressive development of CAFOs, particularly by out-of-state firms, will change the nature of farming and rural living in South Dakota.

“Industrial CAFOs that store manure under their operations for 365 days before spreading are a separate agricultural business than compared to grazing animals that are not confined, not under a roof, but are under the sun and the air where they can naturally distribute the manure that makes it a positive, instead of a toxic overload,” said Candice Lockner, a Ree Heights rancher who opposes CAFOs.

Research done mainly in North Carolina and Iowa has shown that large livestock operations can cause health problems in farm workers and neighbors. One study found that children who live or attend school near large livestock operations suffer from higher rates of asthma. The farms emit high levels of ammonia and hydrogen sulfide that can harm humans, the research has shown.

According to data obtained through a public-records request by News Watch to the DENR, permitted CAFOs in South Dakota violated state regulations 217 times from October 2009 to August 2019 and $207,000 in fines were levied. Violations led to farm wastes making their way into state waterways nine times during that period, but little or no environmental damage resulted, DENR officials said.

Development of new large livestock farms and expansion of existing farms can result in large payments to counties that approve them under a new tax-rebate program started by the Governor’s Office of Economic Development in spring 2019.

The majority of the recent growth has occurred in the hog industry, which has seen a 21% increase in permitted operations from 2011 to 2019 and a 32% rise in the number of permitted animals during that time.

South Dakota is also likely to see strong growth in dairy cattle CAFOs, especially in the far northeast, to accommodate expansion in the cheese-making industry.

The expansion of CAFOs in South Dakota may also be hastened by a need for room for expansion within the livestock industry in the Great Plains.

“It makes sense they are moving into South Dakota, because we’re running out of room to put the manure over here,” said David Osterberg of the Iowa Policy Project.

Kent Woodmansey, who oversees the CAFO inspection within the DENR, said new CAFOs need a permit and are inspected within the first 18 months of operation and then every one to three years after, depending on size.

Inspections are announced in advance so operators can prepare and in some cases arrange to have their outside waste management consultant present, Woodmansey said. "Otherwise we drive out there and they're not there," he said.

The state has no authority over strong odors because no state or federal law regulates smells released by agricultural operations.

“We won’t respond to an odor complaint because we don’t have any criteria for that,” Woodmansey said.

At least 20 counties in Iowa have passed resolutions to ban further development of large livestock farms, but the measures are virtually meaningless because only state approval is needed for CAFO development, Osterberg said.

The expansion of concentrated animal feeding operations, or CAFOs, in South Dakota is without a doubt one of the most controversial topics in agriculture.

CAFOs are large livestock farms that generally house 1,000 or more animals in a confined, indoor space at any one time.

Supporters say the CAFOs are mainly well-run, efficient operations typically owned by families that raise animals humanely and manage wastes in line with state regulations.

Opponents, meanwhile, decry what they see as mistreatment of animals and are concerned over potential human health risks and the potential for environmental damage.

South Dakota is now home to 452 CAFOs that are legally allowed to house about 9.6 million animals mainly cattle, hogs, chickens and turkeys.

As part of its special report on CAFOs, South Dakota News Watch visited three CAFOs in South Dakota to get an up-close look at the operations and the operators.

Hog farmer tries to set an industry example

Matt Moeller grew up on a small farm in Hand County, but as a young adult he felt underutilized on the family farm and decided to seek opportunities in the big city of Sioux Falls.

He spent a couple of years welding fire trucks and flatbed trailers and he spent his final three years in Sioux Falls working in a dairy.

One day, Moeller’s uncle told him that the pork-production company Murphy Brown, now a subsidiary of Chinese-owned Smithfield Foods, was looking for people in South Dakota who might be interested in raising hogs.

In 1998, he and his uncle built three hog barns on a small slice of land not far from his childhood home.

Now, more than 20 years on, Moeller owns the operation outright and has a state CAFO permit that allows him and his wife, Karen, to house 7,700 hogs at any one time.

“You know that saying, ‘You can take the boy out of the farm but not the farm out of the boy, or something like that?” said Moeller, 47.

By all accounts, Moeller has an outstanding reputation in the agricultural industry — and even among opponents of CAFOs — as a good person and a good operator.

His farm consists of two sites that total about 60 acres just east of St. Lawrence on U.S. 14 in Hand County.

His modest home sits directly between his two sets of hog barns — three 50-foot by 200-foot barns that each house 1,100 hogs at a time, and two 50-foot by 400-foot barns that each house 2,200 hogs at a time. The larger barns, added in 2008, are each about half the size of a football field.

A 1.5-million-gallon metal tank that rises 20 feet high holds the manure collected daily from the barns and lies within sight of his home.

The entrance to his farm and the barns is remarkably clean for an operation that raises thousands of pigs each year. In a five-month process, piglets weighing 15 to 18 pounds are fed and raised to a finishing weight of 280 to 300 pounds each.

Cleanliness helps reduce mortality; any visitor allowed in must don a blue protective suit and footies.

The pigs are segregated into groups of about 65 in pens within the barn that are 20 feet by 22 feet, each with about 12 feet of solid concrete floor, and 10 feet of concrete floor with slats that allow wastes to fall below.

Underneath the barns lies a shallow, foot-deep concrete waste-collection area that is scraped by an automatic system each day to force wastes through a pipe and into the slurry tank. The worst job on the farm is when the scraper system needs maintenance and must be tended to by hand, Moeller said.

Upon reaching finishing weight, the hogs Moeller grows are picked up and transported by Smithfield to slaughterhouses in Sioux Falls or Crete, Nebraska.

His animals, Moeller said, are kept in a climate-controlled environment where the temperature is always 65 degrees, even when it is below zero or near 100 degrees outside.

Moeller said he has a great relationship with his neighbors, mostly farmers themselves, whom he helps with chores on occasion. Moeller said the odors from his operation are less intense than some other CAFOs because his shallow-pit operation requires daily cleaning and does not hold manure beneath the animals for up to a year, like other CAFOs. The shallow pit also allows him to avoid using fans that blow odors and gasses out into the air around deep-pit CAFOs.

Still, depending on the day, the odors from Moeller’s farm can be smelled readily upon approach to his operation on U.S. 14 and may linger on the clothes of a visitor who spends some time at the farm.

Moeller is aware of the opposition to existing large livestock operations and the expansion of CAFOs in South Dakota, but he said opponents are often misinformed about local ownership, health risks, manure management and especially animal treatment.

“These pigs, they got it made,” he said. “They have all the feed they want in front of them, they have all the water they need, and they’re at 65 degrees all day,” Moeller said.

Moeller said increased economies of scale have occurred in many industries, including agriculture.

“I don’t know any farm anymore run by a husband and wife with just a couple cows and chickens and hogs,” he said.

Part-time cattleman upholds family history

Brian Alderson and a visitor stand on a wooden platform 10 feet above the floor of his cattle barn as about 600 half-ton animals mill about below.

About 15 minutes into a conversation, Alderson asks, “You tell me, does it stink in here?”

Surprisingly, despite the fact that a few animals had defecated, and that the platform hovers over a 1.2-million-gallon underground manure pit, the odors are minimal.

Alderson insists his deep-pit cattle barn about 12 miles west of Sioux Falls has improved the environment and on the lives of his neighbors when compared to the open-air feedlot he used to operate.

“While there is a faint odor in here, I only had 200 steers outside and it smelled way worse than in here, especially when it rained and the odor of ammonia came up,” Alderson said. “It’s a night-and-day difference.”

Alderson, 37, is a former standout football lineman who brushed up against an NFL career and who was enshrined in 2019 into the University of South Dakota Coyote Sports Hall of Fame.

Alderson is now a part-time cattleman who has a full-time job as a cropland insurance adjuster. He and his wife, Erin, have sons ages 5 and 3.

His lone 14,400-square-foot barn can produce about 750 Holstein cattle each year, The cattle barn allows him to keep his hand in farming and maintain a family tradition on his land that stretches back to 1876.

“I can do this in two or three hours a day, about 20 hours a week,” Alderson said. “I can hang out with my kids and do it 300 yards from my home. My boys play down here and they like hanging out with their dad.”

Alderson obtained a conditional-use permit from Minnehaha County in 2017 that allows him to raise up to 950 head of cattle. He has an arrangement with JBS Beef, a Brazilian-owned firm that provides meat to Walmart, among other sellers.

About every nine months, Alderson receives a shipment of roughly 600 cattle that weigh about 500 to 600 pounds each; they are held within four separate pens within the larger barn.

He feeds and cares for them until they reach their roughly 1,200-pound finishing weight.

As the animals grow, their wastes fall into the underground pit, which is 12 feet deep and has a 12-inch concrete liner with a double layer of rebar. Additives are mixed into the pit wastes to break down bacteria and reduce odors and gasses, Alderson said.

The operation allows him to control the flow of wastes, and accompanying odors, far better than when his cattle were allowed to stroll around and do their business in pastures, he said.

“There was a lot of fear about what this was going to turn into; they saw cattle and they said, ‘That doesn’t look very good,’” he said. “But now I don’t think they notice it. Their day-to-day life hasn’t been affected at all, and in fact, I think it has improved.”

A colony of families and farms

The Oaklane Colony in Hanson County is a fully functioning town, with a school, housing and a handful of varied farm operations.

The head of the agricultural side of the system is John Wipf, 64, who oversees the raising of turkeys, hogs and dairy cattle at the Hutterite colony that houses 28 families a few miles west of Bridgewater. The farm also grows corn, soybeans, wheat, alfalfa and hay, mostly as feed for its animals.

The Oaklane Hutterian Brethren is one of 68 Hutterite Anabaptist colonies in the state; more than half of the colonies are part-owners of the Dakota Provisions turkey plant in Huron. Numerous colonies hold state permits to run CAFOs.

“I think the colonies raise every turkey produced in the state,” Wipf said.

Oaklane holds a multi-species CAFO permit from the state Department of Environment and Natural Resources. The colony produces about 70,000 turkeys a year in three large barns.

The turkeys arrive in groups of about 7,500 from a cage-free birthing facility near Claremont, and weigh about three pounds after five weeks. The turkeys are raised at Oaklane without antibiotics and fed and watered for another 20 weeks to a finishing weight of about 45 to 50 pounds. At that point, they are shipped to the plant in Huron for processing, Wipf said.

Fans keep the turkeys cool in the summer and boilers keep them warm in winter. “If you had to be a turkey, this would be a pretty good way to live,” Wipf said.

The turkey wastes, known as litter, can build to about six inches deep per flock, he said. The litter is collected and brought to a composting barn.

The colony also has a dairy cattle operation with jersey cows, and a large farrow-to-finish hog operation, which includes 1,500 sows and produces about 40,000 head per year.

The colony follows its state permit in terms of when, where and at what level to spread its wastes on farm fields as fertilizer, he said.

Wipf said the colony remains active in the use of numerous new technologies to constantly improve the efficiency and stability of its farm operations. Early in 2019, Wipf was honored for outstanding farm management and civic engagement  by the South Dakota Pork Producers Council, which presented him with its Dedicated and Distinguished Service Award.