Letter to the Editor
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Protecting Our Roots: Why the Proposed Landfill Threatens the Systems That Feed Us
Scott County has long done its part in managing its own footprint. We understand that waste has to go somewhere, and we have lived alongside a local landfill for years. But the proposal for a second, massive rail-waste landfill represents a fundamental shift from local waste management to longterm environmental risks to the food and water systems our communities depend on.
In Scott County, many families are already struggling with rising food costs and limited access to fresh food. As food prices have risen, more families have turned to gardening not as a hobby, but as a practical way to help feed their households.
We have seen this firsthand through Grow Appalachia. For fifteen years, I have helped manage one of the program’s largest sites, supporting more than 80 family and community gardens annually across Scott and McCreary counties. We help families grow food organically and improve soil health. Grow Appalachia also helped establish farmers markets in both Scott and McCreary counties. Those markets were built through the hard work of volunteers and community members. We have learned that strong local food systems grow slowly, both in the soil and in the community itself. Some call this “food sovereignty,” the ability of a community to help feed itself rather than depend entirely on distant food systems beyond their control.
But food sovereignty ultimately depends on healthy, living soil. Gardeners understand that stressed soil can often recover over time. Heavy use of chemical fertilizers can disrupt soil biology and weaken the microbial relationships that help plants access nutrients, often increasing dependence on additional chemical inputs over time. Many growers believe weakened soil biology can reduce the quality, flavor and nutritional value of food. Organic farmers work hard to rebuild that living system through compost, organic matter and careful stewardship. With time, much of that biology can recover.
A massive industrial waste landfill raises a fundamentally different concern. Heavy metals such as lead and cadmium, along with certain “forever chemicals” like PFAS, may remain in soils and water for extremely long periods of time. Some contaminants may enter crops through normal biological processes without obvious signs of contamination.
Local food systems are deeply interconnected. Honey, eggs, milk, and meat may all be affected when contaminants enter soil, water, forage, or the broader agricultural environment. By the time food reaches the dinner table, the original source of contamination may no longer be obvious.
One of the most dangerous assumptions about projects like this is the belief that contamination remains confined to a single site. In karst terrain, where water moves through underground channels, contamination pathways become difficult to fully predict or contain. Potential exposure may come through groundwater, runoff, airborne dust, accidental releases, and even through hay, manure, compost and topsoil shared throughout the farming community. In living systems, contamination rarely remains isolated for long.
A project of this size would require enormous rail transport, involving a continuous flow of waste moving through our communities for decades. Millions of tons of waste moving along this rail corridor raises broader concerns about long-term environmental exposure. Families farm along that rail corridor. Community gardens lie along that corridor. Sources of compost, mulch, hay and topsoil used by growers lie along that corridor.
Persistent contaminants such as heavy metals and “forever chemicals” like PFAS can disrupt soil in ways that go far beyond ordinary pollution. Some heavy metals can chemically resemble essential nutrients that plants normally absorb from the soil. Because of this, roots may take up contaminants such as lead or cadmium through the same biological pathways used to absorb calcium, zinc and other nutrients. At first, plants may continue to appear healthy even while contaminants quietly move into the food system.
Healthy soil depends on billions of microbes and underground fungal networks that break down organic matter, recycle nutrients, and support plant growth. Heavy metals can interfere with the microbial activity and enzymes that keep these living systems functioning. “Forever chemicals” raise additional concerns because they resist natural breakdown, can move through water systems, and may disrupt the microbial life that healthy soil depends upon.
Over time, persistent contamination can begin altering the soil ecosystem itself. As those living systems weaken, the soil gradually loses its natural ability to regenerate and sustain healthy crops. The land may still physically resemble healthy soil while the biological systems beneath the surface become increasingly compromised.
In severe cases, contaminated land may require decades of remediation, longterm restrictions, or permanent removal from food production. There is a big difference between healing stressed soil and trying to reclaim contaminated soil.
Many people in this community have worked hard to strengthen local food systems, encourage gardening, and help families regain some measure of food independence. Farmers markets depend on more than produce. They depend on trust in the land, the water and the integrity of the food itself.
That trust is fragile. Once contamination concerns become attached to the identity of a region, the damage can extend far beyond a landfill footprint. Some losses reach beyond economics, including the loss of trust between a people and the land that sustains them.
I have spent enough time working with soil, gardens, and local food systems to know what is truly at stake. Over the years, we have watched community gardens teach families how to grow food for the first time, improving both their health and their sense of independence. We have seen grandparents teach grandchildren how to plant, harvest, and care for the soil. We have watched neighbors help one another through hardship and difficult seasons, and gardeners share part of their harvest with food banks and families in need. Over time, these gardens became about far more than food. They became places of dignity, resilience and hope. In places like Appalachia, the relationship between the land and the people who live upon it has always carried deep meaning.
I believe that God’s face shines down upon this region and its people. I believe the prayers of those who have gone before us still echo through these hills. The people who built these communities learned to survive from the land without losing reverence for it, and though many were poor in possessions, they were rich in faith, resilience, and responsibility to future generations.
This is their legacy. This is our inheritance. This is our time to pray. Our time to remain deeply rooted in the land, the values, and the responsibilities that built this beautiful place we call home.
Lisa Cotton
Scott/McCreary Grow Appalachia, Director
Master Gardener