THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, July 22, 1996 TAG: 9607220039
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MAC DANIEL, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: CHESAPEAKE LENGTH: 109 lines
That putrid stench wafting up from below the flybys of Interstates 664 and 64 near Bowers Hill is the calling card of Earl Warren's pig farm.
To Warren, though, it's the sweet smell of money and tradition. He's the third generation to work this muddy dollop of land, one of Chesapeake's last mom-and-pop pork operations.
``I guess I'm used to it,'' Warren said of the odor. ``It's not that bad most of the time.''
That same smell has soured nearby neighbors, who have complained since 1977 that they can't open their windows, hold cookouts or enjoy the outdoors.
Warren has a simple reply: The pigs were here first.
This malodorous clash came to a head last year when the city of Chesapeake filed suit against the pig farmer.
It is a classic battle between suburban and old-time Chesapeake. So far, old-time Chesapeake appears to be winning.
The problem was compounded, Warren said, when the state condemned a large chunk of his family land to lay down the nearby interstates. It forced him to cut back the number of his pigs and concentrate them nearer to neighbors.
When Warren's neighbors approached city officials for help, Chesapeake beefed up local laws.
The city created a swine environmental control committee and cited Warren several times for violating the city code.
Warren initially failed to respond to the city's requests. He later said in court that hewas aware of the city requirements for maintaining adequate drainage, storing feed, and removing waste daily. He just couldn't comply because of the cost and time involved.
``It'd put me out of business,'' he said later.
The city filed suit against Warren in March 1995. The suit charged that Warren's operation was a violation of the city code and a public nuisance ``which threatens and endangers the health, safety and welfare of the citizens of Chesapeake.''
The case, however, has been stalled in court for the past 1 1/2 years, thanks in part to a state law that apparently gives Warren the right to raise a stink.
State agricultural laws prohibit any farm or agricultural use from being declared a nuisance as long as its owner abides by state law and management practices. The courts have yet to decide whether Warren is abiding by best-management practices. The next hearing is scheduled for Aug. 28.
So far, city officials have been unable to show that negligence by Warren has caused his pigs to stink.
City officials have tried to get the state law changed.
But just as hogs love slop, Virginia loves its farmers.
A request for the city by Del. Lionell Spruill, a former councilman, was quickly tabled by a state agricultural subcommittee.
``It has been a very difficult problem, with all of the citizens' discomfort,'' said Chesapeake city attorney Ronald S. Hallman. ``We're certainly not trying to put him out of business. We're just trying to have him comply with the law and live with these neighbors in a neighborly way.''
About 40 yards away from Warren's 15 1/2 acres, the stench has invaded Jerry A. Windley's sensibilities for the past 26 years.
Windley, a 63-year-old retired school district employee, said he can't open his windows, walk around the neighborhood or enjoy his deck without being followed by the smell of swine.
About six years ago, Windley's daughter wanted to have her wedding in the back yard. ``But there was no way we could do it,'' Windley said. ``No way.''
``He does not cooperate with this community whatsoever,'' he said of Warren.
``Times change and the city has changed,'' he added, ``and, to me, this is totally ridiculous.''
Warren, 50, has also seen the change. His operation totaled 100 acres before the state condemned about 80 acres for the nearby interstate system, which borders one side of his property.
``I'm right here where everyone sees everything I got,'' he said, pointing to the interstate. ``But that's nothin' that I did. It's somethin' the state did.''
Warren, who wears a brass belt buckle in the shape of a pig, has reduced his hog population from about 500 in 1994 to about 100 now. He has tried to grow grass and rye on the land his hogs use, but the rooting animals have already destroyed most of it. Such is the nature of pigs, he said.
``They're going to go after the top and then they're going to go after the bottom,'' he said.
In many ways, Warren believes the interstates' impact has contributed to the smell. If he had more land, he said, it wouldn't be as bad.
Warren's attorney, Barry Hodge, with the non-profit Defenders of Property Rights in Washington, said, ``The city has said they want the court to shut Mr. Warren down so he can't raise any hogs at all, or they desire that he be brought into strict compliance with the ordinance, which in our opinion is also a means to shut him down.
``It's impossible to comply with,'' Hodge added. ``Obviously the city hasn't seen fit to, I guess, end the battle. All I can say is that we're here to see that justice is done on behalf of Mr. Warren. It's far more than just a matter of odor.''
Warren plans to hang in as long as he can.
``But I'm certainly tired of them,'' he said. ``It's just working under stress. And in this business, you got enough stress. You've got to keep these animals alive, because dead ones don't make you no money. It's not like a job where you say at 4 o'clock, `I'm outta here.'
``It's really a people problem,'' added Warren. ``It'd sure be nice if I could go to the city for help. I need help.'' ILLUSTRATION: [Color Photo]
RICHARD L. DUNSTON
The Virginian-Pilot
Neighbors say the smell from Earl Warren's Chesapeake hog farm is
unbearable. Warren says suburban sprawl and a new interstate have
forced him to work in a smaller area, moving the hogs closer to
nearby residents.
VP map
KEYWORDS: HOG FARM by CNB