Fannin County, Texas -- Tricia still remembers the first time she held the real estate listing in her hands. There were photos of whitetail deer, native birds, and fruit trees.
"It excited the deepest part of our spirit," Tricia recalls.
While residents of Fannin County may take the wildlife and natural resources of rural North Texas for granted, to a young couple with a growing family and a driving desire to escape the metroplex, it looked like paradise.
Tricia and her husband, Kalin, had been saving every penny since 2020 in hopes of finding a piece of land that could support their dreams. To that end, they bought a used fifth wheel RV and parked it in Forney, a 30-minute drive east of Dallas.
In 2022, the young couple was blessed with a daughter, Ruby.
"The three of us scrimped and sacrificed, investing every last penny my determined husband earned working seven days a week," says Tricia. "Our dream has been to get away from the oppressive and growing toxicity of the DFW metroplex, and start a holistic homestead that we could also operate as a nonprofit for our community. Our hearts are deeply concerned for the rising rate of families, friends, and acquaintances that have found themselves trapped in the systemic impoverishment of the city. Monetarily, mentally, and spiritually."
They searched for the right place; a place where people could heal, grow and learn. Not long after the birth of their son, Elijah, in the summer of 2024, Kalin and Tricia saw a real estate listing that captivated them.
"At the center of the property, a 300-year-old pecan tree proudly proclaimed the health and vitality of the land," Tricia observed.
The young mother took it as a good omen.
"The off-grid dwelling was in alignment with our desire to be completely self-sustained," she goes on to explain. "The surrounding property was owned by hay balers and cattle farmers - it all promised peace at a minimum and perhaps even an opportunity to expand....or, so we were told."
Moving to Fannin County
In August 2024, the young family moved into their new home in rural Fannin County. There were plenty of challenges along the way, like the tiny, invisible "stickers" that infested their yard, but Kalin and Tricia pressed on, chasing the dream of what their homestead could be.
So, what was it like, moving from the hustle and bustle that rural Texans jokingly refer to as "the metromess" and putting down stakes in the sandy loam of northern Fannin County where people have room to spread out?
"We fell in love," Tricia says softly. "The community boasted homesteaders, ranchers, and hobby gardeners. It was everything we hoped for. We could do anything, serve anyone, and raise up something beautiful for our children to inherit. We used every last penny we had saved during those four years to purchase the property. We were starting over, but finally really beginning."
Then, in December 2024, Kalin and Tricia heard the cracking of trees echoing to their temporary shelter.
"We watched with broken hearts as the land behind us was demolished," Tricia says. "Maybe we are getting new neighbors?" they wondered aloud.
They questioned each other about this troubling development. Quick searches revealed that the ownership of the property hasn't changed.
"Maybe they're just collecting timber," they surmised, hoping for the best.
As more and more machinery arrived on scene, they became increasingly concerned. Finally, Kalin was able to stop and talk to someone working on the property.
"Roughly two weeks into the new year we learned the devastating truth," Tricia fumed. "The land next to us was being paved for a sand and gravel mine."
She checked and the land was still represented as agriculturally exempt. It was owned by a rancher. But Kalin and Tricia would soon learn that the rancher owned a multimillion dollar aggregation company.
"Now our well water, air, quality of life, and dreams of peacefully raising our children here are all under threat," Tricia sighs. "Our hope to start a nonprofit under the community farm category is wavering. Our surrounding wildlife has already diminished significantly. What would be the quality of this land as an inheritance for our children now?"
Kalin and Tricia are not alone in their concern. Fannin County Judge Newt Cunningham is on the record as saying that sand plants don't bring many jobs, the heavy trucks damage roads and the sand operations are not what he considers good development.
But, since the state legislature doesn't allow counties to zone in most circumstances, options are limited. The county could begin strictly enforcing noise ordinances. Fannin County Commissioners Court has discussed buying scales in order to begin handing out fines to drivers of overweight trucks that do the most damage to roads.
"As research informed me, this is a much bigger issue across all of Fannin County and precinct 1," Tricia continues. "These mines threaten the health and vitality of our county on an increasingly detrimental scale. It is well known that these mines destroy water, soil, and air quality, wildlife and biodiversity. This practice is completely unsustainable and could make peaceful living and farming in Fannin County slip through our fingers. If you are passionate about preserving the natural beauty, health, and diversity of our area I humbly implore you to sign this petition I have initiated, here."
