My recent columns about the land-application of meat-processing sludge peeved our Barry County commissioners.

“Your columns weren’t incorrect; they just didn’t explain enough,” said one commissioner.

He was a little hot.

“People have been calling us, demanding that we put a stop to the use of sludge,” he said. “But, we can’t. Our hands are tied.”

Let me set the record straight.

The commissioner is telling the truth, at least as far as he and I understand it.

In 2019, then-Governor Mike Parson signed into law Missouri Senate Bill 391, designed to protect agricultural operations — concentrated animal feeding operations (CAFOs), in particular. Senate Bill 391 prohibited — and continues to prohibit — county commissions and health departments from passing local laws more restrictive than state laws for agricultural operations.

The passage of SB 391 represented “a big win for Missouri farmers, ranchers, and agribusinesses,” Governor Parson said at the time.

Jefferson City Senator, Mike Bernskoetter, sponsored SB 391 “to help farmers expand operations without having to spend money and time to comply with local restrictions,” he stated in an interview with KRCGtv news (https://krcgtv.com/news/local/missouri-supreme-court-rules-in-favor-of-sb-391).

A hue and cry followed SB 391’s passage.

Some counties already had tighter restrictions than state laws. They, along with a few environmental groups, contested the bill. Their concerns were for the possible compromise of air and water quality associated with neighboring CAFOs.

Stephen Jeffery, St. Louis environmental attorney, argued on behalf of the plaintiffs that SB 391 violated Missouri’s 2014 “Right to Farm” amendment, which granted authority to counties to regulate agriculture (https://www.stlpr.org/law-order/2023-03-22/missouri-supreme-court-upholds-state-law-prohibiting-local-regulation-of-cafos).

The Missouri Supreme Court didn’t buy it. In March 2023, the court nixed Jeffery’s argument and ruled in favor of CAFOs.

Counties were stripped of their jurisdiction in their attempts to preserve air and water quality surrounding agricultural enterprises.

Whether the land-application of sludge (the dead animal scraps and chemicals contained in wastewater pre-treatment skimmings) qualifies as an ag operation is a debatable question. Residents of a county would need deep pockets to argue the point, though, because the sludge-contractors don’t roll over and play dead. They have lobbyists in Jeff City, and their representatives are present to comment on every piece of pending legislation that pertains to their industry.

The Barry County Commission’s hands are indeed tied. They can’t throw up a cease-and-desist order in the face of sludge-contractors intent on bringing their wares up from Arkansas and dumping them in Barry County. A person has to go up the chain.

Take your concerns to Missouri House Representative Scott Cupps and Missouri Senator Mike Moon. They’re both farmers by trade, though, so they may have agricultural bias. Complaining about the stink of a farming operation next door is not likely to phase them, in part because a law passed in 2011 protects agricultural operations from “nuisance suits” centering around odors and other discomforts brought by living in close proximity to ag operations. Unless (remember this phrase; it’s important!) — unless monetary damages can be proven.

Although the county commissioners’ hands are legislatively tied, they can voice their opinions to the people who can make a difference, just as each of us can.

“I don’t want the stuff here,” southern commissioner Gene Robbins said.

I was glad to hear him say it.

Agriculture is not the only economic interest of Barry County.

Southern Barry County is home to Roaring River State Park, a place we long-time residents, especially those who live in the northern part of the county, tend to take for granted.

We can’t afford to.

In 2025, Roaring River State Park drew in 1,254,931 visitors: up a bit from the year before, but that number remains fairly consistent. Those visitors to Roaring River spend money in our county. They stay in our resorts, eat in our restaurants, fuel up at our gas stations, shop in our businesses and enjoy a slice of nature that they can’t find in St. Louis or Kansas City. They contribute to our tax revenue.

I guarantee they won’t want to smell our stink.

The karst hydrogeology below Barry County is porous and fragile. If our recreational waters — and our drinking water — are fouled by excess nutrients and other contaminants that can seep through the cracks, sinkholes and caves surrounding us and below our feet, I’m pretty sure our one-million-plus annual visitors won’t like that either.

Provable monetary damages could follow.

I hope it won’t come to that.

We’ve got a lot to lose in Barry County.

Sheila Harris is a long-time Barry County resident and a sales executive and investigative reporter for the Cassville Democrat with a particular interest in environmental topics. She may be reached at [email protected].