Sam Bowen and her two children moved from Baldwin, WI, back to her family’s Elmwood, WI, farm in 2013. The plan was to recoup from a difficult divorce and start fresh.
But she and her father Ty Fisher soon found themselves confronting an array of problems now facing many rural families across Wisconsin. First came illnesses and drinking water pollution. Then came word that a nearby dairy factory farm intended to quadruple their herd to 6,500 cows and haul more than 10,000 truckloads of manure each year to spread on some 10,000 acres of land. The dairy factory farm also hoped to construct a refinery to produce factory farm gas.
For two people who’d never spoken out about protecting human health or rallied their neighbors around property rights, Sam and Ty have become a formidable team committed to standing up for their rural community.
Support from both political parties is fueling massive expansions of factory farms in Wisconsin. People spanning the political spectrum are resisting. State lawmakers know little about this resistance, but rural communities are ready for change. “We got enough people together and we got something done,” said Ty, who bought his farm in 1982, when he was just 19 years old.
Those efforts started after Sam’s daughter, just three years old at the time, began having stomach issues and was vomiting daily. A short time later, Sam showed similar issues. Medical treatments didn’t work. Sam and her daughter were eventually diagnosed with cyclic vomiting syndrome, a chronic condition for which there is no known cause.
Then one day in 2020, a friend suggested that Sam test her well water for nitrates. These chemicals are found in fertilizers, manure, and septic tanks that can seep through soils and porous “karst” bedrock, like that in Pierce County, and contaminate water. High concentrations of nitrates are known to nausea and vomiting, “blue baby” syndrome, and cancer. When Sam had her family’s well water tested, the results showed nitrate levels at 12.9 parts per million (ppm). Anything over 10 ppm is considered unsafe.
She switched her family to bottled water and ordered a reverse osmosis system for the house. “We immediately started feeling better,” says Sam.
Sam's nitrate research revealed that living between two large factory dairies, each with more than 1,500 cows, was increasing their risk. And when Sam found out that one of the operations had intentions of expanding to 6,500 cows that would generate 88 million gallons of liquid manure per year, she said, “I knew I had to do something.”
It Wasn’t Always Like This
Ty built Fisher Farms from the ground up. He started out milking cows but switched to raising beef cattle about 12 years ago. He knows his fellow farmers and always tried to be a good neighbor. When one developed prostate cancer a few years ago, Ty pitched in to help haul grain for five days straight — no questions asked; no payment taken.
“That’s what neighbors do,” he said.
Gradually, the farms around him got bigger. The semi-truck traffic to haul feed or liquid manure began to increase. Some of the drivers were reckless. Road damage and manure spills were not uncommon, Ty said. One of the operations, Fetzer Farms, started running an incinerator to burn the carcasses of dead cows. The smell was horrendous. For Ty, these actions show a certain disregard for others living nearby.
“I'm a religious guy, and there are ten rules in life, and one of them is: Don't do unto your neighbors what you wouldn’t want done unto yourself,” he said.
The worst part, he said, is seeing state and federal taxes used to fund the growth of large dairy factory farms. The presence of those operations create road damage and lower property values.
“I'm sick and tired of taking my tax dollars and sending them in to ruin my community,” Ty said.
Building Momentum
After Sam found out about the intended expansion of the nearby factory farm, Ridge Breeze Dairy, she started doing research, talking with neighbors, and posting questions to different Facebook pages. Some people responded to her posts with criticisms, accusing her of being anti-farmer and calling her a tree hugger. Others agreed to join her efforts. They connected with Bill Hogseth of GrassRoots of Western Wisconsin (GROWW), who offered assistance and workshops to get organized.
“I did every single training possible to learn how to organize and lead,” said Sam.
The group started a petition asking Pierce County to put a moratorium on factory farm expansions. They got 2,000 signatures and a committee hearing from the county board. Remarkably, three of the five committee members voted yes. Sam and Ty felt as though they were building momentum.
The next morning, something strange happened. Huge semi-truck tankers filled with liquid manure from Ridge Breeze Dairy’s farm started hauling manure to nearby fields for spreading. Normally the trucks use a county road designed to support their weight. But on this day, the day after the moratorium passed, the trucks used the narrow, partially gravel backroad on which Sam and Ty lived. The trucks ran for 13 hours straight, their tires grinding into the pavement and gravel.
“I couldn't make it out of my driveway. My house sounded like an airport. It reeked,” said Sam. She called the chair of the Rock Elm council and complained. The town fined the factory farm $10,000 for the damage.
At the next Pierce County committee meeting, originally scheduled to discuss details of the moratorium, one of the “yes” votes reversed to “no.” The moratorium was dead.
Showing Up
Losing the moratorium was a real blow. But they’d had setbacks before. From the very beginning, Sam and Ty weren’t sure they’d be able to do anything at all. Sometimes, Sam would hit a wall and need to take a break, so Ty would take up slack, he said. Other times, he would need a break and Sam would jump in. “We would go back and forth,” Ty said.
By early 2024, Ridge Breeze Dairy had applied for the necessary permit from the Department of Natural Resources to expand. A public hearing, to be conducted exclusively over Zoom, was scheduled for July. Sam and Ty worked with volunteers from GROWW and People Protecting Pierce to get the word out. They also rented the auditorium at Elmwood High School, so that folks without internet could attend. About 150 people showed up in person, with another 300 registering online. More than 30 people provided oral comments over four hours. All of those who testified spoke in opposition to the expansion, except for one paid lobbyist, who spoke in favor.
Sam said she had way too much coffee that day and couldn’t stand still. After each person spoke, the room erupted in applause. For Sam, it was one of the highlights of her life. “I was just like, I can't believe that we pulled this off,” she said.
On February 20, 2025, the DNR approved Ridge Breeze Dairy’s expansion. However, local communities may challenge the permit. In the meantime, the nearby town of Maiden Rock passed a livestock ordinance to hold factory farms accountable for road damage and other issues. Other towns are moving to do the same, as strong bi-partisan coalitions band together to resist factory farm and farm gas expansion. Sam and Ty are resolved to pushing forward. They’ve developed deep friendships and believe that the work they’re doing is for the greater good.
“So many people in this community are scared,” said Sam. “It’s been hard, but this was meant to happen to help people have a voice. I'm proud of that.”