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A small herd of cows wades in the Apple River. (Photo by Lauren Williamson/Medill)

NORA, IL -- Judy Bergstrom looked through her car window at the half-dozen cows wading in the Apple River at the base of North Broadway Road in Stockton.

“We used to swim here when we were kids,” said Bergstrom, 54, whose family has lived in Jo Daviess County for five generations. “There used to be cattle in there when I was a kid [too]. They’d all look at you, but they never bothered you.”

Bergstrom and her husband, Tom, were driving through a wooded valley nestled between the Apple Canyon Lake and Apple River Canyon State Park, looking for bald eagles but instead finding pockets of cows around every curve of the road. The Bergstroms expect to see cows in Jo Daviess, a far northwestern Illinois county home to more than 57,000 cattle—the largest bovine population in the state.

“They’re doing just fine,” said Tom Bergstrom, 59, vice president of the activist group Helping Others Maintain Environmental Standards. “They’re in an open pasture. They go down and get water, and some of those cows are going to poop in the water, there’s no question about that. But you’re talking onesies-twosies, and the rest is getting applied to the land, and it’s making the grass grow.”

Jo Daviess’ cow community could see a population explosion if construction continues on Tradition Dairy South, a concentrated animal feeding operation a mile west of tiny Nora slated to house roughly 5,000 cows—and the 90 million gallons of waste the animals will produce each year.

Splintered by a heated dispute over the proposed dairy and potential environmental hazards to the water supply, residents of Nora and surrounding communities have spent months swamped in controversy. The debate started last fall when A.J. Bos, a Bakersfield, Calif., dairyman, announced his plans to build on the southern portion of a 1400-acre site divided by East Mahoney Road. Workers broke ground June 16 for Tradition Dairy South, which is scheduled to begin operation by the end of this year.

Bos, who has interests in AJB Ranch and Maple Dairy in California, declined several requests for comment.

While Bos’ operation would be the largest dairy in Illinois, it’s an issue far bigger than one man and one farm.

In recent years, Bos’ home state of California has supported the largest population of dairy cows in the United States, with more than 2.8 million head, according to the most recent U.S. Department of Agriculture census from 2002. Due to rising grain and fuel costs, drought-depleted water supplies and tightening environmental regulations, West Coast dairy farmers are looking to Midwestern states like Illinois as a new land of plenty.

“The State of Illinois has been promoting dairy to bring it back,” said Alan Kent, a member of Jo Daviess County Board who voted against the dairy proposal in January. The Board, including Kent, rejected Tradition Dairy by a vote of 11 to 5. Board members said the dairy proposal did not sufficiently meet all eight siting criteria outlined in the state Livestock Management Facilities Act. “And they’re going to keep promoting it. And will [the state] bring more? You may see one coming in your backyard before too long.”

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(Photo by Lauren Williamson/Medill)

Big Dairy Finds Big Support at Nora Bar

California dairyman A. J. Bos occasionally stops by the unassuming Nora Bar with its small beach volleyball court and a cadre of local supporters for big dairy. Bos, who walks with a determined step, is planning a 5,000-cow dairy about a mile from the diminutive bar in rural Jo Daviess County, pressed against the Mississippi River in northwestern Illinois.

The bar has a reputation as a pro-dairy haven within a fractured community. Members of Helping Others Maintain Environmental Standards, as well as about 20 other Jo Daviess residents, filed a complaint in state court in June against Bos and the Illinois Department of Agriculture to halt construction on the dairy, riling supporters and pitting a small town against itself.

But on Tuesday nights, residents of Nora and nearby towns gather at the bar for dollar beer night. After just a few minutes in the dimly lit room, the only business on the village’s main drag, South North Street, it’s easy to see how the lives intertwine in tiny Nora.
This night, a little boy accidentally calls 911 on his mom’s cell phone. When a police officer shows up to check out the situation, the little boy starts crying. The man isn’t just a police officer; he is also the boy’s baseball coach.

Village President Mark Mullen, a sturdy man in his mid-40s, drops by in a baseball cap and shorts from his home about a mile away on Stagecoach Trail Road. In his front yard, he placed a sign that reads “Happy Cows Come from California” – quite a contrast to the hand-painted, anti-megadairy signs prominently scattered throughout the area. From a casual glance, signs denouncing the dairy appear to overwhelm those supporting it.

“Got Water?” posits one. “Will Bos Buy Us New Wells?” asks another.
Like many in Nora, Mullen commutes to a job outside the community. He cuts down trees that grow too close to power lines in southern Wisconsin.

Tradition Dairy, Mullen said, will bring 40 jobs to help shore up the village’s sagging economy. In 1990, Nora had a population of 162, but that number fell to 116 in the 2000 census. The number will drop even further, Mullen predicts, as the 2010 numbers are tallied. Unless, of course, more employment opportunities develop.

“Job-wise, there’s nothing in the area,” he said. Two of the major local employers, Carter Motor Company in Warren and Dura Automotive Parts in Stockton, are struggling from the downturn in U.S. car manufacturing.

“So if we can get jobs in the area,” Mullen said, his thought trailing a bit. “And according to A.J. he was going to pay $10 an hour with some benefits. Well, that’s not a great wage, but it’s better than what’s here now."