{"id":29629,"date":"2013-07-15T07:07:03","date_gmt":"2013-07-15T12:07:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stateimpact.npr.org\/texas\/?p=29629"},"modified":"2013-07-24T09:37:11","modified_gmt":"2013-07-24T14:37:11","slug":"eminent-domain-in-texas-landowners-face-continued-uncertainty","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stateimpact.npr.org\/texas\/2013\/07\/15\/eminent-domain-in-texas-landowners-face-continued-uncertainty\/","title":{"rendered":"Eminent Domain: In Texas, Landowners Face Continued Uncertainty"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Jake<\/a>

Photo by Mose Buchele<\/p>

Jake White, a Jefferson Country farmer, looks at a section of the Crosstex NGL pipeline before it is buried under his field.<\/p><\/div>\n


\nThis is part one of a three-part series devoted to looking at efforts to overhaul eminent domain in Texas and what may come next for landowners, pipeline companies, and the oil and gas industry. Read Part Two here<\/a>.<\/strong><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

At Margaret O\u2019Keefe\u2019s farm, outside of Beaumont in East Texas, they grow high quality Bermuda grass. The fields are flat, vibrant light green and dotted with crawfish burrows. They’re surrounded by woods of a darker, richer green.<\/p>\n

The land has deep significance to the family. O\u2019Keefe inherited it from her mother who divided it among her eight children.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe used to call it ‘Enchanted Valley,'” O’Keefe reminisced on a muggy summer afternoon while driving through her fields. “Sometimes it rains here and it won\u2019t rain anywhere else. And sometimes it rains outside of here and rain never touches here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her ‘Enchanted Valley’ also lies in the path of the Crosstex NGL Pipeline<\/a>.\u00a0 That\u2019s a 130-mile, multimillion-dollar project to funnel natural gas liquids from Texas to processing plants in Louisiana.<\/p>\n

All across the state, a rush is on to build up infrastructure to transport the vast reserves of oil and gas unleashed by hydraulic fracturing, or “fracking.” Pipelines are the preferred method. But, as is the case at the O’Keefe’s farm, the plans of the pipeline companies often clash with the desires of landowners.<\/p>\n

\"Margaret<\/a>

Photo by Mose Buchele<\/p>

Margaret O'Keefe at her farm in Jefferson County.<\/p><\/div>\n

Over a lunch of tamales at her kitchen table, O’Keefe and her brother Dick told the story of how the pipeline came to the farm. They say it started when a man representing Crosstex knocked on the door. Companies often approach farmers in Texas about using their land. So, as she had learned years ago, O’Keefe told him she didn\u2019t want anyone on her property until the company agreed to cover liability in case a worker got hurt.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd they just kind of ignored it and surveyed the property regardless,” she said.<\/p>\n

Upset, O\u2019Keefe and her brother told Crosstex they didn\u2019t like the offer the company had made.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey turned it over to the lawyers. We got a nice fat packet in the mail that said, \u2018We\u2019ll see you in court,” Dick O\u2019Keefe said.<\/p>\n

Crosstex had checked a box <\/a>on a state government form called a T-4, declaring itself a \u201ccommon carrier.\u201d That\u2019s how companies get the right of eminent domain for pipelines<\/a>. It means that if the O\u2019Keefes weren\u2019t going to sell the land, the company would take it anyway, paying a price determined at the courts. The O\u2019Keefes could have challenged Crosstex in court, but that was an option they quickly rejected.<\/p>\n