A state effort to acquire emerging wetlands in east central McHenry County would help preserve a breeding habitat for a number of unique bird species, but nearby residents say the ever-encroaching bog is threatening to drive them from their homes.
The state Department of Natural Resources has bought 76 acres next to Moraine Hills State Park for $920,000 in order to expand what is known as the Black Crown Marsh Project. And negotiations are in the works to buy an adjacent 80-acre parcel at a similar price from a local developer, agency spokeswoman Carol Knowles said.
If the second land deal goes through, it may prove to be a drowning point for residents on Lily Lake Road who have watched water rising daily behind their homes, forming what has become a 500-acre lake.
The purchase by the state, which has also offered to buy sections of the residents’ property, wouldn’t force them out of their homes. But it could extinguish any hope they have of reversing the situation.
Efforts to drain the property have been thwarted by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers because the property has been deemed a protected wetland that can’t be disturbed.
“Even if we were draining it–which we’re not–they have no business being here,” said Terry Niemann, a Lily Lake Road resident who has confronted the Army Corps for sending out inspectors unannounced. “It’s not like they own it. We’re the ones who live here.”
The history of the problem goes back to the early 1900s, when farmers laid drain tiles in the creek running beneath Lily Lake Road so they could till straight through the fields. In 1955, the township added a culvert to ease irrigation.
Development eventually weakened the tiles and the property began to flood. By the early 1990s, dozens of murky ponds had grown into a lake, luring such birds as the black-crowned high heron and the least bittern–which recently was removed from the state’s list of endangered species. The long-lost creek had resurfaced into what became a protected wetland, and ultimately, a state park.
“It became a nuisance and a mosquito hatchery,” said Will Blake, who sold his 10 acres to a private buyer for $400,000 in 1995.
Repairing the drain tiles seemed a logical remedy to the flooding to the residents. But the Army Corps, which grants repair permits under the federal Clean Water Act, said the site had reverted to its pre-1913 wetland condition and threatened to impose fines if any draining was done.
Exactly how and why their once-pastoral property became a government-protected wetland still puzzles Pat and Peter Stamas, who paid $130,000 for eight dry acres in 1978. Weeping willows dotted fields roamed by their goats, horses and llama.
Today the now-leafless trees sit in five feet of algae-strewn water, and the animals have been given away to owners who live on higher ground.
Their neighbors, Susan and Rick Schwan, earn their livelihood boarding horses at their 39-acre farm. But with 10 acres now part of the marsh, many riding trails are unusable.
While sealing deals on larger tracts of land, state officials also went door-to-door offering residents an opportunity to sell the parts of their properties that were submerged. But visits from the state have done little to sway the Stamases, who want to retire on their property. Even so, Pat Stamas was curious–and admittedly desperate–when she recently asked a state worker for initial estimates.
“He said they would pay between $2,000 and $3,000 an acre for my wetlands,” Stamas said. “I told him I don’t have any wetlands. That’s my backyard, and the taxes I pay on it are higher than that.”
Cheri Stoneburner, who owns six acres on Lily Lake Road, says she’s had enough and most likely will accept the state’s offer, then move to Lake County.
“Right now, I’m putting my faith in the state only because in the past five years they’ve been my only viable option,” she said.
Though state officials declined to confirm the offering price, Knowles said competition from developers isn’t a factor when buying wetlands, thus keeping the price down.
“We would only acquire on a willing-seller basis,” she said.
Meanwhile, residents remain hopeful that the Army Corps will eventually approve an application they filed in March to repair the drain tiles.
Army Corps spokeswoman Carol Massar said residents should have been notified in April that their application was incomplete because there was nothing to show how potential draining damage could be reversed.
Ralph Schmidt, a Wauconda engineer who was hired to write the application, said: “It kind of begs the question: Why now? Why this big push to buy it up right now?”
