A 175-year-old New Jersey family farm faces a government land grab that’s as audacious as it is heartless. In Cranbury Township, brothers Christopher and Andy Henry are battling to save their heritage from a town council itching to seize their land via eminent domain, as the New York Post reports. This isn’t just a local spat -- it’s a stark reminder of bureaucracy trampling on property rights.
For over a dozen years, the Henry brothers have poured sweat and $200,000 into their farm, now leased for cattle grazing. Cranbury’s plan to bulldoze this legacy for state-mandated affordable housing sums up the story: a town committee greenlit the seizure, ignoring the family’s deep roots. The Henrys, unmoved by developer offers up to $30 million, aren’t backing down.
The saga began when Cranbury’s town committee, with a nod to “progress,” signed off on eminent domain. The Henrys have fought for months, arguing their farm’s location near warehouses makes it a poor fit for housing. Better sites exist, they say, but the town seems deaf to reason.
The Henry brothers, through attorney Timothy Dugan, point out the hypocrisy: Cranbury claims to value agricultural preservation while plotting to pave over their fields. Dugan’s argument is sharp, seizing a farm contradicts the town’s rhetoric. Yet, the council barrels forward, blind to the irony.
Cranbury Mayor Lisa Knierim defends the move, citing fears of “builder’s remedy lawsuits” from developers. “No one wants to see a farm disappear,” she’s paraphrased as saying, but actions speak louder than words. Her push for eminent domain feels like a betrayal of rural values.
Knierim insists a “fair market price” would be offered if the seizure happens. But Andy Henry scoffs, noting it “would offer us a lot less than a warehouse developer would.” The math doesn’t add up, and neither does the town’s logic.
Enter U.S. Department of Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins, who’s taken notice of the Henrys’ plight. “We must protect family farms at all costs,” Rollins declared, vowing to explore “every legal option to help.” Her call to Andy Henry was a rare glimmer of hope in this bureaucratic nightmare.
Rollins admitted the issue is local, not federal, but promised to make calls. “She’s trying to help in any way she could,” Andy Henry recounted. It’s a small but meaningful gesture from a Trump administration that’s fed up with government overreach.
“Looking into this situation immediately,” Rollins said, signaling the administration’s distaste for “Biden-style government takeovers.” Her words resonate with conservatives who see eminent domain as a tool of the progressive agenda. The Henrys, meanwhile, are just trying to keep what’s theirs.
Andy Henry’s reaction sums up the family’s shock: “Totally shocked us.” They’ve rejected multimillion-dollar deals because they “don’t even want to sell it.” This isn’t about money -- it’s about legacy, something Cranbury’s council seems incapable of grasping.
The farm’s 175-year history is a testament to the Henry family’s grit. Now, it’s a battleground for property rights against a town council wielding eminent domain like a sledgehammer. The Henrys’ resolve is as firm as the soil they’ve tilled for generations.
Cranbury Township, a small Middlesex County enclave with a population of several thousand, sits in north-central New Jersey. Its push for affordable housing might sound noble, but targeting a family farm reeks of misplaced priorities. The Henrys deserve better than this heavy-handed tactic.
The Henrys’ fight strikes a chord with conservatives who see government overreach everywhere -- from urban zoning boards to federal mandates. Eminent domain, often cloaked in “public good” rhetoric, too frequently crushes individual rights. Cranbury’s move is a case study of that abuse.
Rollins’ involvement elevates this from a local dust-up to a national talking point. Her pledge to protect farms like the Henrys’ aligns with a MAGA ethos that champions hard-working Americans over faceless bureaucracies. It’s a stance that resonates far beyond New Jersey’s borders.
FOX Business sought comment from Knierim and Dugan, but the real story is the Henrys’ defiance. Their farm isn’t just land -- it’s a symbol of what’s at stake when government forgets who it serves. Cranbury’s council might learn that lesson the hard way.
