BAKERSFIELD — James and George Borba thought they were giving residents of Kern County just what they wanted.
Invited by county officials into this rich agricultural valley, the Chino dairymen were impressed by what they saw: vast expanses of inexpensive farmland, a local government traditionally friendly to agriculture, and practically no neighbors in sight of their 4,700 acres south of the city limits.
"It's a perfect place to build a dairy: out in the middle of nowhere," George Borba said last spring.
But the Borba cousins soon discovered that there may no longer be such a place as the middle of nowhere, at least not in the rapidly urbanizing Central Valley. Especially if you're moving in with 28,572 Holstein cattle.
Their proposed dairy is 2 1/2 miles from Bakersfield's city line, but that's too close for many residents of the city's new southwestern housing developments. Homeowners have organized against the dairy, concerned that manure dust might blow across playgrounds and that real estate values might fall.
Much more is at stake, though, than local interests. The Borbas' foray into Kern County is being watched closely by dairy operators, environmentalists and public officials across the state. California surpassed Wisconsin last decade as the nation's leading milk producer, and other Southern California firms also are eyeing the Central Valley for future expansion.
In Bakersfield, the Borba dairy controversy has turned into a debate over the city's identity, with agricultural preservationists and slow-growth advocates taking issue with pro-development forces and some newer residents.
Residents convened an emergency meeting last month at a southwest school auditorium, and George and James Borba attended to answer questions.
The mood quickly turned ugly. One by one, homeowners stood up to attack the dairy plan.
"They can say anything they want," said David Earl, an insurance man who moved from Los Angeles to Bakersfield five years ago, "but they're not going to reimburse me when I can't sell my house."
In a few short hours, the Borbas saw their dreams flicker. "I'm disappointed," said James Borba. "What disappoints me is that people didn't want to listen and they already made up their minds. It's been a real shock."
In recent weeks, the Borbas withdrew their proposal from consideration by the Kern County Board of Supervisors, and they waited for the holidays to pass before reentering the public forum.
