Regional water planners would flood 67,000 acres in northeastern Texas and pipes would carry the water to DFW.
DALLAS — In Cuthand, when the wind whispers, even nature listens.
Beyond the soft rustle of oak leaves, the forest is still. White-tailed deer pause their grazing, alert, their eyes scanning the silence. On crisp days, the hum of Interstate 30 feels a distant echo, unable to break the peace.
“This, to me, is heaven,” says Eddie Belcher, his voice a quiet testament to the landscape. “The calm. The serenity.”
The quiet vanishes when the engine of his side-by-side vehicle hums to life, breaking the stillness. At 62, he sets off down a gravel trail his grandfather once forged. Towering hardwoods rise on either side, and remnants of ancient Caddo mounds dot the land, reminders of centuries past.
“You never know what you’ll see out here,” he says. “Bald eagles, armadillos, possums. The wildlife is everywhere.”
The trail meanders past the cabin he built by hand, a place where his older brother sometimes stays, living off the grid, far from electricity. It ends at the house his great-grandfather once called home—a structure with a leaning chimney and a tin roof.
“This is where it all started,” Belcher gestures toward the house. “I added a room on that side.”
Today, it serves as a resting spot for hunters, a home filled with beds and memories. Polaroids of impressive game kills hang on the walls like badges of honor.
Belcher recalls childhood nights spent in the cabin, playing dominoes with cousins until the early hours of the morning, only to rise at 5 a.m. to fish or hunt. Occasionally, polecats—what Belcher calls skunks—would wander through, freezing everyone in place to avoid the stench.
Over 700 acres of land surround him, passed down from both sides of his family. His dream is to keep the ranch in the family for seven generations, handing it down to his six grandchildren. But that dream faces a serious threat.
THE WATER CRISIS
“I think about it every day,” Belcher says, his voice heavy with worry. “If things don’t change, everything my family built could be lost.”
Texas water experts have raised alarms over the region’s water supply. If current trends continue, Dallas-Fort Worth could face water shortages as soon as five years from now. By 2030, demand could exceed 220,000 acre-feet per year, and by 2080, that number may rise to over 1.3 million acre-feet annually.
“You’re going to see higher water rates, and soon, restrictions on usage,” says Kevin Ward, former chair of the regional water planning committee. “That’s just the beginning. Over time, growth will slow, jobs will dry up, and businesses may relocate. It’s a grim picture.”
The problem is urgent. Nearly 300 people move to the Dallas-Fort Worth area every day, each adding to the region’s already strained water demands. Businesses relocating to the area add even more pressure, requiring substantial amounts of water for industrial use.
“We don’t have enough water to meet future demand,” Ward says bluntly. “Texas doesn’t have the resources yet.”
A POSSIBLE SOLUTION: THE MARVIN NICHOLS RESERVOIR
One solution, long discussed by state leaders, is the construction of the Marvin Nichols Reservoir in northeastern Texas. By damming the Sulphur River, this project would create a lake to provide water to the Metroplex. Water would be transported via pipelines to Decatur, where it would be distributed to the growing urban center.
Currently, the Sulphur River’s water flows unimpeded into the Gulf of Mexico. At full capacity, the Marvin Nichols Reservoir could provide 300,000 acre-feet of water annually for the region—enough to support roughly 3 million people.
But the price tag is steep—ranging from $7 to $8 billion—and it’s expected to rise with every year of delay. Even then, the reservoir would supply only 23% of the water the region is projected to need by 2080.
“It’s a significant amount of water,” says Ward, “but it’s just one piece of the puzzle.”
The Sulphur River is ideally located close to Dallas-Fort Worth, meaning the infrastructure to transport the water would be shorter and cheaper to maintain than other potential sources.
“If we get that pipeline in place, we can start connecting to other reservoirs further east and south,” Ward says, envisioning a network of water sources feeding into the Metroplex.
The project’s timeline is long—at least two decades before it’s fully constructed. But for the project to be viable, it needs to be included in the state’s next water development plan, which is under review now.
THE COST OF PROGRESS
While the Dallas-Fort Worth planning committee supports the project, opposition runs deep in northeastern Texas, where the reservoir would flood 67,000 acres of land. Local leaders argue the project could devastate the environment and disrupt communities like Cuthand.
For Belcher, the loss is deeply personal.
“Where will my family go?” he asks, standing near his great-grandfather’s cabin, which lies in the heart of the proposed lake. “It’s not just about me. It’s about my community, my friends. This will tear everything apart.”
The project would also severely impact the timber industry, a cornerstone of the local economy. Ward Timber, a sawmill in Linden, processes hundreds of logs daily, turning them into products for industries across the country. The loss of land in the Sulphur River basin would make it impossible for local sawmills to continue their sustainable practices.
“Our concern is the loss of raw materials,” says Bret Lowery, manager of Ward Timber. “Without this land, we’ll have to source timber from elsewhere, and that’s going to drive prices up.”
Opponents like Jim Thompson, Ward Timber’s attorney, argue that the project isn’t necessary. They point to leaks in the existing water infrastructure and suggest alternative water sources, like a pipeline from Toledo Bend Reservoir, as more cost-effective solutions.
But Ward is unconvinced. He argues that solutions like the Toledo Bend pipeline would be far more expensive, pushing water rates even higher for residents.
“We need to explore every option,” Ward says. “We need to secure our future water supply.”
LOOKING FOR ALTERNATIVES
Some hope for technological breakthroughs that could solve the problem without the need for massive infrastructure projects. Desalination, though currently expensive, could become a viable solution as technology advances. Others advocate for recycling wastewater, though that idea still faces public skepticism.
In the end, the debate over Marvin Nichols will likely reach the Texas legislature. Lawmakers are already considering a proposal to allow the state to purchase water rights from other sources, which could provide additional water for Dallas-Fort Worth.
“We’re at a crossroads,” Ward admits. “This is a challenge, but it’s one we have to face head-on. Texas has always found a way to adapt.”
For Belcher, though, the stakes are personal.
“We’ve worked hard to keep this land in our family,” he says, his voice tinged with frustration. “God isn’t making any more of it. Leave us alone.”