A new letter from the Cardington‑Lincoln Local School District adds another clear voice to the growing public pushback against the proposed U.S. 23 Connector in Morrow County.

Superintendent Todd Spinner sent the message to State Senator Bill Reineke on March 9, outlining how the project would disrupt daily life for students, families, and the broader community.

While the letter focuses on school‑specific impacts, its concerns echo a larger pattern MarionWatch.com has been documenting for months: major infrastructure projects being advanced under the banner of “traffic relief” or “economic development,” while the real drivers—industrial growth and data center clustering—remain largely unspoken.

School District Flags Immediate, Real‑World Consequences

Spinner’s letter lays out several straightforward harms the district expects if the connector moves forward:

• School bus routes would be disrupted, forcing rerouting, longer travel times, and new safety risks for students.
• Property values could drop in both residential and agricultural areas, affecting family finances and long‑term stability.
• Prime farmland would be lost, eroding a core part of Morrow County’s economy and identity.
• The rural character of the district would be threatened, undermining what draws families to the area in the first place.
• Generational homes could be taken, causing emotional and cultural damage that can’t be undone.

The district urges ODOT to reconsider the route and weigh the long‑term consequences for the people who actually live here.

A Familiar Pattern: Infrastructure First, Disclosure Later

The concerns raised by Cardington Schools fit into a broader trend MarionWatch.com has been tracking: large‑scale infrastructure projects being pushed forward before the public is told the full story of what they’re meant to support.

In Morrow County we’ve reported on:

• Interstate‑grade road proposals that appear oversized for current traffic needs.
• Water and sewer expansions that far exceed residential growth projections.
• Quiet land acquisitions by industrial developers who are actually affiliated with the data center entities.
• State‑level fast‑tracking of permits and environmental reviews.
• A surge of data center interest across Central Ohio, with more than 200 facilities operating or planned statewide.

When you line up the timing, the scale, and the locations, a picture emerges: these infrastructure projects are not simply about easing congestion. They are about preparing the ground for massive data center clustering, which requires heavy electrical capacity, high‑volume water access, and high‑speed transportation corridors.

This is the same pattern seen in New Albany, Delaware County, and parts of Franklin County—build the infrastructure first, announce the data centers later.

Why This Matters for Schools

For a district like Cardington‑Lincoln, the stakes are especially high. Data centers bring:

• Huge water demands, often millions of gallons per day.
• Heavy electrical infrastructure, including substations and transmission lines.
• Industrial traffic during construction, which can last years.
• Long‑term land conversion, permanently changing the character of rural communities.

None of these impacts are mentioned in the official descriptions of the U.S. 23 Connector. But they are well‑documented outcomes in every Ohio county where data centers have clustered.

If the connector is being built to support that kind of industrial expansion, the school district’s concerns are not just valid—they may be understated.

Communities Are Asking for Transparency

The superintendent’s letter is part of a growing chorus of local governments, residents, and community groups asking state officials to be honest about what these projects are really for.

People are not opposed to progress. They are opposed to being kept in the dark.

If the U.S. 23 Connector is truly about safety and congestion, the state should be able to demonstrate that with clear data. If it is about preparing for industrial growth and data centers, then the public deserves to know that too—before farmland is taken, before homes are condemned, and before school districts are forced to redesign their entire transportation systems.

A Turning Point for Morrow County

Cardington Schools’ letter is notable not just for its content, but for its tone: calm, factual, and deeply rooted in the lived reality of the community. It reflects what many residents already feel—that decisions are being made far above their heads, with consequences they will bear for generations.

As more local institutions speak up, the pressure grows for state officials to slow down, answer questions, and provide transparency about what this connector is truly meant to serve.

Because once the land is gone, once the homes are taken, and once the rural character is erased, there is no going back.