NDAs, concealed leases, hidden studies, foreign ownership, NYISO routing (New York Power Grid), 67-year land lock, and pressure on our townships. We stand for transparency, local control, and common sense. Period.
The Black Cherry Wind Project, backed by foreign-owned Swift Current Energy, operates under non-disclosure agreements, hiding critical details like lease terms and environmental studies from McKean County residents.
Questions also surround the land deals and financing tied to this project. Lyme Timber, one of the largest landholders in McKean County, obtained a PENNVEST loan — a program typically intended for sewer and stormwater projects benefiting municipalities — to purchase acreage that is now under lease for industrial wind development. This loan was approved during the Wolf administration.
According to OpenSecrets.org, Lyme Timber employees contributed $472,725 to Democratic candidates and committees in 2020, compared with just $5,000 to a Republican group. While political donations are legal, the imbalance and timing raise legitimate questions for taxpayers: why was a program designed to support community infrastructure instead used to finance corporate land deals, and how much political influence is at play when the vast majority of contributions go to one party?
In addition, Collins Pine property has been the site of a MET tower — an early step in wind development used to gather wind data ahead of turbine construction. These details show that both financing mechanisms and corporate landowners are quietly advancing this project, even as local communities remain in the dark.
For a detailed chronological breakdown of land deals, interconnection filings, political contributions, and community response, see our History Timeline.
Residents flagged attempts to “slide in” MET tower applications with minimal public notice. For a project that can affect low-level flight training in areas like the Duke MOA — where aircraft can operate very low AGL — that lack of daylight is unacceptable. We expect complete transparency regarding any airspace, radar, and safety implications.
Despite glossy marketing about “local benefits,” public filings show the Black Cherry Wind Project is designed to feed the New York Independent System Operator (NYISO) grid. NYISO manages the wholesale power market across New York State, buying electricity at competitive auction and sending it to where it’s needed. In plain English: power is sold to the highest bidder — and New York pays more for energy, especially under its aggressive “green energy” mandates. That’s why Swift Current Energy targeted McKean County: it’s close to New York, it has the Pierce Brook Substation, and it’s the perfect backdoor to ship power into New York’s grid while leaving locals behind.
NYSEG (New York State Electric & Gas) is one of the utilities that benefits from this system, serving hundreds of thousands of customers in Upstate New York. Meanwhile, not a single watt is promised to McKean County homes or businesses. We absorb the turbines, blasting, leases, noise, and environmental risk — while New York takes the electricity and investors take the profits.
Known queue filings (NYISO interconnection):
These filings prove the goal: plug into the Pierce Brook / Homer City 345kV corridor and export to New York. If this was really “for McKean County,” the interconnection would be to PJM (the Pennsylvania/Mid-Atlantic grid), not NYISO.
The bottom line: this project exists because New York politicians need to meet state “renewable” quotas, and because investors know New York pays higher rates for electricity. McKean County residents are left with long-term land leases (up to 67 years), risks to water and wildlife, and degraded ridgelines — all for crumbs like “community benefit” payments while the real money flows east and overseas.
Lease language can stack options and extensions approaching ~67 years, and can be assigned or sold to other entities. That’s multi-generation control of ridgelines while locals live with the consequences. If this is truly good for us, put every clause in daylight.
Swift Current Energy promotes itself with the image of delivering “American-made clean power,” but the reality behind its financial backing is far more complicated — and far less local. Originally, Buckeye Partners held a major ownership role. That arrangement has since ended. Buckeye has exited, leaving Swift Current Energy tied directly to IFM Investors, a global investment manager headquartered in Australia.
IFM Investors manages well over $150 billion in infrastructure worldwide, with stakes in pipelines, energy projects, toll roads, airports, and utilities spread across multiple continents. Their business model is simple: acquire long-term infrastructure assets that generate stable profits for overseas pension funds and investors. Projects like the Black Cherry Wind Project in McKean County are not designed to serve local families or businesses — they are structured to lock up land and resources for decades so that profits can be extracted and sent abroad.
In plain terms: McKean County bears the risks while foreign-managed capital reaps the rewards. The turbines, leases, noise, visual blight, and environmental risks remain here in Pennsylvania. The money flows overseas into IFM’s infrastructure portfolio. Local residents are left with the costs, uncertainties, and industrialization of their ridgelines — all while a multinational fund headquartered thousands of miles away markets this as “sustainable investment.”
This is why communities across the U.S. — from the Midwest to the Northeast — have raised alarms about foreign-backed ownership in energy projects. The Black Cherry Wind Project is not a community-driven initiative. It is a global finance operation with IFM Investors at the helm, leveraging tax credits and subsidies while leaving small rural townships like Hamlin, Keating, Liberty, Norwich, and Sergeant to deal with the fallout. When the marketing says “American-made power,” the ownership stack proves otherwise.
Deep foundations, blasting, and heavy construction can threaten wells and springs. Many draft terms do not guarantee potable water if a source is impacted — leaving families to pay for redrilling or searching for a new spring. That is unacceptable.
Decommissioning isn’t as rosy as advertised. In many places, foundations are removed only a few feet below grade, leaving massive concrete in the ground. We demand full-depth removal (or a genuine engineered equivalent), inflation-indexed bonding, and third-party cost review.
“Whoosh” / “thump,” tonal hums, and low-frequency noise that carry at night. Residents report lost sleep and daily fatigue.
Strobe-like blade flicker in mornings/evenings and constant red lights that change dark rural skies.
Ridge-top turbines dominate viewsheds and alter community character and property enjoyment.
Bird and bat kills. Curtailment reduces totals but doesn’t eliminate ongoing daily impacts.
Icing and mechanical failures create hazards for roads, trails, and work areas. Real setbacks are required.
Oversize loads, cranes, concrete trucks, and escorts beat up township roads and drive dust into homes.
Noise, lighting, and altered viewsheds turn buyers away and chill local real-estate markets.
Gates/closures block familiar woods roads, hunting spots, and recreation areas residents used for decades.
Equipment failures, leaks, and fires require specialized response often far from rural resources.
Ownership flips and thin bonds risk sticking towns with removal costs decades later.
Some neighbors report ear pressure, headaches, or nausea correlated with certain wind directions.
Signal reflection and obstruction create weak or inconsistent reception near turbine strings.
Cut/fill on ridgelines sends sediment into ditches, culverts, springs, and trout streams after heavy rains.
Crews, pickups, and service cranes show up regularly — noise and road wear don’t end after construction.
Night beacons and substation glow ruin stargazing and rural quiet that draw people here.
Construction seasons, blasting, and setbacks push deer and bear patterns and limit traditional use.
When rural townships try to adopt stronger rules on height, setbacks, or noise, large wind developers often push back. In McKean County, Bradford Era reports have documented Swift Current Energy urging supervisors to avoid “de facto exclusionary” ordinances and warning about possible litigation. Residents see these tactics as attempts to weaken local protections.
Developers have suggested townships could be sued if ordinances are “too strict” — language cited in public meetings and local news coverage.
Promises of “community benefit agreements” have surfaced during ordinance debates (source). Residents argue such offers should be published in full, not tied to votes.
Submitting MET tower applications separately from turbine applications has been noted in township records — making it harder for residents to see the full scope of the project at once.
Residents have requested full disclosure of lease terms, decommissioning bonds, and blasting studies before approvals. These calls have been echoed in public meeting minutes and letters to supervisors.
Bottom line: Townships have the legal right to set standards that protect health, safety, and property values. Developers are free to meet those standards — not rewrite them.
Industrial wind turbines are not silent. Depending on wind direction, humidity, and terrain, neighbors report a constant “whoosh/thump,” low-frequency hum, and tonal noises that carry — especially at night. Many people describe sleep disruption and daytime fatigue from the repetitive character of the sound. Put on headphones or turn your volume up to hear the full range.
Tip: Noise often travels farther downwind and during stable nighttime conditions. That’s when families report the worst sleep impacts.
Yes. Wind turbine fires are more common than developers admit. They can be caused by gearbox failures, overheated brakes, lightning strikes, or electrical malfunctions in the nacelle. Once ignited, turbine fires are nearly impossible for rural fire crews to extinguish due to their height — so the structure usually burns out completely.
In McKean County, a turbine fire could spread burning debris into forests, damaging timber, wildlife habitat, and nearby homes or camps. The oil-filled gearboxes and transformers also risk toxic runoff into streams and wells. These risks are real for rural volunteer fire companies with limited resources.
Once a turbine fire starts, there’s little local responders can do but secure the area and let it burn. The fallout — debris, contamination, and forest fire risk — is left to the community.
As of September 2025, President Trump reinstated the historic title “Department of War” (fka Department of Defense) for official use in executive communications. McKean County sits under the Duke Military Operations Area (MOA), where U.S. military aircraft train at altitudes as low as 100 feet above ground level (AGL). Yes, 100 feet. That’s tree-top level — and our ridgelines are part of those national defense corridors.
Dropping 650-foot industrial turbines into this environment isn’t just bad planning — it’s like parking a cell tower in the middle of a runway. The Department of War didn’t set up the Duke MOA so foreign-backed developers could test pilots’ reflexes dodging blades. Turbines interfere with radar, clutter horizons, and choke off low-level training — weakening readiness at home while sending profits abroad.
The takeaway? America needs fighter pilots sharp — not playing hide-and-seek with steel towers. Rural Pennsylvania should not be treated as disposable “flyover” space when it doubles as a training ground for the men and women who keep this country free.
Fact: The Duke MOA covers much of northern Pennsylvania. Low-level routes are registered for 100’ AGL operations. Add 600-650 ft turbines, and you don’t just have skyline clutter — you have a safety and national security liability.
Modern turbines have control systems that feather blades and apply brakes when winds spike, and most onshore units automatically shut down around the mid-50 mph range to prevent damage. They’re designed to withstand extreme gusts, but real storms still bring risks: lightning strikes, hail and rain erosion, and ice accretion that can throw chunks off blades. The clips below show how violent weather plays out in the real world — and why rural, forested places like McKean County should take storm risk seriously.
Bottom line: the control systems are good — but storms in our hills still mean higher maintenance, real safety risks, and more downtime than the sales brochures admit.
No. Public filings show the project is built to connect into the New York ISO (NYISO) power grid. That means electricity will be sold in New York, not guaranteed to homes here. McKean County absorbs the turbines, blasting, and road use — while the power and profits flow out of state.
Swift Current Energy has even bragged about this model before. On their Mineral Basin Solar project website, they highlight that the solar facility is designed specifically to power New York — not Pennsylvania. That project, like Black Cherry Wind, sits in Pennsylvania but filed an identical NYISO interconnection request. The pattern is clear: build here, export there, and leave rural communities holding the bag.
Oppose the Black Cherry Wind Project. Call out the foreign-backed ownership, New York market benefit, long leases, and risks to residents, wildlife, water, and our ridgelines. Enter your name, pick a recipient, copy, and send.
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Sign the PetitionWe promote transparency — not accusation. If any item is shown to be inaccurate via credible public records or filings, we will promptly update it. Our goal is informed public debate, lawful local control, and full disclosure.
