Texas Public Policy Foundation

Sulphur Springs, TX — Katie Koon says she didn’t stand a chance. Her mother often joked, “I just pray you don't marry a dairy farmer,” repeating advice she had received from her own mother.

Instead, Katie did exactly that.

After moving to Hopkins County, she married into a dairy farming family and spent years working in an industry that was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain.

“When the milk check didn't pay for the feed, we knew we were in trouble,” Katie said.

As dairy prices stagnated and maintenance costs rose, the family faced a difficult decision. Rather than leave agriculture altogether, Katie and her family shifted toward beef production after partnering with relatives who proposed building a meat-processing facility.

The transition required selling dairy equipment, purchasing land, and building a cattle herd from scratch. But even with roughly 400 head of cattle, profitability remained elusive.

“Everyone I know that's in agriculture has another job,” Katie said. “We actually put in our own money every year, year after year, to keep our family farm.”

Nearly 20 years ago, Katie traveled from Oklahoma to visit her sister in Sulphur Springs. As they drove through the ranchlands of Northeast Texas, her brother-in-law staged a scene straight out of a Western movie. A herd of cattle lined the farm-to-market road, while he and his friends roped the animals on horseback.

For Katie, who grew up in a family of dairy farmers, the moment felt both familiar and newly exciting.

“I said, ‘I love this. This is the place for me,’” Katie recalled.

Katie’s story reflects a broader challenge facing family farms and ranches across Texas.

For generations, small agricultural operations provided food, jobs and economic stability for rural Texas communities. Today, many ranchers say that the market is becoming increasingly difficult to sustain. Agricultural census data show a gradual decline in family-owned farms, while barriers to entry continue to rise for new producers.

Each year, thousands of family-owned farms face closure; the revenue they receive is simply not competitive. As traditional pathways become less profitable, many ranchers are searching for alternative business models to remain competitive.

And that’s where Katie comes in, with Rail 19—a processing plant and retailer for not only Katie’s own cattle, but for her neighbors, as well.

The direct-to-consumer model allows local ranchers to sell cattle for processing, and lets consumers purchase meat directly from the source.

Katie said building a processing facility required years of permits, inspections and compliance reviews. She even has a full-time USDA inspector at her facility—at her expense.

“I love Texas, but it may not be as free as you think it is when you decide to build a meat plant,” she said.

The approval process took nearly three years before construction could proceed, followed by additional food safety requirements. By the time the facility was operational, the family had exhausted most of its financial resources.

For ranchers like Katie, the goal is not to replace large-scale agriculture—but to create room for local producers to survive alongside it.

“There's got to be a balance,” Katie contends.

Whether that balance can be achieved may determine the future of family ranching in Texas.