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The Changing Face of Route 10: Jack’s Farm Sparks Fierce Local Debate

THE CHESHIRE PHOENIX NEWS

By: Richard Reggie Smith

Creative Commons

July 8, 2026


The concrete has been poured, the framing is rising, and the 5+ acre site once covered in quiet woods is officially becoming "Jack’s Farm." The project, which was passed unanimously by the Cheshire Planning and Zoning Commission back on January 9, 2023, is a collaborative effort between the Cheshire Housing Authority (CHA) and Neighborworks New Horizons.
"Jack’s Farm."

CHESHIRE — Drive down the south end of Route 10 these days, past the VCA Veterinary Hospital, and you’ll see the unmistakable signs of a town in transition. The concrete has been poured, the framing is rising, and the 5+ acre site once covered in quiet woods is officially becoming "Jack’s Farm."


The project, which was passed unanimously by the Cheshire Planning and Zoning Commission back on January 9, 2023, is a collaborative effort between the Cheshire Housing Authority (CHA) and Neighborworks New Horizons. Working alongside QA&M Architects and the LeRosa Building Group, the developers designed a 64,000-square-foot residential complex. The plan features three "farmhouses" and one larger "barn-style" building, totaling 45 units ranging from studios to three-bedroom apartments, alongside a 1,200-square-foot community room and administrative space. Backed by nearly $20.9 million in funding from the Connecticut Department of Housing (DOH), all 45 units are designated as affordable housing, reserved for renters earning at or below 80% of the Area Median Income (AMI).


Yet, as the physical reality of the project catches up to the 2023 blueprints, the visual impact has triggered an avalanche of local concern. For many long-time residents, the distance between digital renderings and poured concrete feels vast.


Renderings vs. Reality


"My husband and I drove by Jack’s Farm on our way home today," noted one local resident. "The

"The picture from the computer is very deceiving. From this picture, it looks far off of Route 10; in fact, it is very close to Route 10 where the foundation is poured—maybe 10 feet. We really feel sad for our once beautiful town."
Cheshire sits at just 3.82%, with 397 qualifying affordable units out of 10,401 total housing units.

picture from the computer is very deceiving. From this picture, it looks far off of Route 10; in fact, it is very close to Route 10 where the foundation is poured—maybe 10 feet. We really feel sad for our once beautiful town."


Another neighbor echoed the sentiment, asking why renderings and blueprints are never the same, and questioning who approved the final blueprints from the town.


The aesthetic shift is jarring for neighbors who expected a significant buffer from the main thoroughfare. One resident noted that while they aren't opposed to the project itself, the lack of setback is concerning. "I thought from the original plans it was going to be screened from the road. It looks almost like those foundations are closer to the road than most houses there. And with the height of those buildings, they will loom over the road."


For others, the loss of greenery hurts on a deeply personal level. One parent shared a poignant moment with their family: "Imagine how I felt when my then 9-year-old looked at me and said, 'Dad, those woods were my favorite part of going to school in the morning. She liked to stare into them trying to find animals.'" Critics also pointed out the irony of the design, calling it a shame to get rid of the real farms in town just to build modern, simulated farmhouses.


While disgruntled residents point fingers at current town officials, invoking a longing for the stricter local control of the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, the legal reality governing modern Connecticut development tells a different story. Local Planning and Zoning commissions often find their hands tied by state mandate—specifically, Connecticut General Statute Section 8-30g.

The Shadow of 8-30g

While disgruntled residents point fingers at current town officials, invoking a longing for the stricter local control of the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, the legal reality governing modern Connecticut development tells a different story. Local Planning and Zoning commissions often find their hands tied by state mandate—specifically, Connecticut General Statute Section 8-30g.

Under 8-30g, until a town can prove that 10% of its total housing stock is officially designated as affordable housing, developers can circumvent the vast majority of local zoning regulations.

According to the state’s 2025 Affordable Housing Appeals List, Cheshire sits at just 3.82%, with 397 qualifying affordable units out of 10,401 total housing units. Simply having "cheaper" condos or smaller homes does not count toward this threshold. To count toward the town’s 10% requirement, a unit must qualify under the state’s strict affordable-housing rules, usually through deed restrictions, subsidies, CHFA financing, or rental assistance. Because Cheshire is well below the 10% mark, the town has very little legal ground to reject mixed-income projects without facing costly, nearly unwinnable lawsuits.


A Welcomed Addition for Many

Despite the aesthetic complaints, a vocal segment of the community insists that Jack’s Farm is exactly what Cheshire needs. Proponents argue that the "small-town charm" shouldn't come at the expense of the people who keep the community running. "Affordable housing is absolutely needed in Cheshire," argued a resident whose family has lived in town since the 1950s. "There are many people who work in our town but cannot afford to live here. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful addition to our town. Don't understand why saying affordable housing makes people cringe; it's ridiculous. Cheshire has other affordable housing that is lovely, and this will be too!"
"Affordable housing is absolutely needed in Cheshire,"

Despite the aesthetic complaints, a vocal segment of the community insists that Jack’s Farm is exactly what Cheshire needs. Proponents argue that the "small-town charm" shouldn't come at the expense of the people who keep the community running.

"Affordable housing is absolutely needed in Cheshire," argued a resident whose family has lived in town since the 1950s. "There are many people who work in our town but cannot afford to live here. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful addition to our town. Don't understand why saying affordable housing makes people cringe; it's ridiculous. Cheshire has other affordable housing that is lovely, and this will be too!"

The apartments are aimed at helping young individuals starting out, families, and elderly residents looking to downsize but remain in the community they love.


Editorial: The Cost of Growth and the Price of Exclusion

Having watched Cheshire evolve for over sixty years, it is easy to sympathize with the bittersweet nostalgia gripping our neighborhoods. We remember the sprawling orchards, the unobstructed views down Route 10, and a time when traffic jams only happened when a tractor moved too slowly down the road. It is entirely fair for residents to feel a pang of grief when a beloved stretch of woods is replaced by heavy machinery and concrete.But we must also look at the ledger of our town's future.If we wrap Cheshire in amber to preserve a snapshot of the past, we risk turning our community into an exclusive enclave accessible only to the wealthy. The young people who grow up in our schools shouldn't be priced out the moment they graduate. The senior citizens who built our civic institutions shouldn't be forced to move to surrounding towns when they can no longer maintain a four-bedroom colonial. And the workers who teach our children, staff our businesses, and protect our streets deserve a chance to lay their heads to rest within the borders of the town they serve.State law 8-30g is a blunt instrument, to be sure. It strips away local control and often forces developments that feel out of scale or poorly integrated into our classic New England aesthetic. The tight setback of Jack’s Farm is a symptom of a system where developers hold the leverage.However, the only way to regain our local control is to actively participate in the solution. Complaining about the loss of rural character while fighting every single multi-family housing proposal is a losing strategy that keeps us stuck at 3.8% compliance, leaving us vulnerable to even larger, less sympathetic projects. Jack’s Farm may sit closer to Route 10 than we envisioned, and its "farmhouse" style may be a modern interpretation, but it represents an essential step forward. Let us welcome our new neighbors with open arms, even as we continue to push our town leaders for transparent planning that respects both our historic past and our undeniable future.


Having watched Cheshire evolve for over sixty years, it is easy to sympathize with the bittersweet nostalgia gripping our neighborhoods. We remember the sprawling orchards, the unobstructed views down Route 10, and a time when traffic jams only happened when a tractor moved too slowly down the road. It is entirely fair for residents to feel a pang of grief when a beloved stretch of woods is replaced by heavy machinery and concrete.But we must also look at the ledger of our town's future.If we wrap Cheshire in amber to preserve a snapshot of the past, we risk turning our community into an exclusive enclave accessible only to the wealthy. The young people who grow up in our schools shouldn't be priced out the moment they graduate. The senior citizens who built our civic institutions shouldn't be forced to move to surrounding towns when they can no longer maintain a four-bedroom colonial. And the workers who teach our children, staff our businesses, and protect our streets deserve a chance to lay their heads to rest within the borders of the town they serve.
Jack’s Farm may sit closer to Route 10 than we envisioned, and its "farmhouse" style may be a modern interpretation, but it represents an essential step forward.


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