A Texas woman is fighting to preserve land that was supposed to become a public park. Now it may be a data center instead

For years, Pamela Griffin cherished a promise from a stranger that the expansive plot of land just steps from her home in Taylor, Texas, would one day become the park she and other kids in her neighborhood always wanted.

But as the land changed hands, a 14-word sentence in a 1999 deed was not carried forward, putting the property about 25 miles outside of Austin on track to become something much different: a data center.

Like other communities confronting the prospect of a data center for the first time, many residents in this town of roughly 18,000 people are concerned about noise , water use, and power shortages.

In the months since Griffin learned about the data center plans, what was supposed to be a season of slowing down in retirement has become one of organizing, attending community meetings, and speaking at public events as she wages a legal battle to protect her neighborhood, particularly the fruits of her family’s labor.

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The dispute, the 58-year-old retired learning center director says, is rooted in competing interpretations of a sentence in a deed intended to ensure the land’s future as a park and in the history of who has, and has not, benefited from land ownership in the Lone Star State.

“My daddy passed this land down to us and he told us to guard this land,” she said. “He said this will always be a homestead.”

Now, a Texas appeals court is considering Griffin’s complaint, which is attempting to stop the data center project from moving forward, all while Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton has launched an investigation into whether the original language on the property’s use was legally changed or removed and if it still carries legal weight today.

Joel Angel Juarez for CNN

During the 1950s and early 1960s, Griffin’s grandmother juggled working as a maid with chopping and picking cotton in Taylor, which was once known as a hub for cotton farming and for its cattle ranches.

As a Black mother, she seized an opportunity to buy real estate on the south side of Taylor after the passing of the Fair Housing Act, which made it illegal to discriminate during the sale, rental or financing of housing based on race, skin color, religion or nationality, and bought parcels for her eight children, hoping they would have a home for generations to come.

Griffin, who had moved away after graduating high school, lives in the home her father built, where he raised six children – and where every corner seems occupied by something meaningful, all tucked away in its own space: framed photos, trinkets, and mementos.

Illustration by Alberto Mier/CNN

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As a girl growing up in the 1970s, Griffin recalls how her parents and other neighbors in the two-street patch of homes did not let their children play at the nearby Fannie Robinson Park after some of them started developing rashes or getting sick.

The park, which was once a city dump , became the town’s first park serving Black residents in 1955 after a Black physician negotiated with city and school officials to dedicate recreational space for children of color.

With limited places to play, an empty lot behind Griffin’s home bought by her father became an informal playground for her and other neighbors to enjoy.

It’s where they would chase baseballs or camp using cardboard boxes and bed sheets to stargaze under the deep, bright Texas stars, turning a mundane day into one filled with adventure and curiosity.

The lot bordered 87 acres owned by the descendants of Howard Bland, Sr., a prominent Taylor community leader, businessman and state lawmaker in the late 19th century. Because the children often walked into the land to retrieve stray baseballs, Griffin said, the Bland family recognized the need for a public park, telling her dad about their desire someday to turn the property into just that.

“The Blands understood the community in a way others did not and “was willing to help when nobody else was not,” Griffin said.

After both her parents passed away, Griffin returned to Taylor in 2019 feeling an innate responsibility to preserve her family’s legacy and the neighborhood that truly felt like home. Unbeknownst to Griffin, she would have to unravel what happened to the promise she had heard about for years and dedicate her retirement to fight for the future of the neighborhood.

When Griffin found a flyer on her front door last year, she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Three 45,000 SF data centers coming to your backyard,” the flyer read, along with a map and details about public hearings for Taylor residents.

She didn’t even know what a data center was, she said. Today, it’s practically all she can think about and sees as she drives around town, spotting yard signs outside homes and posters in storefront windows.

The flyer helped her learn that plans for a data center spanning 135,000 square feet by Blueprint Data Centers – less than half a mile away from her home – had been approved. It is now one of more than 2,000 data centers in planning stages across the United States, according to the tracking firm Cleanview .

The data center would further thrust Taylor into the massive tech and infrastructure boom in Central Texas. With its addition on the city’s south side, Taylor would be sandwiched between two developments powering major components of AI: chip making and data centers. On the city’s north side, there’s already a Samsung semiconductor fabrication plant , where computer chips are manufactured.

And plans for a third facility, a separate 665-acre data center called “ Project Mustang, ” is sparking more concerns about growth and development, particularly as it will sit outside city limits where Taylor officials don’t have the authority to stop or regulate it. The project developer had sought to annex the property to the city but withdrew its application earlier this month.

So how did the vast, serene plot of land near Griffin’s home that was promised to be a future park land suddenly become the future site of a hub for cloud collection and artificial intelligence?

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In 1999, the Bland family sold the 87 acres next to Griffin’s neighborhood to the Texas Parks and Recreation Foundation for $10. The deed had a line in the grantee’s section saying the land was “to be held in trust for future use as a parkland by Williamson County.”

By 2003, the acreage was sold to a Williamson County-based parks nonprofit for $10, and sold for another $10 to the City of Taylor about seven weeks later.

After being under city ownership for a few years, the property was sold in 2009 to the city’s economic development arm, the Taylor Economic Development Corporation , in exchange for $15,000 and 39 acres, which include the 16-acre tract meant to “act as buffer between the proposed data center and the nearest neighborhood,” according to the city.

In 2025, the remaining acreage was sold to Blueprint Data Centers’ parent company for $10 million, city officials said.

The language stating the Blands’ intended use of the property is in the 1999 deed but it’s absent from all subsequent exchanges. It’s unclear why it was not included.

The City of Taylor was “unaware” of the Blands’ wishes when it acquired the land in 2003, a city spokesperson told CNN.

The Blands intended for the property to become a park, the spokesperson said, but “no legally enforceable deed restriction was placed on the property. Because there was no deed restriction, his (land donor) wishes did not transfer with the deed.”

Blueprint Data Centers, its parent company NCP Travis BPP Project LLC, and the Texas Parks and Recreation did not respond to multiple requests for comment about the project and the sales they were part of.

CNN has attempted to reach a representative for the Williamson County parks nonprofit that sold the property to the city of Taylor, as well as the two surviving members of the Bland family listed in the 1999 deed.

Determined to challenge the data center project, Griffin started doing her own research on the land and was surprised when she learned the family’s good faith gesture wasn’t just lore, it was in writing.

She and her siblings filed a lawsuit last year against NCP Travis TPP Project, LLC to permanently stop construction of the planned data center, arguing the property should remain park land under the original deed, the suit says. For them, it wasn’t about money, she said, their legal fight is about having the ability to live and thrive within the community they helped build.

“My family was willing to stand up for this community and help this community because that’s what we’re supposed to do as neighbors,” Griffin said. “We all neighbors. We supposed to take care of each other.”

A Williamson County judge dismissed their case in October 2025, saying the siblings don’t have the legal right to bring a lawsuit because they don’t own the land and have no direct financial stake in it.

Attorney Chris Osborn, who is representing the siblings, said the case was dismissed before it ever answered the bigger question of what the land was supposed to become. He said if the appeal is denied, the Bland family could potentially bring their own challenge because of their direct tie to the land.

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Paxton, the state’s attorney general, announced last week his office was launching an investigation into whether the 1999 deed was lawfully modified.

“I will not allow any person or entity to disregard the rule of law or obligations owed to the public,” Paxton said in a statement. “If the Taylor data center development is unlawful, I will do everything in my power to stop it and hold those who have violated the law accountable.”

In a statement to CNN, the City of Taylor acknowledged Paxton’s investigation and said it will cooperate with the investigation but declined to comment further about the ongoing litigation.

Many Taylor residents are concerned the Blueprint Data Centers’ facility could bring a myriad of issues to the area, including light pollution, air emissions from backup generators, heavy water and electricity use, and fire risks.

In response to their concerns, city officials have said the proposed data center would use a closed-loop cooling system with minimal water demand, comply with local ordinances and include environmental and safety measures to combat some of those concerns.

Over the next 10 years, the project is estimated to generate millions of dollars in revenue, which the city says could be used to reduce property taxes, improve schools, and increase teacher salaries, among other things.

But residents like Griffin said other developments should have been prioritized, including a grocery store or a gas station, which are not easily accessible in the area.

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People living near AI data centers have reported hearing a persistent humming sound coming from the building around the clock, and that’s also a major concern for Griffin. Her disabled son, who lives in nearby Round Rock, often visits to escape the bustling traffic, chain stores and rapid growth that have quickly defined many of the outskirts of Austin.

“He can walk the land … and be comfortable and it helps his disability, but once they build that thing (data center) and that noise, he can’t deal with noise,” Griffin said.

Carrie D’Anna, who also lives on the south side of Taylor and was the community member who made and delivered the flyer to Griffin’s door, said some residents have considered moving elsewhere, but not everyone has the financial means to do so. She and Griffin also doubt anyone would want to live in such proximity to a large industrial-scale development.

“Nobody has come and knocked on the door and said: ‘Hey, can we pay you to move?’ That’s not happening. Instead, we’re trapping people in poverty (against their) will,” D’Anna said.

Jerrod Kingery, a city spokesperson, said authorities are considering regulations that would restrict the construction of data centers in industrially zoned areas, require more separation between projects and establish standards in addressing water use, emissions, noise and setbacks.

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For now, Griffin’s father’s dream of having more of her siblings living on the land their grandmother acquired is in jeopardy. Griffin’s sister is now refusing to build a home on the family lot that remains vacant, given its backyard would literally be a hop, skip and jump from the data center, Griffin said.

After spending their lives building a home, raising a family, acquiring land and creating wealth opportunities for their children, Griffin said her family probably never imagined future generations would have to keep fighting to protect what was left for them.

“My parents thought we was set,” Griffin said.

But Griffin says it’s all worth fighting for because some promises are meant to live beyond those who make them.

多年来，帕梅拉·格里芬一直珍藏着一个陌生人的承诺：在她位于德克萨斯州泰勒市的家附近，有一片广阔的土地，有一天会变成她和邻里其他孩子一直渴望的公园。

但随着土地所有权的变更，1999 年的一份契约中的一句 14 个字的句子没有被保留下来，使得这处位于奥斯汀郊外约 25 英里的房产走上了截然不同的道路：变成了一个数据中心。

与其他首次面临数据中心建设的社区一样，这个拥有约 18,000 人口的小镇上的许多居民都担心噪音、用水和电力短缺。

自从格里芬得知数据中心计划以来，原本应该放慢退休节奏的几个月里，她忙于组织活动、参加社区会议、在公共活动中发表演讲，为保护她的社区，特别是她家人辛勤劳动的成果，打了一场法律仗。

两党对数据中心的罕见反感，搅动了中期选举格局。

这位 58 岁的退休学习中心主任表示，这场争端源于对一份旨在确保这片土地未来成为公园的契约中某句话的不同解读，以及在孤星之州（德克萨斯州）历史上谁从土地所有权中受益、谁没有受益的历史。

“我父亲把这块地传给了我们，并嘱咐我们要守护好它，”她说。“他说这里将永远是我们的家园。”

现在，德克萨斯州上诉法院正在审理格里芬的投诉，该投诉试图阻止数据中心项目继续推进。与此同时，德克萨斯州总检察长肯·帕克斯顿已展开调查，以确定该房产用途的原始措辞是否已被合法更改或删除，以及该措辞在今天是否仍然具有法律效力。

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20 世纪 50 年代和 60 年代初，格里芬的祖母在泰勒镇一边做女佣，一边砍棉花、摘棉花。泰勒镇曾经是棉花种植和养牛的中心。

作为一名黑人母亲，在《公平住房法》通过后，她抓住机会在泰勒市南区购买了房产。该法案规定，在住房的出售、出租或融资过程中，基于种族、肤色、宗教或国籍进行歧视属于违法行为。她为自己的八个孩子购买了地块，希望他们世世代代都能拥有自己的家。

格里芬高中毕业后就搬走了，现在住在她父亲建造的房子里，她父亲在这里养育了六个孩子——房子的每个角落似乎都摆放着有意义的东西，每一样都藏在自己的空间里：相框、小饰品和纪念品。

插图：Alberto Mier/CNN

CNN民调显示，大多数美国人对人工智能表示“恐惧和担忧”，认为政府应该加强监管。

格里芬回忆说，在 20 世纪 70 年代，她还是个小女孩的时候，她的父母和住在两条街上的其他邻居都不让孩子们去附近的范妮·罗宾逊公园玩耍，因为有些孩子开始出现皮疹或生病。

该公园曾是城市垃圾场，1955 年，一位黑人医生与市政府和学校官员协商，为有色人种儿童开辟了休闲场所，该公园也因此成为该镇第一个服务于黑人居民的公园。

由于玩耍的地方有限，格里芬父亲买下的她家后面的一块空地成了她和其他邻居的非正式游乐场。

在那里，他们会追逐棒球，或者用纸箱和床单搭起帐篷，在德克萨斯州深邃明亮的星空下观星，将平凡的一天变成充满冒险和好奇心的一天。

这块地毗邻霍华德·布兰德（Howard Bland, Sr.）的后代拥有的87英亩土地。霍华德·布兰德是19世纪末泰勒市一位杰出的社区领袖、商人兼州议员。格里芬说，由于孩子们经常到这片土地上捡拾散落的棒球，布兰德家族意识到需要一个公共公园，并告诉她的父亲，他们希望有朝一日能将这片土地改造成公园。

格里芬说：“布兰德一家对社区的了解程度远超其他人，而且在其他人都不愿意帮助的时候，他们愿意伸出援手。”

父母双亡后，格里芬于2019年回到泰勒，她感到自己肩负着守护家族传承和这片真正让她感到像家一样的街区的重任。然而，格里芬当时并不知道，她将不得不揭开多年来一直听闻的承诺究竟发生了什么，并将自己的退休生活奉献给守护这片街区的未来。

去年，格里芬在她家前门上发现了一张传单，她不知道该如何看待这件事。

传单上写着：“三个 45,000 平方英尺的数据中心即将落户您家附近”，并附有地图和有关泰勒居民公开听证会的详细信息。

她说，她以前甚至不知道数据中心是什么。而现在，她几乎满脑子都是数据中心，开车在城里转悠时，到处都能看到数据中心的身影，家家户户门前的草坪上都竖着数据中心的标牌，商店橱窗里也贴着数据中心的海报。

这份传单让她了解到，Blueprint Data Centers公司计划在她家附近不到半英里的地方建造一座占地13.5万平方英尺的数据中心，该计划已经获得批准。据追踪公司Cleanview的数据显示，目前全美有超过2000个数据中心正在规划建设中，而这座数据中心就是其中之一。

该数据中心将进一步推动泰勒市融入德克萨斯州中部蓬勃发展的科技和基础设施建设浪潮中。随着数据中心落户泰勒市南侧，这座城市将被两大人工智能关键组成部分——芯片制造和数据中心——所环绕。在泰勒市北侧，三星半导体制造厂已经存在，该厂生产计算机芯片。

第三个设施的建设计划——一个名为“野马项目”（Project Mustang）的独立数据中心，占地665英亩——引发了人们对城市发展和扩张的更多担忧，尤其因为该项目位于泰勒市郊，泰勒市官员无权阻止或监管。项目开发商曾试图将该地块并入泰勒市，但已于本月初撤回了申请。

那么，格里芬家附近那片广阔宁静的土地，原本计划建成未来的公园用地，是如何突然变成云收集和人工智能中心的未来所在地的呢？

Jovelle Tamayo/《纽约时报》/Redux

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1999 年，布兰德家族以 10 美元的价格将格里芬家附近 87 英亩的土地卖给了德克萨斯州公园和娱乐基金会。地契的受让人部分有一行字写着，这块土地“将由威廉姆森县信托持有，供将来用作公园用地”。

到 2003 年，这片土地以 10 美元的价格卖给了威廉姆森县的一个公园非营利组织，大约七周后，又以 10 美元的价格卖给了泰勒市。

该房产在市政府所有几年后，于 2009 年以 15,000 美元和 39 英亩土地的价格出售给了市政府的经济发展部门泰勒经济发展公司，其中包括 16 英亩土地，据市政府称，这块土地旨在“作为拟建数据中心和附近居民区之间的缓冲区”。

市政府官员表示，2025 年，剩余的土地以 1000 万美元的价格出售给了 Blueprint Data Centers 的母公司。

布兰德夫妇对该房产的预期用途的明确规定出现在1999年的地契中，但在之后的所有产权交换文件中均未出现。目前尚不清楚为何该规定被删除。

泰勒市发言人告诉 CNN，泰勒市在 2003 年收购这块土地时“并不了解”布兰德家族的意愿。

发言人表示，布兰德夫妇原本打算将这块地建成公园，但“地契上没有设置任何具有法律效力的限制条款。由于没有这些限制条款，土地捐赠者的意愿并没有随着地契的变更而转移。”

Blueprint Data Centers、其母公司 NCP Travis BPP Project LLC 以及德克萨斯州公园和娱乐部门均未回应关于该项目及其参与的销售的多次置评请求。

CNN 试图联系威廉姆森县公园非营利组织的代表，该组织将该房产出售给了泰勒市，以及 1999 年契约中列出的布兰德家族的两名幸存成员。

格里芬决心挑战数据中心项目，于是开始对这块土地进行调查，当她发现这个家庭的善意举动不仅仅是传说，而是有书面记录时，她感到非常惊讶。

去年，她和兄弟姐妹对NCP Travis TPP Project, LLC提起诉讼，要求永久停止拟建数据中心的建设。诉讼称，他们认为根据原地契，这块地应该继续作为公园用地。她说，对他们而言，这无关金钱，他们的诉讼是为了能够在他们参与建设的社区中生活和发展。

格里芬说：“我的家人愿意挺身而出，帮助这个社区，因为这是我们作为邻居应该做的。我们都是邻居，我们应该互相照顾。”

2025 年 10 月，威廉姆森县的一名法官驳回了他们的诉讼，称这对兄妹没有提起诉讼的法律权利，因为他们不拥有土地，也没有直接的经济利益。

代表这对兄妹的律师克里斯·奥斯本表示，此案在尚未解答土地用途这一更根本问题之前就被驳回了。他指出，如果上诉被驳回，布兰德家族可能会因为与土地的直接联系而提起诉讼。

格雷姆·斯隆/彭博社/盖蒂图片社

人人都讨厌数据中心，律师们却对它们情有独钟。

上周，该州总检察长帕克斯顿宣布，他的办公室将对 1999 年的契约是否合法修改展开调查。

帕克斯顿在一份声明中表示：“我绝不允许任何个人或实体无视法治或对公众应尽的义务。如果泰勒数据中心的开发项目违法，我将竭尽全力阻止它，并将违法者绳之以法。”

泰勒市在给 CNN 的一份声明中承认了帕克斯顿的调查，并表示将配合调查，但拒绝就正在进行的诉讼发表进一步评论。

许多泰勒居民担心 Blueprint 数据中心的设施可能会给该地区带来诸多问题，包括光污染、备用发电机的空气排放、大量用水用电以及火灾风险。

针对市民的担忧，市政府官员表示，拟建的数据中心将采用闭环冷却系统，用水量极少，符合当地法规，并采取环境和安全措施来消除其中一些担忧。

预计该项目将在未来 10 年内产生数百万美元的收入，市政府表示，这些收入可用于降低房产税、改善学校、提高教师工资等。

但像格里芬这样的居民表示，应该优先考虑其他发展项目，例如杂货店或加油站，因为这些设施在该地区并不容易获得。

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住在人工智能数据中心附近的居民反映，他们经常听到大楼里传来持续不断的嗡嗡声，这让格里芬非常担忧。她住在附近朗德罗克的残疾儿子经常来看望她，以躲避奥斯汀郊区拥挤的交通、连锁商店和快速发展带来的种种问题。

“他可以在这片土地上行走……感觉很舒服，这对他的残疾很有​​帮助，但是一旦他们建起那个东西（数据中心）和那种噪音，他就受不了噪音了，”格里芬说。

住在泰勒南区的凯莉·丹娜（Carrie D'Anna）也是制作并把传单送到格里芬家门口的社区居民。她说，一些居民考虑过搬到别处，但并非所有人都有足够的经济能力这样做。她和格里芬都怀疑是否有人愿意住在离大型工业开发区这么近的地方。

“没有人来敲门说：‘嘿，我们可以付钱请你搬家吗？’这种事根本没有发生。相反，我们却违背人们的意愿，让他们深陷贫困之中，”迪安娜说道。

城市发言人杰罗德·金格里表示，当局正在考虑制定相关法规，限制在工业区建设数据中心，要求项目之间保持更大的距离，并制定用水、排放、噪音和退让方面的标准。

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我理解你的痛苦，但“让数据主宰一切”却截然不同：特朗普和他的副总统在数据中心问题上步调不一致

目前，格里芬父亲希望更多兄弟姐妹能住在祖母购置的土地上的梦想岌岌可危。格里芬说，鉴于房屋后院距离数据中心只有几步之遥，她的姐姐现在拒绝在家族空置的土地上建房。

格里芬说，她的家人一生都在建造家园、养育子女、购置土地，为子女创造财富机会，他们可能从未想过子孙后代还要继续为保护留给他们的东西而奋斗。

格里芬说：“我父母以为我们已经万事俱备了。”

但格里芬表示，这一切都值得为之奋斗，因为有些承诺注定会超越做出承诺的人而存在。