They say the walls are too old. The layout too outdated. Two stories no longer work. So now Houston County DHR wants a new building, a bigger, shinier one story fortress to house their power. But this is not about bricks, glass, or parking lots. This is about expansion. Expansion of a system already known for shattering families, silencing truth, and leaving children worse off than when they were taken.

And where do they want to build it? On land that once carried the laughter of children at county fairs, the warmth of neighbors gathering, the memory of family itself. Farm Center soil. Community soil. They want to take that sacred ground and stamp it with the seal of an agency accused of tearing families apart.

This is how the plan unfolds. The county transfers the land. The city approves it. The Public Building Authority signs the lease. The state borrows the millions. Quiet signatures. Hushed approvals. Suddenly DHR has a fortress with fresh paint and no accountability.

Houston County Chairman Brandon Shoupe says this expansion is for the families of the community, that a new space will somehow help. But we beg to differ. Sitting in our inbox are story after story, proof after proof, from families whose lives have been destroyed by this very system. Parents hold records of falsified claims. Mothers and fathers describe children ripped from the fabric of their homes. Testimonies reveal a machine more skilled at manufacturing cases than protecting children.

Parents are completing the services assigned to them, only to find the goalposts moved farther and farther away until their rights are terminated. Houston County DHR is swarming through the community, denying fathers their God-given right to raise their children. They are tearing families apart after unruly teenagers are disciplined, twisting legal discipline into abuse, and abuse into grounds for removal. They are manufacturing narratives to destroy parents and families, picking targets at will and turning a blind eye when it serves their agenda.

These are not isolated claims or vague complaints. They are lived realities for families in Houston County, each one carrying scars that prove the pattern.

In addition to the life of this 16-year-old being forever changed on their watch, children have slept on the floors of that very building. Parents have been threatened that if they refuse to sign paperwork, even without a lawyer, without notice, and without due process, their children will be left to sleep there too. Families are pressured. Rights are trampled. Cases are rushed into courtrooms where Houston County judges turn blind eyes to legal documents that have no real backing, while the local police department stands ready at a moment’s notice to intimidate citizens into walking the path of DHR or face being placed in handcuffs.

And now they want a fresh start, a fresh building, and new grounds to carry on the same path of destruction. We know the targeting of families will only amplify, all to justify the erection of this new building if it happens. They dare to call it progress. But you cannot erase traumatic history with drywall. You cannot cover the cries of children with tile and glass. You cannot pave over injustice simply because you have repackaged it.

No building will ever be big enough to hold the weight of the pain they have caused. No structure will ever wash away the truth of what has happened inside those walls.

This is not just construction. It is a monument to everything they refuse to admit. They are hoping to rebuild this machine stronger, taller, and more polished. This building will shelter the same tactics, the same truth, and the same destruction.

Only now, they want a bigger building to do it in. And just as they prepare to rebuild, we prepare to continue raising awareness of the trauma that happens in the name of child safety.