Rhode

“Make one solid case, one solid point for why this should go through.” — Jeanne Crumly

PAGE, Neb. — The fight seemed over. Plans to bury an oil pipeline in the Nebraska dirt, through hilly grazing land near the Elkhorn River and flat expanses of corn farther south, had been halted. Farmers and ranchers who spent years opposing the project moved on with their lives.

But suddenly the pipeline from Canada to Nebraska, known as Keystone XL , is back on the table. As President Trump promised on the campaign trail, he has cleared the way for the project, which his predecessor had blocked .

Republican politicians, many union members and some landowners are cheering the pipeline as a way to create jobs and bring more North American oil to market.

But in spots along the proposed route through Nebraska , including here on the sandy soil of the Crumly family farm, the president’s decision is being met with frustration and resolve to resume the fight.

Jeanne Crumly, who sees Keystone XL as a dire threat to this land, believes Mr. Trump is supporting it without “really giving a hoot of how there are people and livelihoods at stake here.”

“It was going to be where he flexed his muscle,” she said.

State-level permits and easements along the three-state pipeline route are in place in Montana and South Dakota. That leaves Nebraska — where voters overwhelmingly favored Mr. Trump, but where a coalition delayed the pipeline for years during President Barack Obama’s administration — as the best chance to block construction. Nebraska regulators will hear public comment on the project at a 10-hour meeting on Wednesday.

If Ms. Crumly and her allies prevail, several dozen rural landowners will have triumphed over a transnational energy company and the wishes of their president and governor. If they fail, oil will flow through the Crumly property, in a grassy strip between where cows wander and corn grows.

“It doesn’t feel like we’re in that friendly of a political atmosphere.” — Jenni Harrington

BRADSHAW, Neb. — The pipeline opposition here looks nothing like the dispute that emerged last year over the Dakota Access Pipeline in North Dakota, where thousands of demonstrators erected a protest camp near a Native American reservation. There, the National Guard was mobilized, and hundreds of protesters faced arrest.

So far there have been no mass encampments on the Nebraska prairie, no tense standoffs with the police, no highway blockades. But Jane Kleeb, a leader of the pipeline opposition, said the more muted tactics in Nebraska should not be mistaken for a lack of organization or tepid sentiments.

Opponents here managed to delay Keystone XL for years during the Obama administration, challenging state permitting rules and drawing national attention to the pipeline. They have fought with lawsuits and testified about legislation. Here on the Harrington farm, activists built a small solar- and wind-powered barn on the side of a dirt highway, right along the proposed path of Keystone XL. They see it as both a physical barrier to construction and a blunt statement about clean energy.

Some supporters of the pipeline acknowledge the concerns of opponents, but say the pipeline will be safe — and economically beneficial.

“I think the state is ready to move on from this issue,” said Jamie Karl, a vice president of the Nebraska Chamber of Commerce and Industry, which for years has supported the pipeline.

“I think this project shines the light on the fact there’s a large disconnect between energy production and the average American,” said Mr. Karl, whose family owns land not far from a different oil pipeline. “Yes, we all want no risk when it comes to energy production. We understand that. But gas doesn’t magically appear in your car tank. Asphalt doesn’t magically appear on the road you drive on.”

Still, if construction ever begins, opponents say they are willing to participate in civil disobedience. But opponents in Nebraska are betting that they can block the pipeline through other means. The State Public Service Commission , which will decide as early as mid-September whether to grant a permit for Keystone XL, will hold five days of hearings on the project in August.

“I am hopeful,” said Jenni Harrington, one of four sisters who grew up on this farm along the southern portion of the proposed route. “I think people in Nebraska aren’t just pushovers.”

“Environmentally, I’m not worried about this thing at all.” — Robert Johnston

ROYAL, Neb. — Robert Johnston, a fifth-generation farmer and self-described “ultraconservative” Republican, is among the hundreds of Nebraskans who have signed easements for Keystone XL.

Just like the pipeline’s opponents, Mr. Johnston speaks passionately about his land and his family’s history of farming here — 135 years in his case. But Mr. Johnston says he believes that the potential damage from a pipeline leak has been exaggerated, and that Keystone XL’s benefits far outweigh any risks.

“I’m just not going to let something happen to that ground,” said Mr. Johnston, who grows corn, soybeans and alfalfa. “That ground is pretty special to me.”

Mr. Johnston sees Keystone XL as an economic boon for the state, especially a local school district that stands to benefit from additional tax revenue. He also considers the project an opportunity for Nebraska to do its part in expanding the nation’s energy sector.

“We farm. We burn thousands of gallons of fuel every year,” Mr. Johnston said. “That was one of my initial reactions to it: ‘How can they be opposed if they’re driving a fossil fuel-powered vehicle?’”

As Nebraska emerges once again as a national pivot point for Keystone XL, the matter is already settled for most landowners along the route. Years ago, and with varying degrees of enthusiasm, those farmers and ranchers accepted payments and signed papers allowing the pipeline to be built if regulators ever approved.

Ronald Weber, who owns land in the same county as Mr. Johnston, said he wished the route had avoided his property. But Mr. Weber still signed an easement, saying that he recognized the benefits of pipelines and that “it’s got to go somewhere.” Neither Mr. Weber nor Mr. Johnston said how much they were paid by TransCanada, which proposed Keystone XL, but both said the company had treated them fairly. Mr. Johnston said he used his easement money, which was below six figures, to invest in irrigation in a field the pipeline would cross.

“Most people would just as soon not have it and prefer it went somewhere else,” Mr. Weber said. “But it’s just like you can’t have electricity if you don’t have power lines.”

“Every post, every water well, every piece of concrete, I put in here.” — Terry Van Housen

STROMSBURG, Neb. — Visitors to Terry Van Housen’s feedlot are greeted with an American flag and a large sign: “NO PIPELINE, NO PROBLEM.”

Mr. Van Housen, who grows corn and raises cattle, is adamantly opposed to Keystone XL, which would run beneath his fields. He says he might testify against the project at hearings this summer and, if it is approved, participate in protests.

“If it goes over our water system, it could just ruin it,” Mr. Van Housen said. “I don’t want it — any way, shape or form. I don’t even want to be close to it.”

But Mr. Van Housen is a registered Republican living in a Republican county in a Republican state. He voted for Mr. Trump for president, knowing full well that his candidate supported the pipeline and that Hillary Clinton did not.

So intense was Mr. Van Housen’s distrust of Mrs. Clinton that he says he never really believed she would stand in the way of the pipeline. And Mr. Van Housen says he believes that the president can be persuaded to oppose Keystone XL.

“I was happy he won,” said Mr. Van Housen, 64, who has never voted for a Democrat and who said he was buoyed by Mr. Trump’s pledge to shake up government and bring back factory jobs. “I thought we needed some changes in the system.”

Most Republican politicians in this state support the pipeline, but the ground-level opposition is decidedly bipartisan. Ms. Kleeb , the president of Bold Alliance , a prominent anti-pipeline group, was recently elected chairwoman of the Nebraska Democratic Party. Along the route, some holdout landowners voted for Mr. Trump, others for Mrs. Clinton, and still others for none of the above.

Mr. Van Housen says he cannot reasonably expect to agree with the president on every issue. But if Mr. Trump ever passes through Stromsburg, Mr. Van Housen says he will offer him a drink from his well. Then he will tell Mr. Trump that Keystone XL is a threat to that pristine water.

“It’s a 36-inch bomb,” Mr. Van Housen said, alluding to the diameter of the pipe. “It could destroy me, my business, the whole family operation, plus the neighbors.”

“The land is worth more than what they offered me.” — Jim Carlson

SILVER CREEK, Neb. — Jim Carlson has lived all of his 62 years along the gravel roads and soybean stubble near the Platte River.

“It’s the only place I know as home,” said Mr. Carlson, who said he had turned down a roughly $300,000 easement offer from TransCanada.

Most landowners along the Nebraska route have accepted payments and given TransCanada permission to build on their land. But about 90 of them, roughly 9 percent, have not. Mr. Carlson said he feared that a leak in the pipeline would imperil the groundwater he uses to drink and irrigate his crops.

Nebraska’s economy depends on agriculture, and Nebraska agriculture relies on the Ogallala Aquifer, the vast underground water source that nourishes crops and livestock on a huge swath of the Great Plains. TransCanada officials have always said the pipeline would be safe . They rerouted the project years ago to avoid the heart of Nebraska’s ecologically delicate Sandhills region. Many politicians here believe the construction jobs and tax revenue make the project worthwhile.

Terry Cunha, a spokesman for TransCanada, said the proposed path through Nebraska “is the safest route possible for the pipeline,” adding that construction would not begin elsewhere until the Nebraska permit was in place. “This project has gone through numerous reviews, and we continue to believe in the value behind it,” Mr. Cunha said.

Doug Zimmerman lives along the route of a different oil pipeline built by the company, in use since 2010, and says he has had no problems. If TransCanada wanted to put in another pipeline on his land, he says he would be fine with that. “They’re more than welcome to dig another trench and put it in here.”

But the route still traverses the aquifer, unnerving other landowners. “It’s the people who are tied to the land,” Mr. Carlson said, “who understand what’s at risk.”

The family ties run deep. Mr. Carlson’s son is the fifth generation to tend these fields.

“If it never happens, it’s fine. If it does, I can accept it.” — Bill Tielke

ATKINSON, Neb. — Bill Tielke, an elected supervisor here in Holt County, helped pass a resolution opposing Keystone XL in 2013. Mr. Tielke said he was trying to reflect the wishes of his constituents, who include some of the state’s most vocal pipeline opponents.

But Mr. Tielke, a third-generation farmer, also signed an easement allowing TransCanada to put pipe along more than a mile of his land — through an alfalfa field, across a cow pasture and beneath a creek. He says he is neutral on the merits of the project.

“It’s not a deal where I’m going to go out there and start digging for them,” Mr. Tielke said on a recent morning as turkeys and a whitetail deer wandered through his backyard. “But it’s not a deal where I’m going to be standing in front of it saying, ‘No, you can’t.’”

Mr. Tielke concedes that a leak is possible and could damage the creeks running through his land. But he also says that he believes pipelines are necessary, and that TransCanada intends to operate Keystone XL safely.

“A lot of landowners have given up their property for easements for the betterment of the whole country,” said Mr. Tielke, who declined to say how much TransCanada paid him.

While activists for and against the pipeline gird for a highly public fight, there are many others here who find some merit in each side’s arguments, and who mostly avoid bringing up Keystone XL in polite conversation.

“We don’t go to the bar and talk about why you like it and I don’t, or vice versa,” Mr. Tielke said. “It’s just a subject that you don’t talk about.”

Tensions have simmered for years here in Holt County, a place that is about twice the size of Rhode Island but home to only 10,250 residents. Along Mr. Tielke’s fence line, just feet from where the pipeline would cross, a faded, tattered sign has blown over from a neighbor’s property. “Say NO To Keystone XL,” it reads.

“We kind of consider it beyond price.” — Susan Dunavan, with her husband, Bill.

YORK, Neb. — Susan Dunavan received her first letter from TransCanada more than eight years ago, informing her that a future pipeline might be routed through the cattle pasture just up the hill from her apple orchard. It has loomed ever since. Except for a period of 12 months — after Mr. Obama had blocked it in late 2015 and before Mr. Trump was elected — Keystone XL has been all-consuming.

“We have been eating, sleeping, breathing this pipeline because it affects everything in our life,” Ms. Dunavan said. “TransCanada not only wants to steal our property, they have stolen eight years of our lives.”

Ms. Dunavan became one of the most visible pipeline opponents, speaking to national media outlets, testifying to regulators and suing the governor in a case that was heard by the Nebraska Supreme Court.

“Our vacations for the last eight years have been going to State Department meetings, hearings at the Nebraska Legislature,” Ms. Dunavan said.

The fight could not be more personal.

“We are not rich people,” said Ms. Dunavan, who questions the need for the pipeline and worries it would harm native grasses on her property. “We spent our lives purchasing this land.”

A final resolution could still be years away. TransCanada wants to begin construction in 2018, but Ms. Kleeb, the opponents’ leader, said she expects an appeal and lawsuit from whichever side loses before the Nebraska Public Service Commission. And even if a permit is granted, individual landowners could challenge the eminent domain process in local courts. Ms. Kleeb predicted that the pipeline could still be an issue during the 2020 presidential campaign.

“We’re going to go to the end,” Ms. Dunavan said.

Jack Begg and Doris Burke contributed research.