Swift Plant Raid has
Devastated Cactus, Texas
February 11, 2007
By ISABEL C. MORALES / Al Día / The Dallas Morning News
CACTUS, Texas – For several weeks now, 2-year-old
Saul has been calling his teenage sister Mamá.
Carmen feeds him, bathes him, gives
him his bottle and tucks him in before drifting
off to sleep herself.
That's been her routine since her
mother, Angelica, was picked up in the Immigration
and Customs Enforcement raid Dec. 12 at the Swift
& Co. plant and sent back to her native Chihuahua,
Mexico.
ICE
agents descended on
Swift
plants in six states, arresting nearly 1,300 workers,
including 292 in Cactus, in the largest work-site
enforcement action ever. Hundreds are still being
held on identity theft or immigration-related
charges. Others were sent home after signing voluntary
deportation orders.
The raid devastated this Panhandle
community. Signs in English and Spanish advertise
apartments for rent; businesses struggle to get
back on their feet; streets are empty as residents
fear setting foot outside their homes; Swift ads
in local newspapers – in English and Spanish
– promote jobs that pay $11.85 an hour to
start and $15.20 an hour at the next level; and
new workers drift into town.
City officials – current and
former – say the government's action is
but a temporary fix and not a solution to the
real problem of porous borders and a broken system.
"We've seen it too often,"
said City Manager Jeff Jenkins. "You've done
this raid, [but] what have you done to fix the
problem? And the problem still exists, basically
the meaning of that being that Swift still is
checking IDs the old way. If the old way's not
working ... it can happen again."
Carmen and Saul – whose names
have been changed to protect their privacy –
and their siblings are among some 80 children
in Cactus who were left without one or both of
their parents after the raid. They are now being
cared for by family members or volunteers, according
to officials at St. Peter & Paul Catholic
Church.
Their mother, Angelica, came to
Cactus six years ago in search of a better job
and future for her children. And she found it
at Swift. The plant paid well, enough for a single
mom to provide a good living for her family –
a common refrain here, where three of four residents
are believed to be illegal immigrants.
Now back in
Chihuahua, she calls daily to check on her children and talk
to her sister, Guadalupe, who lives in nearby
Dumas.
"When I talk to my sister,
she does nothing but cry," says Guadalupe,
who asked that her last name not be used. "She
asks me to take care and to watch over the children.
I do what I can, but I have my own kids."
When Angelica was deported, Carmen
immediately took over the household.
The 17-year-old is up at 5 a.m.
to make sure that her other siblings – ages
16, 12 and 11 – get to school on time. Then
she waits for her aunt to come over to take Saul
so she can rush off to her job at the tortilla
factory.
"I know what being a mother
means, now," said Carmen. "It's not
easy. I try to do what I can. The kids are good,
and we help each other out."
In the afternoon, she picks up little
brother Saul, then returns to the two-bedroom
mobile
home she and the children share with their
uncle to clean house and prepare dinner.
The meals are simple, she says.
She wishes she could cook red chile like her mother.
But there's just not enough time.
She's taking night classes in the
evenings so she can get her
general equivalency diploma and dreams of studying
gerontology.
Empty streets
On this particular weekend, the streets of Cactus
are empty, save for the occasional pedestrian
walking to the local
Laundromat.
"This looks like a ghost town,"
said Elvia Vásquez, the town's
midwife,
who has lived here more than 30 years. "There
are more dogs and cats than people."
Apartments once occupied by entire
families are up for rent.
"I don't even worry about renting
the apartments, because it's just too hard,"
said Albertina Corral, the owner of an apartment
quad in the area. "I was renting them to
a group of
Guatemalans,
and most of them have gone. The raids affected
everything."
Former Police Chief Tim Turley,
who was outspoken about the problems brought on
by an illegal immigrant population, was fired
the day after the raid. He says he's disappointed
that people seem to overlook the fact that hundreds
were victimized by identity theft.
"Honestly, I don't see that it hurt the town,"
he said. He is annoyed by the refrain of: "Oh,
the poor people. They're just trying to make a
living and take care of their families."
The individuals working at Swift
were working "under an assumed identity,
using somebody's
Social
Security number," he said. "For
every one of those individuals who was taken away,
there is a corresponding person, the victim of
identity theft."
The Rev. Juan Antonio Albaladejo
of St. Peter & Paul Catholic Church said he
understands that authorities have to enforce immigration
laws. Nonetheless, he says, the raid ruined many
lives here.
"What they did was just absurd:
to descend on the plant armed to the teeth, handcuff
them and take them prisoner as if they were criminals,"
Father Albaladejo said. "To divide families
without taking into account that some of them
have lived here for more than 15 years.
"In many cases, the children
were born here, and the parents were undocumented,"
he added. "Then the state has to take the
children and put them into foster care, separating
families. They haven't taken that into account."
Since the day of the arrests, the
church has been collecting money, diapers, food
and clothing. It's helped more than 250 families
and distributed some $32,546 to cover rent and
utilities.
Money arrived from Oklahoma, Kansas
and cities all over Texas, said Carol Valdez,
the parish administrator.
Swift itself donated $300,000 to
United
Way offices in the affected counties –
to be distributed among the families of workers
detained. United Way of Moore County received
$68,000, according to Swift.
Father Albaladejo says he doesn't know of anyone
in town who got help from United Way.
"They told me that if we needed
money to talk to the company, because they might
be able to give us some of that money," he
said. "But we got money from other sources,
so we didn't go to them."
Milton Pax, a member of United Way's
board of directors in Dumas, said that the money
had not yet been distributed but added that the
organization had helped one family and that it
planned to help three others last weekend.
United Way will distribute $100
Wal-Mart
gift cards to family members of deported workers,
Mr. Pax said. Those who ask for help will need
to provide the name of the person detained or
deported and the Social Security number they were
using at work.
"The company gave us a list with the names
of those people so that we could help them,"
he said.
The church has also paid for plane
and bus tickets of five Guatemalans who decided
to go back home.
Vacancies to fill
At the once-popular "Guatemala" store,
where the Central Americans gathered, only the
sign remains. The building is for lease.
Jenkins, the city manager, said
the north side of town has more vacant apartments
– left by families who moved out or returned
to their countries.
"Time heals all wounds,"
he said, though he's concerned that what led to
the raid is happening again.
Word has spread that Swift
needs workers.
Dagoberto Enríquez and his cousin Noel
Enriquez of Zacatecas, Mexico, traveled from their
current home in Liberal, Ark., to apply for a
job. They were told that same day that they could
start the following Monday after their physicals.
They'll be boning cattle for $11.85
an hour.
"We heard on the radio that
they were looking for people," Mr. Dagoberto
said. "And, yes, we see it's very easy [to
get a job here]. We used to work oiling rails."
Swift spokesman Sean McHugh said
the company is pleased with the number of applications
received. It's offering an incentive for workers
who refer good candidates – a $650 bonus
paid over three months for unskilled candidates
and $1,500 for experienced ones, he said.
"While we are still recruiting,
our focus has shifted a bit to training those
individuals that we hire," he said. "It
takes several weeks to train somebody that is
new in the meat processing industry."
Imelda Maldonado, who has been at
the plant for over 25 years and is a member of
Local
540, United Food & Commercial Workers Union,
said production has definitely slowed. The company
is trying to move quickly to hire more people,
she says, but it's not enough.
In January, Swift announced that
the government's action could cost the company
$30 million from production cutbacks and hiring
at its plants. "It's not bad for those of
us used to working with knives," Ms. Maldonado
said. "But for new people, it's tough."
Ms. Maldonado said the company has
hired a number of people from Sudan, in Africa,
who also don't speak English. They commute daily
from Amarillo, she says. "They're like refugees."
Betty O'Neill, cultural adviser
and job developer for Catholic Family Services
in Amarillo, estimated that about 10 African refugees
work for the Swift plant in Cactus. But their
presence is "not because of the raid, absolutely
for sure," she said. The refugees, primarily
from Somalia and Sudan, have worked at Swift for
about two years, she said.
Ms. O'Neill said she was contacted
by government officials after the raid to make
sure the refugees were in the country legally.
"We told them all of our refugees are legal,"
she said. "Ours are documented."
In hiding
At the home of one former employee, time seems
to have come to a standstill.
Christmas lights and an artificial
tree provide much of the illumination in the living
room during the day, though it's late January.
Most windows are covered with cardboard and plastic.
"Since the children can't go out to play,
they may as well keep enjoying Christmas,"
said the former worker, who agreed to speak only
on condition of anonymity.
The woman said she hid under a table
during the raid, as immigration agents rounded
up her fellow workers. Then she slipped out, unnoticed.
She rarely leaves the house, except
to take her children – all
U.S.
citizens – to and from school. She doesn't
want to run the risk of being deported and separated
from them.
And she's hoping the church can
help her process her children's passports so she
can return to the Quiche region in her native
Guatemala.
"I'm not looking for trouble,"
she said. "I'm not stealing or doing anything
else. All I want is to provide for my children.
I would die if anything happened to my kids."
Across U.S. Highway 287 from Swift,
at El Rincón Norteño, Maria Reséndiz
burns incense sticks – seven of them –
for good luck every night before opening the bar.
As she walks every inch of the building,
she prays for a pickup in business. Since the
raid, only a scattered few come to play pool and
have a drink.
"Things are very difficult,"
said the Jalisco, Mexico, native who's lived in
Cactus for 12 years.
And at El Jacalito grocery store
next door, Lorena Adame says beer sales are down.
"This is how we know the business is not
what it used to be," she said.
Plant workers used to drop in daily
– before and after their shifts –
to buy sandwiches or tacos for lunch, Ms. Adame
said. But there are fewer every day.
The drop in sales has been replaced
by the business of mailing boxes to Guatemala.
In the last several weeks, the store has sent
55 boxes with microwave ovens, used clothing,
blenders and other items to Central America.
"Many asked their friends here
to mail them their things," Ms. Adame said.
Yolanda Marquez, owner of Yovi Fashion,
a miscellaneous store, said she's never seen the
town so sad in her 23 years here.
She's hopeful new people will arrive and improve
the economy and has "faith in things getting
better."
Mr. Jenkins, the city manager, agrees.
"We're in a rough patch,"
he says, "but we're sure the town will recover."
Jailed husband
A few blocks away, Norma Gonzalez awaits word
about her husband, who was detained during the
raid and is being held in Randall County Jail
in Amarillo on charges of using fraudulent documents
to gain work at Swift.
Ms. Gonzalez is a permanent legal
resident; two of her children are U.S. citizens,
and the third is a legal resident like her.
They're getting by with a little
help from the church and savings. Thankfully,
their home is paid off, she says.
"Asking for [help] is not easy,"
said Ms. Gonzalez.
More than six years ago, she filed
a petition to sponsor her husband so that he could
become a legal resident. But the application is
not scheduled for review until 2008.
She asked that his name not be used,
though he is officially charged with fraud in
connection with immigration documents, false representation
of a Social Security number and false representation
of U.S. citizenship. Each charge carries a penalty
of up to 18 years in prison and a $250,000 fine,
according to records obtained from the
U.S.
attorney's office of North Texas.
Twice a week, Ms. Gonzalez and her
children go to the post office to check for mail
from the father – sent from the Amarillo
detention center.
Today, there's a letter from him
– recognizable by the artwork on the envelope:
a huge red heart broken in half with golden wedding
bands.
"This letter is from my dad,"
said Juliana, 10, showing proudly the car and
the rose he had drawn for her. "He draws
on each of them and writes our names."
She shows off a picture of her dad
wearing a volunteer firefighter uniform. "I
love him and miss him a lot."
The oldest son, Hedier, 15, is depressed
and worried about "things I shouldn't be
worrying about," he says. "I look at
my little sister, and she doesn't have that same
twinkle in her eyes,"
Though Ms. Gonzalez's husband is
not his biological father, he loves and respects
him as if he were, he says. Just a few months
ago, he'd started calling him Dad.
"I'm afraid my family will
disintegrate," says Ms. Gonzalez. Her son
would like to stay and finish school, but her
daughters want to be with their father.
"This is a tragedy," she
says, adding that she hopes he does not remain
in jail too long and is instead deported to
Mexico where they may be together again.
Dallas Morning News staff writer
Diane Jennings contributed to this report. Isabel
Morales is a staff writer for Al
Día, The News' Spanish-language newspaper.
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