Laura
02-08-2009, 10:53 PM
http://www.desmoinesregister.com/article/20090208/NEWS/902080344/1001
Company accused of exploiting disabled; state closes home
By CLARK KAUFFMAN © 2009, Des Moines Register and Tribune Company • February 8, 2009
Atalissa, Ia. — Federal police, state health inspectors and county prosecutors descended on this eastern Iowa town over the weekend, launching a major investigation into the care and treatment of a group of mentally retarded men and ordering an emergency evacuation of the men's living quarters.
The investigation focuses on Henry's Turkey Service, a Texas-based company that for 34 years has employed dozens of mentally retarded men who work at the West Liberty Foods meat-processing plant in Muscatine County.
Late Saturday, the state fire marshal shut down the deteriorating building — known locally as "the bunkhouse" — that for decades has served as housing for Henry's workers. State social workers moved the 21 occupants of the bunkhouse to a hotel where they were expected to spend the night.
Officials from the U.S. Department of Justice, which investigates allegations of civil rights violations against the disabled, were on the scene Saturday night, as were agents of the FBI.
J. Bennett, an Iowa Department of Inspections and Appeals administrator, was in the bunkhouse Saturday and described conditions as "deplorable." Department spokesman David Werning said it appeared that the building, which is owned by the city of Atalissa, was heated solely by space heaters.
Since the late 1970s, Henry's Turkey Service has been shipping mentally retarded men from Texas to Iowa to work in the West Liberty plant. Henry's has acted as the workers' employer, landlord and caregiver — paying the men a reduced wage for their work at the plant and then deducting from their pay the cost of room, board and care. Payroll records indicate the men are left with as little as $65 per month in salary.
"My God, this is an embarrassment to the state of Iowa," said Sylvia Piper of Iowa Protection and Advocacy, a federally funded group that oversees services for the disabled. "This should not be happening in our state."
Kenneth J. Henry, who runs Henry's Turkey Service, declined to comment. "I'm not going to answer any of your questions," he told The Des Moines Register on Friday.
Last Tuesday, The Register asked mental health advocates and state officials about Henry's and the workers' living conditions in Atalissa. On Friday, state health inspectors, abuse investigators, county prosecutors and police were at the bunkhouse. The investigation intensified on Saturday with additional involvement by federal agents.
Their investigation is focused primarily on the potential financial exploitation of the workers, all of whom are expected to lose their jobs in the next few weeks.
State officials say the 21 men who were at the bunkhouse Saturday have worked for Henry's for at least 20 years. Keith Brown, 57, has lived there since 1979. His sister, Sherri Brown, said her brother has $80 in the bank after working 30 years for Henry's.
Payroll records obtained by the Register show that in January Henry's Turkey Service deducted $487 from Brown's earnings to pay for his room and board. The company also deducted $572 for "kind care," although the bunkhouse is an unregulated group home, not a facility that provides medical care or assistance.
Sherri Brown said she recently asked company officials where her brother's wages and Social Security payments have gone and received only vague assurances that nothing was amiss.
"I'm angry," she said. "I want to get some answers."
Inspectors visited bunkhouse before
The 106-year-old bunkhouse, once a school, sits high on a windswept hilltop in Atalissa.
The cracked foundation, locked doors, and boarded-up windows have long given the structure the appearance of an abandoned building. Several signs warn visitors to keep out unless they are "authorized."
The building, until Saturday's emergency evacuation, was home for the mentally retarded men working for Henry's Turkey Service. In 1979, Henry's had 60 men living in the building, sleeping on iron-frame bunks. Back then, the state of Texas was referring mentally handicapped people to Henry's and giving the company money for skills training.
Most of the 21 men who were evacuated from the building Saturday are now in their 50s and 60s.
Typically, their days began at 2:30 a.m., when they were awakened. At 4:30 a.m., they were taken into the still-dark yard and loaded into passenger vans for the six-mile drive to the West Liberty plant. Once there, they donned protective clothing and went to work "on the line," cleaning turkeys. Gene Berg, a 53-year-old cancer patient, has worked there as a "gut puller." Billy and Robert Penner, two brothers in their 60s, have pulled guts and plucked feathers.
Henry's paid the men a "handicap wage" that is about half the typical salary of other employees. That reflects that these men, at least in theory, are not as productive as their nonhandicapped co-workers. It's a controversial, but legal, process: With the permission of the U.S. Department of Labor, a company can pay subminimum wages to disabled workers who would otherwise not be employable.
Although the men work at West Liberty Foods, they are employees of Henry's Turkey Service, which has a contract to supply the plant with laborers. The contract expires March 8.
Last week, Henry's Turkey Service was planning to send the remaining 21 men back to Texas. Many of the men have no family, and some were expected to end up in care facilities, depending on their level of disability. As part of the current investigation, state social workers are now trying to assess the men's needs and measure their degree of dependence.
It's not the first time government officials have made that sort of assessment. In 2001 and 2005, the state inspections department visited the building in response to complaints that it was an unlicensed care center — a rooming house for people who needed skilled care. Inspectors concluded the men weren't that dependent, so no action was taken.
...
"These guys have grown up together"
The highway sign on the edge of Atalissa claims the town has a population of 271 people plus "two grumps."
With the residents of the bunkhouse leaving, a big part of the town is disappearing. For decades, the men have been a regular fixture at the town's convenience store and at church.
Dru Neubauer said 20 of the 21 remaining men want to stay in Atalissa. She said she worries that they will be separated and sent to different care facilities throughout Texas.
"These guys have grown up together," she said. "They're brothers. I don't want to see them scattered."
Passmore, the former Atalissa mayor, is concerned, too.
"I tell you what, I hate to see those boys go," he said. "They are a big part of this community. They fit in here just dandy, and they're great neighbors."
Six of the men who left the bunkhouse a few weeks ago now live at Terrace West, a state-licensed nursing home in Midland, Texas. A supervisor there, Ruth Day, said Friday that they are all doing well.
"Oh, they stick together," she said. "But the other residents here have really accepted them, and they are all doing great. They're well taken care of here."
Before Saturday's evacuation, Neubauer had said she wanted to continue caring for the men there — even if Henry's was no longer part of the picture.
It's possible that some of the men have needs that can be met only in a licensed care facility — in which case they will have to move from Atalissa. Others, however, might be independent enough that they can live in a group home. If so, government assistance might cover their living expenses so they wouldn't have to work in a meat-processing plant.
Keith Brown is one of the men who would like to stay in Iowa. His sister Sherri sends him regular shipments of his favorite foods, Dr Pepper and Pringles potato chips, and says she wants Keith to be happy. Her main concern, though, is that he receive the care and attention he deserves.
"I want him to be safe," she says. "I want what's best for him."
Mary Etta Lane, a Missouri mental-health advocate who investigated Henry's when she worked in Iowa during the 1980s, said she is discouraged that over the past 30 years so little progress has been made in caring for the mentally disabled.
"These are real people, the same as you and me," she said. "Why do they have to live in an old schoolhouse and go to work every day in a meat-processing plant? You know, this is the heartland. We're supposed to have some values."
Company accused of exploiting disabled; state closes home
By CLARK KAUFFMAN © 2009, Des Moines Register and Tribune Company • February 8, 2009
Atalissa, Ia. — Federal police, state health inspectors and county prosecutors descended on this eastern Iowa town over the weekend, launching a major investigation into the care and treatment of a group of mentally retarded men and ordering an emergency evacuation of the men's living quarters.
The investigation focuses on Henry's Turkey Service, a Texas-based company that for 34 years has employed dozens of mentally retarded men who work at the West Liberty Foods meat-processing plant in Muscatine County.
Late Saturday, the state fire marshal shut down the deteriorating building — known locally as "the bunkhouse" — that for decades has served as housing for Henry's workers. State social workers moved the 21 occupants of the bunkhouse to a hotel where they were expected to spend the night.
Officials from the U.S. Department of Justice, which investigates allegations of civil rights violations against the disabled, were on the scene Saturday night, as were agents of the FBI.
J. Bennett, an Iowa Department of Inspections and Appeals administrator, was in the bunkhouse Saturday and described conditions as "deplorable." Department spokesman David Werning said it appeared that the building, which is owned by the city of Atalissa, was heated solely by space heaters.
Since the late 1970s, Henry's Turkey Service has been shipping mentally retarded men from Texas to Iowa to work in the West Liberty plant. Henry's has acted as the workers' employer, landlord and caregiver — paying the men a reduced wage for their work at the plant and then deducting from their pay the cost of room, board and care. Payroll records indicate the men are left with as little as $65 per month in salary.
"My God, this is an embarrassment to the state of Iowa," said Sylvia Piper of Iowa Protection and Advocacy, a federally funded group that oversees services for the disabled. "This should not be happening in our state."
Kenneth J. Henry, who runs Henry's Turkey Service, declined to comment. "I'm not going to answer any of your questions," he told The Des Moines Register on Friday.
Last Tuesday, The Register asked mental health advocates and state officials about Henry's and the workers' living conditions in Atalissa. On Friday, state health inspectors, abuse investigators, county prosecutors and police were at the bunkhouse. The investigation intensified on Saturday with additional involvement by federal agents.
Their investigation is focused primarily on the potential financial exploitation of the workers, all of whom are expected to lose their jobs in the next few weeks.
State officials say the 21 men who were at the bunkhouse Saturday have worked for Henry's for at least 20 years. Keith Brown, 57, has lived there since 1979. His sister, Sherri Brown, said her brother has $80 in the bank after working 30 years for Henry's.
Payroll records obtained by the Register show that in January Henry's Turkey Service deducted $487 from Brown's earnings to pay for his room and board. The company also deducted $572 for "kind care," although the bunkhouse is an unregulated group home, not a facility that provides medical care or assistance.
Sherri Brown said she recently asked company officials where her brother's wages and Social Security payments have gone and received only vague assurances that nothing was amiss.
"I'm angry," she said. "I want to get some answers."
Inspectors visited bunkhouse before
The 106-year-old bunkhouse, once a school, sits high on a windswept hilltop in Atalissa.
The cracked foundation, locked doors, and boarded-up windows have long given the structure the appearance of an abandoned building. Several signs warn visitors to keep out unless they are "authorized."
The building, until Saturday's emergency evacuation, was home for the mentally retarded men working for Henry's Turkey Service. In 1979, Henry's had 60 men living in the building, sleeping on iron-frame bunks. Back then, the state of Texas was referring mentally handicapped people to Henry's and giving the company money for skills training.
Most of the 21 men who were evacuated from the building Saturday are now in their 50s and 60s.
Typically, their days began at 2:30 a.m., when they were awakened. At 4:30 a.m., they were taken into the still-dark yard and loaded into passenger vans for the six-mile drive to the West Liberty plant. Once there, they donned protective clothing and went to work "on the line," cleaning turkeys. Gene Berg, a 53-year-old cancer patient, has worked there as a "gut puller." Billy and Robert Penner, two brothers in their 60s, have pulled guts and plucked feathers.
Henry's paid the men a "handicap wage" that is about half the typical salary of other employees. That reflects that these men, at least in theory, are not as productive as their nonhandicapped co-workers. It's a controversial, but legal, process: With the permission of the U.S. Department of Labor, a company can pay subminimum wages to disabled workers who would otherwise not be employable.
Although the men work at West Liberty Foods, they are employees of Henry's Turkey Service, which has a contract to supply the plant with laborers. The contract expires March 8.
Last week, Henry's Turkey Service was planning to send the remaining 21 men back to Texas. Many of the men have no family, and some were expected to end up in care facilities, depending on their level of disability. As part of the current investigation, state social workers are now trying to assess the men's needs and measure their degree of dependence.
It's not the first time government officials have made that sort of assessment. In 2001 and 2005, the state inspections department visited the building in response to complaints that it was an unlicensed care center — a rooming house for people who needed skilled care. Inspectors concluded the men weren't that dependent, so no action was taken.
...
"These guys have grown up together"
The highway sign on the edge of Atalissa claims the town has a population of 271 people plus "two grumps."
With the residents of the bunkhouse leaving, a big part of the town is disappearing. For decades, the men have been a regular fixture at the town's convenience store and at church.
Dru Neubauer said 20 of the 21 remaining men want to stay in Atalissa. She said she worries that they will be separated and sent to different care facilities throughout Texas.
"These guys have grown up together," she said. "They're brothers. I don't want to see them scattered."
Passmore, the former Atalissa mayor, is concerned, too.
"I tell you what, I hate to see those boys go," he said. "They are a big part of this community. They fit in here just dandy, and they're great neighbors."
Six of the men who left the bunkhouse a few weeks ago now live at Terrace West, a state-licensed nursing home in Midland, Texas. A supervisor there, Ruth Day, said Friday that they are all doing well.
"Oh, they stick together," she said. "But the other residents here have really accepted them, and they are all doing great. They're well taken care of here."
Before Saturday's evacuation, Neubauer had said she wanted to continue caring for the men there — even if Henry's was no longer part of the picture.
It's possible that some of the men have needs that can be met only in a licensed care facility — in which case they will have to move from Atalissa. Others, however, might be independent enough that they can live in a group home. If so, government assistance might cover their living expenses so they wouldn't have to work in a meat-processing plant.
Keith Brown is one of the men who would like to stay in Iowa. His sister Sherri sends him regular shipments of his favorite foods, Dr Pepper and Pringles potato chips, and says she wants Keith to be happy. Her main concern, though, is that he receive the care and attention he deserves.
"I want him to be safe," she says. "I want what's best for him."
Mary Etta Lane, a Missouri mental-health advocate who investigated Henry's when she worked in Iowa during the 1980s, said she is discouraged that over the past 30 years so little progress has been made in caring for the mentally disabled.
"These are real people, the same as you and me," she said. "Why do they have to live in an old schoolhouse and go to work every day in a meat-processing plant? You know, this is the heartland. We're supposed to have some values."