AR-News: (US) NY Times on atrocities at Rosebud Reservation hog
farm
Atrak at aol.com
Atrak at aol.com
Sun Nov 16 12:27:36 EST 2003
The New York Times
November 15, 2003
Indians Now Disdain a Farm Once Hailed for Giving Tribe Jobs
By MELODY PETERSEN
ROSEBUD INDIAN RESERVATION, S. D., Nov. 8 — Seven miles west of the tiny town
of White River, on a snow-covered rise surrounded by bluffs and valleys, 24
metal-roofed barns create an isolated barracks for tens of thousands of
fattening hogs.
When a pig production company called Sun Prairie built the barns on these
tribal trust lands four years ago, the Lakota Sioux who live here on the nearby
reservation said they believed the barns would bring good-paying jobs to a
reservation where 7 of 10 people are unemployed.
The jobs did come. But now some tribal members who have worked at the farm
say they wonder at what cost. They describe a company that discriminates against
Indians, paying them less than white workers and at times demanding they work
extra hours for no pay. They say dust and ammonia emitted from fetid pools of
manure that sometimes accumulate inside the barns made them cough until their
ribs hurt and made breathing a struggle, even months after leaving their jobs.
Workers have also made videotapes of the conditions inside the barns showing
animals so tightly packed in their pens that strong hogs begin to cannibalize
the weak, eating off tails and ears. Other pigs are shown with
soccer-ball-sized abscesses hanging from their bellies. During some weeks, hundreds of pigs
die, some employees say, from mistreatment and disease.
"They are abusing the land, abusing the Indian people and paying them nothing
for their work," said Alvin Covey, a tribal member who worked at the farm for
six months this year until July. "All they really care about is getting their
money."
Mr. Covey is one of dozens of current or former workers at the farm who have
been interviewed in the last year by the Humane Farming Association, a
nonprofit group based in San Francisco that has been fighting to stop the hog farm
since 1998.
[On Friday, the group filed a petition with the state's attorney general
describing how it says the company is abusing the hogs in defiance of state animal
cruelty laws. The petition also says that the group plans to file a separate
complaint contending that the company has mistreated employees and forced them
to work in dangerous conditions.]
Greg Fontaine, chief executive of Bell Farms, a private company that manages
the Sun Prairie farm, said the accusations are not true. Sun Prairie and Bell
Farms are private partnerships partly owned by Rich Bell, whose business is
based is Wahpeton, N.D.
The companies have never discriminated against its Indian workers, Mr.
Fontaine said, nor forced them to work without pay. Mr. Fontaine said he was not
aware of any systemic health problems among the farm's workers.
And the farm, he said, has never treated the hogs inappropriately. While many
may have died on occasion, he said, similar death rates routinely happen "at
any hog company" if disease breaks out.
Mr. Fontaine said the association had simply accumulated stories "to paint
the picture they want to paint." The association had previously made accusations
about environmental problems at the farm, he said, which have not been
substantiated.
Mr. Fontaine also questioned whether the videotapes were actually taken
inside the company's barns. "I can't respond to what I haven't seen," he said. "We
believe we run our farms there with sound husbandry practices. There is no
mistreatment of animals."
But Gail A. Eisnitz, chief investigator at the association, said workers who
shot the videos signed affidavits confirming they were inside the Rosebud
barns. The videos show dead hogs piled in front of a small metal structure that
workers call "the dead box," which is visible from the highway running by the
farm.
Because of the prospect of new jobs, when the company built the first 24
barns in 1998, many tribal members welcomed the farm. The Sioux Rosebud
reservation — 1,442 square miles of rolling hills and pasturelands, dotted with small
towns near Badlands National Park — has the country's fifth-highest child
poverty rate, according to census data.
Even the tribe's casino has done little to lift its members from poverty. Few
gamblers are willing to travel to a place so remote.
Mr. Fontaine said Sun Prairie decided to build the hog farm on tribal lands
because of the availability of workers and water, which the tribe had agreed to
supply. The farm is actually two sites, Grassy Knoll and Cottonwood, a couple
of miles from each other, each with 24 barns, with a combined capacity of
96,000 hogs.
Still, in 1998, the company would have found it hard to build elsewhere in
South Dakota because of a state constitutional amendment then in place banning
corporate farms. Most state laws do not apply to Indian land.
To win tribal support, the company promised the tribe 25 percent of the
farm's profits. But while the company has sold hogs for slaughter worth millions of
dollars, it has sent the tribe a check for a mere $11,000, said Michael
Boltz, who recently retired from the tribal council. Disgusted with the sum, Mr.
Boltz said, tribal officials tore up the check.
Mr. Fontaine said legal fees had consumed the farm's profits.
The tribal council voted in March to evict the farm, Mr. Boltz said, but
continuing litigation between the tribe and the company has stopped any action.
Mr. Boltz said he believed that the conditions for the pigs and workers fell
somewhere between the dueling descriptions offered by the association and the
company. He said he had not learned of significant complaints from workers
about health or safety, but had heard accusations about poor conditions for the
hogs.
Ms. Eisnitz said the association recently had the air inside the barns tested
for ammonia. At their peak, she said, the levels were more than double the
federal government's average limit for workers during an eight-hour shift.
Many workers complained about breathing problems. Anthony Barrera said he was
so short of breath after quitting as a maintenance worker at the farm last
year that for months he could not finish a sentence. A doctor, he said,
prescribed a medicine inhaler usually used by asthmatics and told him that breathing
the barn air could cause lung problems like those suffered by coal miners. When
employees gather in the farm's break room, he said, there is a continuous
chorus of deep coughs.
Mr. Fontaine said the company periodically tested the barn air for ammonia
and had not found an unsafe level.
One worker, Arthur Black Bear, said in a taped interview that was part of the
association's investigation that his bosses ordered him back to work after he
was jolted by electricity while using faulty equipment. He can no longer
work, he said, because the shock left him with chest pain and muscle spasms. He
also has difficulty concentrating, he said.
Mr. Fontaine questioned Mr. Black Bear's account, saying that records show he
had suffered "a routine work injury." No manager, he said, had ordered Mr.
Black Bear to work after he was hurt.
Mr. Barrera and some current workers said they had firsthand knowledge of the
mistreatment and mishandling of the animals.
The employees say more than 50 piglets froze to death one night last winter
after they were left on a truck overnight. Mr. Barrera said the barns do not
have enough heat lamps to keep the babies warm, so they jump on top of each
other in a pile under each light. Sometimes, he said, those on the bottom smother,
while those on the top burn to death.
Mr. Fontaine disagreed that such deaths were a problem. "We want as many
animals to survive that can," he said.
But Marlene Covey, who worked several weeks at the farm this year caring for
piglets, said employees were told to kill pigs they believed were too sick to
live. "They picked them up by the hind legs and smacked their head on the
floor," Mrs. Covey said.
Copyright 2003 The New York Times Company | Home | Privacy Policy | Search |
Corrections | Help | Back to Top
More information about the AR-News
mailing list