Immokalee, Florida, has seen its share of hunters, trappers, cowmen and missionaries since it was first settled in the late 1800s. Its name means “my home” in the Seminole language, evidently people lived there before the intruders mentioned above. This is a common mistake in the United States when “first settled” is used as the historical take off for a place.
The Immokalee area is heavily agricultural, one of the major centers of growing tomatoes in the U.S., providing up to 90% of our winter supply. The life and struggle of the Immokalee tomato picker has not changed much since Edward R. Murrow’s Harvest of Shame, a 1960 television documentary presented on CBS that showed the plight of the agricultural workers.
The conditions behind the scenes of what appears to be average tomato farms are actually pickers being abused, held against their will and forced into slavery. “Slavery” sounds like strong language because Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation was issued in 1863 and slavery permanently abolished in 1885. However, Senator Bernie Sanders has continued to fight for the total abolition of slavery in Immokalee and across the country.
BURLINGTON, Vt., September 3 – Senator Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), a member of the Senate labor committee, made the following statement today regarding the recent guilty plea by five residents of Immokalee, Florida to enslaving and brutalizing farm workers:
“I think most Americans would find it hard to believe that people in our country are pleading guilty to slavery charges in the year 2008, but that is what is going on in the tomato fields of Florida. And, of course, this is not the first case. It is the sixth successful slavery prosecution which has resulted in the freeing of about 1,000 workers.
“While slavery is, of course, the most extreme situation in the tomato fields, the truth is that the average worker there is being ruthlessly exploited. Tomato pickers perform backbreaking work, make very low wages, have no benefits and virtually no labor protections.”
My first wife Alice and I drove from Sarasota towards Immokalee in 1970. The Everglades were on fire. Alice held our first child, Kirstin, a few months old, as the smoke filled our VW bug and the swamp blazes could be seen on both sides of the road. It was a drive into hell! Here is a photo!
What, Where, Why? Good questions. Oh yes, we had a mission, a purpose. Migrant worker leaders had invited us to come to Immokalee to help organize a cooperative grocery store. At that time there were no major stores in town and people had to drive to Naples or Fort Meyers to find decent food prices.
We lived in a low income housing project, used food stamps and made it work for us until in didn’t. We had no income and donations were slim. We were white folks in a brown and black world.
That world was stark, hard, and depressing. The pain of physical labor was tempered by drugs and alcohol. We saw large black men loading and unloading watermelon because they had the strength and drug infused stamina to endure the work. They threw melons to others, who loaded them onto semis heading north. The work was so difficult that many workers would last only a few days.
Mexicans, Haitians, Puerto Ricans, Central Americans, and white winos made up the work force. These folks came to the new grocery for a break on food costs. It felt good to be able to touch the pain just a little.
Within that group, that ethnic mix, all was not well. I made the error of connecting to guys with the very same surname. You know something casual like, “Hey, you fellas must be related. Are you brothers or cousins?” The blowback was strong and hostile. They made it clear that one was Mexican and the other Puerto Rican. Sorry, I am from Indiana!
The group that made the very most of the situation were the Mexicans. They had late model pickups and lived together, more communally, in well kept little homes. I think of this as I take walks where I currently live and see an extended family in an old frame house with several late model cars and trucks parked out front. It seems like cultural goodness.
We didn’t last long in Immokalee. After a few months we fled north with another couple and their family to Evanston, Illinois, leaving an experience that is a part of the fabric, the skin and bones, of this 79-year-old person still desiring to be a good man.
Note: The DVD Harvest of Shame cover shows that Dan Rather was the correspondent. Dan is 91 and now, along with Elliot Kirschner, has a wonderful Substack named STEADY. Check it out for the analysis of the times and the sweetness of their weekly feature “A Reason to Smile”.