Fort Myers News-Press June 19, 2005 Neglect may force closure By JEFF CULL Two farm labor camps that have housed migrants in Lee County for decades went half a century without a visit from a building inspector.
County health inspectors, however, checked the camps at least nine times since September and cited the owners for infractions, including raw sewage on the grounds.
But they never told code enforcement or building inspectors about the problems they found.
Those included rotting wood floors and roofs, broken or boarded-up windows and missing electrical fixtures.
County building officials say it wasn’t their job to check on the 46 ramshackle houses in the two camps.
“We just haven’t been there. Someone else regulates them,” said Bob Stewart, director of the county’s building department. “Code enforcement hasn’t gotten any complaints.”
Now, the Antonia Longoria Migrant Camp and Tomas Longoria Migrant Camp on State Road 82 near Interstate 75 have been annexed into Fort Myers, and city officials are threatening to shut them down.
As many as 180 migrants and their families have been coping with what city officials called “unlivable” conditions. Only a handful of workers live in the camps now, but they fill up during the fall harvest season. Fort Myers building official Fred Maier, who inspected the camp Wednesday with city code enforcers, called the buildings “deplorable.”
“When you see conditions like this, it makes you wonder,” he said.
Maier also wondered what other inspecting agencies had found.
“What did the county and state write up about this place?” he asked.
County building officials never looked.
Health inspectors, who regulate farm labor housing, approved the camps yearly but never asked their counterparts in the county building department to look into potential violations.
“We don’t have the authority to say a facility is unlivable,” said Mike Wallans, the environmental director for the county health department. “If they meet minimum standards by our rules, then we can give them a permit.”
Health inspectors said they only check for sanitation and safety issues, and the camps were approved.
But inspection reports show building elements were included in reports but never mentioned to building officials.
State officials, who are responsible for issuing permits and inspecting the camps but delegate that responsibility to county health departments, said cooperation among agencies is essential.
“Most county health officials work with their counterparts in the building departments,” said Leslie Harris, who supervises the migrant labor camp program for the state health department in Tallahassee.
Most of the farm labor camps the health department inspects in Lee County are clean, well-maintained and livable.
The News-Press toured seven camps and found nothing similar to the conditions at the Longoria camps.
It’s not uncommon in migrant housing to have different agencies inspect the same site, said Lisa Butler, an attorney with Florida Rural Legal Services.
“We have a state statute that covers habitability, but other issues are inspected by other agencies,” she said.
If Fort Myers closes the Longoria camps — city officials will make a decision next week — Lee County will lose 23 percent of its farmworker housing.
Nearly 1,000 migrant housing units have been lost statewide since the ’04 hurricanes, and none have been replaced, said Rob Williams, director of the Migrant Farm Worker Justice Project in Tallahassee.
On top of that, legislators yanked $20 million from this year’s budget that was earmarked for migrant housing.
That leaves the people who pick fruit and vegetables or work menial construction or service industry jobs with few options.
Migrants travel to crops that need harvesting. They leave Southwest Florida in May, go north to Georgia and the Carolinas and return in the fall. Median salary for a farmworker is about $7,500 per year; for families, it’s about $10,000, well below poverty guidelines.
YEARS OF NEGLECT
Poor conditions at the two Longoria camps came to the forefront in May when Fort Myers code enforcement officials looked at them after being annexed into the city.
Officials said they were aghast at the conditions.
Nearly all buildings could be condemned under city ordinances, said Mike Titmuss, the city’s chief code enforcer.
Marta Longoria, who helps her son Tomas run one of the camps, said there’s no money for repairs.
Electrical boxes show exposed wires, propane tanks that supply stoves are leaking, windows are broken and roofs leak. Many of the wooden floors are unsafe, inspectors said.
Unpaved roads are difficult to navigate, and raw sewage was reported last month on the grounds.
“The property is up for sale,” Longoria said. “We’re going to fix the homes, but we don’t have the money to do all the repairs. We’ll try to get them repaired.”
The 19-acre property could fetch as much as $6.5 million, said commercial real estate expert Frank D’Alessandro, who writes a real estate column for The News-Press.
Longoria said they charge $35 per week for a single man to share a home with as many as five other workers.
That amounts to $840 per month per unit or about the cost to rent a two-bedroom apartment in Lee County.
These approximately 378- square-foot homes don’t have plumbing — residents use communal toilets and showers — air conditioning, paved roads or other amenities.
Antonia Longoria did not return calls for comment.
County health inspectors have gone to the Longoria camps at least nine times since September.
The News-Press reviewed inspection reports dating back to 2000 and found a pattern. Inspectors would give the camps an “unsatisfactory” report, the owners would fix the worst items and receive a “satisfactory” the following month.
Since September, the Tomas Longoria camps received five “unsatisfactory” and three “satisfactory” reports. The owners also were issued citations for such violations as raw sewage on the ground, overflowing septic tanks, grease traps that weren’t working and for allowing children in the camp. Bathrooms must be provided in units that allow children. Units at the Longoria camps have none.
Wallans said inspectors check farm labor camps for such things as cleanliness and whether camp owners are giving residents required minimum area to live. State law says each resident must have at least 50 square feet of living area, not including kitchens or hallways.
County building officials insist checking the camps was not their responsibility.
“The state is the licensing authority,” Stewart said.
He said he recently checked with county attorneys and was assured the county didn’t have to make the inspections.
Christine Larson, an attorney with Florida Rural Legal Services, said enforcement across the state is inconsistent.
“Some counties do a great job, other counties haven’t done so well,” Larson said.
A coordinated effort between building and health officials is required to ensure camps are inspected for all requirements, such as sanitation, safety and building codes, Larson said.
Farmworkers are unlikely to complain to authorities about their living conditions, Larson said, because they may not speak English or trust officials.
SOLUTIONS
The loss of $20 million earmarked for farmworker housing hurts the state’s efforts to provide safe, affordable housing for migrants. But officials with the Florida Housing Finance Corporation have found $10 million they said will go to migrant housing this year.
“We’re looking to make this money available sometime soon,” said Ian Smith, an organization spokesman.
Peter Routis-Arroyo, president of Catholic Charities of the Diocese of Venice, said his group runs across deplorable living conditions of migrant workers daily but answers are hard to come by.
Catholic Charities works with other groups to build migrant housing.
“There are no easy solutions,” he said. Company invests in suitable camps for workers By JEFF CULL & CHRISTINA CEPERO While two labor camps in Lee County have been described as "unlivable," others offer better conditions.
Six L's Packing Company in Immokalee spends about $1 million per year to maintain a labor camp off Corkscrew Road in Estero, said Toby Purse, the company's chief financial officer. Workers live rent-free in modern barracks with bathrooms, showers, kitchens and satellite television. The grounds sport a soccer field and basketball court and are spotless.
It's just good business, said David Lipman, one of the owners of Six L's, which has several farms along the east coast.
"This is a labor intensive business," Lipman said. "This gives us a competitive advantage. It's good for them, and it's good for us." Marco Lopez, 24, who arrived from Chiapas, Mexico, five months ago, is one of 35 men living at Six L's.
He said he's happy with his living situation. From October to May, 180 to 200 men live there, and a lot of them come back every year, crew leader John Mendiola said.
Just outside Bonita Springs, the Saldivar Big Camp on Bonita Beach Road can hold as many as 235 migrants and their families.
Amelia V3/8zquez, 31, her husband and two children moved there about a month ago from Georgia. They are originally from Mexico. Her husband got a job at a nursery in Golden Gate. She said living conditions are fine, but the rent is a little expensive. They pay $650 per month for a three-bedroom trailer.
Aurora Rodriguez, 37, has lived at Saldivar for six years. She and her husband have four daughters and would like a place of their own. "We're interested in a house, but there are too many requirements," she said.
Her husband works at a nearby nursery. They live in a two-bedroom unit and pay $600 per month.
Charleston Park Apartments near State Road 80 in Alva is run by the Lee County Housing Authority. Eighteen of the duplex apartments are reserved for migrants. Residents, mainly families, pay as little as $418 per month for a two-bedroom duplex unit, resident manager Elaria Herrera said. Many of the units recently have been remodeled. |