Six of the company's fired workers interviewed at a protest outside the Vernon plant last week insisted that their Social Security numbers were legitimate.
"My Social Security number was good all these years, why is it suddenly no good now?" asked Eva Macias, a 19-year veteran of Overhill Farms. "We left our youth in that plant."
The ousted workers held signs proclaiming that they were not "disposable." Passing truckers honked their horns in solidarity in a heavily industrialized zone where Latino immigrants constitute much of the labor force. Employees in white laboratory coats and hairnets observed from the factory grounds during their breaks from the assembly line, where they fill trays of frozen food that are shipped to supermarkets and fast-food outlets.
One after another, the ex-workers lamented losing a steady job, even if it paid only $10 an hour, the average salary. All spoke of bleak prospects for finding alternative work in a shrinking economy.
Many have been in the United States for a decade or more and have U.S.-born children. They see no option of returning to Mexico and its enduring lack of opportunity and social mobility. They worry about missing rent payments, being unable to pay medical bills and having no money for food.
"I'm already a month behind on the rent," said Gabriel Cruz, 28, a father of two from Compton. "It's not an easy time to find work right now."
Overhill is a rare union shop in an overwhelmingly nonunion industry, but that hasn't made much difference for the fired workers. The plant's union has demanded that an independent arbitrator hear their case. But such a session can take months to arrange.
"We're talking here about hundreds of families that have been denied a gainful wage, denied medical care," said Grant, the union official. "This basically tears apart an entire community."
patrick.mcdonnell@latimes.com
