Agriculture

Special Report: ‘Dark days’ at the Cutchogue labor camp

Housing for migrant workers at the camp is viewed by a member of a visiting legislative group in February 1968. (Credit: Robert Walker photo courtesy of The New York Times)
Housing for migrant workers at the camp is viewed by a member of a visiting legislative group in February 1968. (Credit: Robert Walker photo courtesy of The New York Times)

The Zuhoskis did what they could to help the workers on their farm.

Ms. Zuhoski struck up a friendship with one of the mothers who lived temporarily at the camp. After the migrant family moved into a nearby house, Ms. Zuhoski would take the black couple’s three children to Catholic Mass every Sunday.

They were all baptized in the church, with Ms. Zuhoski as their godmother.

The Zuhoskis said farmers at the time knew little about camp conditions or details of the alleged abuses there — only rumors. One pervasive story was that the crew leader would beat migrants who stepped out of line.

“He was awfully mean,” Mr. Zuhoski said. “He treated his help bad.”

But at the time, his wife said, the farmers had other concerns. They had farms to run, cauliflower to pick, fruit auctions to manage.

“We didn’t think much of it,” she admitted. “We needed help and they were right there … It wasn’t really a thought.”

Henry Domaleski, now in his mid-80s, employed some migrant workers from the camp on his Cutchogue farm at the time.

He said he knew the crew leader was harsh but didn’t know the full extent of what was going on until after the camp closed.

“They were like slaves,” Mr. Domaleski said. “Sometimes the head guy who was the crew leader, he would beat the s— out of them.”

It was only after documentaries and media attention revealed conditions at the camp that farmers took the situation seriously, Ms. Zuhoski said.

Some, like Mr. Domaleski, believe there was nothing that could have been done. He said he doesn’t have regrets about the situation. The farmers, he noted, were in a tight spot, too.

Mr. Domaleski said farmers weren’t making enough money to raise salaries at the time and that there were no wage protections that would have forced farmers to pay their help more.

The farmers really just needed cheap labor, he said, and the crew leader at the Cutchogue camp provided it in abundance.

“The co-op had to make a deal with that guy [the crew leader],” Mr. Domaleski said. “There were no labor laws then. The [farmers] paid what the hell they wanted to pay.”

The Zuhoskis said they would have spoken up had they fully understood what was going on at the camp at the time.

“I’m sure most of the farmers would have said something,” Ms. Zuhoski said. “I can’t imagine a bunch of people living like that.”