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After greeting Vazquez in Spanish, Lamb asked how he had gotten out of jail. Vazquez said he was awaiting a hearing and in the meantime was hoping to return to work at the plant. Vazquez told Lamb he had bought a Social Security card (for $1,000) as well as a birth certificate (no price was mentioned) and with those was able to obtain an ID card from South Dakota. Lamb looked over the documents and said they appeared legitimate. Lamb told Vazquez he no longer conducted job interviews but offered some advice: Vazquez should know which state his Social Security card came from and say he'd heard about the Marshalltown job while working in South Dakota. Later in their conversation, Lamb said that if for some reason he did have to interview Vazquez, he would be unable to help. He said everyone knew they had worked together and that if he gave Vazquez a job they would be in jail together. Two days later another Swift human resources manager rehired Vazquez.
When Vazquez returned to Lamb's home on June 25, Lamb expressed nervousness about their previous conversation. Lamb said people at work were asking how Memo (Vazquez's nickname) had gotten out of jail. Many suspected he was helping immigration set a trap. Then, according to the summary of their conversation: "Lamb stated rhetorically, 'If you have problems with me, damn!'" Vazquez assured Lamb he didn't, but Lamb remained agitated. Then, using the Spanish term for the immigration authorities, Lamb asked: "Where's the Migra?"
On July 10, Lamb was arrested on his way to work. He was taken from his car, handcuffed, and driven to the federal courthouse in Des Moines, where he was charged with harboring an illegal alien and covering up a felony. Then he was released to await his trial. Three weeks later, according to Lamb's lawyer, Christopher A. Clausen, his client was fired from Swift for discussing hiring practices outside the office (a possible reference to the taped conversation). Lamb now works on the production line at a company that makes cardboard containers. His wife remains a Swift employee. Clausen says Lamb is waiting for an offer from the prosecutor and hoping to avoid jail time. As to the question of Lamb's cooperation with ICE, Clausen says: "I can't confirm or deny that."
Pereyra is still employed by Swift, according to his lawyer. He no longer works for Local 1149, although the union has filed a court brief supporting him. Jill Cashen, a spokesperson for the union, says: "We can't discriminate by asking to see someone's papers. We shouldn't do that, and it's not our legal responsibility. Are we all supposed to be the immigration police?"
As ICE presses companies more forcefully, employers may find themselves in a bind: scrutinizing new hires with greater care while being sensitive about potentially discriminatory practices. (Swift, in fact, paid almost $200,000 in 2002 to settle a claim that a Minnesota plant had engaged in discriminatory hiring practices against U.S. citizens who looked or sounded "foreign." Swift did not admit guilt.)
In May, Swift announced the raids had cost it at least $45 million because of the disruption to production and the expense of additional recruiting and training. Arnold, the ICE special agent, says the raids were never about Swift: "Our enforcement action was to address a large number of employees engaged in identity theft who happened to be employed at Swift." But, he continues, "Swift has substantially revamped their hiring practices as a result of the raid. Everyone learns from these cases."
In a Dec. 15 story, "Immigration and the Presidential Race: Cooking Up a Row," The Economist calls the rise of illegal immigration as an election issue "one of the most remarkable changes in American politics in recent decades." The subject has become red-hot, the publication says, dangerous to any candidate who touches it. That's because Americans are ambivalent: proud of the country's immigrant-friendly history but worried about the economic impact of immigration.
Berfield is an associate editor at BusinessWeek .