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After jobs move out, hunger takes root in
factory town
MSN/NBCNEWS.COM
Wed Jul 3, 2013 9:01 AM EDT
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Cliff Lambeth, right, checks individual bags to make sure each contains a sandwich, juice, fruit and a dessert
for the bag lunches He Cares distributes.
Mike Turner assembles sandwiches to be distributed in the next few hours. Before all of the 300 sandwiches
were made, the volunteers ran out of meat, causing them to go back into the sandwiches and cut every slice
in half.
By Spencer Bakalar, NBC News Contributor
It is difficult to ignore the six abandoned and crumbling factories that dot the landscape
surrounding Main Street in Thomasville, N.C. Less than a half-mile away from the faded
storefronts, children race in the shadows of broken window panes, past the empty
lumberyards that once brought the town to life.
More than 100 years ago, Thomasville was the furniture industry hub of North Carolina. It
was the type of town that created generational jobs where grandfathers, fathers and sons
could each work and prosper, knowing that the opportunity for employment would be there
for years to come.
"It's all a lot of people ever knew," said Mike Turner, founder of He Cares, an outreach
ministry in Thomasville that distributes bag lunches and food boxes to the community.
In the past 15 years, however, the town of roughly 27,000 people has lost more than 5,000
manufacturing jobs. Companies like century-old Thomasville Furniture Industries, Inc.,
Duracell, and others downsized, relocated or closed.
Edward McClatchen gives bags to a family in the poorest apartment complex in Thomasville. "This is the last
stop before the streets," says Mike Turner.
From 2007-2010 alone, unemployment spiked from 5.5 to 13.5 percent. Today, with an
unemployment rate of 9.1 percent, Thomasville still ranks higher than the state and
nationwide averages.
Mike Turner was laid off in 2005 from Thomasville Furniture, but found factory work in
nearby town, much like many of his former co-workers.
"All of those guys were struggling," said Turner. "Some of them didn't even know how to read
or write. Furniture was all they knew."
Spencer Bakalar
Edward McClatchen, left, and Mike Turner, right, pray with Frank Hill, center. Frank lives alone, but looks
forward to seeing Turner every week. "No matter when I see him, no matter what is happening to him, he is
always smiling," said Turner.
The town’s economic hardship has since translated into a hunger problem. It touches those
who cannot find work, those who are sick, single-parent households, traditional households,
the elderly, and children.
And despite the best efforts of Turner, and other local organizations, sparse food donations,
unapproved grants, and inadequate funding have made it difficult to provide enough food for
the growing number of needy families.
Changing face of hunger
Terri Nelson has seen a huge increase in the number of people coming to
Thomasville’sFairgrove Family Resource Center: from 50 people a month to more than
1,000 in the decade she has worked there.
"The face of hunger has changed,” she said. “Children are most affected because of the
economy. Their parents can't find jobs, and if they do find jobs, they work as hard as they
can and never make enough."
It’s a feeling Jennifer Beck Powell knows well. A 34-year-old single mom with four kids,
Powell lives in Thomasville, where the grim employment prospects forced her to look
elsewhere.
Like Turner, she found another job 10 miles away, in High Point.
Jennifer takes a break during her shift.
Every morning she wakes up at 4 a.m. to take her children to school so she can arrive at
Swaim Furniture on time for her 6 a.m. shift.
At the end of the day, after 11 hours on her feet, she picks up her kids from daycare and
goes home to help them with homework and cook. Because Powell often works through her
10-minute lunch break, dinner is the first big meal of the day.
Spencer Bakalar
After dinner, Caleb, 11, Abriana, 10, and Macy Jeffrey, 16, wait on Jennifer to help them with homework.
Sleep doesn't come until close to 11 p.m., and the next day begins five hours later.
Living paycheck to paycheck, with inconsistent child support from the fathers of her children,
leaves little leftover for necessities like food.
After paying for daycare at the end of the month, "it just makes you sick seeing how fast it
goes away," said Powell.
Spencer Bakalar
Jennifer takes a quick break after getting home from a workday.
‘Always breaking even’
Prior to working at Swaim Furniture, Powell was making $10 an hour. Her pay has increased
to $13 an hour, but because of this, her food stamps have been reduced by more than $200
a month.
Spencer Bakalar
Jacobie Powell pieces together his dinner while playing with his cars.
She receives lunch bags every Saturday and food boxes once a month through Turner's
nonprofit, He Cares. But it's not always enough, and by the end of the month the food supply
is running low.
“Now that it’s summertime it’s even harder,” said Powell. “This week I have the whole week
off. All the kids are home and we have no food or any money to even do…simple things like
go swim at the lake where it’s free. It still takes gas to get there and I can’t take a bunch of
kids somewhere with no food, drinks or snacks for them.”
The Powells are just one family among millions across the U.S. who cannot seem to break
the cycle of poverty and hunger.
"For a few years I really had no idea where I was going to get food for my kids," Powell said.
"I'm thankful for my new job, but I can never get ahead. I'm always breaking even."
Spencer Bakalar
Because she is overdue on daycare payments, Jennifer negotiates with the daycare to see how much of her
current paycheck she has to give up.
Spencer Bakalar
Joshua Gutierrez, 11, races with Juisten Anderson through their front yard. Gutierrez and Anderson live
across the street from the former Thomasville Furniture lumber yard, long out of use and falling down.