Fates of two towns, two companies hinge on immigration

GUYMON — On a recent weekday, at least five of this agricultural community's hotels were booked. Room rates ranged from $54 — for motor lodge-like accommodations — to $80 at the Comfort Inn.

A block behind U.S. 54, makeshift campgrounds were also full. Some RVs carried heat-seeking snowbirds. Most campers were construction crews from as far away as New Mexico. Seaboard Farms already employs about half the 10,000-person town. The out-of-state construction crews were in Guymon to help build a bio-diesel plant for the company.

"I'm grateful for Seaboard,” said Judy Beasley, of Guymon, who manages a local restaurant there. "If it weren't for Seaboard, Guymon would be a ghost town. Guymon would be just like Hooker.”

Guymon is booming. Just 18 miles northeast on U.S. 54 is Hooker, population 1,733. Its downtown, just three blocks long, is empty. Out-of-business signs cover the fronts of a dozen businesses.

In the high plains of the Panhandle, many rural agricultural communities like Hooker and Guymon struggle to reinvent themselves. In some cases, immigrant workers and the industries that employ them have been the difference between boom and bust.

Here, immigration is not just about politics. It's about opportunity, economic development and change. It's about survival.

Hooker, like many rural Southwest communities, is aging. It's diminished a bit further with each funeral. Children grow up and move away, few return. Those who remain commute for work: Some off to Guymon to work at Seaboard, others to Liberal, Kan., to work at National Beef.

There, hopes of reversing the trend of dwindling population and commerce has hinged on immigration.

Plans dry up

Smithfield Foods had planned to open a meatpacking plant in Hooker. It would have brought revenue, about 3,500 employees just to work the plant, and up to as many as 10,000 new community residents.

A few months ago, however, Smithfield abruptly shelved those plans. Company officials stopped returning phone calls from Hooker city leaders about the same time its North Carolina meat plant was busted in a massive Immigration and Customs Enforcement raid.

Recently, a message appeared on the company Web site about indefinitely delaying construction in Hooker and blaming the delays on "worker shortages.”

Industry experts and Panhandle residents assume it is immigration worries that have Smithfield jumping ship.

"Here, we have an unemployment rate of less than 2 percent, so those workers had to come from somewhere,” Assistant Police Chief Raymond Holbert said. "They're just not here.”

Within the past few years, Hooker has watched several businesses close their doors, including the lumber yard, a few insurance companies, a construction firm and a furniture store.

Commuting for everything

"Some went away, and some just died,” said Hooker City Clerk Linda Holbert, who is married to Raymond Holbert. "We've been trying really hard to bring in business.”

These days, residents find themselves commuting for just about everything other than groceries and religion. Hooker is still home to one grocery store and three churches.

During the time that Smithfield was courting the town, however, the phone at City Hall was ringing off the hook. There were inquiries from national chain restaurants and retailers, all looking to purchase or lease commercial space in Hooker.

When federal immigration officers raided that North Carolina plant, it all came to a screeching halt.

City leaders reluctantly are continuing to prepare for Smithfield's arrival, but many are now skeptical.