'‘I’ve Seen Too Many Accidents’: The Perils of Deliverymen' diff viewer (0/1)

This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on August 17, 2018 10:12 (UTC). It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.nytimes.com/2018/08/17/nyregion/the-dangerous-lives-of-the-citys-delivereros.html

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Previous version 1 Next version

Previous version 1 Next version

Version 0	Version 1
~~The Dangerous Lives of the City’s ‘Delivereros’~~	‘I’ve Seen Too Many Accidents’: The Perils of Deliverymen
2018-08-17 10:15:15 UTC	2018-08-17 17:05:23 UTC (about 7 hours later)
It would be difficult to find a bicycle deliveryman in New York who doesn’t know the story of Edwin Vicente Ajacalon. He was a 14-year-old boy who lived in the city for about a year, having come to the United States illegally and unaccompanied from rural Guatemala, where he’d finished sixth grade and helped his parents work the fields.	It would be difficult to find a bicycle deliveryman in New York who doesn’t know the story of Edwin Vicente Ajacalon. He was a 14-year-old boy who lived in the city for about a year, having come to the United States illegally and unaccompanied from rural Guatemala, where he’d finished sixth grade and helped his parents work the fields.
He did not continue his schooling in New York, however. Instead, he worked as a deliveryman for various Brooklyn restaurants, living with five roommates whom he’d met on the job, in a small apartment in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. During his free time, he played soccer in the park, listened to Guatemalan pop and talked about the day when he’d return home and build a house for his family.	He did not continue his schooling in New York, however. Instead, he worked as a deliveryman for various Brooklyn restaurants, living with five roommates whom he’d met on the job, in a small apartment in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. During his free time, he played soccer in the park, listened to Guatemalan pop and talked about the day when he’d return home and build a house for his family.
Then, on Nov. 25, right before 6 p.m., while riding his bike along 23rd Street in South Slope, he was hit by a southbound BMW sedan at Fifth Avenue. Even though the driver had the green light, surveillance video shows his car entering the intersection at high speed.	Then, on Nov. 25, right before 6 p.m., while riding his bike along 23rd Street in South Slope, he was hit by a southbound BMW sedan at Fifth Avenue. Even though the driver had the green light, surveillance video shows his car entering the intersection at high speed.
When police officers arrived at the scene, they found Edwin unconscious. He was transported to NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital in Park Slope, where he was pronounced dead from multiple blunt impact injuries. Local news broadcasts showed the car had knocked Edwin right out of his Nikes.	When police officers arrived at the scene, they found Edwin unconscious. He was transported to NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital in Park Slope, where he was pronounced dead from multiple blunt impact injuries. Local news broadcasts showed the car had knocked Edwin right out of his Nikes.
The driver was issued a summons for speeding, but no criminal charges were brought against him. According to the city’s Department of Transportation, 24 cyclists died and 4,397 were injured last year in motor vehicle crashes. Earlier this month, a young Australian tourist on a bicycle was fatally hit by a garbage truck on Central Park West, becoming the ninth cyclist to die in a traffic collision this year. But very few of these episodes result in criminal charges.	The driver was issued a summons for speeding, but no criminal charges were brought against him. According to the city’s Department of Transportation, 24 cyclists died and 4,397 were injured last year in motor vehicle crashes. Earlier this month, a young Australian tourist on a bicycle was fatally hit by a garbage truck on Central Park West, becoming the ninth cyclist to die in a traffic collision this year. But very few of these episodes result in criminal charges.
Edwin’s death did resonate across New York’s Hispanic community, in Guatemala and among groups fighting to improve the working conditions of undocumented immigrants here. Few felt it deeper than Edwin’s thousands of fellow deliverymen, some of whom couldn’t help but draw parallels between the “jovencito de Guatemala” — “the youngster from Guatemala,” as they call him — and their personal stories.	Edwin’s death did resonate across New York’s Hispanic community, in Guatemala and among groups fighting to improve the working conditions of undocumented immigrants here. Few felt it deeper than Edwin’s thousands of fellow deliverymen, some of whom couldn’t help but draw parallels between the “jovencito de Guatemala” — “the youngster from Guatemala,” as they call him — and their personal stories.
Like Edwin, these young men are constantly faced with the physical dangers, strenuous hours and facelessness of the job. But they also, like other aspirational New Yorkers, are balancing their gigs with why they came to the city in the first place: a better life. For them this means, besides making money, dining on chicken wings and piña coladas in Times Square, or going to superhero movies or heavy-metal stadium concerts, or taking photographs from the Brooklyn Bridge.	Like Edwin, these young men are constantly faced with the physical dangers, strenuous hours and facelessness of the job. But they also, like other aspirational New Yorkers, are balancing their gigs with why they came to the city in the first place: a better life. For them this means, besides making money, dining on chicken wings and piña coladas in Times Square, or going to superhero movies or heavy-metal stadium concerts, or taking photographs from the Brooklyn Bridge.
With the immigration debate taking center stage this summer in a city that’s seen a pizza deliveryman turned over to Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers, the threat of deportation has become increasingly real. At the same time, the outpouring of public support for undocumented New Yorkers facing expulsion has also brought a certain amount of recognition toward those who work the often thankless and dangerous job of meal delivery.	With the immigration debate taking center stage this summer in a city that’s seen a pizza deliveryman turned over to Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers, the threat of deportation has become increasingly real. At the same time, the outpouring of public support for undocumented New Yorkers facing expulsion has also brought a certain amount of recognition toward those who work the often thankless and dangerous job of meal delivery.
Recently some deliverymen agreed to discuss the nature of their jobs with The New York Times. They all requested that their last names be withheld because of their immigration status.	Recently some deliverymen agreed to discuss the nature of their jobs with The New York Times. They all requested that their last names be withheld because of their immigration status.
“I’ve seen too many accidents, and each time I think, ‘This could have been me,’” said Fabián, a 21-year-old deliveryman from Mexico who donated money to Edwin’s parents in Guatemala. Fabián vividly remembered the first time a driver, opening his car door, knocked him off his bike.	“I’ve seen too many accidents, and each time I think, ‘This could have been me,’” said Fabián, a 21-year-old deliveryman from Mexico who donated money to Edwin’s parents in Guatemala. Fabián vividly remembered the first time a driver, opening his car door, knocked him off his bike.
“He looked down, saw me and left without even asking if I was fine,” he recalled in Spanish.	“He looked down, saw me and left without even asking if I was fine,” he recalled in Spanish.
A co-worker once dislocated his arm after being hit by a car. According to Fabián, their employer, a Midtown Manhattan restaurant, refused to pay for medical expenses. This is standard treatment for “delivereros,” he said. “The restaurant just told him: ‘When you feel better, you can go back to work.’”	A co-worker once dislocated his arm after being hit by a car. According to Fabián, their employer, a Midtown Manhattan restaurant, refused to pay for medical expenses. This is standard treatment for “delivereros,” he said. “The restaurant just told him: ‘When you feel better, you can go back to work.’”
Like Edwin, Fabián came here illegally and immediately started working. He was 16 then, and had come to New York to reunite with his father. It took him two weeks to reach the city. He hid from “la migra” (the United States Border Patrol) while climbing the border fence along Arizona with a group of migrants assembled by his smugglers. They walked for days across the rocky desert until they reached Tucson, where he was ordered to hide in the back of a truck. After another three days on the road and only one meal — “a small McDonald’s hamburger” — Fabián arrived in New York, only to discover that his father had a new family here and that he was not welcome in their home.	Like Edwin, Fabián came here illegally and immediately started working. He was 16 then, and had come to New York to reunite with his father. It took him two weeks to reach the city. He hid from “la migra” (the United States Border Patrol) while climbing the border fence along Arizona with a group of migrants assembled by his smugglers. They walked for days across the rocky desert until they reached Tucson, where he was ordered to hide in the back of a truck. After another three days on the road and only one meal — “a small McDonald’s hamburger” — Fabián arrived in New York, only to discover that his father had a new family here and that he was not welcome in their home.
Some cousins from Queens found him a delivery job, one of the most accessible ways to earn a living for immigrants who do not speak English and have no documentation. This allowed Fabián to repay his father the $8,000 lent to him to pay the smugglers, while regularly wiring whatever extra money he could to his mother in Mexico.	Some cousins from Queens found him a delivery job, one of the most accessible ways to earn a living for immigrants who do not speak English and have no documentation. This allowed Fabián to repay his father the $8,000 lent to him to pay the smugglers, while regularly wiring whatever extra money he could to his mother in Mexico.
At the restaurant in Midtown where he has been working ever since, Fabián makes $8.75 an hour — about the minimum wage for tipped food service workers. Cash tips don’t add that much to his hourly rate. On a delivery in the 15-to-20 block range, even if the weather is disagreeable or dangerous, it isn’t rare for him to make just $1 per trip. When customers use food delivery apps like Seamless that make it easy to include a 15 or 20 percent tip, many of them choose the “no tip” option.	At the restaurant in Midtown where he has been working ever since, Fabián makes $8.75 an hour — about the minimum wage for tipped food service workers. Cash tips don’t add that much to his hourly rate. On a delivery in the 15-to-20 block range, even if the weather is disagreeable or dangerous, it isn’t rare for him to make just $1 per trip. When customers use food delivery apps like Seamless that make it easy to include a 15 or 20 percent tip, many of them choose the “no tip” option.
On a recent lunch shift, Fabián was just coming out of a building after a food delivery near Grand Central Terminal when it started raining. Without hesitating, he mounted his black Cannondale and began wending through the torrent of cars on 42nd Street toward his next drop-off location.	On a recent lunch shift, Fabián was just coming out of a building after a food delivery near Grand Central Terminal when it started raining. Without hesitating, he mounted his black Cannondale and began wending through the torrent of cars on 42nd Street toward his next drop-off location.
Upon arrival, he waited, half-soaked in the office building’s entrance on Madison Avenue. Minutes later, a man wearing a suit came out of the elevator and swiftly took the plastic bag out of his hands, without tipping him.	Upon arrival, he waited, half-soaked in the office building’s entrance on Madison Avenue. Minutes later, a man wearing a suit came out of the elevator and swiftly took the plastic bag out of his hands, without tipping him.
“It happens fairly often,” Fabián said after the incident. He used to clock as many as 12 hours a day, six days a week at his restaurant, which specializes in locally sourced American food.	“It happens fairly often,” Fabián said after the incident. He used to clock as many as 12 hours a day, six days a week at his restaurant, which specializes in locally sourced American food.
To blow off steam after his shift, Fabián often meets his five best friends — all deliverymen or construction workers — for cocktails at Dallas BBQ in Times Square. Sometimes they go to an action movie at the Regal multiplex next door — “I now understand 80 percent of the dialogue,” Fabián said.	To blow off steam after his shift, Fabián often meets his five best friends — all deliverymen or construction workers — for cocktails at Dallas BBQ in Times Square. Sometimes they go to an action movie at the Regal multiplex next door — “I now understand 80 percent of the dialogue,” Fabián said.
Other nights, he wanders the city with his old Nikon digital camera to take artistic pictures, often stopping at the Brooklyn Bridge. He edits his shots on his smartphone, sharing his favorite ones with his friends. And while he finds New York’s pace relentless, Fabián said he loves it here.	Other nights, he wanders the city with his old Nikon digital camera to take artistic pictures, often stopping at the Brooklyn Bridge. He edits his shots on his smartphone, sharing his favorite ones with his friends. And while he finds New York’s pace relentless, Fabián said he loves it here.
“Provided that you work and make money, life is good,” he said.	“Provided that you work and make money, life is good,” he said.
The plethora of recent reports that ICE officers are clamping down on illegal immigrants, including in New York, hasn’t changed his perspective.	The plethora of recent reports that ICE officers are clamping down on illegal immigrants, including in New York, hasn’t changed his perspective.
“I know I’m in this country illegally and there’s a risk to be deported any day,” he said in July. “Even if Trump wasn’t president, the risk would still exist, unless I become legal.”	“I know I’m in this country illegally and there’s a risk to be deported any day,” he said in July. “Even if Trump wasn’t president, the risk would still exist, unless I become legal.”
In an unexpected way, he argued, a case like that of Pablo Villavicencio Calderon, the undocumented pizza deliveryman who was turned over to ICE while delivering an order to a Brooklyn Army base in June, and held for almost eight weeks before being freed by a judge, has helped raise awareness.	In an unexpected way, he argued, a case like that of Pablo Villavicencio Calderon, the undocumented pizza deliveryman who was turned over to ICE while delivering an order to a Brooklyn Army base in June, and held for almost eight weeks before being freed by a judge, has helped raise awareness.
“Oftentime, people treat us poorly — the streets are dangerous, the cars don’t pay attention to us — but with the news coming out, they’re starting to consider us a bit more,” Fabián said. “They’re realizing we’re actual people.”	“Oftentime, people treat us poorly — the streets are dangerous, the cars don’t pay attention to us — but with the news coming out, they’re starting to consider us a bit more,” Fabián said. “They’re realizing we’re actual people.”
Conversely, the outcry triggered by Mr. Villavicencio’s arrest made Fabián realize he wasn’t as isolated as he thought. That said, the news of children being seized and separated from their parents at the border took a bigger toll on him, bringing back memories of his ordeal crossing the border.	Conversely, the outcry triggered by Mr. Villavicencio’s arrest made Fabián realize he wasn’t as isolated as he thought. That said, the news of children being seized and separated from their parents at the border took a bigger toll on him, bringing back memories of his ordeal crossing the border.
“When you walk in the desert without any family to care for you, you’re just terrorized of getting shot or running out of food and water,” Fabián said.	“When you walk in the desert without any family to care for you, you’re just terrorized of getting shot or running out of food and water,” Fabián said.
But far from being discouraged, Fabián said the current political climate motivates him even more to show that undocumented immigrants can elevate themselves. He is currently studying for his G.E.D., and has ambitions to go to college to study either marketing or video editing — he isn’t sure yet which subject. But he does know he wants out of the delivery business.	But far from being discouraged, Fabián said the current political climate motivates him even more to show that undocumented immigrants can elevate themselves. He is currently studying for his G.E.D., and has ambitions to go to college to study either marketing or video editing — he isn’t sure yet which subject. But he does know he wants out of the delivery business.
“It’s too risky a job,” he said.	“It’s too risky a job,” he said.
Arguably, delivery workers are at the bottom of the food chain in terms of safety and employment status.	Arguably, delivery workers are at the bottom of the food chain in terms of safety and employment status.
According to Brian O’Dwyer, a partner at the New York personal injury law firm O’Dwyer & Bernstien, if a deliveryman — regardless of citizenship — is injured or killed on the job, his sole recourse is workers’ compensation from his employer’s insurance.	According to Brian O’Dwyer, a partner at the New York personal injury law firm O’Dwyer & Bernstien, if a deliveryman — regardless of citizenship — is injured or killed on the job, his sole recourse is workers’ compensation from his employer’s insurance.
Of course, if a deliveryman is hit by a car on the job and the driver is at fault, he can sue the driver in court on his own. This rarely happens, though, because undocumented deliverymen are scared, isolated and, according to Mr. O’Dwyer, often happen to be the ones at fault. Meanwhile, he added, the family of a deceased construction worker — another profession drawing undocumented immigrants but with a strong union affiliation that contributes to a more worker-friendly environment — can get millions in settlement money by suing the general contractor or the owner of the construction site, who, unlike a restaurant’s landlord, are required by law to provide employees with a safe work environment.	Of course, if a deliveryman is hit by a car on the job and the driver is at fault, he can sue the driver in court on his own. This rarely happens, though, because undocumented deliverymen are scared, isolated and, according to Mr. O’Dwyer, often happen to be the ones at fault. Meanwhile, he added, the family of a deceased construction worker — another profession drawing undocumented immigrants but with a strong union affiliation that contributes to a more worker-friendly environment — can get millions in settlement money by suing the general contractor or the owner of the construction site, who, unlike a restaurant’s landlord, are required by law to provide employees with a safe work environment.
“Lawyers want these cases because they are very lucrative,” said Mr. O’Dwyer, adding that, for the opposite reason, firms tend to turn down undocumented deliverymen cases, which may be worth only $50,000 for a fatal accident on the job.	“Lawyers want these cases because they are very lucrative,” said Mr. O’Dwyer, adding that, for the opposite reason, firms tend to turn down undocumented deliverymen cases, which may be worth only $50,000 for a fatal accident on the job.
It was a sentiment echoed during one of Fabián’s weekly G.E.D. classes held in the offices of the Asociación Tepeyac de New York, an education and advocacy group working with Latin American immigrants. Fabián was there with one of his four roommates, Isaía, 21, who works in construction.	It was a sentiment echoed during one of Fabián’s weekly G.E.D. classes held in the offices of the Asociación Tepeyac de New York, an education and advocacy group working with Latin American immigrants. Fabián was there with one of his four roommates, Isaía, 21, who works in construction.
“If Fabián dies, he isn’t worth much,” deadpanned Joel Magallan, the founder of Asociación Tepeyac. A former Jesuit who used to work for the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of New York as its liaison to Mexican immigrants, Mr. Magallan helped organize Mexican workers’ protests against abusive restaurant owners in the late 1990s.	“If Fabián dies, he isn’t worth much,” deadpanned Joel Magallan, the founder of Asociación Tepeyac. A former Jesuit who used to work for the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of New York as its liaison to Mexican immigrants, Mr. Magallan helped organize Mexican workers’ protests against abusive restaurant owners in the late 1990s.
“Now that’s discrimination!” Fabián said, triggering bursts of laughter among the other students.	“Now that’s discrimination!” Fabián said, triggering bursts of laughter among the other students.
“Isaía’s life is just more valuable,” Mr. Magallan went on, prompting another round of laughter, while pointing to the shy-looking student bent over his textbook.	“Isaía’s life is just more valuable,” Mr. Magallan went on, prompting another round of laughter, while pointing to the shy-looking student bent over his textbook.
Isaía used to work as a deliveryman. About a year ago, he said, he was entering an intersection on his bike when he almost got hit by a car. For him, it was a turning point.	Isaía used to work as a deliveryman. About a year ago, he said, he was entering an intersection on his bike when he almost got hit by a car. For him, it was a turning point.