Md. Poultry Farmer’s Struggle Featured in New Film

Morison Claims Contract Terminated Because of Cooperation with Filmmakers

Tracy Sutton
Zone Editor

Poultry farmer Carole Morison took it as a bad sign one September when she received a letter intended for a dead man.

The letter was from poultry company Perdue Farms, Inc. threatening to terminate the contract of a Mr. John Morison on the grounds of failure to comply with biosecurity practices. There were several problems with this. First, John Morison (Carole Morison’s father-in-law) had been dead for five years, during the period of the alleged biosecurity infractions. Second, when alive, John Morison hadn’t been a poultry farmer for several years. Third, back in the day when John Morison was a poultry farmer, he had never signed a contract with Perdue Farms.

“It was just so insulting,” said Morison. “They didn’t even know who they’re talking to.”

The letter was, however, very clear that the Morisons’ farm had broken the rules. Dated September 6, 2007, the letter stated:

"It has come to our attention, and we have indisputable evidence, that there have been several recent occasions where visitors have been on your farm and in your poultry houses in clear violation of your Farm’s Poultry Producer Agreement, your farm’s Farm Biosecurity Plan and Perdue’s established mandatory Biosecurity procedures. Specifically these visitors were on-site without signing the visitor log or without wearing the proper Biosecurity clothing. As stated in Perdue’s Biosecurity “Dedicated To’s” and “Never Evers” all visitors coming onto a farm must comply with the dress policy and sign the visitor log.”

The visitors in question? Robert Kenner and Elise Pearlstein, filmmakers from Food, Inc., a film that is being released this week and is a withering critique of the nation’s food systems.

Morison, a poultry farmer for 23 years in Pocomoke City, Md., on the Delmarva peninsula where her husband’s family has farmed for generations, was interviewed for the film. Carole Morison has long been an outspoken critic of the poultry industry and what she believes are the undue burdens farmers face when under contract with national suppliers, like Perdue.

Years ago, when Morison began farming, she said the contracts were “much better” and more favorable to farmers. But now, she says, the relationship has transformed to one of extremes — increasing annual production rates, an ever shifting list of production requirements that farmers must shoulder the costs for, and diminishing profits.

In Morison’s opinion, “The companies are just pushing more and more of the costs on to farmers. When you’re making the same or less money than you were making years ago, but investing more in your farm? You know something is wrong.”

“The bottom line is the dollar,” said Morison. “(The companies) lost all their respect for the community and the people farming.”

Carole and Frank Morison’s Birds Eye View Farm is small by most poultry farm standards. They have two broiler houses, about 40’ x 500’ that each house around 27,000 chickens. “That works out to around .75 square foot per chicken” — a diminishing amount of space that disturbs Morison. However, Birds Eye View Farm had an open-walled house with a curtained ventilation system so the birds could get fresh air and sunshine.

Over the years, said Morison, a “conglomeration of things” began to erode her relationship with Perdue. According to Morison, Perdue threatened to terminate her contract many times, for practices that she found contradictory and maddening.

Perdue had erected a mailbox on their farm as part of its biosecurity requirements, with a log book to sign visitors in and out of.

On June 25, 2007 the Food Inc. film crew was at the farm. On that day, the Perdue flock supervisor happened to stop by and observed people on the farm with no biosecurity protection. He noted the infraction to his superiors at Perdue and that the visitors had not signed the Perdue log book.

However, according to Morison, in July 2007 she had her grandson visiting and the Perdue flock supervisor observed her taking him to the chicken house to see the baby chicks.

She was not reprimanded for this.

According to Perdue’s biosecurity procedures, any non-resident visitor, regardless of family relationship, must sign the visitor log book and wear the proper biosecurity clothing.

“I even went so far as asking Perdue to write me up on this violation as well, however they wouldn’t do it,” said Morison.

She also asked Perdue why the feed truck drivers and Perdue livehaul truck drivers did not sign the visitor log when coming on the farm.

Morison says she was told by Perdue that they didn’t have to sign the visitor log.

According to Morison, “Perdue decided, as they saw fit, who would be considered as a biosecurity violation. If they didn’t like who the visitor was, it would be a violation. On the other hand, if they didn’t care who the visitor was, it wasn’t a violation.”

Morison said Perdue demanded to know the names of who was on her farm and why. “I told them it was none of their business. It’s my farm. I can have anyone on here I want. I’m just under contract to raise chickens.”

Two months after the filmmakers left, Morison claims, Perdue figured out who it was and then “they started in with the threats. Over the years, I can’t count all of the veiled threats that Perdue has made. It’s a normal way of doing business with them.”

By May 15, 2008 Perdue terminated the Morisons’ contract. The stated reason was failure to update their poultry facilities with an enclosed tunnel ventilation system that the Morisons said would’ve cost $150,000 to install. “We could never have recouped that investment,” said Carole Morison.

In closing, the letter states Perdue “appreciates your years of service to Perdue and values your contributions in the past.”

It was a very recent past. Weeks before the Morisons received the termination letter, they received an award from Perdue. Dated April 28, 2008 is a “Certificate of Accomplishment” citing them as the “Outstanding Producer of the Week.”

Frank and Carol Morison felt their contract was terminated unfairly.

“It’s absolutely ludicrous to spend $150,000 in upgrades when we were already ‘outstanding.’ There is no logical reason for doing it, not to mention one good business reason,” said Morison.

At the point at which they were required to invest tens of thousands of dollars on upgrades to their farm to maintain a relationship with Perdue was the tipping point for the Morisons. “That was enough.” In July 2008 they stopped raising chickens.

Reached for comment, Perdue spokesperson Julie DeYoung said that the Morisons were not singled out for their criticism of Perdue Farms, Inc. In fact, said DeYoung, many farmers in the area lost their contracts with Perdue around the same time for failure to upgrade their facilities with tunnel ventilation.

“Carole Morison has been an outspoken critic of the modern poultry industry and has publicly expressed her views for more than a decade, so we certainly didn’t end our relationship with the Morisons because of her involvement in this movie,” said DeYoung.

DeYoung challenged the $150,000 upgrade costs Morison cited. “It’s a tier system. They could’ve upgraded at the Tier 1 level for a much smaller investment. Only at the Tier 3 level would upgrades be as much as $100,000 to $120,000.”

DeYoung stated that Perdue’s live production staff estimated it would have cost $20,000 to $30,000 to upgrade to Tier 1 requirements for the Morisons’ farm. Moreover, Perdue has generous financing with a cost-share plan for farmers and interest-free loans through Perdue.

“Had the Morisons been willing to upgrade their poultry houses they would be growing chickens for Perdue today,” said DeYoung.

DeYoung says Perdue has the highest-quality production standards and expects its farmers to invest in their operations to do business with their brand. Tunnel ventilation means “better growing for the birds” and leads to “better bird performance.”

While stating that it was not pertinent to get into the details of specific contracts, DeYoung said Perdue’s compensation is commensurate with performance results.

Frank Morison isn’t convinced.

“If it’s such a good deal, why don’t they carry the note?”

He sticks by the estimate of $150,000 to upgrade his farm. “They’re basing that on a minimum housing cost.” A new tunnel ventilation system would mean upgrades to his electrical system, not to mention significant energy costs at a time when farmers are struggling with higher inputs over all. Frank Morison said he would’ve had to purchase a new generator plus a new well.

“Water usage would’ve gone up too.” He just couldn’t see doing it.

“Listen, if it was such a money making enterprise, raising chickens — they’d be doing it, they’d own the land and buildings, and they’d have tenants run it. Instead they want farmers to pay the costs.”

DeYoung says the Morisons don’t reflect the experience of the majority of their producers. Perdue is “proud of our relationship with the family farms who grow our birds, and pleased that the poultry industry supports agriculture, both crop and animal production.”

Carole Morison countered, “Perdue is right. I have been an outspoken critic of them for more than a decade. In doing so, I had high hopes for Perdue to become a leader in the poultry industry and provide a role model for others to follow in becoming a genuinely, more respectful and caring corporate citizen. I’ve been highly disappointed.”

Since they stopped raising chickens, the Morisons have tried to find work in other fields of agriculture. Carole as an ag consultant and Frank, until recently, worked at his local John Deere dealership. The chicken houses sit empty. Carole can’t say if they’ll farm again.