Migrant Crisis Moves Upstate: 'I didn't come here to wait'

An influx of migrants arriving in several American cities is straining budgets and shelter resources, inflaming political tensions and sparking fights over who should pay to accommodate them.

I traveled this month to Newburgh, a Hudson Valley community about an hour north of New York City. It’s become a new epicenter of the debate over the migrants, as I reported with colleagues in The Wall Street Journal.

The situation in Newburgh represents the next wave of the migrant crisis. Border cities such as El Paso, where one shelter served 250% more people last year than before the pandemic, feel the impact of migrant arrivals first. Then migrants often travel to other communities around the U.S., where some rely on emergency shelter from local governments or aid groups.

Between May 1 and the expiration of the pandemic border policy Title 42 on May 11, tens of thousands of migrants crossed the border out of fear it would become tougher to claim asylum under new rules that went into effect the following day. That surge, which has faded since Title 42 expired, has added to an already historically high number of people illegally entering the U.S. Border Patrol agents made about 1.2 million arrests between Oct. 1, the start of the government’s fiscal year, and the end of April, according to federal data. Last fiscal year, arrests of migrants hit a record 2.2 million.

New York has been hit particularly hard. Last year, Texas and Arizona began paying to bus recently arrived people to northern states including New York, arguing they should share more of the cost. The city of El Paso also started a busing program last year. Additionally, court decisions have established a legal right to shelter that guarantees temporary housing for anyone in New York City who needs it.

I’ve been writing for months about the effects of the migrants in New York City.  “Asylum seekers are now approaching half the folks in the shelter system, and therefore half the cost of the shelter system,” City Comptroller Brad Lander, a Democrat, told me.

New York City Mayor Eric Adams at one point erected a tent city on Randall’s Island, placed 1,000 men in a cruise-ship terminal and, as hotel rooms became harder to come by, has used office buildings to provide shelter.

Last week, City Hall lawyers asked a judge for relief from the consent decree that governs the right to shelter. Advocates immediately objected, and a court fight looms. The result could have major implications not just for the asylum seekers currently overwhelming the city’s shelter system, but for homeless New Yorkers in years to come. (Here’s a good overview from Gothamist’s Elizabeth Kim.)

This month, the city has resorted to putting migrants in school gymnasiums—causing an uproar with local parents. It’s also bussed people to hotels in Upstate communities, starting with several dozen who went to a pair of hotels in Newburgh.

Venezuelan native Jorge Requíz recently arrived on an Adams-chartered bus in the town of Newburgh after first traversing the treacherous Darién Gap in Panama, making his way into Mexico, crossing the Rio Grande to Brownsville, Texas, taking a bus to San Antonio, and flying to New York City.

“I wanted to rest my body after this trip,” the 43-year-old told me.

The chief executives in Orange and Rockland counties declared states of emergency that they said would let them block any contracts between New York City and private hotels. The officials, both Republicans, successfully petitioned courts for temporary restraining orders that prevent the city from sending more people to hotels there.

An Adams spokesman said the city would pay for the costs associated with sheltering and feeding migrants, but other elected officials need to do their part. The city is reviewing its legal options, the spokesman said.

“New York City is being overwhelmed by the financial and number burden associated with the national problem that has been placed on New Yorkers’ laps,” Adams recently told NY1.

Jesus Cova, a 28-year-old electrical engineer from Venezuela, said he and other newcomers want to improve their family’s lives. He showed me and photographer Christopher Gregory-Rivera his right forearm, where he tattooed his name and date of birth — so he could be identified if he were separated from his passport.

“I’ll work whatever job,” he said. “I didn’t come here to wait.”

THE QUESTION: True or false: Parts of New Jersey were below the Mason-Dixon line.

Know the answer? Drop me a line at jimmy.vielkind@gmail.com. Or just write with thoughts, feedback or to say hi.

THE LAST ANSWER: The ZIP code for the GE plant in Schenectady is 12345. If you have stories about that, holler at me!