The state in January contracted with , a Denver firm that specializes in probing workplace issues, to investigate complaints within the department, according to a copy of the agreement obtained through an open records request.

While the department declined to elaborate on the nature of the $25,000 investigation, a review of internal complaints and interviews with seven current and former agency leaders and workers paint a picture of a toxic work environment that impacted the mental health of its staff. Leadership was abusive, inappropriate and demeaning, employees told The Denver Post. Several high-ranking members of the agency left under strained circumstances, with the state paying them money to avoid litigation.

“Not only are they ruining people’s lives,” said one former employee, speaking on the condition of anonymity because they still work for the state, “they’re destroying the state’s second-largest agency.”

All told, the Department of Human Services has paid departing employees nearly $2.8 million in settlement agreements since 2019, when Gov. Jared Polis’ administration took the reins. These cases have concerned alleged pay, age, gender and disability discrimination, whistleblower protection violations, and retaliatory firings, among other accusations.

“That place is a trainwreck,” said Mark Schwane, an employment attorney who frequently represents state workers. “It’s a disaster.”

Department of Human Services officials declined an interview request for this story and did not respond to a list of questions from The Post. In a statement, a spokesperson said the department does not comment on personnel matters, including any investigations tied to individual employees. The external probe remains ongoing.

Employees have a variety of resources to address workplace concerns, including submitting grievances or complaints to leadership, requesting mediation or submitting discrimination or workplace violence reports, said Haysel Hernandez, a department spokesperson.

If an investigation finds that a staff member violated policies or the law, the department takes “immediate action to remedy the situation,” she said in the statement.

“The Colorado Department of Human Services strives to establish a respectful, healthy workplace where all employees are valued and treated fairly,” Hernandez said.

‘So many concerns’

The Colorado Department of Human Services is a sprawling state agency with more than 4,800 employees, trailing only the Department of Corrections in size.

It’s the department of “people who help people,” leadership says, responsible for providing services to children and families, the disabled, and older adults. The agency also manages the state’s child welfare system, 12 youth detention and commitment centers, and two state mental hospitals.

The department’s first stated value: people first. But individuals who worked there say the agency’s own staff don’t seem to get that same treatment.

Those who have been interviewed as part of the outside investigation told The Post that the questions have largely centered on one person: , deputy executive director for operations and strategy.

Morrison referred to her leadership style as “slap and tickle,” which employees who spoke to The Post said made them uncomfortable. She also made inappropriate comments about people’s work statuses, staff said, reminding them that they could be fired at any time.

One staff member said Morrison told them they lacked “executive presence” and recommended they dress in such a way that required them to go beyond the organization’s official dress code. Others said the leader was known for making fun of others in team settings.

“She was very abusive as far as I’m concerned and used her power to intimidate people,” said the former employee who spoke of leadership ruining people’s lives.

Two former high-ranking department members specifically called out Morrison in internal complaints after leaving the agency.

AnneMarie Harper, the department’s former director of communications, cited “hostile and inequitable working conditions” that Morrison created and maintained “through a pattern of inconsistent expectations, inappropriate conduct and professional undermining and communication failures,” she wrote in an appeal and dispute form before the , which was obtained by The Post.

Harper declined an interview request for this story.

In January, another top official filed a complaint with the department’s Civil Rights Unit, alleging Morrison and two other leaders forced her to retire by creating an “intimidating and psychologically harmful (workplace) such that it affected her physical well-being.”

Kristen Withrow, the former associate director for the , which operates the state’s juvenile commitment and detention facilities, said she was left out of meetings, publicly humiliated and scapegoated for safety issues that went on in the youth centers. Her treatment at the end of her tenure was so bad, she wrote, that she applied for family and medical leave for the first time in her 30-year career to care for her health.

“I have so many concerns in the last nine months,” Withrow wrote in a February email included in her complaint. “…I’m just so sad about all of this.”

Withrow declined to talk to The Post about her departure.

Employees say they chose to work for the Department of Human Services because they cared deeply about the agency’s mission to help those less fortunate. But the longer they worked there, the more they realized that their own mental health suffered as a result.

Multiple people told The Post that their sleep suffered while in the job. Others began going to therapy to deal with all the work stress. One former staffer said they burst into tears during a job interview when asked why they left the department.

“The values espoused and printed all over the place, we don’t seem to know how to live those out,” said a current employee, speaking on the condition of anonymity because they still work for the department.

While Morrison received the bulk of the attention from the outside investigators, many of the former staffers said her boss, , also bore responsibility for the department’s toxic culture.

“If you’re not stopping it, you’re part of it,” the current employee said. “I think she is complicit. Katy can only do what she’s allowed to do.”

Barnes and Morrison, through a department spokesperson, declined interview requests for this story.

Millions in settlements

Barnes has also overseen the agency’s practice of paying out high-dollar settlements to departing staffers who challenged their terminations or brought claims in court or with the state personnel board.

The Post obtained all settlement agreements involving the Department of Human Services that concerned monetary payouts to employees since Polis took office in 2019. The department, during that span, reached financial agreements with at least 69 staffers, paying out a total of $2.8 million.

Those agreements spanned $500 on the low end to more than $400,000 to settle claims with a worker who filed a federal lawsuit.

In that 2020 suit, a psychologist working at the at Fort Logan alleged that her supervisor demonstrated “abusive and authoritarian behavior” toward the female psychologists at the facility and used false claims to demote her and go after her professional license.

In a 2019 federal complaint, the director of nursing at a Wheat Ridge facility for those with intellectual and developmental disabilities said she was paid less than her white and non-Asian colleagues for the same work. The director, who is Asian, said leadership retaliated against her after she brought grievances over the discriminatory pay.

The Department of Human Services ended up paying her $383,750 to settle the nursing director’s claims.

Over the past two years, the department has reached 26 agreements with staffers to avoid litigation. Many did not involve money and only dealt with whether an employee’s departure was designated as a termination or resignation.

Fourteen of these deals, though, involved state payouts, to the tune of $381,900. Only the Colorado Department of Corrections paid out more money — $502,702 — to its workers during the last two years.

Harper received $95,000 to resolve her claims. Another worker got $26,500 after alleging their termination was discriminatory. A third person negotiated $122,000 after saying his separation was retaliation in violation of the . One staffer obtained nearly $40,000 to resolve civil rights and charges based on disability discrimination.

Some, though not all, agreements involved nondisparagement clauses, which prohibit the sides from making negative statements about each other. Several also included nondisclosure language, mandating that neither side discuss the settlement negotiations with a third party.

The Department of Human Services needs wholesale change at the top, said Schwane, the employment lawyer. The department rewards loyalty over quality of work, he said, which results in anyone giving negative feedback being pushed out.

“They’re reliable sychophants,” Schwane said.

Settlement agreements are used for a variety of reasons, and do not necessarily indicate wrongdoing by the department or employee, Hernandez, the agency spokesperson, said in a statement. These deals “ensure a fair process, and, when needed, a reasonable opportunity to resolve disagreements or provide a supportive transition out of the agency,” she said.

“The department continues to welcome feedback from staff and is committed to a positive, productive and successful workplace culture that helps employees conduct their best work,” Hernandez said.

Heather Wilcox, a 20-year state employee, said she was administratively dischargedĚýfrom her communications job with — part of the Department of Human Services — after she took an extended leave following the deaths of both her parents and one grandparent.

Her supervisors questioned her about her leave and rejected her accommodation requests when she tried to return to work, she said in an interview.

Wilcox lost her hearing as a child and received cochlear implants — a fact that made her deaf but “not deaf enough” for some in the community, she said. A job helping Colorado’s deaf and hard-of-hearing was a dream come true. Until it wasn’t.

“The whole thing was horrifically abusive,” Wilcox said. “My own community did this to me.”

Wilcox lost health insurance for her and her daughter. She says she feels blackballed as she applies for other jobs.

She filed a claim with the state personnel board, alleging her discharge was discriminatory. In March, the state agreed to let her resign, removed disciplinary memos from her file, and paid her $40,000 plus attorney fees to avoid a protracted legal dispute.

Wilcox wonders how she became so disposable after spending her entire career in public service.

“How do you treat people like that at CDHS?” she said.

The longtime head of the reached a nearly $40,000 settlement with the state over disputed wages days before she announced her resignation in the face of a legislative no-confidence vote.

Kim Bimestefer announced March 30 that she planned to resign April 10 as executive director of the state agency that oversees Medicaid, a job she had held since 2018.

At the time, state Sen. Kyle Mullica, a Thornton Democrat, said 28 out of 35 senators had signed onto a no-confidence resolution, which he would have introduced if Bimestefer hadn’t resigned.

Lawmakers had been increasingly vocal in their criticisms in recent years of the department’s increasing budget and of mistakes, such as overpaying providers to transport Medicaid members to their appointments in passenger vehicles.

Bimestefer signed the seven-page settlement, which The Denver Post obtained through an open records request, on March 27.

The agreement waived her right to sue for any conduct by other state officials, including age discrimination. She could still file a complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission or the Colorado Civil Rights Division, but couldn’t receive any money even if those bodies found evidence of discrimination.

The document also said she would receive $38,117 in “disputed wages,” but didn’t specify why they were in dispute.

No one responded to a message left at a number listed to someone with Bimestefer’s name. The Colorado Department of Health Care Policy and Financing declined to comment, while Gov. Jared Polis released a statement thanking Bimestefer for her work.

“Kim’s leadership helped HCPF save Coloradans money on health care and expand access. During her tenure, Colorado took major steps to increase price transparency, reduce hospital and prescription drug costs, and hold the health care industry accountable. I wish Kim the very best in the next chapter of her career, and am thankful for her leadership these past few years,” the statement said.

A public records request showed the Department of Health Care Policy and Financing hadn’t paid any other settlements to former employees since at least 2024.

The , Gretchen Hammer, was the department’s Medicaid director from 2015 to 2018. Bimestefer took the top jobĚýat the beginning of Polis’ first term, making her the department’s longest-serving executive director.

Denver Post staff writer Sam Tabachnik contributed to this report.

Like many providers around the country, UCHealth sent Houk to , an Englewood-based medical device company that manufactures and sells instruments used for pain management and rehabilitation.

When insurance didn’t cover the , Zynex promised Houk that she could make 10 payments of $25 to cover the cost. What the Westminster patient didn’t know was that this would kick off a year of fighting with a company determined to bill Houk and her insurance providers as often as possible.

The company billed her old insurance. It billed her new insurance. And it sent her bills for more than $2,000 for the $250 device, when she was already paying it off in installments.

“The billing was relentless and terrifying,” Houk said in an interview.

Houk was one of numerous Coloradans caught up in what federal investigators say was a years-long scheme by Zynex to oversupply medical devices and overbill patients seeking opioid-free pain relief. A federal grand jury indicted two former top executives in January, accusing them of orchestrating the fraudulent practices that netted Zynex nearly $1 billion. The company last month avoided further prosecution by admitting to participating in a conspiracy to commit health care fraud, securities fraud, mail fraud and other violations.

Former Zynex employees, in interviews with The Denver Post, said they felt uncomfortable following directives that were unethical or outright illegal. The company routinely fell behind on paying vendors, even as leadership touted rapid growth and record revenue. Staff said they were instructed to continue sending devices and supplies to patients, even when they didn’t request them. Executives told workers not to tell Medicare and Medicaid patients that they would be on the hook for the devices if their insurance didn’t cover them.

“It felt like that was poor business practice to essentially lie to your patients and scam them and create a bad reputation for the company,” said Cori Latousek, a former Zynex employee.

More than a dozen patients told The Post they received supplies that they didn’t order and didn’t need. The scheme has prompted a host of lawsuits from insurance companies and shareholders who say they were duped by Zynex.

At the top of the pyramid stood a chief executive officer who marketed the company’s work as the antidote to the opioid epidemic. Thomas Sandgaard started a to help fund alternatives to painkillers and on the opioid crisis. He was also known for driving expensive sports cars, playing guitar around the office and promoting himself at every turn, former employees say.

Zynex served as a Colorado startup success story — a one-man operation turned public company with hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue. This is the story about how it all fell apart.

Sandgaard, a Castle Rock resident, remained in federal custody as of late February, according to the U.S. Marshall’s Office. His attorney, when contacted by The Post, said he was no longer working on the case.ĚýAnna Lucsok, Zynex’s former chief operating officer, who was also indicted, is free on bond. Her attorney, Bill Leone, said, “the allegations in this indictment are just that — allegations. We look forward to vindicating our client at trial.”

Zynex, in a statement, said the company, in its deal with the Justice Department, “took responsibility for past business practices implemented by former company executives.”

“Our new management team is committed to the highest standards of integrity and compliance in everything we do, so we can better serve patients who can truly benefit from our prescription medical devices,” the company said. “We have completely broken from the past and look forward to closing this chapter and making an important contribution to the health care needs of Americans living with chronic pain.”

Rapid growth fueled by ‘moral conundrums’

Sandgaard, a dual citizen of the U.S. and Denmark, founded Zynex in 1996Ěýafter a career in the semiconductor, telecommunications and medical equipment industries. He positioned the company’s products as a safe alternative to opioids through the development of electrotherapy technology that alleviates chronic pain.

In February 2019, the company went public. Sandgaard that would help expand the Zynex team.

Rapid growth followed — and industry watchers started taking note.

The company ranked 13th in revenue growth among all medical device companies in the U.S. and Canada on Deloitte’s 2020 Technology Fast 500.ĚýJim Cramer, the popular host of “Mad Money” on CNBC, in 2021 .

Zynex, in the first quarter of 2023, reported 36% year-over-year revenue growth. Orders increased 61%. The following quarter, revenue jumped 22%.

At the end of 2024, Sandgaard said his company hit , and he expected to see 10% to 15% growth in 2025.

“The company is built by our employees,” the founder said in a .

Privately, though, many of those same employees grew concerned over how Zynex was making its money.

Latousek served as a territory manager in Seattle, targeting physical therapy, pain clinics and surgery centers for business. The sales pitch: non-opioid pain management.

She recalled leadership instructing her not to tell patients who received the devices that they automatically get enrolled for supplies, such as batteries and electrodes. Many patients, as a result, she said, received charges that they didn’t authorize.

“That felt really sketchy,” Latousek said. “I would always tell my patients to make sure they opted out.”

Most of the time, Medicare wouldn’t cover the stimulation device or the electrodes. When Zynex dealt with these patients, staff said they told them it cost $250 out of pocket.

But in the spring of 2021, leadership changed the directive. Going forward, the policy was to not tell Medicare patients the cost if their insurance didn’t cover it, former employees said.

“We’re pretty much locking in older vulnerable people on Social Security or fixed incomes who don’t have much money,” said one former Zynex worker, who spoke to The Post on the condition of anonymity because they feared career consequences for being associated with the company.

This led to constant “moral conundrums,” the former employee said. They recalled phone calls with elderly patients who said they couldn’t afford the device. Yet Zynex still found a way to send them the units, charging them $250.

When this employee brought up concerns from staff that they were taking advantage of people, they said they were let go.

“I never felt good,” the individual said. “Me getting fired was definitely a blessing.”

Former Zynex staffers said this occurrence was common: Workers who expressed concerns about the company’s practices would be fired or reassigned to different roles. As a result, few employees stayed for long, outside of top executives.

Meanwhile, Zynex was often late paying vendors, employees said. The company offered to pay half if it could receive some of the inventory — an arrangement that left workers feeling uncomfortable.

People in the buying department quickly grew alarmed that their supply orders for batteries and electrodes were so steady. Normally, in this business, there should be fluctuating inventory levels based on customer demand, employees said.ĚýBut at Zynex, the numbers remained constant.

That was because they were shipping batteries and electrodes over and over to the same patients, these workers said they realized. Many people would return the packages to the warehouse with notes telling Zynex to stop sending them supplies.

Unwanted supplies, unexplained bills

More than a dozen patients told The Post that they received supplies from Zynex that they never ordered and didn’t need.

Josh Kahn, 39, underwent a spinal fusion in 2023, and his surgeon recommended an electrical nerve stimulation machine. The Denver resident got a prescription for the Zynex device.

The implement worked well, Kahn said, but every month he received batteries and electrodes that were unnecessary given his usage of the machine. He stuffed a drawer with all the supplies.

In January 2025, Kahn asked Zynex to discontinue the recurring orders. The company acknowledged his request.

But Kahn continued to get charged $45 a month for the device and supplies, according to the bills he provided to The Post.

“This is becoming a nuisance,” he told the company in an email.

Chris Basser, 49, used a Zynex machine for a back injury he sustained in 2021 after getting hit by a drunk driver. Medicaid covered everything, the Colorado Springs resident said, but he still received packs of six or nine batteries every three weeks.

He said he tried calling the company to cancel the orders, but nobody ever responded. He eventually gave up.

“I thought it was maybe a miscommunication,” Basser said. “I didn’t think of fraud.”

It didn’t seem to matter whether patients paid their bills. Zynex continued to demand payment.

For nearly four years, Zynex has been seeking $250 from Michael Raizen, despite the Denver resident negotiating a deal with the company to pay for his device.

“It’s like a bad rash,” Raizen’s wife, Gail DeVore, said. “No matter what you do, you can’t get rid of it.”

Sports cars, electric guitars and giant banners

Sandgaard served as the face of Zynex — and he wasn’t shy about letting everyone know.

The CEO showed up to the Englewood office in a sports car, and liked to walk around the office with his electric guitar, blasting music, ex-employees said. One former staffer recalled carrying around his amp and handing out T-shirts “like a little groupie.”

Sandgaard hung a large banner on the fourth floor, a spoof of a in which the Zynex founder is holding a machine gun in one hand, a bald eagle perched on his other arm. He’s standing on a fiery hill with a white Zynex flag behind him. Dollar bills flutter around his feet.

“He came off as a man incredibly full of himself,” the former staffer who felt like a groupie said, speaking on the condition of anonymity due to fears about future career consequences. “It felt very toxic male CEO.”

Complicating matters was the fusion of Sandgaard’s professional and personal lives.

He was in the midst of a divorce when he enlisted the services of a local psychologist, Dr. Raelynn Maloney. In 2014, the two started dating.

Despite the Zynex founder boasting about the company’s success, Maloney learned that Sandgaard and his firm had accrued significant debt and had exhausted lines of credit, she alleged in a 2025 lawsuit against him and the company.

Desperate, Sandgaard asked Maloney to help save Zynex, she said. The psychologist started attending high-level meetings as an unpaid consultant.

Without the ability to obtain financing, Sandgaard regularly asked Maloney for loans for himself and the company, she alleged. Maloney put up more than $1.1 million in personal assets as cash or collateral throughout 2023 so Sandgaard and Zynex could avoid bankruptcy, the complaint alleges.

Sandgaard eventually bought a house for Maloney and her daughters. She quit her private practice to join Zynex full-time, serving as the head of customer service, billing and parts of human resources, Maloney alleged.

In 2020, Sandgaard , and asked Maloney to help turn that organization around as well, she said.

Eventually, Sandgaard started to pull away from Maloney, she said in the lawsuit. He began seeking sexual experiences with their mutual friends, colleagues and former Zynex employees, she alleged. He sexually harassed his staff, Maloney said, and even put her in charge of handling several sexual harassment complaints made by employees.

“I guess you’re not going to have your fairytale ending,” Maloney said Sandgaard told her.

Maloney did not respond to messages seeking comment. Her lawsuit remains open.

Sandgaard, in court filings, called the complaint a “vengeful recounting of events regarding her romantic breakup.” The lawsuit, his lawyers wrote, “is nothing but a punitive attempt to punish her ex-partner and seek financial relief for the benefits she can no longer reap from their relationship.”

Zynex begins to crumble

The facade eventually started to crumble when insurance providers began to catch on to the scheme.

In December 2024, , the health insurer for service members, suspended payments to Zynex “based upon credible allegations of fraud and its audit of Zynex’s billing,” according to Sandgaard and Lucsok’s indictment. That move represented a huge blow to the company’s business, as TRICARE accounted for a quarter of its revenue.

Other payors also stopped reimbursing Zynex.

, in September 2025, said it had paid out more than $3 million in bodily injury claims to Zynex based on “false and fraudulent records,” the insurer alleged in a federal lawsuit filed in New York.

Zynex, the insurer said, “abused Allstate’s claimants’ insurance coverage by billing for (durable medical equipment) that” Zynex “had no legal right to collect.”

Sandgaard and Lucsok concealed TRICARE’s suspension until March 2025, federal prosecutors said. After the news came out, Zynex’s stock dropped by 51% in one day, dipping to $3.41 per share from $7.

Two days after the disclosure, Sandgaard sold $4.8 million of his stock, even though the company could not afford to buy it back, the indictment states.

Records show Sandgaard and the company as a whole suffered from serious financial woes.

Between 2015 and 2025, the Zynex founder personally racked up more than $321,000 in unpaid taxesĚýto the , court records show.

In December, Zynex filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, listing assets of more than $45 million and debts exceeding $86 million. Among the creditors: U.S. Bank (owed $61.75 million), TRICARE (owed $2.77 million) and the Polsinelli law firm (owed $1.14 million). Maloney is also listed with an “undetermined” claim.

On Jan. 14, a federal grand jury in Rhode Island on charges of conspiracy to commit mail, health care and securities fraud, among other counts.

Federal prosecutors alleged what patients, Zynex employees and insurance providers had been saying for years: The company was billing for and sending people devices and supplies that they didn’t request and didn’t need.

The company collected more than $873 million for its products, including more than $600 million for supplies, “the vast majority of which were the result of fraud,” the government alleged.

Between them, Sandgaard and Lucsok used their sizable earnings to pay for a private jet, a Lamborghini, the McLaren sports car, cosmetic procedures, real estate and the British soccer club, investigators said.

“This case represents a troubling abuse of patients seeking care, as well as the federal health care benefit system,” U.S. Attorney Charles C. Calenda said in a statement announcing the charges.

On Feb. 17, the Justice Department announced Zynex to avoid prosecution, admitting to the long-running scheme. Zynex also agreed to pay up to $12.5 million in fines and forfeit all unpaid claims.

Sandgaard and Zynex also face numerous lawsuits from insurers, patients and shareholders, who say they were duped by the Colorado company.

For patients who used Zynex devices and employees who worked for the Englewood company, the indictment represented an unsurprising turn of events, while also serving as validation that their suspicionsĚýwere not wrong after all.

“What they were doing was shoveling as much money into their own coffers as possible,” said Houk, the patient who kept getting billed. “It was utterly relentless. A lot of people got hurt by this.”

It was 2023, and the meat-processing giant headquartered in Greeley had just endured a tumultuous stretch.

The plant became one of Colorado’s hotspots during the COVID-19 pandemic, with the virus responsible for the deaths of at least seven workers. Many laborers left the company as a result. The ones who stayed demanded better conditions by walking off the job.

So JBS got creative. A Colorado resident, Mackenson Remy, told a company human resources supervisor that he had a TikTok channel targeted at Haitian immigrants in the U.S. and that he could use it to advertise JBS jobs, according to a proposed class-action lawsuit filed Tuesday in U.S. District Court in Denver.

The job was perfect for these refugees, the HR representative, Edmond Ebah, told Remy, the lawsuit alleges: The gig was hard but paid well and required no English. Housing and food would be taken care of while they got set up in Greeley.

Remy, after posting several videos extolling that opportunity, began receiving hundreds of messages from Haitians all over the country, the lawsuit says.

But their experience in Colorado has been marked by injuries, discrimination and inhospitable living conditions, three Haitian workers allege in the federal lawsuit.

The recruiters jammed as many as 60 people into a house at one time, sometimes without electricity and water, the complaint says. Workers’ hands grew disfigured as they trimmed beef fat and pulled out cow intestines. Some urinated themselves because they were denied bathroom breaks, the lawsuit states.

“When I first saw a video recruiting Haitian workers to the JBS plant in Greeley, I was excited for a great opportunity. But immediately upon arrival to an overcrowded hotel room, I knew something was wrong, and that was only the beginning,” said Nesly Pierre, a plaintiff in the lawsuit, in a news release. “I’m a part of today’s lawsuit because I don’t want workers — my fellow Haitians or any group of workers who may come to the U.S. in the future — to suffer in the way that I have.”

JBS representatives did not respond to a request for comment Tuesday.

Squalid living conditions and dangerous work

The Greeley-based company is a wholly owned subsidiary of Brazil-basedĚý, the world’s largest processor of beef and pork, with more than $50 billion in annual sales.

operates nine U.S. facilities, selling beef products to more than 44 countries on six continents. The company employs more than 37,000 people at these facilities, including 4,000 workers at the Greeley plant.

Pierre, Louine Jean-Louis and Carlos Saint Aubin — all Haitian refugees — were living in states across the country when they learned about the JBS opportunity through TikTok.

Remy charged them a recruitment fee, ranging from $100 to $320, in exchange for securing them a job, the lawsuit alleges. Each scrounged together hundreds of dollars to pay their way to Colorado.

When they got to Greeley, JBS put them up in the Rainbow Motel. Despite there being just one bed, one bathroom and no kitchen in each room, the company crammed up to 11 people in each unit, the complaint states. Pierre said the room “felt like a jail cell,” with many people forced to sleep on the floor.

At its peak, the 17-room motel housed more than 100 Haitians, according to the lawsuit.

JBS charged some workers weekly fees for the rooms and tacked on an additional charge for trips to the plant. Without money or transportation, the refugees had to rely on Remy for trips to the grocery store or restaurants. Saint Aubin didn’t eat for two days, according to the lawsuit.

As new recruits steadily arrived, JBS needed to make room at the motel. So the company moved dozens of Haitians to a five-bedroom house nearby, charging them $70 a week. As many as 60 people were living at the house during its height, the complaint alleges. Sometimes there was no electricity or water.

During their first week of work, JBS gave the recruits a four-day orientation focused on safety and work policies. But the training sessions were only in English and Spanish, according to the lawsuit.

Training supervisors then falsified records on behalf of the new workers to ensure they could pass quickly and begin work as soon as possible, an accusation reported by The Denver Post and made in a separate lawsuit against JBS earlier this year.

Work at the plant, meanwhile, was exceptionally dangerous. Employees endured lacerations, amputations, severe burns and musculoskeletal injuries, the complaint alleges.

Saint Aubin, in his first year of work, experienced shooting pains in his chest while working on the line. He visited the on-site clinic, which gave him a hot towel and sent him back to the floor, he alleges in the lawsuit. He requested to leave work, but was told he’d be penalized.

After the pain continued, JBS called an ambulance to take him to the hospital. A doctor told him that his injury was work-related and that he needed to avoid carrying anything heavy for eight weeks, according to the lawsuit.

But when the worker informed JBS of his doctor’s instructions, the company told him it could not accommodate his request, the complaint states. He’d instead have to take eight weeks of unpaid leave.

The workers allege supervisors barred them from taking bathroom breaks, leading some to avoid drinking and eating to stay on the floor. Others urinated in their clothes.

“No worker should experience the exploitation and abuse that our clients have endured,” said Juno Turner, an attorney with , a Denver nonprofit legal service representing the workers, in a statement. “That these workers are treated so cruelly amid the current unprecedented attack on immigrant communities just adds insult to literal injury.”

JBS’s history of unlawful child labor

The company has also been in the crosshairs of U.S. regulators for years, along with myriad allegations from its employees over poor or unsafe working conditions.

The U.S. Department of Labor, in January, found to work in its slaughterhouses.

Children as young as 13 were hired through an outside sanitation company and worked overnight cleaning shifts at slaughterhouses in Colorado, Iowa, Minnesota and Nebraska, federal investigators found. Their jobs included cleaning dangerous powered equipment, labor officials said.

The companyĚýĚýto assist individuals and communities affected by unlawful child labor practices.

Last year, a union representing workers at the Greeley plant called for federal, state and local law enforcement and regulatory bodies to hold the company accountable for poor labor practices.

The union, , accused the company of human trafficking via social media; charging workers to live in squalid conditions; threatening and intimidating workers and their families; operating with dangerously high production line speeds; and withholding mail from workers.

In October 2024, Jean-Louis filed a complaint with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, alleging thatĚýJBS intentionally discriminates against Haitian workers by subjecting them to poor working conditions.

LeEllen Condry filed the lawsuit in U.S. District Court in Denver after obtaining the right to sue from the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission and the Colorado Civil Rights Division.

The lawsuit, brought by attorneys Andy McNulty and Mari Newman, alleges the discriminated and retaliated against Condry and violated her First Amendment rights after she labeled as racist the removal of books from district library shelves.

“Knowledge is power, but the Elizabeth School District is so hell-bent on depriving its students access to information that it not only banned books expressing marginalized viewpoints, it fired LeEllen Condry for demanding better,” Newman said in a news release.

Dan Snowberger, the Elizabeth School District’s superintendent, told The Denver Post that the district is aware that a former employee is alleging discrimination.

“The employee’s claims are not new and are part of a broader effort by the ACLU to attack the district because of a few decisions a vocal minority disagrees with,” Snowberger wrote in a statement. “The district has and will continue to defend itself in federal court from outside interests attempting to strong-arm the district¶¶Ňőap elected board — a board that was overly retained by the voters a few short weeks ago. The district intends to defend itself in court, and the facts will show that the individual’s employment ended because she failed to take the steps to secure the necessary licensure for the position, and because the position was one of several eliminated for cost-saving reasons during a fiscal exigency.”

Condry was hired as the dean of students at Elizabeth Middle School in June 2024. That August, she learned about a new district policy that restricted access to 19 library books the school board deemed “highly sensitive” — largely books written by or about people of color and LGBTQ people.

Some of the removed books — which are now back on shelves because of a court order — included “Beloved” and “The Bluest Eye” by Toni Morrison, “The Kite Runner” by Khaled Hosseini and “#Pride: Championing LGBTQ Rights” by Rebecca Felix.

“The book ban was inherently discriminatory, and it was the ESD board’s goal in implementing the ban to suppress voices by Black and LGBTQIA+ authors and content that discussed race-related and LGBTQIA+ topics, characters and experiences,” the lawsuit states.

The American Civil Liberties Union of Colorado sued the Elizabeth School District over the book policy in December.

When the school board requested feedback on the policy, Condry said she wrote a letter explaining how the book ban was “unethical” and “racist.” According to the lawsuit, Condry’s response was “passionate” but “professional.”

After Snowberger read Condry’s feedback, the lawsuit said he sent an email to all employees calling out Condry’s input as crossing the line and demanding “further disciplinary action.”

In October of 2024, the lawsuit said Condry was fired and told that her removal was budget-related.

“It was clear to Ms. Condry, however, that she was being terminated because she was a Black woman who dared to speak up and call the board racist for their decision to implement the book ban and for continually raising concerns about racism within ESD,” the lawsuit states.

The lawsuit alleged Condry was replaced by a white woman who supported the removal of the books from library shelves.

“It is time to end corruption, racism and discrimination in the Elizabeth School District,” Condry wrote in a news release. “It is now my time to take back my voice that was once silenced, and to speak up against the dishonest leadership that uses its power to erase the voices of diverse groups of people.”

The lawsuit, filed Oct. 28, seeks monetary damages and a court order requiring United Airlines to institute policies for preventing and responding to abuse, including sexual harassment.

The Adams County woman’s claims echo a related criminal case in which the same pilot, Andrew Hill of Aurora, pleaded guilty to distributing pornography, sexual extortion and stalking in Cedar City, Utah, and was sentenced to up to five years in prison in December 2024.

That case also involved a former United Airlines flight attendant as the victim, and the criminal investigation found Hill posted explicit photos and videos of 10 women online, including multiple United employees, according to the complaint.

United Airlines did not prevent or stop Hill’s sexual harassment and illegal conduct, even though officials knew sexual harassment was a problem at the company since 2009, attorneys with the Aspen law firm ALM Law and New York firm Marsh Law wrote in the complaint.

“Despite that knowledge, United Airlines failed to take reasonable steps to protect its employees and prevent sexually harassing conduct, which created a hostile work environment within United Airlines,” attorneys Allison Mahoney, Helene M. Weiss and Cori J. Iacopelli wrote in the complaint.

The woman filed a complaint with the against United Airlines in December 2024 and received a notice-of-right-to-sue letter from the agency in July.

A spokesperson for United Airlines declined to comment on the case.

Airline officials learned about the criminal investigation into Hill in April 2024 but did not put him on leave. United fired him only after he was arrested in July, according to the complaint.

United Airlines officials also told a Utah investigator that they let the woman know she was a victim in the case and provided her with support, but actually did neither.

“Plaintiff brings this action to recover for the emotional and psychological injuries she endured because of the actions and/or inactions of Defendant United Airlines and to make sure that no one else is forced to suffer the sexual harassment, exploitation, degradation and discrimination that she felt and continues to feel to this day,” the woman’s attorneys wrote.

Previous civil rights lawsuits against United Airlines include the company paying $99,000 to a former employee in January to settle a

A federal jury in Denver also ruled against the airline in a 2018 age discrimination lawsuit, awarding $800,000 to two former flight attendants who said they were fired because of their age.

Salima Jandali, a former JBS worker who is Muslim and from Morocco, says in her complaint filed in U.S. District Court in Denver, that JBS engages in “systematic workplace discrimination” based on her religion and retaliated against her after she refused to engage in the company’s “illegal, dangerous and exploitative practices.”

JBS did not respond to requests for comment. In court filings, the company denied engaging in any unlawful conduct and denied demanding Jandali falsify safety records.

From August 2019 until September, Jandali worked as a safety instructor at the Greeley plant, tasked with conducting mandatory safety training for new hires and production employees working with equipment on the meat-processing floor.

The courses — seven hours for current workers and a weekĚýfor new employees — are meant to teach workers about health and safety protocols, including instruction on blood-borne pathogens, hand washing, knife sharpening and meat-related diseases.

But JBS only holds safety courses in a handful of languages — ignoring the fact that more than 30 dialects are spoken at the plant, Jandali said in an interview and in her lawsuit, filed June 24. As a result, many workers don’t learn anything from these trainings, she said.

Yet employees are required to complete multiple-choice tests on the subject matter. Jandali alleges that supervisors gave her a laptop and told her to take the tests instead of having the workers do them. Sometimes, the workers weren’t even in the room.

In other cases, Jandali said instructors were told to give new hires a fake device so it looked like they were engaging with the tests. In reality, the instructors had the real devices, she said, which allowed them to select the correct answers.

Management puts immense pressure on the safety instructors to get their laborers to complete the courses as quickly as possible so they can get to work, Jandali said. She said she has seen examples of workers suffering serious injuries, including losing fingers and limbs, due to inadequate safety training.

Emails and text messages shared with The Denver Post show supervisors pushing Jandali and other instructors to get in line.

“What is going on here?” one supervisor wrote in a May 2024 email. “Why aren’t we getting them complete?”

In another email, a manager told Jandali to “fix this.”

In other messages, leadership sent Jandali lists of workers who hadn’t completed the courses, with the implication, she said, that she should finish for them.

Jandali, in May 2024, repeatedly told management that she didn’t feel comfortable falsifying these safety records, emails show.

“Simply taking the classes for them is not acceptable and unethical,” she wrote.

In response, supervisors took Jandali to Human Resources.

“They just said, ‘We need to work together to get these people to 100% (completed),'” Jandali told The Post. “‘If this is not something you’re willing to do, this is not a job for you.'”

In addition to the safety course allegations, Jandali alleges in the lawsuit that her manager belittled her and used slurs such as “stupid Muslim” or “stupid Arab.”

She would speak to Jandali condescendingly and disrespectfully, the lawsuit states, telling her to “do her damn job” when she asked questions. On at least 25 occasions, Jandali alleges she showed up to work to find her safety equipment missing or in the trash.

In September 2024, after enduring months of “unaddressed harassment, retaliation and pressure to engage in illegal conduct,” the lawsuit states, Jandali resigned.

The Greeley-based company is a wholly owned subsidiary of Brazil-based , the world’s largest processor of beef and pork, with more than $50 billion in annual sales.

JBS USA operates nine U.S. facilities, selling beef products to more than 44 countries on six continents. The company employs more than 37,000 people at these facilities.

The company has also been in the crosshairs of U.S. regulators for years, along with myriad allegations from its employees over poor or unsafe working conditions.

The U.S. Department of Labor, in January, found JBS to work in their slaughterhouses.

Children as young as 13 were hired through an outside sanitation company and worked overnight cleaning shifts at slaughterhouses in Colorado, Iowa, Minnesota and Nebraska, federal investigators found. Their jobs included cleaning dangerous powered equipment, labor officials said.

The company to assist individuals and communities affected by unlawful child labor practices.

Last year, a union representing workers at the Greeley plant called for federal, state and local law enforcement and regulatory bodies to hold the company accountable for a collection of poor labor practices. The union, , accused the company of human trafficking via TikTok; charging workers to live in squalid conditions; threatening and intimidating workers and their families; operating with dangerously high production line speeds; and withholding mail from workers.

In October, an employee filed a complaint with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, alleging JBS intentionallyĚýdiscriminates against Haitian workers by subjecting them to poor working conditions.

In 2021, Ěýafter the EEOC found the JBS plant in GreeleyĚýĚýin the evening during the Muslim holiday month of Ramadan.

That same year, the U.S. Department of LaborĚý at its Greeley facilities, following the death of a worker. The fatality occurred after several other incidents at the same facility, including a worker who suffered an arm amputation, another worker who suffered laceration injuries and a worker who was exposed to a thermal burn hazard.

An in Australia found JBS “has an appalling track record in the workplace, repeatedly failing to protect its workers from death or serious injuries — including hand amputations and third-degree burns.”

AndĚýat least seven workersĚýat the JBS plant in Greeley died during the COVID-19 pandemic, part of aĚýwave of worker deathsĚýat meatpacking facilities around the country. The deaths prompted a congressional investigation into the largest meatpacking companies.

The Occupational Safety and Health AdministrationĚýissued JBS a $15,615 fineĚýfor those COVID-19 deaths.

Dr. Morgan Medlock, who is Black, was chief medical officer and director of crisis and emergency services in Washington, D.C., before coming to Colorado to serve as commissioner of the new Behavioral Health Administration in January 2022. She lost her job in April 2023.

Medlock sued in U.S. District Court on Tuesday, alleging the state, Gov. Jared Polis, executive director Michelle Barnes and the governor’s former chief of staff, Alec Garnett, discriminated and retaliated against her.

Lawmakers created the BHA, which launched in 2022, to streamline mental health and addiction care in Colorado. Barnes temporarily headed the agency until the new commissioner, Dannette Smith, took over in March 2024. Smith is also Black.

Polis’ office and the BHA declined to comment Wednesday, citing the pending lawsuit. Representatives for Barnes and Garnett’s current employer, UCHealth, also said they couldn’t comment.

Medlock alleged that Barnes treated her “less favorably” than non-Black members of the governor’s cabinet, and incorrectly listed her as reporting to Barnes rather than to Polis in a Department of Human Services organization chart. She also said one of Barnes’ subordinates reprimanded her for the way she chaired a meeting, which she attributed to her identity as a Black woman.

An attorney for the governor’s office offered to investigate Medlock’s concerns about Barnes’ team, according to the lawsuit, but Medlock thought an internal investigation would be a distraction from trying to launch the BHA and declined to move forward.

Medlock also alleged:

• Barnes inappropriately reported her to the Colorado Attorney General’s Office after she complained about what she felt was discrimination
• Two of Medlock’s subordinates, who later resigned, proposed that she act only as the “public face” of the BHA while they ran the agency
• Another subordinate failed to intervene when a stakeholder used a racial slur in a meeting with Medlock, and later spread rumors about her
• Human resources didn’t include a “highly qualified” Black woman on its list of candidates to interview for the BHA’s chief of staff role, and Garnett said the role would be a “big jump” for that candidate
• Garnett mistreated her after she complained about a stakeholder harassing her online, and asked her to report to him instead of directly to Polis
• Garnett told her not to hire one of the two final candidates for the chief of staff role, both of whom were Black

Medlock filed a complaint with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission in August 2023, alleging she lost her job because of a “racially hostile” environment. Some lawmakers countered that her firing was because the BHA was behind on work, and that providers and other stakeholders felt the new agency’s plans wouldn’t meet their needs.

Employees alleging workplace discrimination can only sue after the EEOC completes its investigation. Generally, the commission only releases information about a complaint if it finds evidence that an employer broke the law.

The legislature pushed back timelines to complete the BHA’s setup after Medlock’s departure. Some mental health providers said the initial timeline was unrealistic, which they thought created friction between state officials and stakeholders.

Then the bowling centers were bought by , formerly Bowlmor AMF Corp. Roughly two years later, Alloway was out of a job. “They walked in one day with an envelope and said, ‘Here’s your final pay. I need you to pack up and leave,'” she said.

After about two years on the job, Peters was fired. He said the managers didn’t give him a definitive reason why. “I’ve never, ever, ever in my entire life in any career in any place I’ve ever been in been treated like that.”

Alloway and Peters are now among 76 former employees who’ve joined an age discrimination lawsuit against Bowlero, billed as the country’s largest bowling center chain with more than 350 locations. The plaintiffs include people like Alloway, who say they were targeted because of their age, and Peters, who believe they were fired because they wouldn’t get rid of older workers.

Two other Coloradans are plaintiffs as well. There are 13 Bowlero centers in metro Denver.

New York attorney Daniel Dowe believes Alloway, Peters and his other clients were swept out as the company, recently renamed , went about transforming the businesses from catering to league bowling to “date-night bowling, more entertainment” to attract younger customers.

When a childhood friend and others were fired by the company, Dowe started “digging in” and found what he said was a pattern of older employees being let go. An amended lawsuit filed Feb. 17 by Dowe Partners said the federal Equal Employment Opportunity Commission found that in 57 of the claims, Bowlero violated the .

Early on, Dowe said he tried to reach a settlement with the company. Bowlero declined and Dowe went to the EEOC, which opened two investigations.

The lawsuit against the company said the EEOC commission suggested that Bowlero pay $60 million to resolve the claims. Bowlero “rebuffed” the proposal, which ended the process at the commission, according to the lawsuit

The EEOC didn’t pursue a lawsuit against Bowlero, but issued right-to-sue letters, which signal that administrative efforts were exhausted. litigates a small percentage of all charges filed.

Bowlero has asked the courts to dismiss the lawsuit. In a February letter to a federal judge in New York, the company said at least 64 of the former employees didn’t file their complaints within the designated timeframe. Bowlero also argued that individual claims don’t support the allegations of age discrimination.

A conference with the judge and the attorneys is scheduled March 27 in New York, where Bowlero has one of its corporate offices.ĚýThe Quinn Emanuel Urquhart & Sullivan law firm, representing Bowlero, filed a new motion Wednesday for a stay of the discovery process.

“This case continues to be a waste of judicial resources. Bowlero will continue to vigorously defend against this repeat litigant¶¶Ňőap frivolous lawsuit and pursue its own claims to the fullest extent of law,” the company said in a statement.

A New York state court issued a $5,000 sanction on Dowe in 2019 after a judge ruled his lawsuit over a Bowlero stock transaction was frivolous. Dowe said the lawsuit sought to put aside funds in escrow to protect his clients.

Dowe said he feels good about the discrimination case. HeĚýdisputed that the EEOC claims weren’t filed in time. An analysis by his office found that the average plaintiff worked for the company and its former iterations for 18 years and was 54 when fired.

“Line of malarkey”

Alloway started working for a Brunswick Bowling center in Wheat Ridge in 2002. She was the sales director when Bowlmor AMF, later Bowlero, bought the business. She became the general manager.

“We had the biggest youth league in the area. We had 40 lanes of youth bowlers every Saturday morning,” Alloway said.

When Bowlero took over, Alloway said she asked several times for guidance on the new owner’s accounting and operations systems. “All they would do is feed you a line of malarkey.”

Alloway was then told her center failed an audit because it wasn’t following company procedures. She was fired in 2015 after questioning orders to cut down trees that belonged to the city and put up a sign that didn’t meet city regulations. She was 61.

“When they sent me on my way, they immediately brought in somebody that was younger than me. This person didn’t have the experience I did,” Alloway said.

The lawsuit against Bowlero said Alloway was discharged as part of a companywide practice of firing employees 40 and older.

One of the plaintiffs is Tom Tanase, the former chief information officer, who was 61 when he was fired in 2023. According to the lawsuit, Tanase told the EEOC that after Bowlero acquired several bowling centers, the staff turnover rate jumped as older employees were fired and younger people were hired to fit a certain image. Tanase said it was known at high levels that people who looked older or were older and overweight were being “managed out.”

Bowlero said it successfully sued Tanase on claims that he hacked into the company’s computer system after he was fired. A U.S. District Court in Virginia awarded Bowlero a summary judgment in the lawsuit.

Not your father’s bowling alley

The new people being hired were “young, attractive, hot females, if we want to be blunt,” said Peters, who was the assistant manager at a Lone Tree Bowlero. He was fired in 2016 after two years at the former Brunswick bowling center. He was 35.

The lawsuit claims Peters’ termination violated the law against age discrimination because he refused to discipline employees that management wanted out because of their age or appearance. Peters said he refused to write up a woman in her mid-50s for being late when the weather was bad. He wouldn’t discipline another woman he called “a rock star.”

“They wanted me to start getting on her because she was overweight. That’s not going to happen,” Peters said.

When Bowlero bought the Lone Tree center, expectations changed, Peters said.

“They sat us all down and absolutely told us, ‘This isn’t your father’s bowling alley. We’re going to change things up a bit,'” Peters said. “And we’re like ‘Cool. Let’s do it.’ Until we understood what that entailed.”

After Peters had some run-ins with managers, he was relegated to working the counter. He said a hand injury limited the physical work he could do and managers and the human resources department didn’t respond to his concerns. He concedes that some of the conversations got heated.

In the end, Peters said he wasn’t given a specific reason for his termination.

Alloway is working at another area bowling center not connected to Bowlero. Peters is working in sales after years in the hospitality industry.

“I just felt so disheartened after everything that went down, I had to find a different avenue,” Peters said.

Updated March 14, 2025, at 3:30 to clarify the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission’s action and adds details of court actions by Bowlero.

Lakewood resident Austin Ray is seeking an unspecified amount of money for economic damages and compensation for pain and suffering, according to a civil rights lawsuit filed in in Denver last month.

Ray, an atheist, was hired by in October 2023, his attorney David Meretta with the Littleton firm Miller & Law wrote in the complaint.

At a holiday party on Dec. 22, 2023, an assistant manager repeatedly asked Ray questions about Christmas and insisted he answer whether he believes in God. Ray’s manager, who was present, did not intervene in the encounter.

Ray reported the incident to human resources and another manager multiple times and was “led to believe that measures to correct the discriminatory misconduct were underway,” according to the lawsuit.

But Ray’s manager started retaliating against him by changing his job duties, making him do meaningless tasks and isolating and alienating him within the department. He was fired on March 15, three months after the holiday party, without any write-ups, performance improvement plans or discipline.

Ray later filed a discrimination and retaliation claim with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission and was given a right to sue notice in October.

In a court filing responding to Ray’s lawsuit, attorneys for the city denied the allegations and claimed the city can’t be held liable for unlawful acts by employees because the city tried to prevent and correct discriminatory or retaliatory behavior.

“(Ray’s) damages, if any, are the result of (his) own conduct,” attorneys for the city wrote in the Feb. 18 response.

A spokesperson for the city attorney’s office could not immediately be reached for comment.