Business
Storied presses print L.A. Times for the last time as production moves to Riverside
The swing shift is about to start at a plant that is about to close. Late winter sunlight casts long shadows from workers crossing the parking lot, where stray cats skulk among the cars.
Only two weeks left, and the routine is unchanged: clocking in at 5 p.m., heading to the locker room, trading street clothes for work wear. If anyone feels sadness or loss, no one shows it. They have a newspaper to put out.
“We’re trying to do this with a little class and dignity,” said shift supervisor Kal Hamalainen.
Sixteen months ago, they were told that the Los Angeles Times, their employer, would outsource the printing of the paper and that the Olympic printing plant, once a crown jewel in a vast media empire, would shut down sometime in 2024.
Pressman Mike Carper reviews newspapers at the press console at the Olympic plant.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
The decision was set in motion many years earlier when the Chicago-based Tribune Co., then owner of The Times, sold its historic properties, and The Times became a tenant.
Now, six years after Dr. Patrick Soon-Shiong bought The Times in 2018, the lease on the Olympic plant is expiring, and paying rent has become untenable. The paper will be printed in Riverside by the Southern California Newspaper Group, with its circulation numbers remaining the same.
“Technology and economics have changed dramatically, and we’re transitioning to a new era for our business,” Times President and Chief Operating Officer Chris Argentieri said in a statement, citing both the daily newspaper and digital platforms.
March 10 will be the last run of The Times at the Olympic plant.
Dressed in blue pants and blue shirts with a Times eagle patch, the workers find their places throughout the sprawling facility. Each is a crucial link in a chain of production often called the daily miracle: that alchemical transformation of words and pictures into a newspaper to be held, sold, mailed or tossed onto any driveway, any doorstep in the city.
What once was so easy to take for granted has never seemed so remarkable.
They have watched as their crews have been cut, three shifts reduced to one. They once printed other papers besides The Times, and those have gone elsewhere. But it’s hard to be nostalgic over what seems inevitable.
Newspapers have suffered many depredations over the years, from the internet to cost-cutting shareholders to skepticism and disinterest in the written word. With print readership declining in most markets, many media outlets are publishing stories online before printing them. The Times is following this trend, though it consistently ranks among the six largest newspapers in the country for print circulation.
At the Olympic plant, pressman Antonio Garcia, from left, press operator Marc Strong and pressroom supervisor John Wenzel review newspapers to make ongoing adjustments of color and to check whether everything is in register.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
But that’s another story. On this Friday night, Feb. 23, what’s more important is a Ukrainian woman’s search for her husband, a jury’s verdict in a hit-and-run, and in sports, a profile of UCLA’s mercurial basketball coach, as well as the obituaries, comics and horoscopes.
Press operators gather to review the run: Tomorrow’s paper will have color on all but one of the 22 pages. They’ll start at 8:30, print a little more than 100,000 copies and be done in less than two hours.
To step inside the Olympic printing plant is to step inside a time capsule enshrining a 19th century product manufactured with 20th century technology and poised for 21st century obsolescence.
Within these walls was the future of Los Angeles and Southern California, as once imagined by the owners of The Times. Fueled by a diverse economy — a dividend of the postwar boom years — this building, likened by one manager to the Taj Mahal, was dedicated on March 6, 1990. (The paper had been printed on the company’s aged presses in the basement of its headquarters downtown.)
Material handler Gary Cook makes his way past the last few remaining rolls of paper that will be used to print the final editions of the Los Angeles Times at the Olympic plant.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
“This was to be a model for the world, not just Southern California,” said Tom Johnson, 82, publisher from 1980 to 1989.
It cost $230 million, the lion’s share of a nearly half-billion-dollar expenditure that saw the construction of a printing plant in Chatsworth and the renovation of an existing production facility in Costa Mesa. Those were halcyon days for The Times, whose revenue in 1991 topped $3.7 billion.
“Come visit the 21st century,” Times readers were encouraged in an advertisement inviting them to tour the new Olympic plant.
Its story was told by numbers: a 26-acre site; a 684,491-square-foot building; six presses capable of printing 70,000 96-page papers per hour; a 400,000-gallon underground water tank for fire suppression; six 6,200-gallon tanks of color ink; a warehouse capable of holding a 65-day supply of paper; and a 148-seat cafeteria for nearly 500 employees.
A view from the catwalk captures newspapers rolling off the presses at the Olympic printing plant.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Beyond the numbers was the Jetsons quality of the place.
Robotic vehicles delivered rolls of paper from the warehouse to machines that fed the presses. Doors opened at the push of a button. Conveyors whisked printed papers to automated bundlers and then to awaiting pallets, hands free.
At the center of it all were the six presses, three on one side and three on the other, running almost two football fields long, connected by a nearly soundproof room with windows angling overhead, providing press operators with easy line of sight and silent escape from the incessant 100-decibel thrum.
The lobby, as elegant as an art museum, was finished in marble and hardwood and featured a glass wall, three stories tall, overlooking the presses that receded far in the distance. In the floor lay a time capsule, a measure of the owner’s faith in the future, to be opened on the paper’s bicentennial: Dec. 4, 2081.
Retired press superintendent Bob Lampher, left, retired pressroom manager Jack Boethling, right, with packaging manager Durga Bhoj, recall the days when they worked in a thriving pressroom while visiting the Olympic plant.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Bob Lampher came to work at the Olympic plant in 1989 as the presses were being installed. He had started at the Times 22 years earlier, “a dream job” after working the presses for the Anaheim Bulletin, the Downey Southeast News and the Costa Mesa Daily Pilot.
“Oly” — as the plant was known — “was the most modern pressroom around,” said Lampher, 82, a retired superintendent. “When I first got here, my jaw dropped. It was simply beautiful, and I thought it would run forever.”
The assumption is forgivable. The Times’ weekday circulation — spread among the Olympic plant, as well as Orange County and the San Fernando Valley printing facilities — was 1.2 million; 1.5 million on Sundays. (Today, success is measured by digital subscriptions, currently close to 550,000.)
To meet that printed volume — for a newspaper so filled with advertising that it ranged from 100 to 200 pages daily (on the Sunday after Thanksgiving 1993, the paper was a whopping 592 pages) — managers choreographed a round-the-clock dance that pushed newsprint through the presses at nearly 30 mph, resulting in close to 60,000 papers printed in an hour.
The sound was like a thundering locomotive. Ink mist and paper dust flew through the air. Margins of error were unforgiving.
Retired pressroom manager Jack Boethling, left, and retired press superintendent Bob Lampher are framed by rollers of a printing press while walking through the Olympic printing plant.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
“When you’re doing it, it boggles the mind,” said Lampher, who left The Times in 2002. “I would go back tomorrow just to hear those presses running again.”
His buddy and former press room manager, Jack Boethling, 77, understands. “When you get ink in your veins, there’s nothing like the roar of the presses going at full speed.”
As the swing shift gets underway, Emmett Jaime pries inked plates off cylinders. A Dead Kennedys song plays on a radio boom box, as a bell rings a brief warning each time a cylinder turns.
Jaime, 56, plans to take a little time off before looking for another job. He’d like to work eight more years, but he followed his father to The Times when he was 19 and knows only this world.
John Martin, 60, sits at an operator’s console, studying a copy of a real estate section, whose advertiser is known to be especially picky. He’s making sure the columns of type and photographs sit squarely on the page with equal margins top and bottom.
“It’s been a great, great, great, great run,” he said, describing his 43 years with The Times. When he started, his seniority number was 380. He had hoped one day to make No. 1 but is satisfied to be No. 22.
Pressroom supervisor Kal Hamalainen walks through the paper warehouse that was once a thick forest of rolls stacked five high to the ceiling but is now almost empty.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
In the paper warehouse, Marcus Arnwine, 64, takes a quick inventory of the newsprint. Once a thick forest with rolls stacked five high to the ceiling, it is now a small glade as stock runs low.
“I’m going to miss the wealth of knowledge in this place,” said Arnwine, who started here when he was 20. “There was always someone here who knew something you needed to know.”
Neither Martin nor Arnwine is certain what their next step will be, whether to look for work or retire.
Later that evening, Adam Lee is in the plate room imprinting digital files, produced by editors and page designers, onto aluminum sheets. The air, bathed yellow by safe lights, smells of photographic chemicals and is filled with a rhythmic clicking and a shuttling swoosh.
Lee, 46, is one of the few who has a new job lined up. He started here 18 years ago, joining his stepmother and his uncle, as well his father, who put in 47 years before retiring.
His story is a familiar one: a pressroom of multigenerational employees banking on good benefits, good income and challenging work.
“When we first started,” Hamalainen said, “it was common for an old-timer to take a new hire aside and say, ‘Well, kid, you’ll have a job for life.’ ”
Pressman Sam Pulido ends each night of his shift by depositing the plates stripped from the presses into a bin.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Today in the building’s growing emptiness, they are still a community kept close by their commitment to that work, proud of their craft and eager to dazzle visitors with technical explanations of a job that took years to master: the speed of the paper, the proportions of water and ink, the ability to make a fix on the fly.
They knew there were risks. Some lost fingers in the presses or wrenched knees working on the floor. Some lost marriages to the strain of an unforgiving schedule.
As often as they held history in their hands — the Gulf War, 9/11, the invasion of Iraq, the death of John Wooden, of Kobe and the pandemic — the work never allowed lingering, and they never missed a deadline.
They lived by the clock and by schedules defined by the vastness of Southern California. They had to know when to finish a run to make a 6 a.m. delivery to Santa Barbara, San Diego, Palm Springs.
“Old news doesn’t sell,” Lampher said.
Ink specialist David Oma prepares to pull a newspaper from the conveyor belt to make sure the ink density is proper, the color is in registration, the margins are set, and the date is accurate.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
By 8:44, the presses are rolling at a modest clip. Crews grab from the conveyor early copies being sidelined as waste. They thumb through pages to make sure the ink density is proper, that the color is in registration, the margins are set, pagination perfect, date accurate.
They make refinements and by 9:15 set the throttle to a full gallop, 45,000 papers an hour. Overhead, the newsprint whips by in a blur, running through a succession of cylinders inked cyan, magenta, yellow and black, before converging into a central machine that folds and cuts it into individual papers.
They feel that familiar thrum in their chests. They breathe the moist, almost humid air, and still marvel that such brutish machinery can produce such delicate results.
“It’s like an NFL player who can also be a ballerina,” Hamalainen said. “There is so much strength, power, endurance and finesse in this equipment.”
They find it hard to believe that once they are done, the presses will be dismantled and sold for scrap. The building and the property will be turned into movie and television production studios, said a spokesperson for the owner, Atlas Capital Group.
Pressman Sam Pulido reviews newspapers at the Olympic printing plant, where the L.A. Times will stop being printed as of next week.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Then at 10:31, the pitch of the whirring presses begins to drop as they slow, soon coming to a stop with 107,481 copies printed.
A few minutes later, a voice comes over a loudspeaker: “No finals.”
And they are done. A conveyor clatters as the last papers are carried to the bundlers. The first delivery truck has already left. The last truck will leave at 12:45 a.m.
The swing shift now scatters. Some of the crew strip plates off the presses. Some sit back and read tomorrow’s news, eschewing The Times’ website for the printed paper. A few head to the cafeteria to watch a movie on their phones or to the fitness room for a few reps before heading home.
The witching hour has begun, a disquieting moment for them to have nothing to do. Usually, they’d be cleaning presses and getting ready for another run, but today such diligence doesn’t make much sense.
Hamalainen steps out onto the balcony where some of the crew has gathered.
From this vantage, the Olympic plant has always felt vital to Los Angeles. Two miles away, the skyscrapers of the financial district light up in the night sky, windows glowing against the darkness. City Hall glows blue and yellow in honor of Ukraine on the second anniversary of the war. Distant sirens and horns and the whoosh of the nearby freeway provide the accompanying pulse.
They speak easily among themselves, their emotions masked by familiar banter, old memories and pride.
“It used to be that the quietest time was Sunday morning,” said Hamalainen, once the week’s final run completed at 2:30 a.m.
“Yeah, and in those days, Macy’s was the big advertiser,” said pressman Joaquin Velazquez, 65. He started working at the Olympic plant in 1984. “Remember that? Now, maybe there will be one ad.”
“Used to be a 16-pounder on Black Fridays.”
“Yep, and more than a million papers every day.”
They know they’re running on habit and adrenaline. They know there will be a bit of a freefall once they’re done.
“They’re hiring at the Arizona Republic and the Bay Area News Group and the Las Vegas Review-Journal,” Hamalainen said. “There’s work, but you have to be willing to move away.”
Velazquez draws on his cigarette. Soon, he will no longer be commuting four hours a day from his home in Eastvale.
Retired press superintendent Bob Lampher, left, and retired pressroom manager Jack Boethling walk out of the Olympic printing plant for the last time.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
“It’s sad to see it come to an end like this, but we’re blessed to hit the finish line,” Velazquez said.
“You know, I think I’m going to sneak back in, just to see it all cleared out,” Hamalainen said. “This is going to be one big empty building.”
The highest gas prices in the country are making it tougher for some gig drivers to make a living.
Gas prices have shot up amid the war in the Middle East. On average, California gas prices are the most expensive in the United States, according to data from the American Automobile Assn. The average price of regular gas in California is almost $6. The national average is a little above $4.
While Uber and Lyft drivers have concocted clever ways to cut gas consumption, they say that without some relief they will be forced to leave the ride-hailing business.
John Mejia was already struggling to make money as a part-time Lyft driver when soaring gas prices made his side hustle even harder.
“Unfortunately, it’s the economics of paying less to drivers and gas prices,” he said. “It actually is pulling people out of the business.”
Guests at The Westin St. Francis hotel get into an Uber.
(Jess Lynn Goss / For The Times)
Gig work offers drivers the freedom to work for themselves and more flexibility, but being independent contractors also means they must shoulder unexpected costs.
Ride-sharing companies say they’re trying to help, but drivers say the gas relief comes with caveats. For now, drivers say they’re being pickier about what rides they accept, cutting hours and are looking at other ways to make money.
Mejia, who started driving for Lyft more than a decade ago, said in his early days, he would sometimes make $400 in three hours. Now it takes 12 hours to rake in $200.
The San Francisco Bay Area consultant is an active member of the California Gig Workers Union, so he knows he isn’t alone. California has more than 800,000 gig rideshare drivers, according to the group, which is affiliated with the Service Employees International Union.
On social media sites such as Reddit and Facebook, gig workers have posted about how the higher gas prices are eating into their earnings. Among the tricks they are suggesting: reducing the number of times the ignition is turned on or off, avoiding traffic, working in specific neighborhoods and at times with high demand and switching to electric vehicles.
Gig drivers usually have only seconds to decide whether to accept a ride on the app, but they have become more strategic about which rides and deliveries they accept.
That means they are more likely to sit back in their cars and wait for higher fares for quick pick-up and drop-off.
“I highly recommend the ‘decline and recline’ strategy, rejecting unprofitable rides until a better one appears,” wrote Sergio Avedian, a driver, in the popular blog the Rideshare Guy.
Pedestrians cross the street in front of a Lyft and Uber driver on Wednesday. High gas prices have made it hard for gig drivers to make a living, cutting into their profits.
(Jess Lynn Goss / For The Times)
Uber, Lyft and other companies have unveiled several ways to help drivers save on gas.
Uber said drivers can get up to 15% cash back through May 26 with the Uber Pro card, a business debit Mastercard for drivers and couriers. Based on a worker’s tier, they can get up to $1 off per gallon of gas through Upside — an app that offers cash rewards — and up to 21 cents off per gallon of gas with Shell Fuel Rewards. The company also offers incentives for drivers who want to switch to electric vehicles.
“We know the price of gas is top of mind for many rideshare and delivery drivers across the country right now,” Uber said in a blog post about its gas savings efforts.
Lyft also said it’s expanding gas relief through May 26 because the company knows that the extra cost “hits hardest for drivers who depend on driving for their income.”
The company is offering more cash back, depending on the driver’s tier, for drivers who use a Lyft Direct business debit card to pay for gas at eligible gas stations. They can get an additional 14 cents per gallon off through Upside.
Drivers say the fine print on the offers dictates which card they use and where they fill up gas, making it difficult for them to save money.
“If I do the math, it’s ridiculous,” Mejia said. “They’re offering us nothing.”
Uber declined to comment, but pointed to its blog post about the gas relief efforts. Lyft also referenced the blog post and said “the gas savings were structured through rewards to maximize stackable opportunities.”
Guests at The Westin St. Francis hotel get into an Uber.
(Jess Lynn Goss / For The Times)
Gig workers have struggled with rising gas prices in the past.
In 2022, Lyft and Uber temporarily added a surcharge to their fares amid record-high gas prices following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. This year, Uber is adding a fuel charge to its fares in Australia for roughly two months to offset the high cost of gas for drivers. Lyft said it hasn’t added a fuel charge in the U.S. or elsewhere.
Margarita Penalosa, who drives full time for Uber and Lyft in Los Angeles, started as a rideshare driver in 2017. Back then, gas was cheaper. She would easily hit her goal of making $300 in eight hours. Now she’s making just $250 after working as much as 14 hours.
Gas prices, she said, used to be less than $3 per gallon. Now some gas stations are charging more than $8 per gallon.
“Take out the gas. Take out the mileage from my car and maintenance. How much [do] I really make? Probably I get $11 for an hour,” she said.
Jonathan Tipton Meyers wants to spend fewer hours as a rideshare driver.
He already juggles multiple gigs even while driving for Uber and Lyft in Los Angeles. He’s a mobile notary and loan signing agent, a writer and performer.
Driving is “a very challenging, full-time job,” he said. “It’s very taxing and, of course, wages were just continually decreasing.”
John Mejia, a longtime Lyft and Uber driver, poses for a portrait before attending a meeting about unionizing gig drivers.
(Jess Lynn Goss / For The Times)
Even if oil continues to flow through the Strait of Hormuz, which Iran reopened Friday, it could take a while for gas prices to come down to earth, said Mark Zandi, the chief economist at Moody’s Analytics.
“There’s an old adage that prices rise like a rocket and fall like a feather,” he said. “I think that’ll apply.”
In the meantime, it will be survival of the fittest drivers. If enough of them decide to leave the apps, the ride-hailing companies could be forced to raise fares further to attract some back.
“Those who approach rideshare driving strategically, tracking expenses, choosing trips carefully, and optimizing efficiency are far more likely to weather periods of high gas prices,” wrote Avedian in the Rideshare Guy blog. “For everyone else, a spike at the pump can quickly turn rideshare driving from a side hustle into a money-losing venture.”
The proprietor of Los Angeles’ legendary Clifton’s has given up on reopening the shuttered venue.
It’s just too difficult to do business in downtown’s historic core, he says.
Andrew Meieran bought Clifton’s on Broadway in 2010 and poured more than $14 million into repairs, renovations and upgrades, adding additional bar and restaurant spaces in the four-story building. In 2018, he found that demand for cafeteria food was too low to be profitable, and he pivoted to a nightclub and lounge concept called Clifton’s Republic, featuring multiple dining and drinking venues. Meieran has tried elaborate themed environments, such as a tiki bar and forest playgrounds, and renting out the location for big events to spark more interest.
It was never easy, but during and since the pandemic, the neighborhood has grown increasingly unsafe as downtown has emptied of office workers and visitors.
Storefronts are gated up due to vandalism in the historic district in downtown Los Angeles on Tuesday.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
The alley behind Clifton’s Cafeteria in the downtown historic district Tuesday.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
Vandalism has been rampant, with graffiti appearing on the historic structure almost daily. Vandals would use acid or diamond glass cutters to deface the windows, often cracking the glass. It would cost Meieran more than $30,000 each time to replace the windows. Insurance companies either stopped offering policies that covered vandalism or raised premiums by as much as 600%, he said.
There has been continuous crime in the area, he said, including multiple assaults on people in front of his building. He last shut the venue last year, hoping things would improve and he could come back with a business that could work. Now he has given up. Someone else may take over the space or even the name of the historic spot, but he is done trying.
“We’ve lost our way,” Meieran said. “I want to get up on the tops of the skyscrapers and yell that people need to pay attention to this.”
The disenchantment of a business leader who used to be one of downtown L.A.’s biggest backers shines a spotlight on the stubborn safety concerns, rising costs and thinner foot traffic that have made it increasingly difficult for even iconic businesses to survive.
The once-popular institution dates back to 1935, when it was a Depression-era cafeteria and kitschy oasis that sold as many as 15,000 meals a day when Broadway was the city’s entertainment hub.
It served traditional cafeteria food such as pot roast, mashed potatoes and Jell-O in a woodsy grotto among fake redwood trees and a stone-wrapped waterfall reminiscent of Brookdale Lodge in Northern California.
It’s not the only once-prominent destination that has failed to find a way to flourish in today’s market. Cole’s, one of L.A.’s most famous restaurants and often credited with inventing the French dip sandwich, closed last month after a 118-year run.
“The bigger problem for us and the rest of the industry is the high cost of doing business,” said Cedd Moses, who used to operate Cole’s and has backed many other bars and restaurants in historic buildings downtown for decades. “That’s what is killing independent restaurants in this city.”
Outside of Clifton’s Cafeteria.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
Clifton’s Republic owner Andrew Meieran stands next to a boat on the top floor of the historic restaurant in 2024.
(Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
Clifton’s opened and closed repeatedly during the pandemic and, more recently, after a burst pipe caused extensive damage. Meieran opened it for special events such as last Halloween, but it has otherwise been closed.
Police are woefully understaffed and hampered by public policy, said Blair Besten, president of downtown’s Historic Core Business Improvement District, a nonprofit that arranges graffiti removal, trash pickup and safety patrols in the area.
Businesses and residents in the area would like to see a bigger police presence, but there have been protests against that by people who are not from downtown, she said.
“People are starting to see the fruits of the defunding movement,” she said. “It has not led us to a better place as a city.”
The Los Angeles Police Department is making progress downtown, Captain Kelly Muniz said, with violent crime down more than 10% from last year.
“While we’re working very hard to solve crime, to prevent crime, there are still elements such as trash, open-air drug use, homelessness and graffiti,” she said. “We’re swinging in the right direction.”
Retailers have been opting out of downtown L.A., said real estate broker Derrick Moore of CBRE, who helps arrange commercial property leases. Brands have headed to more vibrant nearby neighborhoods such as Echo Park and Silver Lake.
“A lot of operators are just electing to skip over downtown,” he said. “They’re leasing spaces elsewhere, where they feel they have a greater chance at higher sales.”
A man walks past a pile of trash left on the street in the historic district.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
While some businesses are struggling, many downtown residents say their perceptions of safety are improving and that the area is regaining some vibrancy.
“A lot of people live here. I think people forget that,” Besten said. “We’re all surviving. It’s just hard for all the businesses to survive.”
A green shoot for the Historic Core is Art Night on the first Thursday of every month, when 50 or 60 locations, including permanent art galleries and pop-up galleries in unused storefronts, display art to map-toting visitors who come for the occasion.
They often end up in Spring Street bars, which more typically thrive on weekend nights but are still a draw to downtown.
“I think nightlife will thrive downtown, since bars attract people that don’t mind a little grittier atmosphere,” said Moses. “Our sales are hitting new records at our bars downtown, fortunately, but our costs have risen dramatically.”
A closed sign for Clifton’s Cafeteria.
(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)
Clifton’s former backer, Meieran, says he doesn’t think things are going to bounce back enough to warrant more massive investment. He has sold the building, and the owner is looking for a new tenant to occupy Clifton’s space. He still controls the Clifton’s name.
While there is still a chance he could let someone else use the name Clifton’s, Meieran is done for now — too many bad memories.
“There was a guy who was terrorizing the front of Clifton’s because he decided he wanted to live in the vestibule in front, and he didn’t want us to operate there,” Meieran said. “He would threaten to kill anybody who came through.”
He doesn’t believe official statistics that show crime and homelessness are way down in the area, and he doesn’t want to restart a business when criminals can so easily erase his hard work.
“What business that’s already on thin margins can survive that?” he said.
Trader Joe’s customers might soon get a payout from the popular grocery chain.
The Monrovia-based company agreed to a $7.4-million settlement in a class action lawsuit that claimed customers were left vulnerable to identity theft.
Customers who purchased items with a credit or debit card from March to July in 2019 might be eligible for a payment as part of the settlement.
The plaintiff alleged that some receipts printed in 2019 included 10-digit credit or debit card numbers —double what’s allowed under the Fair and Accurate Credit Transactions Act.
Trader Joe’s “vigorously denies any and all liability or wrongdoing whatsoever,” the grocery chain said in the settlement website. The grocery chain decided to settle to avoid a long and costly litigation process.
The payout will go toward paying impacted customers as well as attorney fees and other expenses.
About $2.6 million will go toward attorney fees, and the plaintiff will receive a $10,000 incentive payment, according to the settlement. The remaining funds will be distributed evenly among customers who submit valid claims.
It’s unclear how much money each customer would get, but the payout could be about $102, according to the settlement notice.
To receive the payout, customers must have received a receipt displaying the first six and last four digits of the card number.
Some customers identified as part of the settlement class have been notified and received a class ID number to file a claim.
Customers have from now until June 6 to file a claim online or by phone.
A customer not identified in the settlement can still submit a claim by entering the first six and last four digits of the card used, along with the date it was used at Trader Joe’s.
Brian Keim, the plaintiff who brought the case, used his debit card at stores in Florida in 2019. He said some stores printed transaction receipts that included the first six and last four digits of customers’ card numbers.
The receipts did not include other personal information, such as the middle digits of the users’ cards, the cards’ expiration dates, or the users’ addresses. No customer has reported identity theft as a result of the receipts since the lawsuit was filed, the grocer said.
However, identity theft doesn’t require submitting a claim for payment.
The settlement was agreed upon by both the grocer and the plaintiff, but still has to be approved by a court. A hearing is set in August.
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