Teen's Death Exposes Exploitation: Are Child Labor Laws Failing Us?

In March 2023, a teenager plummeted to his death from a roof in Jamesport, Missouri, working for Troyer Roofing & Coatings. The U.S. Department of Labor’s investigation laid bare a chilling truth: this wasn’t an isolated accident. John Troyer, the company’s owner, had flouted federal laws, employing minors in dangerous roofing jobs and failing to provide basic fall protection. The price for this negligence? A $290,000 penalty package, split between OSHA fines, child labor violations, and criminal penalties. But no amount of money can erase the loss of a young life, nor can it mask the deeper rot in an industry too often shielded from accountability.

This story hits hard because it’s personal. That teen could have been anyone’s son, brother, or friend, stepping into a job with dreams of earning a paycheck, only to find himself betrayed by an employer who valued profit over safety. The Department of Labor’s findings paint a grim picture: from May 2022 to June 2023, Troyer illegally put kids to work in a trade where falls remain the leading cause of death. It’s a stark reminder that workplace protections aren’t just bureaucratic red tape; they’re lifelines for the vulnerable.

What stings even more is how preventable this was. OSHA’s fall protection rules are clear: guardrails or harnesses for anyone working near a roof’s edge. Troyer ignored them. The Wage and Hour Division uncovered a pattern of child labor violations, too, exposing a reckless disregard for laws designed to keep kids out of harm’s way. This isn’t just one bad apple; it’s a symptom of a system that too often lets employers off the hook while workers, especially the youngest among us, pay the ultimate price.

Let’s zoom out for a moment. In 2023, the Department of Labor documented 955 child labor violations across the country, affecting nearly 5,800 kids. Construction sites, meatpacking plants, you name it, kids are slipping through the cracks, and the consequences are deadly. Fatal falls, equipment mishaps, these aren’t rare flukes; they’re the predictable outcome of lax oversight and a culture that shrugs at exploitation. Meanwhile, some states, like Iowa, have rolled back protections, letting teens take on hazardous tasks despite federal warnings. It’s a race to the bottom, and young workers are the collateral damage.

Troyer’s case isn’t unique. History backs this up. Back in the Industrial Revolution, children toiled in factories and mines, their small hands exploited for cheap labor until reformers fought for the Fair Labor Standards Act in 1938. That law set a floor: no kids under 16 in dangerous jobs, 18 for the riskiest ones. Yet here we are, nearly a century later, watching those hard-won gains erode. Enforcement gaps, like exemptions for family businesses, let violators like Troyer skirt the rules. The result? A teen’s life snuffed out, and a measly $290,000 fine that barely dents the bottom line.

Opponents might argue businesses need flexibility, that regulations stifle growth. They’ll say Troyer’s punishment, including mandatory safety consultations, is enough to set things right. But that’s a hollow excuse. Flexibility doesn’t justify putting kids on roofs without harnesses. Fines and consultations are a slap on the wrist when the real fix lies in tougher laws and real accountability. OSHA’s penalty hikes in 2025, pushing willful violation fines to $165,514, are a start, but they’re meaningless if enforcement stays spotty and employers keep gambling with lives.

The ethical weight here is crushing. Employing teens illegally, skipping safety gear, it’s not just a legal breach; it’s a moral failure. Companies like Troyer Roofing thrive by cutting corners, banking on the fact that a fine is cheaper than doing the right thing. Meanwhile, families grieve, and workers, especially the youngest and least experienced, bear the brunt. Data from 1994 to 2013 shows teens aged 15 to 24 are far more likely to get hurt on the job than older workers. That’s not a statistic; it’s a call to action.

What’s maddening is the patchwork of state responses. While California tightens its roofing safety rules, aligning with federal standards by dropping fall protection thresholds to six feet, other states loosen the reins. This inconsistency breeds chaos, leaving workers at the mercy of geography. Troyer’s forced enrollment in Missouri’s On-Site Safety and Health Consultation Program is a step, sure, but it’s reactive, not preventive. Programs like these, while valuable, have saved millions in injury costs elsewhere, like Massachusetts, yet they’re no substitute for binding, nationwide protections.

So where do we go from here? The answer isn’t more fines or voluntary programs that let offenders opt in after the damage is done. It’s about building a system that stops these tragedies before they start. That means beefing up OSHA’s budget, hiring more inspectors, and closing loopholes that let kids slip into dangerous jobs. It means mandatory safety training for every worker, especially teens, so they know their rights and how to spot a deathtrap. And it means holding employers like John Troyer to a higher standard, not just with penalties, but with laws that make negligence a non-starter.

This fight matters because it’s about who we are. Do we value a teen’s life as much as a company’s profit margin? The answer has to be yes. Troyer’s story is a gut punch, but it’s also a rallying cry. We’ve got the tools, OSHA’s fall protection rules, the Fair Labor Standards Act, consultation programs that work when used right. Now we need the will to enforce them, to say enough is enough, and to protect the next kid who just wants a fair shot at a paycheck without risking everything.