It has been more than three decades since I returned to work from a noon union meeting to find myself, along with about twenty others, locked out of the printing plant where we worked. Thus began a labor dispute that started in confusion, descended into torpor and ended in disarray.
The difference between labor and management at the time the dispute started was miniscule; less than twenty-five cents an hour. When a union rejects an employer’s last and final offer the employer is entitled to prevent employees from returning to work–hence the term “lock out,” which is now familiar to millions of Americans because Americans making millions–pro football and basketball players–have both been locked out in the past few years.
When we learned we’d been locked out, we organized a picket line, as was our right. For five weekday shifts of three hours a day each union member would receive $100. Not a big weekly wage, even in the mid-70′s, but if you found a part-time job or one with night hours, you could do all right.
Fred Allen
Our picket line was set up not on a city street but on Route 20 in central Massachusetts; to steal a formula from radio comedian Fred Allen, a nice place to visit if you’re a truck. There are no sidewalks along that highway, which was originally the Boston Post Road, the first mail route between Boston and New York, and which subsequently developed into a major trucking route. With no foot traffic, our picket line was visible only to cars and trucks speeding by, and we must have struck passers-by as pathetic, or even ridiculous. The scenery rarely changed except for the weather and the flora; in the winter the field beside us was covered in snow, and in the summer a few blue cornflowers bloomed. I recall once or twice people stopping their cars–at significant personal risk–to give us donuts. More frequent were uplifted middle fingers–the state bird of Massachusetts.
In the United States picketing is legal as long as workers do not intimidate others or obstruct a public way; hence, the need to keep moving, so as not to block other’s passage. As is the case with most employers, the owner of the printing company hired an off-duty policeman to make sure we complied with that requirement, but given that the only object likely to cross our picket line was a truck, we eventually worked out a compromise. As long as we didn’t throw nails in the driveway, the cop wouldn’t force us to keep moving.
Marlon Brando in “On the Waterfront”
In another, less isolated location, our picket line might have attracted students, politicians or even an entertainer or two; the young and idealistic, and those who live by publicity and like to make a show of solidarity with picketers. A forlorn stretch of highway an hour’s drive from Boston is, as you can imagine, an inconvenient forum for grandstanding by elected officials and actors.
If you are planning on picking a fight with an employer, my recommendation is that you consider not merely location, but also the season. Picket lines are manned (and womanned) by human beings, whose enthusiasm for concerted action may be expected to cool along with the temperature. We chose the month of November to take a stand, which meant that we were soon walking in a New England winter.
You learn a lot about a person when you’re assigned to walk with them in the cold and they skip out on you; to paraphrase an old country song, when nobody shows up, I’ll know it’s you. For the most part, such absences passed without comment. Our shop steward, who received and handed out the strike pay, might give someone a look of disapproval as she handed over his weekly check, but she had kids, and couldn’t spend her off hours taking attendance, and we weren’t going to turn each other in; it would have made what was a boring task into an unpleasant one.
As one considers the various players in the drama that a picket line affords, the difference in economic status begins to grate. The plant owner, who ultimately decided to sell his business, made out all right. The union bosses drove nicer cars and had nicer clothes than we did. The lawyers for the two sides, we were told, were paid hundreds of dollars an hour–a sum beyond our wildest dreams of avarice–and yet nothing of consequence ever seemed to happen as a result of their efforts.
Ultimately, running a union is a business, and the men who controlled our union weren’t going to pay us to picket forever. Just as we had been locked out of the plant, we were eventually told that we would receive no more strike pay. We could continue to walk the picket line, but there’d be no money in it.
At about that time the National Labor Relations Board handed down its decision; the owner was within his rights to lock us out, and our claims of unfair labor practices were denied. We could go back to work at the hourly wages that had been in effect when the dispute started, but none of us would receive back pay–except for one man, Hector, who had not yet become a member of the union when the dispute started, nine months before. The boss’s actions were deemed unfair in his case.
I got nine months’ worth of strike pay for my time on the picket line, plus the material for a play that will be performed in New York at the Thespis Theatre Festival on October 17th, 18th and 21st. I suppose it’s ironic that the cast will be composed entirely of non-union actors. I’ll pay them only what I can, not union scale, and will still lose money on it.
I also gained a few lessons which have proved useful over the years. First, taking a stand on principle can be costly, and you can’t eat principle. A good thing to know when you feel the urge to sacrifice yourself for a noble cause, or the theory of an armchair radical. (That knowledge notwithstanding, I’ve taken the plunge a few times since in support of the cause of inner-city education.)
And second, if you pick cornflowers for your girlfriend, by the time you get to her apartment they will have lost their blue color and turned a mottled, grayish white.
The bloom fades from some bright ideas more quickly than others.
Reblogged this on Justacceptit's Blog.
Thanks.
Really a great article, This article hit home for me in two ways first I remember my daddy walking the picket line for weeks, money got real skinny during those times but us kids never went hungry, secondly I almost know the location you speak of and I could see that stretch of road on route 20 in my minds eye I’ve traveled that stretch of road many times as an over the road truck driver and may have even been at your work site before. It’s sad that in the end things didn’t work out but as another reply: Gianna said “You’re right in that you can’t eat principles, but your pride and your beliefs you can take with you to your very last breath.” I agree with her
Interesting. For the most part we didn’t have deliveries from semi-trailer trucks, they would have been too big. Most were pick up and deliveries for local distribution. Every now and then somebody would stop and give you donuts or coffee, but as you know it’s not a place where somebody can stop easily or safely, high-speed traffice and no breakdown lane.
Well being at your work site was just a maybe to many places I’ve been to keep them in order but the route 20 was mostly what I was thinking about and that one tiny truck stop in the middle of no where, we parked in the dirt across the road and dodged traffic on foot. Nothing else was there
The only time I was asked to join a union many decades ago, in the car manufacturing sector, I was part of management! The person asking me thought all women must have been non-management and, therefore, should join the union. I’ve never joined a union, but can understand the principles of fighting for what is right and decent. I sometimes wonder if it is really worth it for such small sums; I’d be asking for much more! At least, you got a play out of it!
You don’t get a choice in Mass., where I live, you have to join. I was just a typesetter, didn’t do the heavy lifting of the press operators.
Unions…A group of thugs who collect money from a group of sheep which will always end with the the thugs eating and living a better life than the sheep.
NLRB members are appointed by the President subject to confirmation by Senate. Yes they side with workers about as often as they rule in favor of management. As to “accepting” their decision you can always appeal, but if you lose your last appeal it’s final and has the force of a court order. You can find this basic info at nlrb.com.
Have to laugh at the person saying social media…. Social media is ran by corporations who want to crush us…. Next I have this point: why are you so sure you should not get those 25 cents an hour? Because some bunch of businesscentric beaurcrats ajudicated against you? When have they EVER backed a strike in your country in the last 20 years? After all not EVERY strike can be without good reason.
here is my blog, check it out: http://thespacebetween2.wordpress.com/
Should not or would not? As to “should not,” we all thought the increase was justified but that’s not what the NLRB adjudicates. They are an umpire as to unfair labor practices, they don’t set the score. As to “would not,” the owner refused to agree to the increase so that was a “would not,” and when that happens a war of attrition begins. Walking in subzero temps wears one down.
Who sets the score? Do they ever take the workers side? They should. What kind of people work at the NLRB? People who have worked for huge corporations in senior positions or public sector minded people? You said somewhere that you respect the NLRB decision, I really don’t know why a worker should except anyone who denies them a fair deal. We are not talking overpaid sports stars here but regular people who deserve to be rewarded fairly with a living wage.
May I ask why you consider it a worthy cause when the National Labor Relations Board decided that the owner acted within his rights, and that his practices weren’t unfair?
To me, this is the problem with unions. Even when shown to be wrong, they delude themselves. Why? Because, as you wrote, unions are a business. They need you to fight for more, so they can get more members and their union dues.
You’re reading something into this that isn’t there. The rules of the lockout are what they are, and were what they were back then. I didn’t say they were unfair–in fact, the law in this area is fairly well-balanced, the result of many years of fact-based decisions. I did find it ironic–as did many others involved–that the only person to get compensated was a new hire who hadn’t been there long enough to become part of the union but who joined the picket line anyway.
The play I got out of the experience is (I hope) even-handed, not agit-prop, as were the facts of the case. The owner was a small businessman, not a big company, who simply couldn’t afford to pay more. I’ve seen it from the other side now too, a company that went under shortly after it was unionized. A lot of entry-level jobs with flexible hours lost for working mothers.
Great, heart-felt account. I can’t ever decide what to do with unions: they are a necessary force to ensure that workers are treated fairly, and yet it seems that as soon as union bosses become that, they forget about the ‘union’ part and become just another set of ‘bosses’.
Great article, congrats on being “Freshly Pressed”. I have been a union electrician for over 44 years and have done my share of picketing, not 9 months worth tho. I identify with your thoughts and feelings about the strike and your fellow workers, but as you found out: you have to work through that.
Happy Labor Day, brother. We are in this together for the long haul.
Allan
i really love this article! such a terrific post! thank you for sharing this one! im looking forward for more fresh articles!
good picture …
Thanks for sharing this.
Unions are now so rare and so weak in the U.S. that many people don’t even know what they are or why they (should) exist. I wrote my recent book, “Malled: MY Unintentional Career in Retail” about retail work and many of those jobs are appalling — terrible wages, part-time work, split shifts, no benefits, bonus or commission. I wrote, in outrage of getting a 30-cent-hour “raise” in 2008. A woman who read my book, working for another major retailer, told me she’d received one — of ten cents.
In 1954, a Broadway musical, The Pajama Game, focused on factory workers unhappy with their pay…demanding 7.5 cents more an hour.
I wish more people had a clue about labor history.
Well, with the vast growth of internet shopping, retail jobs are disappearing. Once the owners start losing money between the rising costs of rent, power, goods, and employees while everything always seems to get cheaper online, they tend to close their doors. I’ve worked a little retail, and it’s darn hard work, so I understand your complaints.
Reblogged this on Proletarian Center for Research, Education and Culture and commented:
A heartfelt, first-hand account from the front lines of the class war.
I enjoyed your account of a battle at the front lines of the class war. What we desperately need is for the ranks of the working class to grow more and more class-conscious. The greater our numbers the more easily things will go. It’s proving to be a very difficult struggle, but men and women of integrity have no choice but to fight. Perhaps we should begin to consider a wide range of tactics in this quite literal war. It’s going to take courage and sacrifice. We need unity of action. I urge all those who yearn for a better world to join some group fighting for change; start small. Just doing something (anything), taking some direct action, is better than doing nothing at all.
Thanks for commenting.
True that you can’t eat principles, but that is why these people stick to their guns, they know eventually you have to eat. Picketing for picketings sake is what gets unions offside with non-union folks, but picketing for a just cause should get the support. Not sure about the US but here many of the Union leaders are stirrers and extremists that whip their members up into a frenzy, not a good look!
Thanks for commenting. We–union and workers–overplayed our hand. As Charles Mackay said in Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, “Men go mad in herds.”
It was the winter of 75-76. Only social media back then was word of mouth
Reblogged this on Shark Tank Monsters and commented:
Corporate sharks…they’re everywhere too.
It’s all entirely frustrating that unions have to exist in the first place, but it’s for cases like yours that they do. It’s even more frustrating that you weren’t able to receive what you wanted. Nonetheless, I’m proud of you for standing up for your principles. You’re right in that you can’t eat principles, but your pride and your beliefs you can take with you to your very last breath.
You mentioned location and time of year, and I think those are key, but I’m just wondering, did your union utilize social media to get the word out? Social media is a great tool to utilize for visibility of your cause.
This is a great article! I love first-hand history.
http://stepstochangetheworld.wordpress.com/
Really interesting article. It’s hard to stand up for your principles, especially if you can’t afford it.