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Early in the war a shortage of machine tools created a bottleneck
in defense production and the federal government gave machine tool
manufacturers top priority on men and materials. These manufacturers
were also guaranteed liberal profits under a straight cost-plus
pricing procedure. Brown and Sharpe, the nation's oldest and biggest
producer of machine tools, decided the time was ripe to drive the
IAM out of its seventeen plants in Providence, Rhode Island. For
three months, spanning much of the summer and fall of 1951, almost
5,000 members of Local Lodge 1088 and 1142 walked the picket line.
Founded in 1833, Brown and Sharpe was viciously and violently
anti-union from its earliest beginnings. The firm was founding
member of the National Metal Trades Association and for generations
routinely called upon NMTA to supply armed union busters whenever
union organizers were thought to be in the vicinity. Former IP
William Johnston tried to organize Brown and Sharpe at the turn of
the century, but the company successfully maintained a strict open
shop until 1941 when the workers finally gained union representation
under the protection of the Wagner Act. By the time of the Korean
War many protections guaranteed by the Wagner Act had been erased by
Taft-Hartley.
After three months the company agreed to some minor
concessions, apparently confident the strikers would come running
back with gratitude. When members of both locals overwhelmingly
rejected the offer Al Hayes offered to sit down personally with the
company's top negotiators. According to the Machinist he
hammered out an agreement which established the highest wage rates
in the area and seemed to signal a new acceptance of unionism by the
company. However time proved this was not the end of the deep-seated
animus against unions at Brown and Sharpe; this was but one more
battle in a hundred years' war.
As the presidential campaign between Dwight D. Eisenhower and
Adlai Stevenson peaked in the late summer of 1952 more than 53,000
IAM members at Lockheed and Douglas plants in California picked up
picket signs and walked. This first strike at Lockheed became
inevitable when 99% of the members participating in a strike vote
rejected a company offer of 7¢ an hour plus a 2¢ cost-of-living
adjustment. According to the Machinist this would have left their
wage scaled below rates approved by the Wage Stabilization Board for
the other companies in the air frame industry. The walkouts shut
Lockheed and Douglas down tight. The various local and district
lodges involved kept morale high by setting up committees to insure
that pickets were fed and needy families received groceries,
clothing and other necessities.
The strike at Lockheed, which began about the time delegates
were gathering for the 1952 Grand Lodge Convention in Kansas City,
was "recessed" two weeks lager and then settled a week
later when the company offered raises ranging from 10 to 16 cents
and hour plus a health and welfare plan (which cost Lockheed almost
a nickel and hour per employee), two weeks vacation after one year,
six days sick leave and six paid holidays. The settlement at
Douglas, some weeks later, was roughly similar. Interestingly, while
Lockheed members were striking in California, Lockheed members at
Marietta, Georgia repelled a CIO raid by a vote of 5,310 to 2,145.
Health and Welfare and Other Fringe Benefits
The late '40s and early '50s were years when unions pioneered
the first bare-bone prototypes for the comprehensive health care and
pension plans most workers take for granted today. Later generations
of workers find it hard to believe that as late as the 1930s and
1940s employees usually received nothing more for their labor than
pay for hours actually worked. Such fringes as paid holidays, sick
leave, vacations, health and welfare plans and pensions all had to
be won by years of patient negotiation or, more often, weeks and
months of sacrifice on picket lines.
One of the IAM's earliest health and welfare plans was
developed by DBR Lloyd Weber of District 9 in St. Louis in 1949. As
reported in the Machinist the plan required an employer payment of
$4.85 a month for each IAM member. It provided $1,000 life
insurance, plus $1,000 for accidental death, loss of limb or sight,
$25.00 a week accident and sick benefits for thirteen weeks,
hospitalization of $5.00 a day for thirty-one days plus $100 for
special charges and $150 for surgery. Today this seems pitifully
inadequate but at the time it represented far more than anything
most workers had. More importantly, it provided a base upon which
more comprehensive plans could be built. The St. Louis plan became a
pattern for other and, as time went on, even better plans developed
by districts in Cleveland, New York City, Chicago, Minneapolis-St.
Paul and other centers of IAM strength. By 1951, the GVP's in the
Great Lakes and Midwest territories announced that health and
welfare plans were in operation and available to all locals and
districts under their jurisdiction.
In April 1955 the IAM became the first union to adopt a
detailed code governing the establishment and administration of
health and welfare plans. A circular letter to all staff and local
and district lodge officers laid down strict standards. It warned
that any IAM officer of representative who took any kind of payment
from and insurance company would be removed. The standard also
required lodges to press charges before appropriate state or federal
agencies if an insurer or employer acted improperly. Complete
records and regular audits were mandated. Investment of welfare fund
reserves in the business of the employer or any other party of
interest was strictly prohibited. As a result of this early
preventative action, health and welfare funds negotiated by the IAM
have been remarkably free of corruption of misuse.
Boomer Jones Sings a Song of Labor
For generations IAM officers and members communicated with one
another mainly through the pages of the Machinist Journal. As
previously noted, the weekly Machinist was launched shortly
after the second World War to give a far lager and more diverse
membership more sprightly, more frequent and more concise
information about the union and its activities.
In the early years the Journal could assume that it was
speaking to members emotionally committed to union principles in
general and the IAM in particular. By the late '40s the Machinist
was addressing a different breed of membership. The rock-ribbed
loyalties of the past had been diluted by numbers and diversity.
Moreover, by the 1950's a union could not be content merely to keep
its own membership informed. A new age of public relations had begun
When the Public Relations Society of America was founded in 1948
there were about 100 PR firms in the entire country and fewer than
50 PR departments in all industry. But with new kinds of media and
increasing competition for favorable notice corporations and
organizations became increasingly concerned with "image".
No longer was it enough for a company to make a good product. The
age of marketing arrived and with it the need for professionals
specializing in advertising and public relations. In the early 1950s
more the 1,000 public relations firms sprang up in New York City
alone.
Like their counterparts in industry union leaders became
conscious of a need to do better in reaching both their own members
and the general public. In the 1930's and '40s unions had eliminated
most of the worst abuse and exploitation in the workplace. As the
post-war generation took over, unions had to "sell"
themselves to new members who had little or no memory of the past.
Having successfully organized most major industries in smoke-stack
America unions had to move against hardcore targets in traditionally
hostile areas. In the face of such anti-union roadblocks as
Taft-Hartley and right-to-work laws in almost half the states,
unions had to try to convert a mass of apathetic members into
political activists. Continuously smeared by charges of crime,
corruption and communism in the big business press labor turned to
public relations to try to show the ways in which unions were
necessary and beneficial to society.
Unlike Harvey Brown, who had viewed the IAM as a semi-secret
society whose business was of no damn concern to anyone else, Al
Hayes realized it was time to open some windows to the world. The
responsibility for fostering a more favorable image both in and out
of the union fell to Gordon Cole, the energetic and imaginative
editor who made the Machinist one of the most readable and
attractively laid out of all institutional publications. Cole was
not only ready but eager to expand his audience and spread the union
story.
Among other things he began sending the Machinist to
every member of Congress and key members of most state legislatures.
When Hayes or other IAM officers spoke at universities or before
business groups the IAM's public relations department informed the
media through timely press releases. Cole also fed upbeat items on
bargaining breakthroughs to the press as they developed. He began
inviting reporters from the labor press to drop by for interviews,
backgrounders or to get acquainted with key IAM people. Later he
arranged for local and district lodges to put the Machinist
into the libraries of hundreds of high schools. At one time he
published a series of "Pamphlets-of-the-Month giving the
union's view on timely issues. Searching further for new ideas Cole
recalled that the IWW had stirred many a worker's heart with
rousing, rollicking tunes and lyrics from their "Little Red
Songbook". He took a train to New York where he met with
two commercially successful pros from Tin Pan Alley, a composer
named Gerald Marks, who had written top pop hits in the '30s and
'40s, and a lyricist, Milton Pascal, who had musical credits on
Broadway. Both came from union families. Sensing a sincere feeling
for the labor movement, Cole contracted with Marks and Pascal for
eight original songs for a Machinist songbook.
The tunes were unveiled in songbooks and records. They dealt
with issues instantly familiar to working families. One satirized
the plight of a worker without a pension, "A Pin For Your
Lapel," another laid down a warning to two-faced politicians,
"The Guy I Send to Congress," still another spoofed
managements too miserly to pay a living wage, "Let's All Shed a
Tear." While these and other songs in the set said the right
things, they never really caught on. The Machinist faithfully
plugged them for months and tried to get local and district lodges
to push them on their local radio stations, but they sank with
hardly a trace and have long since been forgotten.
Though the effort was worthy it proved only that union songs
can't be ground out commercially, that they must spring
spontaneously out of the trials and triumphs of those fighting for
social and economic justice. That is why those who sing union songs
today still sing "Solidarity Forever," "Joe
Hill," Pie in the Sky" and the other bittersweet classics
of Labor's past struggles.
Cole had somewhat greater success with another non-print media
effort. For Labor Day, 1950, he produced a first class radio
docu-drama based on the IAM's early beginnings. He called it
"Boomer Jones." It was written by one of the top script
writers in radio and directed by Mel Ferrer. Major roles were played
by three of the top Hollywood stars of that time: William Holden,
Marie McDonald, and Brian Donlevy. It was broadcast coast-to-coast
on the Mutual network the Sunday before Labor Day. Later it was
available on records and for years many IAM lodges used it to
introduce the union to new members and the public.
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