4-25-06, 11:00 am
Mary did not mind moving fast in the morning. It allowed her another half hour of needed sleep. Near the corner of her street, a homeless man was sleeping on the sidewalk. He was stretched over a vent that put out slightly warm air. Mary did not slow down; she knew she had to go on to work. But her heart hurt. It was wrong to do nothing. “Maybe he’ll freeze to death,” she worried. “Richest country in the world!” she muttered angrily.
The bus was already half full. Mary was not the only Chicagoan rushing to a 7 a.m. job. Most on the bus were African American, like Mary. At the transfer point, the Washington Street bus was waiting. Good! Mary would not have to use her “superwoman” speed to outrun the bus to the next stop. She was a fast runner. “Fast as the wind,” her mother used to proudly say. The day before, the bus was pulling out just as Mary got to the transfer point. Without thinking, she put out a burst of speed and caught the bus at the next stop. To Mary’s embarrassment, the passengers all applauded.
Getting to work a few minutes early gave Mary time to buy a cup of coffee and a donut. Otherwise, the 9 a.m. coffee break was the first chance to put something solid into her stomach. That 15-minute morning coffee break was the best time of the day. Lunch was only 30 minutes. That was barely long enough to walk to the cafeteria, wait in line, get a quick lunch and walk back to her workstation.
Many workers at Elco Parts took the paid coffee break for granted. But Mary’s grandmother had told her what it was like in the 1930’s before the union. There had been no coffee breaks in the Eagle Pencil factory where grandma worked. The workday was nine hours. They just worked straight through until it was time for lunch. If you had to go to the bathroom before lunch, that was a problem. Above the bathroom door were three lights, one for each toilet stall. If the lights were all on, you were not supposed to go in. Each time a woman went into the ladies room, she was supposed to turn on a light.
The first time Mary’s grandma used the factory bathroom, all three lights were out. To her surprise, the bathroom was full of women. They had slipped in without turning on a light. The women were taking a badly needed break. “You didn’t turn on a light?” the women demanded. “I’ll never do that again,” grandma answered.
In the late 1930’s, the union organized the Eagle Pencil factory. The first thing they did was get rid of the lights outside the bathroom door. And the workers won two 15-minute breaks a day with pay.
By 7 a.m. Mary had punched in and turned her lathe on in the machine shop. She had always liked mechanical work and fought to become a tool and die maker. She was one of a growing number of women doing non traditional work, work that used to be for males only. Mary liked the work and liked the higher pay she earned in her trade. On her very first day on the job, she joined the Machinists’ Union. In just two years, Mary became the union steward for her mostly-male department. The plant made tools and parts for an automobile factory.
Denise
As union steward, Mary often fought for workers’ grievances. Some cases were emergencies. This morning she did not have long to wait for the first grievance. At 8:00 a.m. Denise Taylor, one of the newer drill press operators, came into the machine shop in tears. “They want me in human services and I’m afraid they want to fire me,” she said, her voice shaking. “I don’t want to go without my union steward.” Mary shut off her lathe and made a record of the time in her log book. Then she told John Schultz, her foreman, that she was going to human services on union business.
Up in human services everyone was wearing suits, even the women. Their hands were clean and the offices were well heated, in contrast to the machine shop. Mary felt she had stepped into a different world. Still people seemed to be working very hard, eyes glued to computer monitors. As Mary and Denise passed the workstations, no one even looked up. Denise’s foreman was waiting for them in the conference room.
“This is the third time she’s been late in two months. I warned her,” the foreman said.
“I was only five minutes late,” Denise replied. “I couldn’t help it. I had my kids at the day care center by 6:30 but the teachers didn’t come until 10 to 7.”
Denise was a single mother with two children, one two years old, the other three and a half. Every weekday morning, she carried her children to the bus stop, still asleep in her arms. That was a heavy load but she hated to wake them up. The children woke up anyway, soon as they got on the bus. They didn’t want to miss anything. At the day care center, Denise and her children waited for the first teacher to arrive. The center opened officially at 7:00 a.m. but teachers usually came a half-hour earlier. That barely gave Denise time to catch the bus to the plant and punch in by 7. Each morning was a tight race against the clock. If she lost her job, who would pay the rent? Who would buy food and clothing for the kids?
“I don’t see any warning in Denise’s file,” Mary pointed out. “You can’t fire her without an official warning,” she added.
“I warned her,” the foreman insisted. “I told her that if she was late again she would be fired.” Turning to Denise he shouted, “I told you, didn’t I.”
Before Denise could answer, Mary quickly put in, “Did you write it up and notify human services?”
“Not exactly,” the foreman admitted.
“Are you writing this up as a warning?” the personnel director suggested.
“Yeah.” The foreman settled for the official warning but he had the last word: “One more time and she’s out!”
As they walked back to the machine shop, Mary asked Denise if she had any relatives who could help her get the children to the preschool. “Next time,” Mary told Denise, “I may not be able to save your job.”
“My mother’s dead. I have no relatives here,” Denise said, sadly. “Whatever it takes, I won’t be late any more.”
Although she made the promise boldly, Denise had no idea how she could avoid another emergency. She would do it if humanly possible. The job paid enough to rent a decent apartment and to feed and clothe her children. It was scary. Denise knew that 14 million children went to bed hungry in the USA. She was afraid that she and her children would become homeless if she lost her job. She would also lose medical coverage for herself and the children.
It was 9 a.m. by the time Mary got back to her lathe. It was time for a 15-minute break. On the way to the coffee line, Mary was still thinking about Denise and her children. She wished the plant had its own child care center. But Elco Parts was in business to make money, not to care for its workers. Mary decided to treat herself to another cup of coffee and sweet roll. She felt she deserved it. What she did not know is that she would not have time to eat lunch that day.
Feeling just a little guilty about eating the whole sweet roll, Mary promised herself that tomorrow she would eat only half a sweet roll and save half for lunch. It was good to get back to work. Mary enjoyed her job. It was a challenge – reading the blueprints, making the measurements, carefully controlling the cutting tools. There was a lot of satisfaction in using her hands and brain to create a tool that would be used again and again.
She did not change expression when Schultz, her foreman, came into her work area with two time-study men. One held a stopwatch and the other was carrying a clipboard. The time-study men had been buzzing around lately making the workers nervous. Schultz introduced the men with the usual line. “They’re going to study your job to make the work more efficient and easier for you.” The workers knew what that meant - downsizing. Workers would lose jobs.
Mary raised her eyebrows in disapproval but said nothing. “Don’t worry,” Schultz said. “You’ll still have a job. We may not need so many drill press and punch press operators. But skilled trades people like you will still have a job.”
Mary worried about Denise and the other drill press operators. She did not believe that her own job was safe, either. Even if she was not laid off, she would have to work harder. Just to make the rich richer? They were already too rich, Mary thought. She had read in her union paper that the richest 1% owned 40% of the wealth in the USA. The bottom 80% (that’s us, Mary thought) owned only 16%.
With an effort, Mary concentrated on her job and tried to ignore the time-study men. When she was first subjected to time study, it made her so nervous that she began to work faster. That made her angry with herself. No worker in her right mind wants to use a faster-than-normal pace for time study. To compensate, she had slowed down. Her slow-down was so obvious that the time-study men decided to leave. “We’ll come back the next day,” they had warned her. So this time, Mary decided it was best to get it over with and work normally or a bit slower.
After an hour or so, the time-study men left. Mary relaxed and put her mind on her work. It was close to lunchtime, but Mary wasn’t hungry. That was no surprise with two cups of coffee and two sweet rolls in her stomach. Instead of thinking of food, Mary began to plan some union business she would try to do in the half-hour of lunch. She was on the union’s safety committee and they would have to call a special meeting. OSHA had cited the company for poor ventilation in the soaking pits and the paint department. The company paid the small fine and promised to upgrade the ventilation system. Six months had passed and nothing was happening. Mary thought that racism had something to do with the company dragging its feet. Everyone in those two departments was African American or Latino. Maybe it was time for a slowdown in those departments. It seemed as though the company would not do anything until they felt it in their pocketbook.
Mary looked up from her work when Al, another machinist, came over with a blueprint. He wanted to get Mary’s ideas about a tricky part he was making. Just as he spread out the blueprint, they heard a loud blast. Almost instantly, they smelled smoke. People began running away from the paint shop. Mary and Al ran for the exit, taking the route they had practiced in fire drills. Mary had been a high school track star and was well ahead of Al. Suddenly an image of her friends trapped in the paint shop flashed through her mind. So fast that no one could stop her, she turned on her heels and raced back toward the paint shop. A great surge of strength shot through her body and made her feet fly.
Steve
Before Mary could reach the paint shop, flames started shooting through the walls. A blast of heat scorched her face. Leona, the only woman on the paint crew was screaming, running with her clothes on fire. Mary threw Leona down and rolled her on the ground until the flames were out. Mary was afraid of a second explosion. She had to get Leona out fast. But Leona was heavy and there was no way that Mary could carry her. Mary spotted a painter’s tarp, rolled Leona on it and dragged her out the door. Outside, the workers broke out in cheers when they saw that Leona was still alive.
By this time, the fire trucks had come. The firefighters ordered everyone away from the building and did not let Mary stay. “The ambulance is just three blocks away; they will take your friend to the hospital,” they told Mary. She could hear the ambulance sirens and agreed to step back. Down the street, the waiting workers shivered in the cold. There had been no time to get their coats. Mary looked around anxiously for Steve, the painter on the safety committee. Steve was not there.
After what seemed hours, the paramedic teams came out of the building, carrying three stretchers. That would be the rest of the paint crew, Mary thought. Nobody knew if they were dead or alive. Al offered to drive and follow the ambulances to the trauma center but Mary decided to wait at the plant. By this time, the union representative had arrived and was talking to the fire commander. She told the workers that the fire was under control and would soon be extinguished. But it would be hours before they would be allowed to go in to get their personal possessions.
“Get out of the cold and come over to the union hall,” the rep said. “Your things will be safe – the police are closing off the plant.”
“Huh,” Mary said. She did not like leaving without her things. She had left her coat and purse in the plant. Thankfully, her keys were in her pocket. There were only a few dollars and change in the purse but it had all her ID’s. The coat, she expected, would stink of chemical smoke. Workers with cars gave rides to their co-workers and left for the union hall. The rep called taxis for the other workers. “That’s what the union treasury is for,” she told them.
The union hall was filling fast. All union staffers had been called in for the emergency. The staffers made two big pots of steaming coffee. The Good Eats Cafe delivered trays of good-looking sandwiches. Mary remembered that she had not had lunch. Still she was too worried about Steve and Leona to eat. TV camera crews and reporters interviewed groups of workers. Then they got the bad news. Steve died on the way to the hospital. Bill and Wayne, two other painters, were burned over most of their body but had a chance to pull through. Thanks to Mary, Leona was going to make it but her face and back were badly burned. She would need a series of skin grafts in the coming months.
At the union hall, President Paul Paxton called the meeting to order. He said the Fire Department had done a great job. They put out the fire before it spread past the paint shop. The company was calling maintenance personnel back to work immediately. Everyone else was laid off until the fire damage was repaired. Hopefully, that would be just a few days. The audience responded with an anguished groan. Time off without pay! Mary raised her hand to demand, “Are we going to let the company get away with this?” Paxton answered, “I just told the reporters that the union will pursue the company to the limit of the law. We are demanding compensation for Bill, Wayne, Leona and Steve’s survivors. The company is claiming the fire was not the company’s fault. We know better. We warned them about the fumes in the paint shop. And we are not going to stop with winning money. The company heads should go to jail for criminal negligence!”
“And who will pay our wages while we’re out?” Denise asked. Mary turned in surprise. Denise was usually so quiet.
“If you have vacation time coming, we will ask the company to let you take it now. Otherwise, we can only hope that the company will let you work overtime when you go back. Tomorrow, everyone should apply for unemployment compensation. Just in case.”
The meeting ended to give workers a chance to go back to the plant for their belongings. Mary got her coat and bag. They had a burned chemical smell but at least she had her ID’s. With Al, she returned to the union hall to help any way that she could. Steve’s death was so hard to take because it could have been prevented. What the company did was the same as murder, union members were saying.
There was a lot of work to do at the hall. Mary wrote a press release. Al helped Steve’s family make funeral arrangements. They chose a very large church. Thousands who did not know Steve wanted to come to the funeral. They wanted to protest the policy of profits before safety. By the time Mary looked up it was 8 o’clock and now her stomach was really growling. With a start, Mary remembered that she had invited her boyfriend, David, for dinner at 6 p.m. They had met at a community rally at the high school where David taught science.
David
With a ride from Al, Mary was home by 8:30 to find David still waiting for her. He looked worried. “I heard about the explosion on the news,” David said. “I called the union to try to reach you. But I did not get through.”
“Oh David,” Mary said, “I’m so sorry. I should have called.” “You know I love you,” she added. Mary had told David that before but this was different. Everything she had been through that day made her senses sharper and her feelings deeper. David was such a good man, good-hearted, smart and fun to be with. It didn’t matter to her that David was white.
“I love you, too,” David whispered, as he covered her face with kisses. “When I heard about the fire, I realized I can’t live without you. Let’s get married.”
That was not the way either one of them had planned to put the big question. Still it was a good story that their children never tired of hearing. It was also a preview of things to come. All too often Mary got home late when a union emergency came up or a meeting dragged on.
