34
We have been hired off the streets like a bunch of sheep, standing
there from 6 o'clock in the morning, in all kinds of weather; at the
moment of 8 o'clock, we were herded along the street by the police
to allow the commuters to go across the street from the Ferry Build-
ing, more or less like a slave market in some of the Old World coun-
tries of Europe.
That, as Harry Bridges knew it, was the shape-up that took place
daily, rain or shine, on the sidewalk across the street from the Ferry
Building on San Francisco's waterfront. For hundreds oflongshore-
men, newcomers and old-timers, star gangs and casuals, the shape-
up was the historic core of waterfront work-an intermittent, tenu-
ous link with their industry and their worklife identity. It had be-
come a basic element in the system of labor relations maintained
and intensified since the employers had driven independent unions
from the docks and took total control of the jobs. The format of
the systems in the major ports of the Pacific Coast differed nomi-
nally, but they shared the inequity, the insecurity, and the indignity
that led to the explosive summer of 1934.
We have been hired off the streets like a bunch of sheep, standing
there from 6 o'clock in the morning, in all kinds of weather; at the
moment of 8 o'clock, we were herded along the street by the police
to allow the commuters to go across the street from the Ferry Build-
ing, more or less like a slave market in some of the Old World coun-
tries of Europe.
That, as Harry Bridges knew it, was the shape-up that took place
daily, rain or shine, on the sidewalk across the street from the Ferry
Building on San Francisco's waterfront. For hundreds oflongshore-
men, newcomers and old-timers, star gangs and casuals, the shape-
up was the historic core of waterfront work-an intermittent, tenu-
ous link with their industry and their worklife identity. It had be-
come a basic element in the system of labor relations maintained
and intensified since the employers had driven independent unions
from the docks and took total control of the jobs. The format of
the systems in the major ports of the Pacific Coast differed nomi-
nally, but they shared the inequity, the insecurity, and the indignity
that led to the explosive summer of 1934.
45
Blue Book dominance from 1919 to 1933 provided an effective tool for stifling the men's complaints, wiping out any traces of independent collective bargaining, and maintaining the employers' un- challenged control of the job. In other ports-principally Seattle and San Pedro-employers used their decasualization schemes to the same ends. No small part of the bitterness that erupted in the summer of 1934 flowed from the employers' almost total denial of the longshoremen's claim to be heard.
The Waterfront Employers Union signed three five-year agreements with the Blue Book union and met once a year with Bryan to fix wage rates for the following year. The employers gave him a "complete closed shop," Plant said. "If Bryan didn't have the men, he'd go out and rustle them up .... And his contract was inviolate; he had an incipient strike [in 1923] among the barley handlers [at Port Costa] and he hired strikebreakers and broke it himself.... [He] fired the men who went out on the wildcat strike and they never worked on the front again." Looking back later, Plant summed up: "I think we can refer to the fourteen years that followed as fourteen years of peace. "
Blue Book dominance from 1919 to 1933 provided an effective tool for stifling the men's complaints, wiping out any traces of independent collective bargaining, and maintaining the employers' un- challenged control of the job. In other ports-principally Seattle and San Pedro-employers used their decasualization schemes to the same ends. No small part of the bitterness that erupted in the summer of 1934 flowed from the employers' almost total denial of the longshoremen's claim to be heard.
The Waterfront Employers Union signed three five-year agreements with the Blue Book union and met once a year with Bryan to fix wage rates for the following year. The employers gave him a "complete closed shop," Plant said. "If Bryan didn't have the men, he'd go out and rustle them up .... And his contract was inviolate; he had an incipient strike [in 1923] among the barley handlers [at Port Costa] and he hired strikebreakers and broke it himself.... [He] fired the men who went out on the wildcat strike and they never worked on the front again." Looking back later, Plant summed up: "I think we can refer to the fourteen years that followed as fourteen years of peace. "
57
The "real union" some of the editors had in mind was not a revival of the "Red Book" union, that is, the ILA, but the Marine Workers Industrial Union (MWIU), a small, active, but ineffective branch of the Red International affiliate, the Trade Union Unity League (TUUL). It pursued the TUUL policy of separate indus- trial unions, overlapping, duplicating, and competing with the mainstream AFL organizations, in this case calling for one union of longshoremen and seamen-of all marine workers. Later issues of the Waterfront Worker acknowledged MWIU help in publishing the paper. For about the first six months the paper touted-sometimes loudly, sometimes subtly-the MWIU as the union for longshoremen, but the longshoremen never responded. Sam Darcy, regional head of the Communist Party, later explained its failures. It had "not a single worker on the docks." As outsiders, the party fell victim to agitation "against our Union and our Party." "Militant phra- seology," though mouthed by "reactionaries . . . succeeded in turning the minds of the men."
In midsummer, 1933, the ILA was reborn on the San Francisco waterfront when ILA President Joseph P. Ryan appointed Lee]. Holman organizer. Henry Schmidt recalled, "We sort of streamed into the office and put down the so-called initiation fee, which was fifty cents, got a book, and it was the right time and the right place. It also had something to do with that thing that was called the National Recovery Act, NRA, Section 7a." 17
The "real union" some of the editors had in mind was not a revival of the "Red Book" union, that is, the ILA, but the Marine Workers Industrial Union (MWIU), a small, active, but ineffective branch of the Red International affiliate, the Trade Union Unity League (TUUL). It pursued the TUUL policy of separate indus- trial unions, overlapping, duplicating, and competing with the mainstream AFL organizations, in this case calling for one union of longshoremen and seamen-of all marine workers. Later issues of the Waterfront Worker acknowledged MWIU help in publishing the paper. For about the first six months the paper touted-sometimes loudly, sometimes subtly-the MWIU as the union for longshoremen, but the longshoremen never responded. Sam Darcy, regional head of the Communist Party, later explained its failures. It had "not a single worker on the docks." As outsiders, the party fell victim to agitation "against our Union and our Party." "Militant phra- seology," though mouthed by "reactionaries . . . succeeded in turning the minds of the men."
In midsummer, 1933, the ILA was reborn on the San Francisco waterfront when ILA President Joseph P. Ryan appointed Lee]. Holman organizer. Henry Schmidt recalled, "We sort of streamed into the office and put down the so-called initiation fee, which was fifty cents, got a book, and it was the right time and the right place. It also had something to do with that thing that was called the National Recovery Act, NRA, Section 7a." 17
57
"1933 will be the beginning of a new year,'' the lead article in its first issue said, "and of a new agreement on the 'Frisco' waterfront. It has been decreed that wages will be 75 cents an hour -- a 10c wage cut. Coming at the time of the festive season, this wagecut is a regular Christmas present to the shipowners." The next issue reported that the same wage cut had been imposed in the northwest ports and in San Pedro. "Sheer necessity,'' Plant said later.
Longshoremen "had to" make their yuletide gift because, the paper said,
the Blue Book union had betrayed them. But what can be done about it? ... Some of us have got together, whats to prevent others from doing the same. If you ask this question of your partner the answer will be "Open your mouth and you will get blacklisted." We know this. Its nothing new. Whats to prevent us from organizing small undercover groups of those whom we know on each dock. This is the only way we can lay the basis of a real union and protect ourselves as individuals.
In its February issue the Waterfront Worker said it intended to fight: 'l. For a deep cut in the new working rules. 2. For more men in a gang. 3. For a real fight against further wage-cuts." And it urged again that longshoremen organize small groups to take the lead in dock action against grievances. Its goals were limited and defensive, only a distant approximation, as it turned out, of workers' expectations, far short of the trade union program it would later support.
"1933 will be the beginning of a new year,'' the lead article in its first issue said, "and of a new agreement on the 'Frisco' waterfront. It has been decreed that wages will be 75 cents an hour -- a 10c wage cut. Coming at the time of the festive season, this wagecut is a regular Christmas present to the shipowners." The next issue reported that the same wage cut had been imposed in the northwest ports and in San Pedro. "Sheer necessity,'' Plant said later.
Longshoremen "had to" make their yuletide gift because, the paper said,
the Blue Book union had betrayed them. But what can be done about it? ... Some of us have got together, whats to prevent others from doing the same. If you ask this question of your partner the answer will be "Open your mouth and you will get blacklisted." We know this. Its nothing new. Whats to prevent us from organizing small undercover groups of those whom we know on each dock. This is the only way we can lay the basis of a real union and protect ourselves as individuals.
In its February issue the Waterfront Worker said it intended to fight: 'l. For a deep cut in the new working rules. 2. For more men in a gang. 3. For a real fight against further wage-cuts." And it urged again that longshoremen organize small groups to take the lead in dock action against grievances. Its goals were limited and defensive, only a distant approximation, as it turned out, of workers' expectations, far short of the trade union program it would later support.
59
In December 1932, Senator Hugo L. Black of Alabama had introduced a bill embodying the American Federation of Labor's thirty-hour-week formula for halting the depression. It proposed to close foreign and interstate commerce to products from establishments in which any person was allowed to work more than thirty hours a week. On April 5, 1933, with growing public support, the Senate passed the bill, 53 to 30.
But Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a month in office and pushing vigorously for economic recovery legislation, was uncomfortable with the bill. He shared industry's conviction that it was both unconstitutional and unworkable. In its stead, in early May, he sent Congress the National Industrial Recovery bill. It called for the establishment of the National Recovery Administration (NRA) under which business itself, freed from anti-trust restraints, would regulate "unfair competition and disastrous overproduction" through codes of fair competition. At the same time, the codes would shorten the work week and establish minimum wages. To balance the generous grant of economic power to industry, each code would be required to include a guarantee of the right of work.
Union fever swept across the land in a contagious epidemic. [...]
In the end Section 7(a) proved to be a false dawn. It was often
and widely resisted by employers; it failed at moments when it was
most urgently needed; it often turned out to be weak and helpless.
It was finally knocked down in May, 1935 by the United States
Supreme Court. But for the moment, it gave new hope and courage
to millions. Its recognition of the right to organize and bargain
collectively gave them an effective tool and freed them from apathy,
hopelessness, and inaction. It gave rise to a new militance, directed
not at revolutionary upheaval but at down-to-earth matters of
wages and hours, of status and dignity.
In December 1932, Senator Hugo L. Black of Alabama had introduced a bill embodying the American Federation of Labor's thirty-hour-week formula for halting the depression. It proposed to close foreign and interstate commerce to products from establishments in which any person was allowed to work more than thirty hours a week. On April 5, 1933, with growing public support, the Senate passed the bill, 53 to 30.
But Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a month in office and pushing vigorously for economic recovery legislation, was uncomfortable with the bill. He shared industry's conviction that it was both unconstitutional and unworkable. In its stead, in early May, he sent Congress the National Industrial Recovery bill. It called for the establishment of the National Recovery Administration (NRA) under which business itself, freed from anti-trust restraints, would regulate "unfair competition and disastrous overproduction" through codes of fair competition. At the same time, the codes would shorten the work week and establish minimum wages. To balance the generous grant of economic power to industry, each code would be required to include a guarantee of the right of work.
Union fever swept across the land in a contagious epidemic. [...]
In the end Section 7(a) proved to be a false dawn. It was often
and widely resisted by employers; it failed at moments when it was
most urgently needed; it often turned out to be weak and helpless.
It was finally knocked down in May, 1935 by the United States
Supreme Court. But for the moment, it gave new hope and courage
to millions. Its recognition of the right to organize and bargain
collectively gave them an effective tool and freed them from apathy,
hopelessness, and inaction. It gave rise to a new militance, directed
not at revolutionary upheaval but at down-to-earth matters of
wages and hours, of status and dignity.
64
Charges of "radical and communist" domination, a major theme in the employers' propaganda attack, often focused on the Albion Hall group. It was also the setting in part for Sam Darcy's claim that the 1934 longshore and general strikes were "our"-the Communist Party's-strikes, with "Communists and other militant elements" exercising broad, and sometimes decisive, influence. 28 Looking back, Darcy tells of a continuing, informal relationship with Bridges in which they discussed matters of tactics and goals, often reaching "a common view." Bridges would then present their judgement to the union leadership. 29 Bridges recalls working day and night during the period of intensive organizing: "The agenda came out of all of us, with big input from party people such as Darcy." 30 Party members for a time sat in meetings with the rankand-filers until the caucuses were restricted to working longshore- men. Though outside contacts and discussions continued, Bridges always maintained that the driving force, then and later, was the rank and file.
The revived Red Book union was clearly focused on the jobnot revolution. The tactics and strategy of its strike were drawn not from political theory, but from solid trade union precedent and waterfront tradition. They were radical only in their sharp departure from prevailing job practices. Militant, rank-and-file tactics and pragmatic goals, vigorously pressed by the caucus, fueled the longshoremen's drive. They left behind the timid, defensive program initially advocated by the Waterfront Worker. They forced the party to change its dual-union policies, abandon the MWIU as the union for longshoremen, and cast its lot with the ILA local. They looked, not merely to resistance, but to aggressive and affirmative steps to correct the evils they had endured. They repeatedly demonstrated, to anyone willing to see, that the cries of Communist domination, so loudly trumpeted by the employers, the press, and government officials, dealt with matters that were no part of the union's job program and aspirations.
Charges of "radical and communist" domination, a major theme in the employers' propaganda attack, often focused on the Albion Hall group. It was also the setting in part for Sam Darcy's claim that the 1934 longshore and general strikes were "our"-the Communist Party's-strikes, with "Communists and other militant elements" exercising broad, and sometimes decisive, influence. 28 Looking back, Darcy tells of a continuing, informal relationship with Bridges in which they discussed matters of tactics and goals, often reaching "a common view." Bridges would then present their judgement to the union leadership. 29 Bridges recalls working day and night during the period of intensive organizing: "The agenda came out of all of us, with big input from party people such as Darcy." 30 Party members for a time sat in meetings with the rankand-filers until the caucuses were restricted to working longshore- men. Though outside contacts and discussions continued, Bridges always maintained that the driving force, then and later, was the rank and file.
The revived Red Book union was clearly focused on the jobnot revolution. The tactics and strategy of its strike were drawn not from political theory, but from solid trade union precedent and waterfront tradition. They were radical only in their sharp departure from prevailing job practices. Militant, rank-and-file tactics and pragmatic goals, vigorously pressed by the caucus, fueled the longshoremen's drive. They left behind the timid, defensive program initially advocated by the Waterfront Worker. They forced the party to change its dual-union policies, abandon the MWIU as the union for longshoremen, and cast its lot with the ILA local. They looked, not merely to resistance, but to aggressive and affirmative steps to correct the evils they had endured. They repeatedly demonstrated, to anyone willing to see, that the cries of Communist domination, so loudly trumpeted by the employers, the press, and government officials, dealt with matters that were no part of the union's job program and aspirations.
76
The employers "would not hire one armed guard," Plant said. "We were going to depend on the city to provide all the protection necessary." Mayor Angelo Rossi had no doubts, either, he said. "He called the police chief and as a matter of fact they wanted us to proceed just that way because they didn't want us to have armed guards. It was fully shown that the job was theirs of providing [the strikebreaking operations] with the necessary protection." 12 The police department told shipowner and Industrial Association representatives that it would assign an adequate force to "take care of the entire situation without any additional expense to the Waterfront Employers' Union." These would include mounted police on the Embarcadero, a sufficient number of radio cars, and the police boat. The police asked the WEU to keep them informed on ship movements and indicated their willingness to patrol piers where loading was going on and escort men being transported along the waterfront. The WEU would be responsible for policing the housing ships but, otherwise, the shipowners would place the entire situation in the hands of the police. 13 (In mid-June, Plant sharply repri- manded Eugene Mills of the Marine Service Bureau in San Pedro after the WEU membership "expressed themselves very forcibly on the subject of expense at San Pedro .... The item of guards, cost and boarding, amounting to about $100,000 is one we think should be borne by the city. Here, the police in ample numbers are supplied without cost." 14
The employers "would not hire one armed guard," Plant said. "We were going to depend on the city to provide all the protection necessary." Mayor Angelo Rossi had no doubts, either, he said. "He called the police chief and as a matter of fact they wanted us to proceed just that way because they didn't want us to have armed guards. It was fully shown that the job was theirs of providing [the strikebreaking operations] with the necessary protection." 12 The police department told shipowner and Industrial Association representatives that it would assign an adequate force to "take care of the entire situation without any additional expense to the Waterfront Employers' Union." These would include mounted police on the Embarcadero, a sufficient number of radio cars, and the police boat. The police asked the WEU to keep them informed on ship movements and indicated their willingness to patrol piers where loading was going on and escort men being transported along the waterfront. The WEU would be responsible for policing the housing ships but, otherwise, the shipowners would place the entire situation in the hands of the police. 13 (In mid-June, Plant sharply repri- manded Eugene Mills of the Marine Service Bureau in San Pedro after the WEU membership "expressed themselves very forcibly on the subject of expense at San Pedro .... The item of guards, cost and boarding, amounting to about $100,000 is one we think should be borne by the city. Here, the police in ample numbers are supplied without cost." 14
80
The convention's final action ordered a strike vote unless the employers complied with the union demands by March 7-the next day. If the union demands were not met by March 22nd, a strike would be called in all Pacific Coast ports at 8:00 A.M., March 23. In its final hours, too, the convention instructed the newly elected executive board to have all Pacific Coast locals convene port-byport conferences of all marine unions and marine workers, orga- nized and unorganized, to organize united support behind the union's demands.
Longshoremen voted in mid-March to strike, 6,616 to 699. The ballot put the question ambiguously: "Members in favor of calling a strike for recognition of the International Longshoremen's Association, effective 8 A.M. March 23, will vote yes. Members against a strike at that time will vote no. If the employers have agreed to collective bargaining before March 23rd, this ballot is void." Frequently in the weeks ahead the employers argued that the ballot sought only recognition, made no mention of wages or hours, that the walkout was being continued for purposes that went beyond "recognition" and was, therefore, unauthorized.
The convention's final action ordered a strike vote unless the employers complied with the union demands by March 7-the next day. If the union demands were not met by March 22nd, a strike would be called in all Pacific Coast ports at 8:00 A.M., March 23. In its final hours, too, the convention instructed the newly elected executive board to have all Pacific Coast locals convene port-byport conferences of all marine unions and marine workers, orga- nized and unorganized, to organize united support behind the union's demands.
Longshoremen voted in mid-March to strike, 6,616 to 699. The ballot put the question ambiguously: "Members in favor of calling a strike for recognition of the International Longshoremen's Association, effective 8 A.M. March 23, will vote yes. Members against a strike at that time will vote no. If the employers have agreed to collective bargaining before March 23rd, this ballot is void." Frequently in the weeks ahead the employers argued that the ballot sought only recognition, made no mention of wages or hours, that the walkout was being continued for purposes that went beyond "recognition" and was, therefore, unauthorized.
88
In Portland, two crews of gang bosses stood by for emergencies. Otherwise, longshoremen -- estimated at from 1,100 to 1,500 -- stayed off the docks. A newspaper told the men that, unless they reported for work by 8:00 A.M. the following morning, they would be fired. The employers counted heavily on unemployed workers to move the port's cargo. Teamsters were refusing to cross the longshoremen's picket lines; sailors, bargemen refused to work cargo and members of the United Licensed Officers balked at furnishing steam, tending hatches for strikebreakers, or assisting in moving scabs. By the end of the first day, thirty-one ships were tied up at Portland docks. The Portland City Council wired President Roosevelt, asking him to intervene personally in the dispute which, it said, would affect all classes of the population unless settled immediately.
In Portland, two crews of gang bosses stood by for emergencies. Otherwise, longshoremen -- estimated at from 1,100 to 1,500 -- stayed off the docks. A newspaper told the men that, unless they reported for work by 8:00 A.M. the following morning, they would be fired. The employers counted heavily on unemployed workers to move the port's cargo. Teamsters were refusing to cross the longshoremen's picket lines; sailors, bargemen refused to work cargo and members of the United Licensed Officers balked at furnishing steam, tending hatches for strikebreakers, or assisting in moving scabs. By the end of the first day, thirty-one ships were tied up at Portland docks. The Portland City Council wired President Roosevelt, asking him to intervene personally in the dispute which, it said, would affect all classes of the population unless settled immediately.
90
The strikebreakers, Plant said after the strike, "were nearly all Americans, nearly all citizens of San Francisco, nearly all family men, and in the large majority of cases men who had been on relief, willing to work and satisfied with the conditions under which they were employed." 6 On the other hand, Theodore Durein recorded his experiences as a strikebreaker-most of the time as a pot-washer in a housing ship's bakery-in Reader's Digest. He described strikebreakers as "mostly pasty-faced clerks, house-to-house salesmen, college students and a motley array of unemployed who had never shouldered anything heavier than a BVD strap before in their lives." 7 Among them were platoons of husky football players from the University of California, recruited by their coach, William "Navy Bill" Ingram. One of them, though, was rescued from scabbing by his irate father who managed to get aboard the housing ship. The son apologized when he reappeared in his father's tow: "I didn't know I was doing anything wrong. The coach said that working on the dock was a good opportunity to keep in shape for football." His father contributed $100 to the strike fund before he left. 8 Durein said some of the "hard nut" strikebreakers imported from San Pedro had been guaranteed their return fare. He also met an analytical chemist, a bacteriologist, two members of the California bar, and five school teachers. "They were the softies," he added. Said one premedical student: "I'd rather have salt on my torn body, but God, I have to be a doctor." His earnings of $150 paid for his return to college. 9
lol
The strikebreakers, Plant said after the strike, "were nearly all Americans, nearly all citizens of San Francisco, nearly all family men, and in the large majority of cases men who had been on relief, willing to work and satisfied with the conditions under which they were employed." 6 On the other hand, Theodore Durein recorded his experiences as a strikebreaker-most of the time as a pot-washer in a housing ship's bakery-in Reader's Digest. He described strikebreakers as "mostly pasty-faced clerks, house-to-house salesmen, college students and a motley array of unemployed who had never shouldered anything heavier than a BVD strap before in their lives." 7 Among them were platoons of husky football players from the University of California, recruited by their coach, William "Navy Bill" Ingram. One of them, though, was rescued from scabbing by his irate father who managed to get aboard the housing ship. The son apologized when he reappeared in his father's tow: "I didn't know I was doing anything wrong. The coach said that working on the dock was a good opportunity to keep in shape for football." His father contributed $100 to the strike fund before he left. 8 Durein said some of the "hard nut" strikebreakers imported from San Pedro had been guaranteed their return fare. He also met an analytical chemist, a bacteriologist, two members of the California bar, and five school teachers. "They were the softies," he added. Said one premedical student: "I'd rather have salt on my torn body, but God, I have to be a doctor." His earnings of $150 paid for his return to college. 9
lol