People : Author : Rose Pesotta Tags

FOOTNOTES

1. Italics here are mine-R.P.
• Chapter 3 : Mexican Girls Stand Their Ground

CHAPTER 3
Mexican Girls Stand Their Ground
EARLY IN OCTOBER the dress manufacturers were firing workersright and left, on flimsy pretexts, and especially ousting individualsknown to be active in the union. Several shops locked out theiremployes. By Monday, the 9th, hundreds were on the streets with nojobs. A strike was clearly being forced upon us.
Carrying out the mandate of the dressmakers' mass meeting, theunion leadership agreed upon Thursday, the 12th, as the date for thewalkout, and the organization committee was called to meet afterwork Wednesday. Meanwhile the union issued leaflets asking all LosAngeles dressmakers to "get ready for the general strike," saying wewanted to make it short and effective through 100 per cent unity. Wecautioned them against the danger of being stampeded by the tacticsof the opposition union, which had been sniping at us with handbillscalculated to confuse the issue.
It must be borne in mind that next to its following in New YorkCity, the Communist Party had its largest unit in Los Angeles,perhaps an indication that its members, after years of exhaustingservice in the East, needed the balmy air of California. Even there thelong hand of the party directed all their movements.
The period of World War I and the 1917 Russian revolution gavebirth to the Communist International as an instrument of world revolt.This organization, generally referred to as the Comintern, officially"dissolved" in 1943, had been organized along military lines. Its policywas to set up Communist "cells" in every part of the world to serve aslinks between the government of Russia and the wage earners andfarmers of every land. The general membership of the party was nevertaken into confidence by the Communist "high priests" in Moscow,but the chosen top leadership in each country was given each new line as an order to be carried out. Thiswas invariably dictated by the needs of the Moscow government, anda new line often brought a complete turnabout: what had been taboosix months before became the new line, regardless of whether it wasfeasible to carry out such a policy locally.
Members who dared question or disobey a new line would besummarily expelled or brought before a court of their own forjudgment. Usually they would be subjected to humiliation, and insome instances, they would even disappear without trace. One suchcase often pointed out was that of Juliet Stuart Poyntz, at one timeconnected with the ILGWU educational department, but afterwards formany years an active member of the Russian Secret Service. Shewalked out of her room in New York City early in June, 1937,ostensibly to return in a short time, and vanished completely.
Some who were expelled from the party formed Communist"splinter" groups, which made a great deal of noise withoutdeveloping much strength.
The Comintern established a so-called Red Trade UnionInternational, designed to set up "revolutionary" trade unions theworld over. For this purpose, the Trade Union Educational League,headed by William Z. Foster, came into being in the United States. Intime a Needle Trades Workers' Industrial Union evolved, with the aimof "ruling or ruining" every labor organization in that field.
Some party members were instructed to remain with the existingunions, while the rest were assigned to function in the dual union. Inthe period between 1925 and 1933, the Needle Trades Workers'Industrial Union succeeded in demoralizing our International, amongothers, and tearing down every important gain we had made in threedecades. Stock tactics of the dual union were to sow distrust in theirchosen leadership among the rank and file. Derogatory epithets hurledat decent officials in widely distributed newspapers in variouslanguages were picked up by labor's enemies and used as weaponsagainst unions generally.
Discouraged members dropped out of both organizations, crying:"A plague on both your houses!" The employers reaped vast benefitfrom all this internal dissension.
There was a small but raucous branch of the dual outfit in Los Angeles, taking in all needle trades groups, and its leadershipfrequently denounced us and our campaign.
Plans for the strike, with no mention of the day set, were submittedby our delegates to the Central Labor Council, which votedendorsement and pledged full support. J. W. Buzzell, the councilsecretary, Mae Stoneman of the waitresses' union, and several A F ofL organizers spoke at strikers' meetings and gave us other valuablecooperation.
Various tricks were used by the employers in attempts to hamstringthe strike movement. One man came seeking "information" for amagazine which we later found to be non-existent. We gave himcopies of our literature.
One of the factory owners asked me to have breakfast with him. Hehad taken part in a recent conference, and claimed to be a liberal. Iknew enough never to talk alone with any one from the other side in alabor conflict, so I asked Paul Berg to go with me. We met the man inthe Pig'n Whistle, a colorful and popular eating place on Broadway.
"I want to make a friendly suggestion to you," he said over thecoffee.
We listened. "You ought not have a general strike," he advised us."It would be very bad. It would create great bitterness and workhardship on many people. It would be much better to call strikes inindividual shops, one by one, and settle with each, then the otherswould meet with you and sign a collective agreement."
"That's a fine idea," I answered.
He beamed upon me.
"An excellent idea," I assured him. "We'll do it. On Monday we'llcall our first strike÷in your shop."
His face clouded with alarm.
"Why in mine?"
"Because you are sympathetic to our cause. You would sign anagreement promptly, your workers would go back to their jobs, andthat would set an example for other employers."
He objected strongly to my revision of his plan.
"Maybe it isn't such a good idea," I told him. "Our union will haveto use its own methods."
The organization committee comprised about 200 persons, cutters,operators, pressers, finishers, and other workers. When the committeemet on Wednesday, Vise-President Feinberg and I, chairman andsecretary, respectively, explained that all preparations for the walkouthad been completed, except for eleventh-hour details. Aheadquarters was ready; a commissary had been set up to feed thestrikers, and a legal committee appointed to bail out any who might bearrested, and have them defended in court. Chairmen of the standingcommittees knew exactly what they were expected to do.
All members of the organization committee were instructed tocome to the union offices at 5 a.m. next day÷"to distribute leafletsand for other duties."
The truculent voice of a frequent dissenter was raised. "When dowe strike?"
"You will be told that when you come in the morning."
We knew that though he was a member of our union, he alsobelonged to the Communist organization. Several such dissenterswere in our ranks. Easily identified, their technique was the same inevery industrial city I visited. Systematically and vociferously theydisagreed with the majority on all questions. No one observing theirmethods could doubt that their purpose was to disrupt our ranks. Weplaced them on innocuous committees where they could do the leastpossible harm.
On Thursday at 5 a.m. every one was on hand. Ten thousand copiesof the strike declaration had been printed. English on one side,Spanish on the other. Each committee member took a bundle of theseto distribute in front of the buildings in which dress factories werelocated.
DRESSMAKERS' GENERAL STRIKE DECLARED TODAY!read the large black-type heading on the leaflet. Addressed to "all ourunion members and nonmembers, all cutters, operators, pressers,finishers, examiners, drapers, sample-makers, cleaners, pinkers, andall jobless dressmakers," it called upon them not to enter the shops, but to "go in an orderly manner" to strike headquarters at 1108 SouthLos Angeles Street.
"The bosses have forced this strike upon us," the declaration said,"because they refuse to recognize our organization and have refusedto concede our just demands....
"Present working conditions in Los Angeles are unbearable. Neverhas it been so hard for a dressmaker here to earn a living as it is today.The general depression on the one hand, and the sweatshops on theother, have made it possible to break down all standards and make ourjobs more insecure than ever before.
"We must make the 35-hour week universal in order that everydressmaker shall have employment We must establish the guaranteedminimum wage scale for every worker in the industry to assure us aliving wage. We must establish the right to the job....
"We must have a powerful union to enforce union standards inevery dress shop every day of the year....
"Down with the sweatshops I On with the strike! On to victory I "
When all the others had dispersed, shortly after 7 o'clock, Iproceeded to strike headquarters alone, forgetting about breakfast. Iunlocked the door, turned on the lights, and looked around.Everything was in good order.
I stepped outside to wait. Los Angeles Street was deserted andsilent. Minutes dragged by, painfully. Once I held my watch to my earto make sure it hadn't stopped.
The watch hands at last reached 7:30 . . . 7:31. The silence remainedunbroken. It pressed down on me. I felt as if I were standing in avacuum. I could hear my own heart beat.
7:35 . . . Still no one in sight. Doubts assailed me. Supposesomething had slipped? Suppose the workers didn't respond?Suppose only a few came out. I knew of other strike efforts where theground had been well prepared that had failed dismally. What effecthad sniping by the Communist-led dual union had upon morale?Had the bosses succeeded in intimidating their employes?
I looked up at the loft building I had rented. It looked so huge, somonstrous÷and I had been concerned lest it not be big enough for our needs! Again a chill went up my spine, and I felt very small÷much smaller than my five feet two.
The minutes dragged on. I stood still, facing the Broadway corner, ablock away. I no longer looked at my watch. I could only wait,numbly.
Suddenly the silence was broken. Several girls turned the corner,then more girls and women, then a throng, laughing and talkingexcitedly. Some from the Clare Dress Company, all smiles, werewaving at me. Soon they were pouring into strike headquarters by thehundreds. The Clare Company's employes had been the first tostrike; they were all here.
Workers from each factory assembled for separate shop meetingsin the smaller rooms. Hall attendants registered each on an individualshop list which gave the name, address, factory location, price ofgarments worked on, wages received. Each group elected a shopchairman. A striker's card, to be presented daily at headquarters to bepunched, would serve as identification, entitling the holder to meals inthe commissary and a weekly cash benefit.
As soon as this necessary clerical job was done, the strikers weresent back into the garment district to swell the picketing.
Reporters came, looked over the crowd at headquarters, askedquestions, picked up copies of our leaflets, visited the picket lines, andtelephoned stories to their offices.
Simultaneously the dual union also issued a strike call, but thedressmakers flocked into our headquarters.
Some time that afternoon I was called outside, where I found awoman talking to a group of Mexican girls.
"This union is a fake," she told them. "This bunch will mislead you.Come to our place where the masses are."
A Mexican youngster looked at me, puzzled.
"You ought to take her suggestion," I said laughingly. "Go over a dtake a good look. Maybe she is right."
"There are enough people here," the inexperienced girls answered."If they stay here we will, too."
Mass picketing went on throughout the day in front of all the dressfactory buildings, in the heart of the downtown shopping district. Traffic frequently stopped for minutes at a time while crowds ofshoppers watched the spectacle.
In the evening, when the demonstrations were ended and thestrikers had left headquarters, I met with the staff. We compared notesand mapped out a schedule for next day. Scanning the list; offactories and registered strikers, I was satisfied that we had succeededin shutting down the Los Angeles dress industry.
Every one on the staff was tired but happy. The spirit of the strikerswas excellent. The Mexican girls and women, who were by far themajority, acted almost like seasoned unionists, bearing out myexpectations fully.
I met also with the commissary committee No meals had beenserved that day, for all the workers had brought their own lunches asusual. We would begin serving breakfast and lunch at headquartersnext morning.
On Friday some of the dress factories "opened under police guard."This simply meant that the police were present again, as on Thursday.The word opened didn't mean much, for we knew that not enoughdressmakers appeared for work anywhere to keep production going.
Arthur Booth, executive secretary of the manufacturers'association, issued a statement averring that the demand forrecognition of the union was the only point of difference between theemployers and the ILGWU. This was just one of our demands, thestrike committee replied; 40 per cent of the girls and women in theLos Angeles dress shops were being paid less than $5 a week,although the manufacturers had signed the President'sReemployment Agreement providing for a minimum of $15 a week.The minimum under the state law was $16! The committee offered toproduce hundreds of checks for $3 and $4 to prove our charge ofwidespread wage chiseling.
"We want union recognition," we said, "so that we can enforce theNRA rules in our industry and see that evaders of the code are madeto abide by it "
On this second day and throughout the whole strike, each picketline was a lively parade. The girls came dressed in their best dresses,made by themselves, and reflecting the latest styles. Many of themwere beauties, and marched on the sidewalks like models in a modiste's salon. Stories and pictures appeared in the daily press, andthe general public got a better understanding of our difficulties. At amass meeting Friday afternoon in Trinity Auditorium, 1,500 strikerscheered the announcement that the Cloakmakers' Associationhad signed an agreement with the union, conceding the union shopand all other demands. A few obstinate employers had refused tosign, but 1,600 cloakmakers had been victorious, and would not haveto strike.
The commissary, now in full swing, was in the hands of acompetent committee headed by four strikers, Sophia Malis, NellieSaltzman, Mary Millazzo, and Morris Kaplan. Most of its membershad had practical experience in feeding large groups in workers' clubsto which they belonged. Breakfast consisted of an orange, coffee,rolls, butter, and jam. Lunch included sandwiches of meat, peanutbutter, or cheese, salad, fruit, coffee, or milk. Occasionally we servedtamales for the Mexican strikers.
Each day at least 200 loaves of bread were necessary to make morethan 2,000 sandwiches. We bought coffee, sugar, cream, and milk, butother provisions came to us either as unsolicited gifts or through thepersuasive efforts of a "chiseling committee" which canvasedbutchers, grocers, and vegetable and fruit markets, and pleaded ourcause.
Members of the Unemployed Councils used their own trucks tobring surplus fruits and vegetables which they obtained by working inthe orchards and truck farms in a "Save the Crops" co-operativemovement. A special committee of Latins from the union,interviewing merchants in the Mexican quarter, found them generous.
When the newspapers reported that we were feeding such a largenumber, many poorly clad men and women, who had never beeninside a garment factory, came to our headquarters and sought toregister as strikers. A question or two quickly revealed their lack ofknowledge of our industry. We regretted having to turn away hungrypeople, but we had strikers to feed and a desperate cause to fight for.
As enrollment proceeded, we got added light on the prodigiousnumber of marginal or surplus workers in the dress field. Hundredslisted themselves as unemployed operators and finishers. They had worked little in the trade, and were more properly classifiable ashousewives, grandmothers, juveniles. Many could operate an ordinaryhome Singer machine, but that was all. Among the "finishers" wefound women long past 70 who occasionally went to work with theirgrandchildren. The juveniles, under the legal employment age of 16,got past the uncritical eyes of the foreman or forelady with the aid ofhigh heels, heavy make-up, and spit curls, when rush orders had tobe filled.
We also were visited by an emissary from the Catholic WelfareAssociation, who asked especially how we were handling the foodsituation. With a good deal of pride, we showed him through ourwell-equipped, spacious kitchen and dining hall, and led him into afreight elevator that had been made stationary to serve as a storeroomfor edibles. The visitor said his organization would like to donatesome provisions÷without publicity. And presently it sent us 100pounds of sugar, 100 pounds of peanut butter, and 50 pounds ofcoffee.
Each morning at 10, I held a meeting with the hall attendants,shop chairmen, assistant chairmen, and members of shop committees.Then they would meet with strikers from their respective shops,keeping them informed of the latest developments.
By the time the strike had been running two days we learned thatmany of the strikers were facing a serious plight. They needed morethan meals at headquarters and carfare. They needed relief÷food orcash, or both. By the third day a considerable number reported thattheir gas, electricity, or water, or all three, had been shut off fornonpayment of bills. The number of families was large enough, andthe timing by the utility companies was such, that mere coincidencewould not explain the situation. Pressure evidently had been exertedbehind the scenes.
We found that a sizable percentage of the strikers, particularlymarried women with unemployed husbands, had been receiving aidfrom the county welfare bureau while working in the dress factories,because their wages did not cover the cost of feeding their largefamilies.
To help those in immediate need, the commissary committee beganputting up bags of food for home use. These contained milk, coffee,bread, sugar, rice, peanut butter, tomatoes, lettuce, apples, cheese, andoranges.
For a few days the Spanish-language cultural society's radiostation served us well. It carried concise bulletins about our campaignto a wide audience. Then the theater owner who operated the stationtold us sadly that he had been ordered to stop giving us time.
We pondered what to do, whether to make a fight about it. Some ofthe Mexican girls solved our problem. At their suggestion, we boughttime from another station, El Eco De Mexico, in Tiajuana, justacross the border, which would not be subject to interference. Thatgave us what we needed. The Tiajuana broadcasts were made daily at7 a.m. Spanish-speaking workers all over Los Angeles learned of theprogress of our strike before starting for their jobs each morning.
Overnight the dress manufacturers used a new device in an effort tobreak the morale of the strikers. They wrote to those who had walkedout that unless they returned to work Monday morning, October 16,all the dress shops in Los Angeles would be closed for two months
We met the issue squarely in a new leaflet, declaring that this threatwas an admission that the strike was a success.
"The fact is," we pointed out, "the employers could not keep theirshops closed for two months, for rent and overhead would keep pilingup and they would lose their trade. We've heard that argument beforefrom others÷but they always recognize the union in preference togoing out of business."
• Chapter 4 : The Employers Try an injunction

CHAPTER 4
The Employers Try an Injunction
HIRED THUGS APPEARED in front of the strike-bound garmentfactory buildings as another week began. Ostensibly their job was toprotect "non-striking" workers; actually, they were on hand tofoment disturbances. Clashes were provoked by these "guards" asthey led in people who had never worked in the dress industry before,to replace the striking workers. Girl strikers were arrested and chargedwith disturbing the peace.
Representatives of both sides conferred on Monday with CampbellMacCulloch, executive secretary of the National RecoveryAdministration's state board. He proposed a three-monthcompromise plan to end the strike. We could see only danger in thatproposal. Early and specific action was vital to us; more waiting wouldmean a tired and disgusted rank-and-file, and finalacceptance, through sheer weariness, of unfavorable terms. Thewearing-down process is a well-known tactic on theindustrial battlefield. We rejected the plan quickly. To our surprise, theemployers didn't favor it either. Next day MacCulloch was reported tohave "tossed the strike situation into the lap of Washington officials."
On Tuesday evening, after every one else had gone, Paul Berg,secretary, Harry Scott, manager of the cloakmakers' locals, and Ilingered at strike headquarters to clear routine details and ascertainwhere we needed reinforcements. Our desks were behind a railing.
About 9 o'clock a short man with a cast in his eye came in andasked: "Is Rose Pesotta here?"
"No," one of the boys answered promptly.
"When will she be in?"
"I don't know."
He inquired also for Israel Feinberg, Harry Scott, and Paul BergThey didn't know when any of those gentlemen would come in.
"They don't tell us everything. Come back in the morning."
"No," he said. "I'll wait around for a while."
He sat down. After some 45 minutes of cooling his heels, he placedfour folded papers on the railing.
"If any of these people come in tonight," he admonished us, "besure to tell them about this. It's important. There's a jail sentencewaiting if they don't obey this order."
When we were certain the process server had left, we read theinjunction. Issued on behalf of the Paramount Dress Company,among other things it prohibited the four of us and all other membersof the ILGWU from "intimidating or harassing" any of the employesof that corporation. The Paramount shop was one of several factoriesin the building at 719 South Los Angeles Street, in front of which theclashes had been promoted by the "guards" on Monday.
Obviously this action was an attempt to demoralize us and end thepicketing. The manufacturers were using the Paramount firm as acat's-paw.
I knew that picketing must go on at No. 719, injunction or noinjunction. Our lines must be kept intact. We would have to work fast.Without taking time to consult our lawyers or Vise-PresidentFeinberg, my superior, I decided that we would stage a demonstrationat the Paramount building next morning that the employers would notforget.
We sped to the homes of key members, instructing them to line upevery possible picket in front of "719" at 6:30 next morning.
By the time the Paramount Dress Company opened its doors onWednesday, over a thousand of our people were massed on thesidewalk. Scores of cloakmakers augmented the striking dressmakers'ranks, but the great majority of the marching pickets were girls andwomen.
Captain William (Red) Hynes, his assistant, Detective LieutenantGeorge Pfeiffer, other members of the "Red Squad," and a largedetachment of uniformed policemen, were powerless against thatmass of unionists. The police had decreed that our pickets must walktwo abreast, but they couldn't enforce this rule. They had forbiddenthe pickets to call "Scab! " But when private cars owned or hired bythe employers appeared, bringing in strike-breakers, no onecould prevent the pickets from yelling that epithet in lusty chorus.Pent-up emotions were loosed. The hired thugs were on the job.There were fights in the center of the milling crowd, and shouts andscreams.
Though the injunction applied to all members of the ILGWU, thepolice arrested only five strikers÷all women÷and then charged themnot with violating the court order, but with disorderly conduct.
The employers saw the point of the demonstration: We had thestrength of militant members. They realized that any further use of theinjunction would win increasing public sympathy for the strikers. Itwas the only injunction during that strike.
Shortly after the walkout, a pleasant visitor had come to ourheadquarters÷a slim, fair-haired young man, dressed so simplythat he might have been one of our own members. He introducedhimself as Jerry Voorhis. I had heard of him and knew somethingabout his liberal activities. Son of a well-known Californiafamily, he conducted a self-help school forunder-privileged boys on his estate at San Dimas, in the foothillsof the Sierras.
Taking me aside, he said he had long been especially interested inlabor problems. From his pocket he took two paid-up lifeinsurance policies with a cash value of more than $5,000, and offeredthem as a contribution to our strike.
I explained we did not need money; what we needed most wasmoral support from the people of Los Angeles.
"What, then," he wanted to know, "can I do to be most helpful?"
"It would help a lot," I said, "if you would arrange a public massmeeting, and invite both the employers and our union to state theircases."
He got busy at once, and such a meeting, well-advertised andlargely attended, was held October 20 in the First Unitarian Church.The speakers included two of the strikers, who had poignant stories totell of what they had been up against in the factories; the Rev. A. A.Heist, Methodist minister who had helped settle the great Coloradocoal strike in 1927; the Rev. Allan Hunter, pastor of the MountHollywood Congregational Church; Chester Williams, chairman ofthe Southern California Youth Congress; and David Ziskind,prominent Los Angeles lawyer. Jerry Voorhis presided.
Charles Katz, attorney for the manufacturers, presented their side ofthe story, Bill Busick and I, that of the union. There could be noquestion in the minds of unbiased persons present that we had thebetter of the argument.
Afterwards, Mr. Katz was frank enough to say to me: "If I were onyour side, I'd speak as convincingly as you." Later he became one ofour attorneys.
Several similar meetings followed, gaining wide support for ourcause.
Voorhis continued to give us practical and whole-heartedco-operation. Ever since, he has proudly carried a paid-upunion card in one of our Los Angeles locals. I learned later that, notsatisfied with a Yale degree, he had worked as a cowboy, a freighthandler, and as an automobile mechanic. In 1936 he was elected toCongress, where he is one of an outspoken minority with a liberalpoint of view.
Systematically our pickets were reinforced each day by largenumbers of others in the early morning, noontime, and late afternoon.Skeleton crews of watchers were assigned for duty throughout thenight. Pickets served in relays, staying on the lines two hours or so ata time, and then coming to headquarters to attend shop meetings, forcoffee and food, and recreation. Each afternoon there was a largemeeting in the assembly hall, with talks by the organizers and byspeakers from outside. Norman Thomas, standard-bearer of theSocialist Party, then touring California, was one of the visitors.
In that second week Senator Robert F. Wagner, chairman of theNational Labor Board in Washington, wired MacCulloch urgingarbitration. The manufacturers' association assented, on condition thatwe stop picketing. We answered that the strikers were ready to submitthe issues to "an impartial committee of citizens," but opposed anycessation of picketing so long as the employers kept their shops open."We will stop picketing when you close your factories," was our reply.
Booth, the employers' spokesman, asserted that "in all strikespicketing was halted during arbitration proceedings." It was an oldruse. Labor history is full of examples of broken faith by employersand of union defeat when strikers have been persuaded to stop picketing at this stage of an industrial conflict. The momentum we hadgained, the solid morale of the strikers, must be protected.
Dr. Roy L. Smith, pastor of the First Methodist Church, inspectedthe strike area, visiting picket lines and headquarters. He reported hisobservations to a committee of representative clergymen. They passeda resolution calling upon members of their congregations to observethe picket lines at certain hours when clashes were most likely tooccur.
Singing on the picket lines attracted and held crowds of shoppers.The time-tried union songs were best÷Hold the Fort, the SoupSong, and the rest. But the favorite of the strikers was SolidarityForever, set to the ringing tones of the Battle Hymn of the Republic.Their voices swelled and lifted, filling the brick canyon of the garmentcenter.
When the Union's inspiration through the workers' blood shall run,

There can be no power greater anywhere beneath the sun,

Yet what force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one,

But the Union makes us strong.
Solidarity Forever!

Solidarity Forever!

Solidarity Forever!

For the Union makes us strong.

A hundred college students, girls and boys, joined the picket linesand staged a demonstration in our behalf, improvising songs and yells.They had been attending the Southern California Youth Congress atnearby Pacific Palisades. Nine were arrested for "disturbing the peaceand blocking the sidewalk." Like charges were placed against the Rev.Wesley G. Nicholson, pastor of Westwood Hills CongregationalChurch, who was present as an observer. The Congress issued astatement saying it had investigated every phase of the strike, andcondemning the manufacturers for paying dressmakers "as little as $2or $3 a week."
One girl student from the University of Southern Californiaperformed a notable service for us, of which I knew nothing until later.I remember only her first name, Gretchen. She walked into variousdepartment stores and swank downtown retail shops and asked tobe shown expensive dresses. After examining them closely, she asked:"Where is the union label? Why do you sell sweatshop merchandise?"The saleswoman had no answers to those questions.
Gretchen would than raise her voice in indignant objection. Themanager would hurry to the scene. Gretchen would continue herprotest, still in high key, while customers listened. As she walked out,she would tell the manager that unless his firm changed its policy andsold union-made goods she would never buy anything thereagain.
Soon we received inquiries from stores asking where they could getgarments with the union label.
By the 26th, both sides had agreed to "arbitrate withoutreservation," and four days later a board of five was chosen to weighthe issues in the case. The five were: Mrs. Frances Noel,club-woman; Dr. J. L. Leonard, professor of economics at theUniversity of Southern California; Rabbi Isadore Isaacson of theCongregation Israel, Hollywood; the Rev. James F. Cunningham,assistant pastor of St. Paul the Apostle Catholic Church, andCampbell MacCulloch, state executive secretary of the NRA.
Some 250 strikers marched on the 30th from headquarters to theCalifornia State Building, to file complaints with the State LaborCommissioner against manufacturers who had long violated theCalifornia minimum wage law. They had checks and work-hourstubs showing they had received $2, $3, $4, or $5 a week, though thelegal bottom wage for women was $16 for 48 hours.
The state police refused to let the marchers go up to thecommissioner's office. So they crowded into the main floor lobby andset up a roar of protest. Bill Busick pushed his way through, and athis urging they poured into the Assembly Chamber and took seats.Then Bill phoned upstairs, and Deputy Commissioner Charles Lowyhastened down and heard the delegation's complaints.
Immediately 200 other strikers led by Paul Berg marched to the CityHall and protested to Mayor Frank L. Shaw against undue policeinterference. The mayor said he would appoint a committee toinvestigate.
Meanwhile there were rumors that the police planned to use teargas. We discussed that possibility at shop meetings and prepared our women for it. When "guards" provoked a clash between thestrikebreakers and pickets at 719 South Los Angeles Street, Isaw a policeman dashing toward the spot with a tear-gasbomb behind his back. I caught up with him and shouted, "I'dadvise you not to throw that."
He turned quickly and halted. "Why not?"
"Because it would serve no purpose. Our strikers know aswell as you do how to protect themselves."
"What will they do?"
"Nothing, just let the tears run down their faces."
As a matter of fact, we had advised our women to do whatthey did when peeling onions÷never rub their eyes, but allowthe tears to run down their cheeks.
No tear-gas was used.
Lieutenant Pfeiffer, "Red" Hynes's assistant, althoughconstantly in the strike area, was unable to cope with theactivities of the striking girls, who were too swift for him Atall, powerful man, he once stopped me at the corner of NinthStreet and Broadway. Towering over me, he shook a fingerwithin an inch of my nose, and said, "Rosie, don't think this isNew York."
"I know it isn't," I answered, "but before we're through thesegirls will be working in shops as well organized as in NewYork."
Up to the time of our strike the Hynes "Red Squad" had ruledsupreme in the Los Angeles labor field and in the Communistmovement. Hynes always had advance knowledge ofCommunist activities, garnered from undercover men. But hewas unable to get advance information on our movements. Forpractically always our strategy was planned by Feinberg andmyself and communicated to others in the union only on theeve of execution. Most of our activities were organized swiftlyand carried out before they could be interfered with.
On Hallowe'en, we arranged a children's party for themorning and another for the strikers in the evening. The hallwas festively decorated on Saturday morning. Dressed inappropriate costumes, the youngsters played games, sang anddanced. Several children spoke the "pieces" they knew best;others performed native Mexican dances. We served lunch withmilk, ice-cream, and cake. While our young guests were enjoying these refreshments, I sprung asudden question:
"Would you like to see where your mothers picket?"
"Sure! You bet!" they shouted.
Immediately after lunch, I had the mothers round up theiroffspring in Hallowe'en attire, and started a procession of some300, two by two, toward the garment center. One of our girlsphoned the newspapers, and by the time the marchers reachedthe heart of the district, reporters and photographers were onhand. The cameramen got good shots of the colorful parade,and the newsmen found the scene rich in human interest.Broadway shoppers stopped traffic to look on.
The tail end of the procession was passing the last of thegarment buildings and was about to turn a corner when I sawmen running toward me. At their head was Captain "Red"Hynes.
He spoke breathlessly, indignantly. "You always wouldembarrass me. Why wasn't I notified about this? Why am Ialways the last one to hear about things?"
I snapped back at him. "I didn't know we were supposed tonotify you about anything. We have plenty to do trying to settlethis strike."
Two days later Lieutenant Pfeiffer came to our office andmade a similar complaint in his own behalf. The "Red Squad"was becoming a laughing stock because of our tactics, helamented.
For a change I used a pleading tone. "Please lay off. Let usalone. We have a couple of thousand girls and women onstrike. If you'll let me take care of it, I'll see that they returnsafely to work."
"All right, Rosie, I know you can do it."
Pfeiffer hailed from New York, having been born and raisedunder Brooklyn Bridge. Sometimes he remembered he had asense of humor, buried deep. One morning, he was in charge ofthe squad in Hynes's absence. Strikebreakers had just got out ofseveral of the employers' automobiles and were being led intothe Cooper Building on Los Angeles Street. Some of the girlstrikers yelled: "Scab!" Pfeiffer evidently thought they weren'tdoing justice to their cause. He stood in front of them, raisedhis arms in the position of an orchestraconductor, andcommanded, "Now,girls, alltogether!"Therepeatedepithetwas a roarofderision.
Theemployersand thepoliceevolved aschemewherebypicketswerearrested intheafternoonso thattheycouldn'thavepolicecourthearingsuntil nextday. Theyhad to bebailed outto avoidstaying injailovernight.
Onegroup ofgirls,beforeleavingheadquarters for theafternoonpicketlines,instructedus not tobail themout if theywerejailed.They werearrested,14 ofthem,refusedbail, andwereplaced incells inLincolnHeightsjail. I sentin foodand fruit.
Nextmorningwe wentto takethem tocourt.
Thematron ofthe jail,red-eyed andhaggard,faced us.She had aheartfeltprotest tomake."For thelove ofGod,neverleave abunch likethat in thisplaceovernightagain."
"What'swrongwiththem?" Iasked.
"It'stheirsongs.They sangall night. Inever gota wink ofsleep."
Usuallystrikersconvictedon onecharge oranotherweresentencedto pay afine orserve 10to 15 daysin jail.Invariablytheypreferredto servetheirsentencesratherthan paythe fine.Several ofthe girls,allAmerican-born, told melater thatnot untiltheyfoundthemselves in a celldid theyrealizethat menandwomenwho hadnevercommitted anycrimewereoftenarrested inthis landof thefree,particularly in LosAngeles.Readingnewspapers in thepast, theyhadthought ofarrestedpersons asthieves,murderers,prostitutes,swindlers,organgsters.Now theirknowledge wasbroadened. Theyexpressedno regretthat theyhadchosen tobe jailedin aworthycause.
• Chapter 5 : Our Union on the March