Republic, Flint, and Studs Terkel

The workers at Republic Windows and Doors have won their demands. When they were told that their plant would permanently close on December 5, 2008 the workers chose to remain in the facility and “protect the assets” until they received back pay and benefits. Thanks to the six-day occupation of their north side Chicago factory, and with massive union, community and political support, the 260 members of UE Local 1110 won eight weeks worth of back wages, vacation and severance pay, and extended health insurance. Their courageous fight was not a fluke; it was a lesson for the future, grounded in past labor struggles from Flint, Michigan to Hartford, Connecticut.

Driving toward the factory on the second day of the sit-down action, I was reminded of Studs Terkel’s first book, Division Street. The Republic plant is just off the intersection of Division and North Hickory. Studs captured the voices of ordinary Chicago working people: cabbies, cops, community organizers. He did what few had done at the time by focusing on the daily struggle workers face and the hard choices we make in order to survive.

Take, for instance, Luis. When I entered the Republic plant (the workers had opened up the lobby for supporters) he was guarding the entrance to the factory floor. Luis had been working at Republic for 16 years. Some of his co-workers had been there twice as long. One woman and her husband had both been employed at the plant until they got the abrupt layoff notice. They were devastated by the loss of both paychecks and especially by the lack of health insurance for their kids. But you could still hear the determination to win in their voices. “We have nothing to lose,” they kept saying.

Factory occupations began with the Wobblies. In 1905, Lucy Parsons told the founding convention of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) that “the strike of the future is not to strike and go out and starve, but to strike and to take possession of the necessary property of production.” One year after Lucy’s speech, IWW workers at General Electric in New York organized their first “folded arms” strike in an occupation that lasted three days.

The most famous sit-down strike began in Flint, Michigan in December, 1936 and lasted for 44 days. The autoworkers won their demands, inspiring hundreds of similar actions around the country. One month after the Flint victory, Connecticut workers at Whitney Chain & Manufacturing in Hartford set down their tools to demand a meeting with the boss. Six days later, they had won a 10% wage increase and overtime pay. Over the next month, 550 Plainville workers who produced ball bearings and 400 Baltic textile workers successfully used the sit-down tactic to improve their living conditions.

In 1941, Naugatuck rubber workers halted production and sat down to maintain their union shop status. Even nurses at Norwalk Hospital sat in at their lunch room to demand that the employer stop stalling their contract negotiations. He complied and within three hours the talks resumed. Soon nurses, aides and orderlies all won pay increases.

Labor’s enemies mounted a broad offensive against this valuable weapon for worker justice. Big business called it un-American. Congress debated a sit-down ban. Connecticut Governor Wilbur Cross called out the state police to arrest 100 sit-down strikers at Electric Boat. Even American Federation of Labor chief William Green denounced the practice, declaring that sit-downs “must be disavowed by the thinking men and women of labor.” Court injunctions and a Supreme Court case soon all but eliminated the factory occupation as a legal method of protest and resistance.

The workers at Republic have picked up the Flint banner, calling their victory “a win for all working men and women who face uncertainty, unfairness and job loss in a troubled economy.” Any of the Republic workers I talked to could have been one of the interview subjects of Division Street. I imagine that Studs, who left this earth on October 31st, spent this past week holding a celestial microphone to record their stories too.