Strike
“BREAKING: Judge approves Hostess bonus payout plan; 19 Hostess senior executives in line for up to $1.8M in bonuses” CNBC
On a chilly November day, Kate and I got out of our car, and with a bit of trepidation, at least on my part, approached a living line in the sand. The men and women walking this line had reached the end of the road, on November 9, 2012, with no other choices available, encased in air cold enough to see their breath, and fires burning in steel drums, their only source of heat, they each picked up a placard and began to march – they were on strike.
For me, this was no ordinary group of strangers, though I had never before met any of them, I well knew their plight. For years, my sister and brother-in-law, who had been walking the night shift picket, had shared with me his grievances, many unimaginable. Did anyone else in America work for a company where line workers were asked to willingly donate ten dollars, per pay check, for research and development?
Pensions had been cut, monies disappeared, insurance premium’s had skyrocketed, wages slashed, and now they were being told to once again take a cut in pay and accept the further demise of what was once their benefits. These men and women, many who had faithfully worked for their employer for more than twenty years, could no longer accept being forced to work without a contract, especially when those running the company were repeatedly giving themselves outrageous bonuses.
The company, Hostess Brands, which was once again functioning under Chapter 11 bankruptcy, while increasing salaries of its top executives by up to eighty percent, had gone to court and received permission, on October 3, 2012, to force the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers Union, to accept changes in their contract, which they had not approved and meant a less than living wage! By November 16, blaming the days long strike, Hostess had decided it would liquidate its assets, including many well-known and iconic products, rather than negotiate with the striking workers. At stake, 18,500 jobs, including employees at 33 factories, around the nation, and 500 outlet bakeries, representing thousands upon thousands of people who suddenly find themselves unemployed, with health insurance cut the day the employees went out on strike.
On November 29, 2012, a judge in New York, approved another 1.8 million dollars in bonuses for the executives responsible for leading Hostess into bankruptcy and now closure; on that same day, during a rather random conversation, with a woman whose husband had worked at Hostess, I learned that just like my sister and brother-in-law, who learned their health insurance was cancelled while trying to fill a prescription, this woman, who I shall call Mary, told me she found out she was uninsured, in an equally surprising way, sitting in an emergency room, where she had gone after being rear-ended, in an accident, on the way to stand with her striking husband. Mary, continued to tell me, though she had worked since she was fourteen years old, and was still employed full time, she was now uninsured, and facing a staggering monthly bill of 8,400 dollars, to cover her medications to treat multiple sclerosis – I think Mary could use a bit of that bonus. My heart broke for this woman, just as it had for every person I spoke to on the picket line.
Hostess had stopped paying into the union pension plans when it declared bankruptcy, now they will not honor the benefits for retired employees either, which could be covered by the salary of just one of their top executives, say their CEO who earns $125, 000 a month, this is not just.
As we walked the line, we saw nurses carrying signs in solidarity, local business people who had brought doughnuts and coffee to the strikers to help keep them warm, and spoke with Don Berry, President of the local chapter of the AFL-CIO who said this was the oddest strike he had ever seen. He said for the first time in his life, he had been asked to bring firewood to the picket line, and glad his wife had asked him to cut wood a few weeks back. He said these workers were hurting and desperate; when I asked about the Teamsters lack of support, he quickly told me they were not crossing the picket line, just waiting across the street for the scabs to bring the trucks. It was not a satisfactory answer, but I did not push him. Unfortunately, times are worse than any of us want to admit, and everyone feels like their back is against the wall.
In the past, America was defined by our work ethic, which included the belief that everyone should have the right to work and to make a living wage. As a capitalist nation, we do not expect that the high school junior, who works at a fast food franchise, should make the same amount of money as their high school math teacher; we do believe that the student should know that if they so choose, they can one day earn what the teacher does and they can surpass the teacher’s salary, if they are willing to work hard. America is supposed to be the land of opportunity.
We used to be a nation that believed that “blue” collar workers had the same right to buy a house, own a car, and send their children to college, that the “white” collar worker had. But things have changed in America, and not for the better. We have become a nation in the service industry, which no longer believes in manufacturing and small business owners.
I recently strolled down Main Street, in an average little town, and found seven hair salons, within a four block radius. I am happy that we are all so beautifully coifed, but not everyone can or should become a hairdresser.
It is not okay that everything in America is now made in China. I believe in business and I believe that those who take the risk are entitled to their profits; I also believe that when we promise someone that in return for their hard work, loyalty, and monetary contribution, we will set aside monies for their retirement, provide them with life insurance, and help pay for the their health care, we should honor our word.
As I walked up and down the picket line, stopping to photograph and speak with the strikers, I felt overwhelmed by their pain; and as I continue to encounter people, in this area, who are facing a very bleak holiday season, and not because of the presents they will not be able to buy, but because they are worried about how they will heat their house and feed their families, I keep wondering what has happened to our nation?
As a very young person, who had been raised in a rather restricted environment where I believed everyone’s life centered around the church, I remember a trip to Ohio, from California, where I met many of my Mother’s family members and friends whom she had known since her youth; it was the first time I interacted with “blue” collar individuals, with knowledge that there was a difference between labor and management. All of these working class folks owned a house, a nice car, at least to me, and seemed to be able to not only take care of their families, but have room for a guest. No one had incredibly exciting jobs, but apparently one could make a fine living as a manufacturer.
Contrary to the world portrayed by television, not everyone in going to become a reality star, athlete, celebrity, lawyer, doctor, or police person; there must be room for people in America to build furniture and cars, to make clothes and dishes, and to bake bread and snack cakes! I do not want my snack cakes coming from China.
There has been a lot of talk about the iconic Twinkies since the Hostess news broke; and no we did not go out and stock up on the Hostess treats – I felt it disloyal. But I feel I would be remiss to not share my Twinkie story with you.
When I was in first grade, after having spent three years in Puerto Rico, we moved to New York City, the Bronx, to be specific. We lived in a three story walk-up, and on very hot days someone would manage to loosen the fire hydrant, so that the neighborhood could cool off in the refreshing gushing waters. On occasion, when an extra nickel could be found, my Mother would let Joy, my older sister, and me walk up to the corner store, to buy a treat. Joy would buy something with chocolate; but me, I would always buy Twinkies. I loved Twinkies, and to this day, still enjoy a Twinkie or two, on occasion. For me, Twinkies represented America. I do not quite know why, except that I met them here and always associated them with a special moment. I do hate to think that the Twinkies are gone, at least for a bit; but even more; I hate to think of all of the thousands of people who will be impacted by the mismanagement of such an American product.
This is not a story about mean union people who refused to be reasonable; this is a story about how yet another American company will be sold off for it parts, on the backs of its work force, while its executives will walk away with their golden parachutes, rewarded for having done the wrong thing.
Americans need to remember that we are supposed to be a nation who offers a hand up not a hand out. I have met one too many people who gave Hostess the best years of their life, only to learn that their pensions have disappeared and they are now uninsured. Corporate America use to be something all Americans had a right to step back, regardless of your political or union persuasions, and admire. Both large and small companies, in America, had been responsible for innovation and advancement in science and technology, they had sponsored research and funded the arts and humanities, and they employed the kid in the mail room, the line worker, and the college graduate, giving each a chance to live out their dreams.
America is at war with itself. There are all kinds of blurry titles, none of which make sense from red verses blue to rich verses poor – we need to be fighting for America and not against Americans.
For many of you, who will read these pages, the thought of having ten dollars removed from your pay checks would be inconsequential. Ten dollars is the cost of a fancy cup of coffee and a bagel, something not worth a second thought. However, I fear there may be a lot more people who realize that $240.00 dollars a year would cover about a half of tank of oil, a car payment, a school loan or electric bill, or put food on the table for a couple of months, yes, a couple of months.
Tonight, as we bask in the afterglow of Thanksgiving, and prepare for Hanukkah and Christmas, I stand with the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers Union, and I stand with America. A fiscal time bomb is looming, and no matter what kind of deal is reached, at the last minute, it is time for everyone to realize that America was birthed through the marriage of labor and the entrepreneurial spirit, we need to come to the table, respecting each other’s contributions and find a way to get America back to work – That is all for now.
