Dear Ron:

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Sunday January 20, 2013 · 10:56 AM PST

2013/01/20 · 10:56

I made a friend on Facebook last night. A very unlikely friend. A gun rights advocate, with buzz cut, tattoos and a Confederate flag on his FB homepage.

I wrote this letter to him to thank him and try to express the significance this small act held for me.

[not his actual name pending his permission to use it]

Dear Ron,

Thanks for accepting the friend request. I think something momentous happened when you did that. I went to bed glowing with hope for this country for the first time in years.

You did that.

If you and I can become friends and start talking rationally to each other and find common ground and agree on what we are fighting for and against, anything is possible.

-joke-
You're making this too easy Ron. From your self-description you shared of your political stances, you're a Liberal just like me. I was hoping for a Real Conservative to argue with. Don't worry, I don't know any of your friends. Your secret is safe with me.
-/joke-

LOL

I've been trying to open dialog with the ‘other’ side for decades. Never get anywhere. Been looking for a guy like you forever.

The country is divided Ron. There's no question about that.

How did it get that way? What keeps it that way? What facilitates and exaggerates that Divide day in and day out?

Those are pretty simple questions and the answers are pretty obvious. We may disagree on some specifics, I'd say Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, RW hate radio, web sites like Free Republic, Brieitbart, etc., you might point to some media outlets on "our" side.

We're BOTH right.

Here's the important question to ask IMHO:

srfRantz

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Friday January 18, 2013 · 5:40 PM PST

2013/01/18 · 17:40

I have a friend who is brilliant, talented, highly creative.
We usually agree on most things even political issues.
He recently launched a Facebook page called Molon Labe.
Loosely translated as used by the NRA crowd and the Patriot Movement it means:
"Come and take them."
It comes from the Spartans' response to Xerxes' merciful offer to let them live if they laid down their weapons and surrendered.
They didn't.
They said: "Molon Labe!"
They all were then slaughtered by the Persians.
The last seems to be lost on my friend and his supporters.
~~They seem to think the Spartans were heroes for fighting for a lost cause and imagining they were fighting for a noble one.~~
updated to:
They seem to think they are like the Spartans.
They seem to think they too are fighting against all odds for a noble cause.

They seem to think they are fighting for Freedom and against Government Oppression and Totalitarianism.

When I told them they were enabling Fascism they thought I was crazy.

Here is what I wrote to him in response (straight off the top of my head):

“When Fascism comes to America it will be wrapped in the flag and waving a Bible.”
and shouting Molon Labe!

The current Fascists aka the Oligarchy of Militarists, Corporatists, Plutocrats, and Banksters want to overthrow our Legitimate Representative Democratic State in which the public still has an illusion of power and a voice, through voting, and thus still a tiny possibility of exerting some control and power and regulation over them and their profits.

They wish to instead install a totalitarian authoritarian Right Wing regime that would grossly favor their interests.

To accomplish this they need to first discredit our current system.

They do that by accusing it of exactly that which they intend to install.

And simultaneously corrupting it by every means possible...bribery, extortion, redistricting, voter suppression, fraud, etc.

They do it by creating an incessant drumbeat of propaganda and conspiracy theories that the current government is corrupt, is not serving the people, has been infiltrated by a mysterious and hard to identify “other” such as Communists, Socialists, Liberals, Progressives, ACORN, George Soros, New Black Panthers, Muslims, Terrorists, Unionists, welfare chiselers, the 47%, etc. etc.

The message is basically: “All of the previous are bound and determined to take away your rights and freedoms. This is going to happen any second now! Be Prepared! Fight Them! Protect YOUR Freedom and YOUR Guns!!!”

They create a massive media propaganda machine to deliver this message over and over no matter what actually happens or what the reality of events are.

Poll

180 votes Show Results

Your response?

180 votes Vote Now!

Your response?

Moulon Labe!

66 votes

you can have my gun when you take it from my cold dead hands

59 votes

I'm a job creator, I'll be over here when you need me to take charge

7 votes

Freedom! Guns! I'm a Patriot!

12 votes

NRA! USA! NRA! USA!

7 votes

Canada Here I come!!

6 votes

We don't want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud

0 votes

Did someone say mushrooms? cool dude.

2 votes

don't bogart that joint, my friend...

8 votes

um. what was the question?

2 votes

this is serious shit, man, how can you joke about this!

4 votes

you and whose army?

1 vote

stop hitting yourself.

4 votes

hah-hah!

1 vote

tonight on Dancing with the Stars...

1 vote

The 28 Inch Mill: Deer Huntin'

srfRantz

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Sunday January 13, 2013 · 5:51 AM PST

2013/01/13 · 05:51

I think this was my Dad's favorite story from the play. I remember him calling me up all proud and excited after he wrote it and reading it to me over the phone. I was blown away. This was the first I'd heard any of what he was writing for me.

He 'wrote' the whole thing over 2 days. He was a man on a mission. Dictated it straight off the top of his head to my mom who typed it out. It must've been gestating in his mind for 20 years, maybe more. He'd been retired for like 10, out of the mill for nearly 25 by the time he decided he was going to write this.

After I read the whole thing, I begged him for years to write more. He didn't, maybe he couldn't, I could tell he had decided he wouldn't. He could be a stubborn bastard. This was it.

This would be what I called Scene 9 in the first performance. He didn't write scenes originally, but had somehow intuitively known how to put the various tales in order so that there was dramatic structure and flow, and humorous breaks after tugging at the heart with something poignant and moving. The whole performance clocked in at over 90 minutes, that had been exhausting and extremely draining in the first performance, so in the Bethlehem performance I opted to leave it out. Hard as hell to do that, but it didn't really add to the arc of the story, and stands alone as a vignette all on its own. Its not a 'proper' short story in structure, but a crystal clear view into what it was like to be a macho working class guy in the mid 50s in eastern Pennsylvania.

Without comment on its appropriateness or suggesting any relationship or meaning in regards to the horror of recent events in Newtown, I share it here, just for that reason. Not to excuse or defend, nor to condemn that world and their perspective, just to tell the story of the men, the way they lived, and where and how guns played a part in that world. To just show these guys like my Dad and what they were like, because I love them, warts and all.

Diarists Note: This is part of a continuing series I will be posting on Kos over the coming weeks. My introduction to the story behind 'The 28 Inch Mill' by my father Robert D. Frantz can be found here:
http://www.dailykos.com/...

srfRantz

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Tuesday January 08, 2013 · 12:44 PM PST

2013/01/08 · 12:44

is a fictional character created by my father.

When I told him I was going to pursue a career as an actor, he sat down and wrote a play, a monologue, a memoir for me to perform. He wrote about the men he knew and worked with at the 28 inch rolling mill during the 50s and 60s at Bethlehem Steel. The 28 is long gone, shut down in the 70s and torn down not long after to make way for a new modern mill. But my father's love for the men he shared the sometimes brutal and always exhausting experience of helping to build America, one steel beam at a time, is timeless and shines through every word of his memoir.

It was a meant as a gift to me, but it is a gift to all steelworkers, all industrial workers, past, present and future: the precious preserved memory of the time when America really was the Greatest Nation on Earth and of the people who made that happen.

Here is the excerpt from "The 28 Inch Mill" about Lefty California.
I hope you enjoy it.

Lefty California

Janos, remember the day they locked the Communists out of the plant. Musta been around 1950, 51.

Alls I remember was comin’ up to the Anthracite St. gate and seein’ the line of guys waitin’ to get into the plant. The cop at the gate was checkin’ everyone’s brass check. I mean usually you just flashed it and you were in. On top of that they wouldn’t tell us why they were doin it.

Next mornin’ we found out. Paper had big headlines: “Local Communists Refused Entry to Bethlehem Steel.” Then there was this list of about six or seven guys and there it was. I mean I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Alvin Elias Bittenbender also known as Lefty California, joined Communist Party, San Diego 1934.”

Then it went on to say that the F.B.I. was going to charge them with plotting the violent overthrow of the United States Government. Well, my phone started ringin’ off the hook. I mean everybody knowed me and Lefty were real tight. Hell, I was there the day he got his name. It was right after the war and we got a bunch of new guys ’cause they laid the women off and business was real good.

Anyways, Frank asked him his name and he says, “They call me Lefty.”

srfRantz

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Monday January 07, 2013 · 1:38 PM PST

2013/01/07 · 13:38

Scene 11: Strikes

Well, even with all those dumb smart guys runnin’ things, I figured I had it better than the old man ever did. I remember during the Depression the old man was workin’ at #6 Machine Shop and lucky to get in one day a week. Things were really tough. He refused to go on welfare. They called it relief back then, and he wouldn’t let my mother go to work either. I can remember going to school with cardboard in my shoes ’cause we didn’t have the money to get ’em resoled. Once when I was in Junior High my mother cut down a couple pairs of the old man’s wool pants to fit me. They itched so bad that I had to wear pajamas underneath ’em. I was afraid that the other kids would make fun of me when they seen me changin’ in gym class, but nobody ever said nothin’. I guess they was wearin’ their fathers’ pants too.

srfRantz

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Monday January 07, 2013 · 1:34 PM PST

2013/01/07 · 13:34

I'm skipping ahead a bit. To post some scenes related to my other recent diary postings.
This is one of my favorites.

Scene 10: Smart Dumb Guys

You know we had a pretty good record considering how dangerous it was with all those hot bars flyin’ all over the place. When I first started workin’ down the steel my pal Vinnie told me “Never turn your back on a rolling mill.” Damn good advice.

’Course I seen a lot over the years. I remember once, a couple of electricians were workin’ on the transfer crane and when they were done, one of them threw the main switch and the damn thing blew up in his face. He was stumbling around and we grabbed him and sat him down in the roller shanty. One of the guys lit up a cigarette and put it between his lips. He took a deep drag and the first thing he said was “That’s the second time safety glasses saved my eyes.”

You see stuff like that and it makes you a believer.

Janos, do you remember any fatalities on the 28? I heard one guy got killed up at the furnace when some water got under some slag and it blew up. But that was before our time. They had one up at the pits and couple guys bought it in the beam yard and the Gray side.

Christ, it’s hard for me to talk about. Man goes off to work and his family never sees him again. You can’t walk around thinkin’ about it, but it’s always in the back of your mind.

srfRantz

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Monday January 07, 2013 · 12:59 PM PST

2013/01/07 · 12:59

We report. You decide.

Back in 2003 I was preparing to perform my Dad's memoir of life at Bethlehem Steel here in Bethlehem PA. (see my previous diaries for some excerpts) I came in contact with some former steelworkers who had formed an organization to record and preserve the stories of the workers, called The Steelworkers Archives. They agreed to be the non-profit umbrella organziation for the project so I could get a lower rate to rent a local theatre. I paid all the production costs myself. I wanted to repay them for their support and I wanted to support what they were trying to do. They had a web site, which was pretty basic, so I volunteered to build them a new one. On the site was this list of the workers who had died at The Steel.

As I scrolled down it, slowly and not without some shock, I observed what appeared to be a very graphic story of the past century of the status and quality of life of the American Worker. Watch as in pre-union days the number of killed workers skyrockets during WWI. Watch it shrink dramatically when the Depression hits and after the Union was recognized. Watch it shrink to minimal levels during the boom years of the 50s and 60s. Watch it end when the Steel shuts down.

Keep in mind that the list only includes the men and women who died in the plant on the job. In one plant. In one town. For one company. It does not include the 1000s more who succumbed to disease and crippling accidents or other causes directly or indirectly related to employment at The Steel.

Back in the 1800’s Bethlehem Steel was started by the Germans and for the first twenty or thirty years they held all the jobs. Then they started to hire the Irish and gave them all the lousy jobs, like the coke works and shovelin’ scale, stuff like that. Another thirty years or so and the Irish move up and start hirin’ the Slovaks, Hungarians, and Polacks to do all the dirty work. Funny thing they called ’em all Hunkies, didn’t matter if they was Polacks, Slovaks, Ukrainians or whatever, they was still Hunkies, unless they was Italian—then they was Dagos or Wops.
Killed ’em off like flies, too. Didn’t give a damn, what’s another Hunkie? Then during the First World War they started hirin’ the Mexicans ’cause they thought they could stand the heat better. So they all got sent to the coke works. The Irish, they became the foremen. That’s why even today, no matter what shop you go into there’s some Irish foreman tellin’ everybody what to do.

When the Union come in they put a stop to all that. I mean they couldn’t keep you down just ’cause you was a Hunkie or a Dago. Lucky for me and you, Janos, we had the Union, I don’t think I could a stood it the way it was in the old days.

from The 28 Inch Mill by Robert D. Frantz (my father) Read More

Remember when strong unions and high taxes killed jobs?

srfRantz

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Monday January 07, 2013 · 7:50 AM PST

2013/01/07 · 07:50

no image description available — when corporations needed and wanted workers in America

when corporations needed and wanted workers in America

Me neither.

Apparently neither did good benefits, healthcare, life insurance for families and on the job training or other sensible business practices which attracted and kept good workers productive.

Nor did "big" government spending on infrastructure expansion or education. The Cold War and Defense spending was also a part of the economic engine of course. So was the "space race." A lot of the engineers and scientists who made all of the previous possible were educated via the GI Bill. Damn that Socialism!

I grew up in Bethlehem PA. Born just months before this ad was run. My dad started working in the plant at 21 after having to marry my mom because of my arrival. He worked night shift, while going to Lehigh University to become an engineer. He continued to work in the plant for 13 more years as a foreman during the golden years of "the steel." He was able to later become a salesman for the company and made decent money. He sent my brother and I to a top boarding school and on to college. Myself to an Ivy. All that and retire after 30 years at only 53. He lived comfortably on his pension and savings until social security kicked in, which he mostly just saved too. Aside from spending top dollar on our education, he and my mother lived frugally all their lives and taught us the value of thrift as well. When he passed on suddenly at 75, from Rapid Onset Alzheimer's, he left us a surprising portfolio of investments, bank accounts, and other assets, none of us knew he had.

Contrast all that with the situation we're in today. Especially the situation our bright young people are in.

srfRantz

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Tuesday December 18, 2012 · 7:07 AM PST

2012/12/18 · 07:07

Scene 3: Teamwork

We rolled as many different sections as we had nationalities. As I recall 42, 44 somethin’ like that. Anything from 5 x 5 to 8 x 8 angle, bulb angles, 8" channel to 15" channel and all the different ship channels known to man, and some special sections. Hey, and 3 or 4 weights or gauges on every section. Hell of a load for that old mill. Way I heard it she was a rail mill first and then Bethlehem Steel bought her second-hand around the turn of the century and converted her to a structural mill. Hell, Charlie Schwab was runnin’ things then, knew a good mill when he seen one. Drove it with steam too. Ain’t an electric motor made that could drive a mill like the 28: three-high rougher, three-high strand and two-high finisher with bars in every stand.

That old mill made a lotta money for Bethlehem Steel. Made a lotta money for us too. Best thing they ever thought of was payin’ us tonnage. Makes a man wanta work. The more you roll, the more you make. O.K. with me.

Some of them sections were real money-makers like 8" channel. Get on 8" channel lightweight and roll 2500 bars, ’nuff to last 5 or 6 turns without a roll change. Then once in a while you’d get a small order for somethin’ like SC6B, like for 90 bars and you’d have to change rolls twice in one turn.

Other sections, they was a real bitch, like the goddamn 5 x 4 1/2 bulb angle. The roller’d have a hell of a time gettin’ section and it was tough to hold in the mill ’cause it had so much sweep. Then to top it off, if you did get goin’ you’d block the hot bed ’cause it was hard to straighten. Looked like spaghetti lyin’ out there. Never could make no money on that section. It was used as a sill piece on railroad cars and every time I get stuck at a railroad crossing and see those gondolas whizzin’ by I think of the goddamn 5 x 4 1/2 bulb angle.

srfRantz

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Tuesday December 18, 2012 · 5:20 AM PST

2012/12/18 · 05:20

The play my father wrote for me when I told him I wanted to be an actor.

In memory of American Steelworkers everywhere.

THE 28 INCH MILL

ACT I

Scene 1: Just A Thought

(The set is a bare stage with a simple kitchen table and two chairs. There is a phone on a small side table stage left. Stage right is a sideboard, something like an old dry sink or jelly cupboard, with candles and a tray of glasses, decanter, etc. Karl enters and picks up the telephone and dials a number. No answer. He dials another number.)

KARL: Hello, Janos, this is Karl, yeah, Karl Yoder. Hey, how are ya doin’?
(Pause)
Ah, I come up from Florida to visit my mother. I just thought I’d give you a call. I been thinkin’ about the mill. It’s been over thirty years since they shut down the 28. I was wonderin’ how all the guys are doin’. I was thinkin’ maybe we could get a bunch of us together and have like a reunion or somethin’. You know, talk about old times and stuff. (Pause)
Well, how about Louie Silverstein or Johnny Atiyeh?
(Pause)
No kiddin’. When?
(Pause) Then how about Ivar Kerensky? Mike O’Brien? What about Fritz Lehman? Lopez? Washington? Stahl? Romanovich? Andresko? Zeleski?
(Long Pause)
Jesus, all of ’em?
(Pause) Well, hows about just me and you gettin’ together for a few beers and go over old times?
(Pause)
Yeah, I understand. Nah, don’t worry about it. It was just a thought. Maybe some other time.
(Pause)
Yeah, it was good to talk to you, too. Take it easy.

(Karl hangs up the receiver and goes offstage briefly and returns with a bottle of Wild Turkey and a couple glasses and sits down at the table U.C. He pours two drinks and slowly sips his. There is a long pause. When he begins to speak he addresses the audience directly and we realize that what we are witnessing and hearing is an encounter that he imagines or wishes to be happening.)

srfRantz

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Monday December 17, 2012 · 7:13 AM PST

2012/12/17 · 07:13

My father is dead. He died in 2006 of Alzheimers. He was only 75. I miss him terribly. A day doesn't go by that I don't think of him. He spent his entire working life at the Bethlehem Steel Corporation, a company that no longer exists.

Lately I've been working with a couple of guys from here in Bethlehem, PA, to get a web site online so they could market their work, video documentaries and a book/memoir, that tells the stories of the men and women who worked at the once great, now defunct, Bethlehem Steel. That—the demise of 'The Steel'—is a great tragedy, especially here in Bethlehem, but also for our nation that was once great in large part because of our industrial strength and the economic power it gave to our largely unionized work force and the upward social mobility it provided them and their children.

Like me.

I'm one of those kids. I had the advantage of great schools, a college education, and a strong and supportive society around me as I grew up and matured and sought to find my own way in the world.

In the 60s and early 70s, like a good number of my generation, I rebelled against all they had given us. The Viet Nam war was the primary driver of that rebellion, but so was the consumer-driven, corporate-ladder-climbing, cubicle-dwelling 'rat race' life we saw awaiting us if we accepted it no questions asked.

I know that rebellion deeply hurt my father and other "old white men" of his generation. They'd worked hard in the mills and mines so that we could avoid such a dismal fate. They fought on the picket lines against the company goons so that they could provide their families with a living wage and a better chance for social advantage.

And we all said a big generational "fuck you." That had to hurt.

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Dear Ron:

Molon Labe?

The 28 Inch Mill: Deer Huntin'

The 28 Inch Mill: Lefty California

The 28 Inch Mill: Strikes!

The 28 Inch Mill: Smart Dumb Guys

Unions & Job Safety: Is there a correlation?

Remember when strong unions and high taxes killed jobs?

The 28 Inch Mill: Teamwork

The 28 Inch Mill: United Nations

Dreams of My Father & 'The 28 Inch Mill'