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Sunday February 21, 1915
From The Labor World: A Young Man Recounts His Time Spent as a Scab
It is not often that we find a worker willing to offer a description of his time spent as one of
, and we therefore offer, without comment, this account given by F. C. Hall.
As regards Dr. Charles W. Eliot who believes that scabs are the heroes of American industry, we will leave that comment to Mother Jones:
A "SCAB'S" CONVERSION TO UNIONISM
By F. C. Hall, in The Survey.
About four months before I began my work as a strike-breaker, I had left one of our large western universities with on dollar and twenty-four cents in my pocket. By the aid of "blind-baggages" and empty freight cars I finally reached Minneapolis. Here Barnum and Bailey's circus offered the best means of reaching the Dakota harvests. A week was spent amid the blare of bands the noise of toy balloons and professional barkers, and then two months in the wheat fields near Starkweather. Afterwards I drifted into an employment agency's office at Duluth, and in spite of the fact that work that season was at a premium, I received a ready engagement.
$2 Buys "Scab's" Job.
After a payment of a fee of two dollars, I was assigned to a position as "Flunkey" in the Great Northern railroad yards of Superior, Wis. The nature of the position was entirely unknown to me, but before departing, it was explained that it was "merely" helping around, getting water and making myself generally useful to a cook in the employ of the railroad shops. Three months later my suspicions of such a description would have been instantaneous. At this time however, I had little realization that men are not boarded by railway companies for philanthropic purposes; nor did I feel the significance of the final injunction, "Keep a cool head, and the money will come your way all right." I was an innocent abroad. I had in reality, become a "scab" for the Great Northern railroad in the war it was waging with its striking boiler-makers and boiler-makers' helpers.
The position of flunkey took me into peculiar surrounding. About twenty yards away from the roundhouse and perhaps one hundred yards distant from the machine shops, were four freight cars. These were devoid of wheels, rested on the ground, and were used respectively for general lounging-room, wash-room, kitchen and dining-room. Two passenger coaches were also side-tracked and were used for sleeping apartments.
Gets a Friendly Tip
One of the disagreeable duties of my occupation as flunkey was to carry water from a public well about five hundred yards distant on the outskirts of Superior. It was at this well one day, early in the strike, that the full meaning of my situation dawned upon me. I was accosted by a young man of my own age who gave me to understand in a rather undiplomatic language that I was a "scab," that the term meant the worst possible specimen of humanity-a "cut-throat," a "sneak," a "cur;" that he was a union brakeman, and that, if we "dogs" didn't desist from scabbing, we were going to receive a "cold-lead reception" or something to that effect.
Of course, I was naturally frightened at so sudden an attack. I endeavored to make a concise statement of my innocence in striketroubles, but as I recollect, not much time was lost in retracing my steps to the cook-car. Here I recited my interview to the cook and a few scabs who were lounging about-although they were receiving forty-five cents an hour for working-and they were more vehement in describing what they and the "pinks," as the guards were sometimes called, would do. In fact, their denunciation of the union was far more vigorous than any striker could have given of our side. The apparent bravery displayed was far superior to any that I had ever seen, and, I am sure, the character and variety of oaths could be excelled nowhere. It is therefore, little wonder that I felt my position secure under such bravado.
Union Men Did Not Interfere.
I was not molested by the real union men in my work outside of the shops. One element that did cause me irritation was the school children. Girls and boys ranging from eight to fourteen, and tots of four and five, had learned the effective use of the simple word, "scab." If Johnnie or Willie or Mary were alone, the customary, derisive epithet was yelled with many repetitions. When a band of such youngsters put all the vigor of their youthful lungs into effective use, every word is one of hatred and spite,-and the most hardened strikebreaker will feel ashamed and abashed.
The climax of affairs was reached one day when about a dozen young people gathered near a bridge which separated the well from the roundhouse. A girl seemed to be the most satirical of all-one whom I came to recognize as the leader. The crescendo of voices soon reached a pitch were a few stones were used as effective mediums of reproach, but, fortunately, I was at a sufficient distance to be out of harm's reach.
One day this same leader-"Bessie" she was called by her companions handed me a postcard. The back revealed a picture of a Teddy Bear; the advertising surrounding the picture indicated that it had been obtained from a package of sop. Underneath was written, "He ain't a scab," and on the reverse side, was my new name and address: "To Mr. Jim Scab, care of Scab-Dump." Through all this derision, I either maintained a calm indifference or made light of the matter by joking, but unionism had been so deeply ingrained in these young minds that they could not see a comic touch in anything that an opponent of their very existence might say.
Besides my duties of carrying water, I was considered general all-around man. This meant that part of my labor was to see that fires were kept in all the cars, that water, soap and towels were regularly provided, that lamps were filled with oil, and that the scabs were called at a certain time in the morning. It was in this capacity that I was enabled to witness some very interesting manifestations of Dr. Eliot's "hero."
Type of Dr. Eliot's Hero.
Probably the worst tendencies of the scabs with whom I associated were their aptitude for indecent, obscene language, and their marked appetite for liquor. It would naturally seem that there would be little opportunity of getting the latter, but it was brought in by guards and others who were not so closely connected with the strike. Some of the men would refuse to work until their appetites had been gratified. The bolder of the scabs would make occasional raids out into the Superior saloons under cover of darkness. As a consequence of all this there were many fights, some of which were of a serious nature.
I remember very distinctly one of these disturbances: A young Englishman, whom I recognized as a novice in the strike business, engaged in a poker game with several others in the lounging-car one evening. "Blacky," "Murphy," and "Butch" were among the number, old-time professionals, who, as they were fond of boasting, had worked on previous strikes in New Orleans, New York, and especially the Chicago teamsters' strike. It was in this latter place that "Butch" received his name. In a saloon brawl he had been given a deep gash in the throat. A long ugly scar revealed the fact of how near he had come to death.
Eliot's Hero In Real Life.
In this card game liquor circulated freely, and when the young Englishman claimed that Butch had cheated, little time was consumed with words. A pistol was promptly drawn by the hero of so many strikes, and a shot followed. One participant in the affair spent a brief time in the local lock-up, the other in the Superior hospital. Sufficient evidence to convict could not be obtained, and, shortly afterward, Butch was reinstated in his old position. In such work as strikebreaking no matter how black a past record a man has, it counts for little, for men have to be obtained at any cost. Murderer, thief, tramp, or college student-no matter what you are-you are acceptable if you have the capacity "for making the machinery go and forcing smoke out of chimneys."
Evidences of rowdyism were to be found on every hand. Two armfuls of empty whiskey and beer bottles were carried out of the lounging-room one morning as a result of a single night's jubilee. In addition, a railing which divided the car into two parts was splintered as if a bolt of lightning had struck it; broken glass, stumps of cigarettes, old newspapers, and, here and there, a five spot or an ace from a deck of cards-all these demonstrated the qualities of the heros with whom I was associating.
Must Be Well Fed.
The meals served to these people of the Great Northern shops excelled anything I have ever seen in the way of good substantial repast. Food was not only well prepared, but there was an abundance; fruit, meat, vegetables, and, in fact, everything that could be desired was placed before us. Yet, "Satisfaction breeds discontent;" so the strike-breakers, instead of appreciating the well-stocked table, were continually complaining about the "chuck," the "spuds," the "greasers," and all that we were accustomed to eat.
Another characteristic of these "strike-breakers" was tendency to be "light-fingered." A fountain pen and a pair of boots, which I had recently bought, disappeared as if by magic. A few days after may loss, I noticed a companion of Murphy's wearing the boots. I remonstrated and told the fellow that I thought he had made a mistake. I was surprised to receive the gruff reply as he passed on, "What the devil do you care?" In a strike there is little government and order; everybody knows it, and the ultra-professionals-yes, even those who are not-take full advantage of the laxity.
After a month's employment as "flunkey," I made application for a position inside the round-house as a boiler-maker's helper. I knew beforehand that I would be successful in obtaining this promotion, if it may be called such, for I had previously witnessed the migration of two cooks' assistants into the shops as full fledged helpers because of the lack of men. I also knew that "the money would come my way," for instead of forty dollars a month, I would receive thirty cents an hour with time-and-a-half for overtime, or forty-five cents if called to work after regular hours. This latter wage, as well as the former, of course, included board and lodging in the cars. It was thus that I became a night-helper with two guards and three Germans-John, Fritz and Carl-for working companions.
What Is a "Scab" Worth?
"A real scab," as one of the humorists of our shops said, "is worth more than what he earns and then some." The significance of this remark was revealed to me in its fullest meaning when I was initiated into the "spoils system." This system, which I understood was practiced to a great extent by all night-men in securing overtime, was this: Instead of coming to work at our proper, designated hour of six-o'clock we were to come at five and punch the time clock. From five to six, we were to make a slight effort in the way of work or else keep aloof from the gaze of the "head push." Similarly in the morning, instead of quitting at five, we were to stay until six. Thereby a helpers daily wage would be increased by ninety cents, and a boiler-maker, who receives forty-five cents an hour regularly, would receive for his daily booty sixty-seven cents an hour or a total of one dollar and thirty-four cents a day in addition to his wages. This scheme had gone so far that one strike-breaker laughingly boasted of having placed in so much overtime that he had scarcely been able to "hit the hay," in the last two weeks.
It is distasteful to report one's association with a gang of thieves, but if there be any better guide to systematic highway robbery, I have been unable to find it. The scab is never satisfied. His energy is devoted to procuring loop-holes for escaping work and to inventing ingenious methods, such as these, of obtaining unearned money which he wastes upon the saloon and the house of ill-fame.
Something of the nature of my qualifications and fitness for the position I now held have already been intimated. What was true in my case was true for nine-tenths of all who engaged in the strike. One man to my knowledge was a real boiler-maker-a member of the trade union back in jBuffalo-and probably the tenth that I have divided from the remainder were of this type, namely, union men depraved enough to sacrifice their honor and pledge to their fellows and to undertake this kind of labor in a distant city for the sake of the money there was in it. The other helpers and boiler-makers, or the nine-tenths, were the professional mostly, that is, those who made it a regular business to work on any strike from a jeweler's to a cab-driver's; and lastly stragglers, hoboes, adventurers, or college students.
A Detriment to Employer.
The employment of such men in responsible positions is not only detrimental to the company's interest but also dangerous to the public welfare. I was engaged with a boiler-maker one evening upon the repair of an ash-pan of an engine which was due to leave the round-house at ten o'clock. My companion, I soon discovered, knew little of how to fix the rods so that the covers of the pan would close properly. We finally resorted to a quick and ingenious way of solving the problem by obtaining a few sticks and propping up the covers in a position. It was dark; no one would notice the deception, and the engine would start on its journey. Yet, after proceeding for only a few miles, the props would become loosened, and in consequence the covers would drop and fire be scattered all along the road. As a second consequence, there was extreme danger of a railway conflagration with an indefinite loss of property and life.
A more important piece of scab labor as regards consequences, which we were called upon to perform was in connection with repairing the flues. To do this work properly an air hammer should ordinarily be use. Invariably the task was performed, by using a tool called an expander. This was simply a large, iron plug driven into each flue, thus expanding the flue and temporarily stopping the leak. From my experience with union men later, I found the correct way was to use both methods. Extreme pressure from steam is brought to bear on flues and boiler. If these have not been properly taken care of there may be breaks, leaks, and possibly an explosion-a wreck.
Strike Called Off.
About the meddle of March the strike was called off. At the turn of affairs the philanthropic company lowered our wages and compelled us to work every other Sunday night. From a clear profit of $102.31 the first month, my wage was lowered a straight $60 a month with no overtime. Free board and lodging were also cut short; we were compelled to find these now as any other individual would in hotels or private houses. Special favors and persuasive statements of our officials that "we had better stay," when the wanderlust tendency became dominant in any one of us, now became a minus quantity. As one boss told an associate of mine, "I don't care a cuss or rip where you devils turn up now; there are too many men who want to show us what work means."
And no scab did care about staying, for the period of "easy-money" had passed with the strike at an end. The professionals and others vanished as with the wind and almost before I was aware of it, an influx of union men refilled the shops.
It will always remain a mystery to me why I should have been the last of the scabs and why I should have worked so long with union men-over two months-without receiving a summons of discharge. I can only account for my continued employment by the fact that I was considered fairly conscientious, and, more important still, because the night-boss a rather young fellow himself, had taken a peculiar liking to me.
Ostracized.
I mention briefly my experience and tribulations with union men because the reader's imagination can develop this very adequately for himself. It was mostly a period of dishonorable ostracism-men had as little to do with me as possible not only inside, but outside as well. Shunned, disregarded, made to feel the significance of the past winter in my role as strike-breaker, it is little wonder that such separation from the social world should make one feel more animal than human.
However, I did not feel at enmity toward the men who thus ostracized me. I respect them. If a low, degenerate professional at this very moment should attempt to force me into starvation when work was at a premium and I was fighting for better working conditions, I am sure no one of any intelligence would blame me if "I respected his distance." Furthermore, the new clean atmosphere; the phenomenal improvement in all work which came under my observation; the fact that here were men-real men-who did not venture the first time his back was turned to steal away the least article of value from a working associate; and real men who had a definite purpose, an aim in life, whether it were the rearing of a family or the spending of half the monthly wage on some honest girl-all these influences could not but be inspiring in comparison with the past and serve to detract from any animosity that I might entertain toward the union laborer.
A Real Confession.
Such was my experience and such my conclusions relative to this most vivid encounter with labor troubles. As a final work, I voluntarily set my own day of liberation from the Superior round-house as June 10. I then proceeded to attend the University of Wisconsin summer school, but before doing so, I passed over into Duluth. This time I was not let into a deceptive employment bureau, but into a quiet little Salvation Army hall. Confessions, prayers and the music of the drum and tambourine were the usual effective mediums. I have always prided myself as being above mere sentimentality, but when "a sister" came back to my rear seat and, without knowing anything of my past career, almost tearfully asked me if I were not tired of the life I had been leading, I replied in all sincerity, "Yes."
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Strike Breakers
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More research is needed on the authorship.