Labor Days Past

[Stinky The Clown]

My Dad was a union guy his whole life. I started out as one, but ultimately went into a business where there were no unions to join.

But I sure remember when labor unions meant something.

I remember walking a picket line with my Dad. It was summer and they were striking Singer (sewing machines). I was too young to know what the issue was. Instead I remember that experience in snippets - more like snapshot memories instead of clear stories.

I was on the line, along with a remarkable number of other kids, because Mom had to go to work while Dad was on strike.

I heard words I never heard before. "Scab" and "Fuck you" were among them. Dad explained the meaning of one, but not the other.

Dad's hand was really big. Mine, which he held, was tiny. I wanted to be just like Dad.

Years later, I got scolded by Dad when I joined the same union he did, but joined under the sponsorship of some other guy. I didn't know there was some sort of benefit to a brother who brings in a new member ..... even if that new member is his own kid. I still feel bad about that.

Dad was a shop steward.

I remember Dad on strike again, years later. Different company, same bullshit. Mom didn't have to go to work. The strike fund was bigger and the payments more generous. Mom and Dad had paid off their mortgage. My brother (then and now a member of the teachers' union) and I sent them money.

After he retired .... and after he died .... the union was still there. My Mom went to most of their functions, particularly the ones for the retirees. At both of their funerals, Mom's and Dad's, the union was there. So were all their friends ..... including their union friends, the names of some I had only heard mentioned but never met.

The union was a part of their lives as much as anything I can remember.

The union took care of my brother and me by taking care of my father. While I was only a member a short time, I still have my card. And my pin. And all of Dad's stuff. The watch they gave him when he retired. No cheapie, it was a (then) very expensive Bulova Acutron. My brother still has that.

Labor Days Past ...... but the union still needs to exist.

Sadly, I suspect it always will.

[SheWhoMustBeObeyed]

1. A salute to your wonderful dad

:toast:

I joined my dad's union when he recommended me for a job at a plant he repped. I kept my nose clean and worked hard, knowing he'd get crap about it if I screwed up.

The best part was, from the moment I pasted my first stamp in my dues book, Dad and I saw each other through new eyes. For 18 years I was just his kid; he was just my dad. The union made us colleagues, and friends.

That's why your post chokes me up, and why it deserves a big kick.

Cheers to you, too!

:toast: