Memories Of Another Day Part 48

"Where do they work?"

"Not here," Moses said. "They're from out of town. But they're miners, all right. They all hold union cards/' He made a left turn on the far side of the town center and pulled the car to a stop in front of a large house. "We're here."

Daniel waited while Moses locked the car, then followed him up to the house. Junior was waiting just inside the door. ''Father," he said, a smile on his face.

Daniel took his hand. Junior had filled out. Somehow he didn't look as boyish as he had looked three months ago. "How are you, son?"

Junior nodded. ''Fine. You?''

"Real good."

"Come with me," Junior said. "Everybody's waiting in the dining room."

There were five men waiting around the table. Two of them Daniel knew. They worked for C.A.L.L. Jack Haney, the young new labor lawyer who had joined them last year, and Moses' a.s.sistant, a bright statistical a.n.a.lyst just recruited from the Wharton School of Finance. Daniel shook their hands, and Junior performed the introduction of the others.

Max Neal and Barry Leif, sent up from the U.M.W. headquarters in Middleboro, and Eteputy Sheriff Mike Carson, a veteran U.M.W. activist. To all intents and purposes, they were spearheading the U.M.W, drive in Jellico.

Daniel sat down at the head of the table and looked around. He came right to the point. "You all know why I'm here. I've been asked by John L. Lewis to give him a report on certain aspects of our organizational efforts in this area, so let's get right down to it. The first order of business is Who's got the whiskey?"

They all laughed. Deputy Sheriff Carson answered while bringing up a jug from underneath the table. "Never thought you'd git aroun' to askin', Big Dan." Gla.s.ses appeared almost magically. He filled a gla.s.s and pa.s.sed it to Daniel. "This is down-home product. The best."

Daniel tasted it. It was liquid fire going down. He smiled. "You're right. Sheriff. Haven't tasted squeez- in's like this since I used to he'p out my paw with our stiU.''

'Thanks, Big Dan. Comin' from you, I regard that as a real compliment." Carson filled the other gla.s.ses and pa.s.sed them around. He raised his gla.s.s. ''Welcome home, Big Dan."

Daniel nodded and took another drink. "Now fill me in."

Jack Haney looked around the table. "Any objections if I just do a qufck summary?" There were no objections. He glanced down at a sheaf of papers. "The princ.i.p.al problem here is the Osborne mines. They're the biggest in the area and operating through a series of tipples, and blind trucking companies are avoiding union contracts and selling coal to the T. V.A. at less than the prices union mines can afford because of two factors.

"One, he pays less than union-scale wages. Two, he doesn't have the forty-cents-a-ton contribution to the union welfare fund. He claims that if he paid either one or both, he would not be able to bid in T.V.A. contracts and he would go broke. Because of his leadership, there are about thirty to forty other smaller mines following the same patterns. And that's the nub."

"You have his figures?" Daniel asked.

Moses answered. "Yes." His a.s.sistant gave him a set of papers. "Right here."

"You've done an extrapolation?"

Moses nodded, "And?"

"Basically, he's right. The way he's operating, he'd go broke if he paid out."

"You said the way he's operating?"

"He's old-fashioned," Moses said. "His productivity is about eight tons per man, as against completely equipped union mines' getting thirty tons per man. If he could make the equipment change, he could afford the salaries and welfare-fund payments. But he claims he hasn't the capital to do it/'

''Has he?"

*'No," Moses said. 'The way he operates, he's marginal."

''And the others?"

"They're as bad off as he is or worse." He put down the papers. "They're mostly family-type operations."

Barry Leif spoke up. "The end result is that we're all gittin' screwed. Unionized mines can't meet their prices, so the result is that they're layin' off workers while the others are puttin' them on. We got four big mines, employ in' over a thousand members, about ready to shut down right now."

"Driving through town," Daniel said, "I saw a lot of men. on the streets. They all miners?"

Leif nodded.

"Working around here?"

"No," Max Neal said. "They're volunteers we brought up from Middleboro to help us straighten out this here mess."

"How do you expect to do that?" Daniel asked.

"We'll turn the heat on the scab b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. They'll either join up or we'll bust 'em up."

Daniel looked around the table. After a moment, he nodded. "I've got the picture," he said. "Suppose tomorrow you take me around so I can get a firsthand look at the problem."

"What time?"

"Right after breakfast. Eight o'clock okay?"

After the U.M.W. organizers and the deputy sheriff had gone, Daniel looked around the table. "Okay. Now give it to me straight."

Moses was the first to speak. "We're sitting on a volcano that's about ready to erupt. Yesterday they began stopping the trucks coming into town to pick up coal. If they didn't turn away, the sheriff gave them a warrant for operating without proper equipment. Then on the way out of town, the drivers were hauled out of the trucks, had the s.h.i.t kicked out of them and the coal was dumped. Now we hear that Osborne has hired armed guards to ride the trucks to the state line. Carson says he's ready for them, and he's deputizing over a hundred of the U.M.W. volunteers and issuing gun permits. Plans are being drawn to dynamite some of the smaller mines and to have flying squads go to others and force the men to sign up. Some of these mines are owner-worked-and-operated; they're mountain people and they're not going to take it lying down. They're armed and ready. All the makings are here for a bloodbath."

Daniel turned to Jack Haney. ''What's the legal position?"

''Not good," the young lawyer said. "As the law now reads, the U.M.W. is liable for any damages that result. Even if they succeed in forcing unionization of all the mines, they're still liable for a lot of money. It may take years for the courts to a.s.sess the penalties, but when they do, it can have a genuine damaging effect on the U.M.W. financial structure."

"What about an N.L.R.B. election?"

"U.M.W. doesn't want it. They haven't the local membership and they know they'll lose."

"What about direct negotiation?"

"Completely broken down. Neither side trusts the other."

"Any ideas on a possible compromise that would get them together?"

There was silence for a moment. Then Junior spoke. "I have one. But I don't know enough as to whether it's practical."

"Let's hear it, then, son."

"U.M.W. has brought in at least five hundred men, and they're not paying their own way. It's costing U.M.W. at least twenty-five hundred a day to keep them. I think the mine owners would go for union- scale wages if the welfare tonnage payments could be cut."

''Lewis wouldn't go for that. It would prejudice every other deal he's made."

''On the surface, the forty cents a ton wouldn't have to be changed. Supposing they paid ten cents a ton as mined and accepted a payment plan for the balance based on audited profits at the end of each year. If there aren't enough profits in the kitty, just carry it over to the next year. Meanwhile, the union shows the total forty cents a ton due to the welfare fund, with the unpaid portion as a receivable. Over a three-year period, based on present production of these mines, even if the union never collected the balance, it would come out cheaper than maintaining these men here for another sixty days as well as the liabilities that could result from the present situation."

Daniel looked at his son. He nodded slowly. He didn't show the pride that he felt. There might be flaws in the plan, but it was a step in the right direction. It was a face-saving compromise for both sides. But more than that. It was his son who had thought of it. No one else. His son. He looked around the table. "What do you think?" he asked of the others.

Moses answered for all of them. "It's a good idea. It just might work. But you'd have to sell it to Lewis first."

"How much time do we have?"

"Not much. A few days at the most. Neal and Leif are ready to blow the lid off."

"Any chance of slowing them down?"

Moses shook his head. "None."

Daniel poured himself another drink. He gulped it down. "If it does blow, is there any way in which we can support and justify the U.M.W. position? After all, that is what we were hired to do."

Moses looked around at the others. Again he spoke for them. "I don't see how we could. Even with both sides wrong, we can't say that makes one side right."

Daniel was weary. "If we can't do that, we lose Lewis and the U.M.W. Then we're practically back where we started. We lose their payments and we're broke again."

''We don't have to do anything, Father," Junior said. "All we have to do is take our time getting the report ready. By the time we get it into Lewis' hands, there will be nothing that can be done. Meanwhile, we've done what we're supposed to do."

"On the surface, yes," Daniel said. "But we all know better. We're not being honest,"

"n.o.body's asking us to be honest. Father."

Daniel looked at his son without speaking.

"The way I see it right now, it's a question of survival. Maybe the next time we could afford to be honest. If we ever expect to be anything at all^ we have to be around to do it."

Daniel shook his head. "That's not the way I do it. I'm going up to Washington tomorrow to see Lewis."

"Why, Father? Why don't you just let us finish our report and then take it up there in the usual manner? You don't have to charge up there like a knight on a white horse. What do you hope to accompUsh?"

"Once this starts, a lot of people are going to be hurt. On both sides. It doesn't matter. Maybe we can prevent that."

"It's not our war. Father," Junior said. "All your life you've been fighting other people's wm^, and where did it get you?"

"I'm sorry, son," Daniel said. "But your idea is a good one. I'm sure that when Lewis hears what is happening down here, he'll do something about it."

Junior met his father's eyes. "What makes you think he doesn't know? This has been the pattern of every U.M.W. drive since '44. Meadow Creek mines in Sparta, Tennessee, 1948. Dynamite, violence, terror. The same tactics in Hopkins County, Kentucky, against the West Kentucky Coal Company in 1949. Fve got a list as long as your arm. John L. Lewis is the United Mine Workers, and he will be until the day he retires or dies. And just because he delegates the dirty work to Tony Boyle and his other a.s.sistants, do you think he doesn't know exactly what is happening?"

''You might be right, but I still have to do it."

''No, Father. You're not being fair. To yourself or the men who stuck with you all these years, sacrificing themselves and their families and their careers in pursuit of an ideal that simply doesn't work in our society. You recognized that yourself when you made your proposition to Boyle and Hoffa, when you took that money from our friend in Florida. You yourself made the deal. You can't walk away from it now."

Daniel's voice was gentle. "It's easy for you to speak, son. And maybe you're right. It's not our war. But I've been there. In the midst of violence, with the hurt and the dead lying around me. I can't let it happen as long as there is a chance I can prevent it."

They were silent. Daniel looked around the table. "That was personal," he said. "We still have to do the job we're supposed to do. After this is all over, we're going to have to supply the U.M.W, with the justification they'll feel they needed to do all this." He rose to his feet. "Cancel my appointment to go out tomorrow. Tell them I was called back on an emergency." He turned to his son. "Do you think you can drive me back to the airport?"

The sleet had stopped, but the road was slippery. For a long while they were both silent, until the car was near the airport; then Daniel turned to his son.

"You made me very proud, son."

"I thought you were angry with me, Father. I don't want that to happen. Ever. I want to please you. Even if we don't agree."

"I wasn't angry. What you said was true. But I'm old-fashioned, I guess. I remember the way it used to be. The dreams we had when I was young. But you're right. It's another world."

**It's the same world, Father. It's just that there are different ways of doing things."

*'When this job is finished, I want you to go back to college," Daniel said.

*'Do you think it's necessary, Father? I can do a lot to help you."

"You said it was a different world. Junior. You're going to have to know a lot more about it than I did." He reached for a cigar, then put it back in his pocket. "No point in lighting this. They'll only make me throw it away when I get on the plane."

Junior laughed as they turned into the airport road. "How's Margaret?"

"She's fine."

"She happy about the baby?"

"I think so." Daniel glanced across the seat at him. "Are you?"

Junior nodded. "If you are."

"I am. Margaret's a good girl."

"She's young. Father."

Daniel smiled. "I guess she is. But I'm still a mountain man at heart. We pick 'em young."

Junior was silent.

"You don't approve?"

"You're fifty-six. Father. It isn't as if you didn't have girls. All my life I've seen you with them. I just didn't understand why, that's all."

"Maybe it was because she reminded me of the giris I knew when I was young. Girls who grew up before their years. Girls who were used to taking care of their families."

Again Junior was silent.

"Or maybe it was because I loved her, son."

Junior turned to look at him as he stopped the car in front of the terminal building. "That's the best reason of all, Father. You don't need any more than that."

Daniel got out of the car. He leaned back into it. ''You know, son, that I love you too.''

Junior's eyes were moist. ''And I love you. Father."