Cotton Compress Unionism in California’s Central Valley, 1951-57

The Dispatcher, April, 1996
Edited by Harvey Schwartz

GEORGE LEE

“These people are robbing you, stealing your labor.”

Chet and I campaigned up and down the highway. We were a team. One night we would visit workers in Bakersfield, the next night McFarland, the next Tulare. The Valley was a racist place then. We were meeting in this one little town. Afterwards, this Caucasian says to me, “You planning on stayin’ overnight here?” I said, “Sure as hell is.” After he left, a black guy who worked at Calcot Compress in Bakersfield told me, “Brother, I advise you not to stay here tonight!” Sometimes, at night Chet and I would pull over to the side of the road and sleep in the car.

Organizing, we’d go to the plant at noon, find the key skilled people who had influence, and talk to them at night to get their point of view. We’d put out a leaflet and go back and ask ’em how the leaflet was received among the workers. If something was wrong, we’d correct it in the next leaflet.

We met at Kenneth Gatewood’s house in Bakersfield. He was a key person at Bakersfield’s San Joaquin Compress and he was the strongest guy in the Valley. San Joaquin was the first place organized into Local 26 because of Gatewood and his friend Elijah Fifer. At these meetings we’d tell the workers, “These people are robbing you, stealing your labor. They gettin’ rich and the only protection you have is to act in unity; and you can’t stand alone, you have to have a union to support you.”

The workers trusted me; I’d worked in the industry and was considered one of their own. They were black and Mexican, and Chet was white, but he did all right because he spoke the workers’ language. He knew what it meant to suffer and be punished. Chet had spent a lot of time in New Orleans; he was able to relate how unjust it was there. And he had a unique way of organizing. Chet went to people’s houses. He’d sit down at their table, eat their food and make himself part of them. Most organizers want to talk to a guy in a restaurant or on the picket line. Chet would visit a guy at his house and stay for hours. Most people don’t find the time.

CHET MESKE

“I had strong guys on my side.”

Many organizers would call a meeting in the hall right away and push cards under people’s noses. I’d get one or two names and I didn’t want more than one or two on the first initial meeting. Then I’d get another two, and I’d get additional information. So when I’d call a big meeting I’d know the ins and outs within that plant. I’d talk like an expert—I’d know the grievances, what the workers were getting and what I could offer.

Another thing I had in my favor was that we had a cotton compress organized in Local 26 on the L.A. waterfront. The Valley compress workers knew about the conditions we had in the harbor. Some of them originally came from that area. So it got around; that helped. And I had strong guys on my side like Gatewood and Fifer.

DAVE BURCIAGA

“He walked away and never came back.”

I was working at San Joaquin Compress in Bakersfield in 1951 when the AFL Butchers Union and ILWU Local 26 were on the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) ballot to decide representation. The Butcher guy, Hudson, came over once. I asked him, “How many Mexican and black butchers do you have in your union working at the stores?” He tried to bullshit me. I said, “No, answer me.” He walked away and never came back to San Joaquin. The Butchers got on the ballot, but they didn’t get any votes.

CHET MESKE

“He opened the desk drawer and took out a gun.”

At Calcot Compress in Bakersfield we got a contract, but when we tried to renew it in 1952 we had trouble. We had a negotiating committee of five and we walked into the office. F.W. Frick, the president of Calcot, said, “We’re not going to negotiate with you. Who the hell are you?” He opened the desk drawer, took out a gun, and asked, “Why don’t you get out of here before I use this?” I’d keyed the guys in ahead of time that if we don’t get anywhere, we’re gonna walk out.

So we walked out of the office with our hands up. The workers saw that, and right away the steam was cut off. About 200 men followed us out the gate. We set up a picket line. Then they started importing white scabs from the South. This created more resentment among the men because the compress workers were Spanish and black and the foremen were white.

I tried to persuade the scabs not to go into the plant. When they were in front of Calcot in cars I opened one car’s door and started talking. The driver began to move ahead slowly; the sheriff was waving them in. I twisted this guy by the ears, then reached for a guy in the back seat. The cop pulled me out, and the scabs drove in. I didn’t know it but the owners were prepared. There were photographers on the roof snapping pictures right and left. All the newspapers were there. So I was hauled away and had to go to court and pay a fine.

STERLING GREEN

“I’m with the men.”

When the ’52 strike came I was the chief steward at Calcot. They brought them scabs in here in boxcars. They fixed the place out at the plant for ’em to sleep and eat. The scabs were some of everything—white guys, Mexicans a few blacks. Maybe 25 or 30 scabs came. Some left; they said they didn’t know they was comin’ into something like that. About 15 or 20 strike breakers were still there when we went back to work. Only five stayed for a long time but they gave those five top seniority, which they shouldn’t have had. So I know we lost that part of it.

I was the picket captain during the strike. Our guys was very good, although we had one man, “Papa” Hayes, a lever puller, who slipped into work. He tried to get me to take a gang into the cotton yard and sample and tag cotton. Then trucks would bring it in. I said, I ain’t gonna do nothin’ like that; I’m with the men.”

GEORGE LEE

“They fired a lot of people.”

For a while after the ’52 strike Calcot still didn’t want to recognize Local 26 and they wouldn’t give us a decent contract. They fired a lot of people who the NLRB ordered reinstated with back pay because the company had violated the law against discriminating against people involved in union activity. The company was also ordered to recognize Local 26 and bargain in good faith.

Eventually we got the union shop at Calcot. G.H. Mullins, the superintendent, said, “George, I’m tired of fighting you and Chet. I got a car, I got a plane, but Goddamn it, I can’t keep them if I keep fighting you and Chet, ’cause I can’t prove I’m doin’ my job! So I won’t put it in the contract, but every card you show me, I’ll deduct the dues.” So we went for that for a long time.

STERLING GREEN

“Calcot tried to cheat us out of back pay.”

After the ’52 strike, Calcot tried to cheat us out of the back pay the NLRB told them to give our members. The boss offered to pay me mine, but said, “Don’t say nothin’ to the rest of ’em.” I said ”No you’re goin’ to pay all of us.” So he paid. Then he tried to fire me. “Don’t be for you,” he said, “I wouldn’t have to pay all these men their back pay. You’re fired.” And he just walked away. But I knew he couldn’t fire me, ‘cause if he did the whole union would have got in behind him. So I kept workin’. He didn’t come back, never did bring it up again.

The union was till strong after the strike. Anything come up all I had to do was tell the company I’m gonna stop the works. And the men were willing to stop. They always told me, “Green, whatever you say, we’re with you.” I know from that they was strong.

WILLIAM CHESTER

“They were ILWU body and soul”

I was the ILWU Regional Director for Northern California in 1952 when Kenneth Gatewood and George Lee asked me to look into the possibility of organizing the cotton compress industry around Fresno. They referred me to Ernest Clark and Lommy Sykes down there and we started holding meetings in their living rooms.

During the 1952 strike, Gatewood and a group from Bakersfield came up to ask for support from Fresno and the compress guys working at nearby Pinedale. That was the very beginning of the guys in the Fresno-Pinedale area looking toward affiliation with the ILWU because they saw how much fight and militancy there was in our Bakersfield unit. Fresno was then in the AFL Chemical Workers Union, but had been serviced very poorly. Pinedale had already left that organization.

At first Harry Bridges thought Fresno was an area we couldn’t hold on to, and he refused to issue a charter. Ernest Clark was the leader in demanding one, but for a couple of years Fresno was just known as the ILWU Organizing Committee. International Sect.-Treas. Lou Goldblatt, International Vice Pres. Bob Robertson, and I kept urging Harry to issue a charter. He came around. After we got it going, I prevailed upon him to drive down with me and tour the plants. On the way back, he said “That’s a fine bunch of guys. Perhaps I was wrong.” Fresno-Pinedale was chartered as Local 57 in 1957.

After Fresno got a charter, Ernest started coming to ILWU conventions. Gatewood was already coming. Harry noticed the leadership quality of these guys—they were ILWU body and soul. There had been so much of a change especially in Fresno. The change didn’t necessarily multiply in dollars and cents right away, but it multiplied in security. The guys felt for the first time that they had a union that was going to be behind ‘em so the boss couldn’t kick ’em around.

I’m very happy about the work we did. LeRoy King became Regional Director for Northern California after me in 1969 and did an excellent job of carrying on. Under his direction the union picked up a lot of additional plants in the valley.