Saturday, March 31, 2012

Working in a Sweatshop

(Continued from Tuesday . . .)
The cavernous warehouse in which I worked for eight weeks and one day in late 1971 was divided into several dimly lit rooms. In each, employees ticketed items sold at a downtown Dayton department store. The huge, echoing room in which I worked housed clothing piled on long, rectangular tables. Each table might have four or five piles of different items such as blouses, shirts, trousers, dresses, ties, underpants, handkerchiefs.
            The employees ranged in age from teenager girls to women in their sixties. These older women had worked in the warehouse much of their lives. They stood for eight hours a day on concrete with no cushioning and so had varicose veins.
            They welcomed me with open arms. During lunch break, they shared their life stories. None of them had been nuns or had the educational advantages I’d had. All of them dated or had been married or were married. Most had children. Their stories seemed to me to be filled with tragedy. They were truly poor. I had the hope of someday finding a better job. They didn’t.
            We were dissimilar in many ways. And yet we were all women—with hopes and dreams. All of us knew what being broke meant. All of us knew pain and disappointment and fatigue. And so we shared our lives with one another.
U.S. sweatshop circa 1890. 
            What the older women didn’t share was the large sewing-machine-like equipment that enabled them to ticket more articles of clothing than could be done with the handheld taggers. They could wheel these cumbersome sewing machines from one pile of clothing to another. Claiming seniority, they refused to let newcomers use the automated machines.
            Why? Because the company based its raises on how many items an employee tagged in a year. The sewing machines enabled a woman to label many more items during the day than a simple handheld tagger.
            These women had all started at minimum wage. Their wages grew slowly. That’s because only one woman a year got a raise—the woman who tagged the most clothing.
            That longed-for raise was five cents an hour—two dollars a week, minus social security, so a dollar plus some change.
             For your information: One dollar in 1971 had the same buying power as $5.67 today. Click here to discover what a person could buy for that dollar in 1971. Then you’ll see why the raise was so important.
            All the women—and I do mean all of them—worked hard. Some deftly wheeled those heavy sewing taggers from pile to pile. Their hands flashed as they lifted each item and labeled it. Others rushed from pile to pile and hand tagged. No one was a slacker. Picking up and tagging the most items each day had a reward—that year-end raise of five cents an hour.  
            The floor manager of this beehive of workers was a thin, angular young man of perhaps twenty-two. He sported a straggly mustache and stood watching all of us work industriously for eight hours each day. He wielded great power in our lives. He could take one of the large machines from anyone and wheel it to another woman to use. Thus, he could determine who had tagged the most items at the end of the year.
            Moreover, we had to ask his permission to leave the room and use the lavatory. He timed us. If we took more than five minutes, he docked items from the number we’d tagged for that day.
            I’d been using the handheld tagger for seven weeks when I decided that these women and I needed a trade union. I’d come from a union family—my father was a pipefitter—and I recognized a sweatshop when I worked in it. We slaved in a warehouse with no ventilation and no fans. I didn’t stay beyond November, so I’m not sure whether the company heated the warehouse in winter.
            I knew nothing about how a person unionized a group of workers. I wasn’t Crystal Lee Sutton. Eight years later—in 1979—her valiant efforts to unionize a shop in North Carolina would be told in the movie Norma Rae for which Sally Fields won an Oscar.  
            I had met no trade union organizer as Crystal had. I didn’t even know how to get in touch with one. I just saw injustice and knew that we needed to be part of a union that could effectively protest the working conditions. I knew that life could be better for all of us.
            On Monday of my eighth week there, I began to approach the other women in the parking lot where they stood in groups, smoking their cigarettes during the lunch break. I explained what a union could do for them. One by one, they walked away. As the week passed, however, they stayed to explain to me that they couldn’t afford to protest or go out on strike. They needed the money they earned. They warned me that anyone who complained was fired.
The 1912 textile strike in Lawrence, Massachusetts.

            On Friday of that week, the young twenty-something of a floor manager followed me as I moved from group to group. Seeing him, the other women faded away. When I stood alone, he said, “You’d best stop agitating these women. You'll get them fired. You too." 
            The following Monday, while I was ticketing socks, he escorted me to the warehouse overseer’s office. “There’s never been a union here,” the headman boasted. “There never will be. We don’t need troublemakers like you around. Get your things and get out. You’re fired.”
            That pipsqueak who’d reported my actions accompanied me to my locker and then to the warehouse door.  “I warned you,” he sneered. And so he had.
            No buses came out that far from the city, so I sat on the curb the rest of the workday. At the end of her shift, Char—the woman who’d gotten me the job—left the warehouse, and we drove home together as we’d done for the preceding eight weeks.
            “I hope you don’t get in trouble for my actions,” I said to her.
            “Don’t worry, Mr. Watson already told me that he knew it wasn’t my fault. That you’d fooled us all. He said the FBI had tried to warn him, but he wasn’t going to let the government tell him how to run his warehouse.”
            So. . . there I was in November 1971. Broke and fired.
            On Tuesday, May 1, I’ll share my next job—teaching in a black dropout center. Trust me, things went better there.

Afterword: Between now and May 1, I won’t be blogging—life has intervened, again. However, I’m going to preschedule a post for every Tuesday and Saturday in April. These edited postings will be early ones I wrote last May and June when I had only a few readers.
            I hope you’ll comment on them even though I won’t be able to respond. The thing is that at some point I hope to use my stories in a memoir. Your comments will help me know which aspects of my life interest you the most.
            Also, in your comments please let me know if there are postings of yours that you’d like me to read when I return to blogging in May. I won’t be able to read a whole month’s worth for each of the blogs I follow, but I’d love for you to direct me to the ones you most want read.

Photos from Wikipedia

54 comments:

  1. I understand the importance of unions. My dad was a longtime member of the Teamsters & my father-in-law was V.P. of the So. California chapter of the Musician's Union. Unions were necessary, but it's possible they've now gained too much power.

    Enjoy your hiatus & HAVE A HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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    1. Dear Fran, . . . it is possible that some unions have too much power now. What concerns me though is that many young people, who do not know the history of labor in our country, do not appreciate what unions have done to help the labor force. Peace.

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  2. Perhaps things went better there(the center) because occasionally you make the impossible seem possible..or that is my take from when I started reading your blog... until now.

    My parents had many friends from Italy who worked through truly horrible conditions as seamstresses upon first entering the country.

    Don't worry, I promise not to be interesting while you are gone so you won't have to catch up ;o. See you in May.

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    1. Dear Mary, . . . I think that Wikipedia photograph I posted is of seamstresses in a sweatshop. As to your postings, I'd love to read in May every April posting of every blogger I follow, but I'd never catch up! Peace.

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  3. Wow- what a story! I firmly believe we sow what we reap, and I'd love to find out what happened to the little stoolie. Good for you! You planted seeds there that I hope grew to fruition.

    We will miss you, but look forward to reading the edited postings!

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    1. Dear Shelly, . . . if you have time, please read Rita's comment below. Her life experience shows that sweatshops are still in existence. Peace.

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  4. You always stand up for those who can't do it themselves. I try to be the same kind of person, following in the footsteps of Jesus.

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. Dear Janie, . . . if you have time, please read Rita's comments below. Her life experience shows that sweatshops are alive and flourishing. Peace.

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  5. This was some story to read and I for one enjoyed it.

    Enjoy your break.

    Yvonne.

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    1. Dear Yvonne, . . . hello. If you have time, please read Rita's comment below. It shows that sweatshops still flourish. Peace.

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  6. There are still factories without unions where they have control in unfair and dangerous ways. I hurt my arm in one and that is what precipitated the downward physical spiral in my life. They would insist I do this or that (even though the doctor said I shouldn't) on threat of firing me without any workman's comp benefits if I was "uncooperative"...and, because of that, re-injured my arm four times. I had no union to complain to. I lived alone. My wrist injury turned into an arm injury over time to the point I have limited use. Much less use than I would have if they had let it heal in the first place. And this was in the 1990s! I can't imagine what it must have been like at the turn of the century!

    When you're poor you work at a lot of places where you are taken advantage of. A different job isn't always much help. There was no union and less than minimum wage for waitresses when I was waiting tables in the early 70s--and it hasn't gotten much better for them today. Most of my adult life I worked at places where I had no benefits, no vacation days, could be arbitrarily fired, and there was no union or any recourse. The poor cannot afford a lawyer. As you found out, speaking up can just get you fired. You were doing the right thing--but the right thing is not always rewarded.

    Enjoy your break. I can barely go back over blogs after just 3 or 4 days. A month! There's no way. Don't worry about it. See you in April. :):)

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    1. Dear Rita, . . . this comment that you've left here is a story for you blog story site. I wish you'd expand on it--when you have time--and tell us what all this was like for you. What a life you've had and you have so much fortitude. Peace.

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  7. When I think of sweat shops, I think of the turn of the century and maybe up to the fifties. Wow, was I wrong! It is hard to believe that this was still going on in the seventies, Dee, but here you are, affirming it was so, and I'm afraid still is. Not only abroad, but here as well. You did the right thing, in spite of the fact that you lost your job over it.

    I do hope you include these posts as part of your memoir. They are interesting and you were brave, but you also have first witness accounts to social issues which is part of our collective history.

    My grandmother worked in a sweatshop as a young immigrant at the turn of the century. I can only imagine the conditions. You are the best, Dee. An inspiration.

    See you in a month.

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    1. Dean Penny, . . . I do plan on doing a section in the memoir of working for peace and justice. It will of course start with learning from my mom.

      Like you, I truly can't imagine the conditions of those sweatshops at the turn of the 19th century. Grueling and deadening. In her comment at the beginning of these comments, Mary shared that her parents worked in sweatshops. And in the comment by Rita, above yours, I learned that she's had a lot of experience with factory work. It took away her health. If you have time, please read her comment above. Peace.

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  8. I'm glad you are writing these stories, Dee. The stirrings of inequality in the workplace and the subsequent actions people take to address these inequities always interest me. I hope you will enjoy your vacation (if that is what it is) and I will faithfully read and comment, I promise! Your blog posts are of a different sort than most I read, because they are filled with your feelings and emotional turmoil. I find them fascinating! :-)

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    1. Dear DJan, . . . thank you for your kind words. If you have time, please read Rita's comment above. We learn from it that working in a sweatshop affected her health and changed her life. Peace.

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  9. Have the happiest of birthdays Dee. I've so enjoyed your posts and ever thoughtful comments on mine..
    As you say...peace.
    Love
    Stephanie

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    1. Dear Stephanie, . . . thank you for the birthday greetings! I've so enjoyed reading about your newfound surety in the last few months. A blessing. Peace.

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  10. The trade unions have been badly pilloried over many years now. People do not realize or remember how important they are and were to the rise of middle America. Somehow the great middle classes have been convinced that the power of the unions needs to be broken and to stay broken. It makes me mad! We are being manipulated by those in whose interest it is to keep in tact what I call a modern feudal society -- it is all about keeping wealth and power in the hands of the few. Have you read 'Nickel and Dimed' by Barbara Ehrenreich?

    Happy Birthday. Good idea re-posting your early posts -- they are wonderful!

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    1. Dear Broad, I so agree with you about the pillorying and also about unions and the subsequent rise of the middle class. I can remember my brother--a union member who worked in a GM factory--saying that we'd seen the end of unions when President Reagan fired something like 12,000 air traffic controllers back in the early eighties. And things seem to have mostly gone downhill since.

      No I haven't read "Nickel and Dimed." I meant todo so when it was published and then forgot. I'll get it from the library. Thanks for suggesting it. Peace.

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  11. Dee, you make my head spin! What an experience those weeks in that environment. How did those women live without much hope for improvement?

    I remember make $1.69 an hour back then. Why I would remember such a number, I don't know.

    Take care, dear friend. If you need something, you know my number and where I am. I'll be checking your blog on Tuesday and Saturdays! God bless you richly.

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    1. Dear Susan, . . . thank you for your kind words. I wonder what $1.69 an hour would be in today's terms.. I can remember working all summer to go to college and making $600. That was $50 a week for twelve weeks. So I was making $1.25 an hour back in 1954. And I don't know how people anywhere live when life seems to hold no hope. I think they must have hope that I'm not aware of. Peace.

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  12. My aunt worked in a sweatshop doing piecework. The conditions were bad and the pay was worse. This work is still being done by American companies, now, however, they have moved there sweatshops to cross the sea. Look what Apple has been accused of doing in China. Things don't change, they just change locations.

    See you in May, till then, take good are of yourself.

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    1. Dear Arleen, . . . Yes, we learned just this past work about the the people and dangerous working conditions in the Chinese factories. People here want to pay as little as possible for their "stuff." And so they buy cheaply on the backs of the laborers around the world--and here too. Peace.

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  13. Here you were again, supporting and advocating for others, also putting yourself in harm's way! Your memoir would be so interesting when all of these events are seamed together My husband has been the Union Chairman of the United Transportation Union (Railroad Switchman) for more than 20 years. It has been a painstaking, often thankless position, but I have also seen the jobs he's saved and the benefits he's been able to protect I think are very admirable. Over twenty years he's seen the best and worst of unions, but he has been called, "An island of reason in a sea of insanity." He is balanced and wise, and we know what his craft would be like without the best of union representation. Enjoy your month, Dee. I hope your time off is for you to do what you need for yourself...and I'll be glad to reconnect again in May! Debra

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    1. Dear Debra, . . . Thank you so much for sharing this information abut your husband and his work as union chairman. Being "an island of reason in a sea of insanity" is a true tribute to him. I'd so enjoy Debra any postings you might do on unions today.
      Think about it! Peace.

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  14. Oh Dee, this sure brought back some not-so-fond memories! I worked in two such places in my young adult years. The first was part of Ma Bell, where we used these little gun type machines to attach wires to a circuit board. I got fired from there for sabotaging the machines! What I was instead was bored out of my skull, and so wasn't paying close attention to the map. We had to go so darn fast!
    The other was at Jantzen woolen mills, which I actually enjoyed. I was a born seamstress, so this piece work was actually right up my alley. My supervisor wasn't pleased that I made more money than she did (and I was 19!) because I was really fast at attaching sleeves to those ugly forest green pant suit jackets that were the rage in those days. I discovered while working there that I am allergic to the sizing in clothing. I had a constant rash on my arms for almost two years! It was a back breaking job, even for a young back, and I was happy to get married and move on! And, very pleased when my rash and itchy arms went away!
    Take care of yourself, Dee!

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    1. Dear Sandi, . . . the responses to this posting have taught me so much about all of you who have commented. So many have had some experience--either their own, like you, or their parents or grandparents--of working in places that are dangerous to health. If you have time, look above at Rita's comment to see how her health was affected by working at such places. Peace.

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  15. Amazing, the things we did and lived through. I am quite sure I wouldn't be able to do half of them now and the conditions nowadays are so much better for all of us in the Western world.

    I have always been politically motivated, even worked in a union office for years. I don't know what the condition were like in the US (or what they are like now) but union membership has made a lot of difference to a lot of people in Europe.

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    1. Dear Friko, . . . like you Friko I don't feel equal to doing so much I used to do. The mind may still want to protest but the body has no energy. And yes,I think union membership led to a middle class in the United States. Young people today don't know that. Peace.

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  16. I read your back posts and the comments – which are also so very interesting. My father-in-law tried to start unions in Ohio for teachers and was fired and placed on a black list – he could not find good work the rest of his life. My husband while going to college was a teamster union member in San Francisco so he could work while going to school. I worked in a large corporation for 26 years which was unionized so I know the benefits that it brought – even though I was not a union employee. It is sad how the Republicans are trying to kill the unions – but then many of their campaigns are paid by lobbies from the rich 1% of the population. I hope you have a nice time away and don’t fret about reading all the back posts – just do it when you can.

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    1. Dear Vagabonde, . . . I'm sorry to hear about what happened to your father. He stepped forward and that affected the rest of his life. And yes, like you, I think the Republicans are trying to kill unions. But even some Democrats don't realize their value. Peace.

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  17. The depth and breadth of your life experiences never fails to astonish me. You were absolutely put on this Earth this go-around to be a teacher and I love that you have never shirked that duty - even when you weren't formally labeled one.

    Thank you for your stories, Dee. I hope that the life that has intervened for you turns out to be a happy, healthy one. Take care.

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    1. Dear Kari, . . . thank you for your kind words. It does seem to me that I was born to be a teacher. I miss the classroom but no longer have the energy to spend a day in one. Still, I hope that my life does good for others and for the Universe. Peace.

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  18. What an interesting post about a sad time in our countries work history. In college, I worked evenings in a similar situation at a semiconductor plant, even with a young snarky boss like yours. I was the only English speaking employee so I couldn't help the other women and this was in the 70's.
    I am really enjoying your stories. So glad you are scheduling post. I am new so they will be new to me. See ya when you return.

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    1. Dear Patti, . . . thank you for sharing your experience in the 70s. I hope you enjoy the April posts. They aren't about any specific topics--just the first eight I posted when I began this blog. Peace.

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  19. What a terrible floor manager and overseer! I wonder what ever happened to them and the place they worked. I hope they eventually formed a union.

    You painted this so vividly. I'm currently read "The Miserable Mill" by Lemony Snicket. This so very much reminded me of the place he wrote about. I'm excited to find out what you'll think of that series if you read it ;) The girls have already read the first four books.

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    1. Dear Elisa, . . . the thing is that sweatshops still exist here in the United States and throughout the world. Making money can lead some employers to lose any appreciation they have for the honest laborer.

      I'll get a Lemony Snicket book and read it. So glad for the recommendation. Peace.

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  20. This is such an evocative series of blogs. Thanks so much.

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    1. Dear Susan, . . . I'm almost finished with this series on social justice. Then I have to decided what the next topic to write about will be. I look forward to reading the book you wrote, Susan. Peace.

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  21. Fascinating post, Dee! What life experiences you've had -- and how wonderful your memoir will be! I was on a women's health panel giving a presentation in Washington about teenage girls' health and it was sponsored by Johnson and Johnson, maker of Stayfree. I was the only non-physician on the panel. We got a tour of the J&J Stayfree assembly line in New Jersey. It wasn't a sweatshop, but it was a whole different way of working and, yes, they had to raise a hand for a supervisor if they had to go to the bathroom, which blew those of us in the panel away. I don't think they got docked for time spent in the loo, but who knows? I hope you're okay, Dee, and will look forward to further posts when you're ready!

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    1. Dear Kathy, . . . asking for permission to go to the bathroom always seemed to me as if I were back in the first grade! I am okay, Kathy, I just need to do some traveling so as to determine whether I'll be moving or not. Peace.

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  22. You continue to amaze me with the way you have tried to teach and lead others along your path of life, Dee. Daring to do the impossible at times.
    Hooray for you!
    Hugs,
    Pam

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    1. Dear Pam, . . . you know nothing's ever felt impossible. It's just that when I've seen something that didn't seem right to me--that showed a lack of respect for another human--I had to jump in. I think you'd do the same and probably have done so.
      Peace.

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  23. It's bizarre reading about these kinds of working conditions. I know it happened it's just weird hearing it from someone I know.

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    1. Dear Melynda, . . . the problem is that this is still happening. Hope all is well. Peace.

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  24. Another interesting bit of your story, Dee. I appreciate people sharing their memories (which can turn into memoirs), because we can relate with each other. My slightly similar experience was at a Jantzen swimsuit factory, my closest brush with a sweatshop environment. They did have fans in the summer blowing the hot air around, and you could go to the bathroom when you pleased. But trying to find a private place to use a breastpump was a challenge after my daughter was born. The women, their lives, and all their stories stay with me from that time and place. You did well, trying to make a difference where you were.

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    1. Dear Deanna, to have a comment from you is such an honor. I so admire your standing for peace each week. Thank you for sharing your "brush" with a sweatshop environment. (I think I had only a "brush" with one also.) I can imagine what the Jantzen factory was for you during that time. Those memories do stay with us. Peace.

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  25. A moving and impressive post, Dee, and it didn't surprise me one little bit that you did what you did and got fired.

    I come from a family with strong union involvement and my maternal grandfather, who was never more than a labourer, was a founder member of his union back before WW1. My father worked in a paper mill and I had holiday jobs in factories while a student, so have an inkling of how hard the life can be. Sadly and shamefully there are still secret sweatshops in the UK, staffed by illegal immigrants who are treated almost as bonded labourers / slaves by their overseers.

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  26. Dear Perpetua, . . . your maternal grandfather must have faced real opposition before WWI. That second picture shows what could happen to people who tried to unionize then. And yes, here, too, we still have secret sweatshops--especially in California--where illegal immigrants are treated like "bonded labourers/slaves." No law-abiding country should condone that. Peace.

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  27. What amazing stories you tell. I hope your life in this time away from blogging is good and satisfying and happy.

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  28. Oh Dee, I hope life treats you more kindly. I am going to read each post. Thsnk you so much.

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  29. Ah yes! Unions and their power! Guess I can post a bit on that issue too. Love what you are posting!
    I am way behind in the blog posts and reads but I do not have the discipline to pre write, edit and then post by a planned date. I'm too impulsive.
    I reply as I can.

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  30. I actually believed in the 60s and 70s that we had laws against tossing people for trying to organize. Of course, it was in the 70s and 80s that many states passed so-called "right-to-work" legislation, which is actually right-to-fire for organizing or any other reason.

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