Aug. 17, 1985 - Sept. 13, 1986
Commemorative edition
Herald file photo
Demonstrators blocked the main entrance to the Hormel plant, a public street and an Interstate 90 exit, with cars and bodies on the morning of April 11, 1985. Tear gas was used to disperse the crowd and 17 felony arrests were made, one being labor strategist Ray Rogers.
wenty-five years ago this of Austin at-large. What follows are reflections on pormonth, P-9 union workers at Hormel voted — by an over- tions of that history, that, while somewhelming 1,261 to 96 margin — to reject the company’s latest contract offer and go on strike. What resulted was a bitter, drawnout labor dispute that drastically impacted the community, from workers who lost jobs to families that were torn apart by picket lines. Today, those impacts can still be seen by looking at the radical changes to Austin Police move in on P-9 strikers during the 1985 Hormel’s workforce — and to the city Hormel strike.
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times painful, are a vital reminder of where this community came from. Such reminders often teach good lessons about where a community can go in the future. We in the paper’s newsroom hope that you take something away from these stories, whether that be a new piece of information, a few tears shed or a new way of looking at old wounds. Of course, discussion is encouraged and desired, and the Herald welcomes any thoughts you may have.
— NOTE: Several quotes in the following section include crude language that, despite having been partially edited, may still be ofensive to some —
‘American Dream’ still rings true today By Mike Rose • Photo by Eric Johnson
Bob Taylor, from left, Olgar Himle, Ken Dalagher and Dave King meet with others who took part in the Hormel strike twice a week at The United Support Group.
P-9 proud, 25 years later Story by Rachel Drewelow • Photos by Eric Johnson Inside the back door of a quiet and unassuming building, near the corner of 10th Street and Fourth Avenue in northeast Austin, one can still hear the rumblings of an era 25 years past. Inside these walls — tacked with newspaper clippings, vintage posters and framed photos — gray-haired men often gather, put the coffee on and talk about the past underneath a mounted white wooden sign that reads in red: “Best Workforce Hormel Ever Had.” This is the meeting place of The United Support Group — a band of defeated ‘P-9ers,’ their wives, children and supporters. These former Hormel meatpackers were among about 1,500 members of the United Food and Commercial Workers Union, Local P-9, who walked off the job in August of 1985 in response to a looming 23 percent wage cut and unfavorable working conditions. Some of the strike’s veterans and their brethren still meet twice a week to talk about labor issues of the day — refusing to forget their own fight with the same vigor that they protested shrinking pay and plant conditions 25 years ago.
NOTE: Richard Knowlton, who was Hormel’s CEO during the 1985 strike, did not respond to requests to be interviewed for an accompanying article. Requests were fielded by a Hormel Foundation administrative assistant.
P-9ers remember Richard Lee worked for Hormel for about 40 years. He retired on disability shortly after the strike and — sitting with friends in The United Support Group hall earlier this month — he rattled off a list of dangerous jobs he worked in the hog kill. Lee stood in lines pulling leaf lard out of freshly killed hogs, stripping brains from split heads, plucking shards of bone from tissue and pulling pituitary glands to reserve them on dry ice. Lee once sliced his hand — in between his thumb and index finger — clear through tendons and nerves. After six weeks off the job, he returned to have a coworker accidentally nick his arm that very first day back. “It was hard work, bloody work. You needed strong hands,”
Lee said. “But it was good pay — and if you didn’t screw it up, you had a job for life.” That was the consensus among about 10 former Hormel meatpackers who met at The United Support Group clubhouse last week — Austin meatpacking jobs meant difficult but well paid, sought after, stable work in their day. Rex Machacek worked at Hormel for almost 30 years before the strike. Because his father had worked at the plant, he was able to get a job in the business office right out of high school. “You had to know someone to get a job there. Everyone that worked around town would quit their jobs if they could get in at Hormel,” Machacek said. Machacek worked in the office for 12-and-a-half years, all the while vying to move to the packing plant where employees were unionized and the pay was better. “It was a different kind of work, and you had to take what was available,” he said, noting he worked a variety of meatpacking jobs, including flushing chitterlings.
> P-9ERS continues on 4
Barbara Kopple recently received a letter that made her stop and smile. The letter was from Megan Olsen, a 27-year-old Austin woman who had watched Kopple’s 1990 Academy Award winner “American Dream,” the documentary that chronicles the 1985 Hormel strike. Olsen wrote that she was 2 years old when her father went on strike and could remember virtually nothing about it. However, after watching the film — first by herself, then with family members — Olsen said she learned a great deal about her own history. “Without ‘American Dream,’” she wrote in her letter, “I may never have known my parents as well as I do now.” Clearly, the 20-year-old documentary has stood the test of time and today still serves as a sobering reminder of what a labor dispute can do to a community. The film follows the build-up of the strike, starting in 1984 as negotiations begin to fall apart and union workers start canvassing for support. From there, Kopple follows several different storylines as the situation develops over the coming months. There are the hard-line P-9 union workers, who push vigorously for the strike and stick with it even as Hormel brings in replacement workers. There are the company executives, who maintain that their wage offers are fair. There are those with the international meatpacking union who, despite being in favor of better labor rights for packers, don’t agree with A movie poster for the docthe tactics of the strikers umentary of the Hormel and come to an impasse strike, signed by director with the Austin Barbara Kopple, hangs in organizers. And then there the building where The are the “P-10ers,” the United Suppor t Group nickname for workers who meets. initially go on strike but succumb to the need to make money and put food on the table — at the cost of alienating themselves from friends and family still on the picket line. Through it all, Kopple said she strived not to make any one side look right or wrong, but tried to capture all sides of the story and let the viewers decide who were the good guys and bad guys. “I cared about the people in Austin, Minn., very much,” the filmmaker said of the union workers she got to know so well. “But if we were ever to look back at (the film), we had to have the full story.” Kopple’s desire to follow that story began in the early 1980s, as she became more and more engrossed with what was going on economically in the working world. At the time, meatpacking plants across the country were struggling, with many slashing wages, shutting down, or going through bitter labor situations. As this environment grew, workers in Austin started to take a critical look at a wage proposal that would have slashed pay by $2 an hour.
> DREAM continues on 3
Look inside for: A timeline of the strike — A sheriff looks back — What was it like covering the strike?
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SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2010 Hormel Strike
AUSTIN DAILY HERALD
Geo. A Hormel & Co. threatens to move meatpacking operations out of Austin. While Hormel later announced plans to build a new plant in Austin, the issue led to some concessions on behalf of the workers in a union contract. Along with giving up incentive earnings, the workers agreed not to strike for three years after the plant was built.
P-9, Hormel reflect on strike The following are statements sent by both the local P-9 and the Hormel Corporation, at the request of the Herald. The statements have only been minimally edited, and the opinions in them do not necessarily reflect those of the Herald as an organization.
HORMEL FOODS CORP. Hormel opens its new plant in Austin. The company announces plans to cut wages from $10.69 to $8.25 an hour. While the workers are angered, they can’t strike due to the 1978 agreement. Workers form Austin’s United Support Group. Workers also hire Ray Rogers and his Corporate Campaign for $200,000 to form a fundraising plan and public relations campaign for the union.
Former CEO R. L. Knowlton
P-9 begins strike. P-9 rejects a Hormel contract offer by a vote of 1,261 to 96. P-9 President Jim Guyette says protesters could be on the picket lines soon. “The result is not surprising in view of the attitude of the union over the last few months,” says Charles Nyberg, Hormel vice president and general counsel. While Nyberg said the Austin plant will be shut down in the near future, he says the company plans to have the plant operating in their long-term plan. Austin Police Chief Don Hoffman says no extra officers will be placed on duty as the strike revs up:“At this time, we do not expect any violations of the law regarding the strike situation (at the Geo. A. Hormel & Co. Saturday). If people become disorderly and unruly, an officer will take charge of the situation.”
Thirty Hormel workers take retirement under old contract. Rather than facing the strike, 30 Hormel workers of 300 eligible choose to accept a company offer to retire under their old benefits.
Hormel begins closing down plant operations with an official strike appearing likely. Hormel stops buying livestock as the company prepares the Austin plant for closure. The plant would later close. “Right now, we’re business as usual, but we’re in a shutdown mode,” says Charles Nyberg, Hormel vice president and general counsel.
P-9ers denied unemployment compensation. The P-9 union will appeal the state’s decision to not offer the striking workers unemployment benefits.
Hormel announces record earnings. Despite the strike, Hormel reports record earnings for the year and fourthquarter ending Oct. 26.
Picketers begin a series of demonstrations blocking the plant’s gates. Hormel goes to court to limit the number of picketers. P-9 members vote down mediator’s proposal to resolve the strike. With the strike four months old, P-9 leaders urge members to reject the proposal, which ultimately fails.
Three are killed in crash. Two ABC newsmen and a pilot die in a helicopter crash near Ellendale on their way to cover the Austin strike.
P-9 announces plans for roving picket plan. With the strike becoming “like a war situation,” protesters say they’ll take the fight to other Hormel plants.
Protesters organize a blockade of several hundred cars and shut down the Hormel plant. After the Hormel plant reopened peacefully, the mood quickly shifts and Gov. Rudy Perpich orders the National Guard to Austin. Sheriff Wayne Goodnature said a state of “mob rule” existed outside the plant.
After more than five months, it appears the striking workers may not get their jobs back. Replacement workers are being hired, and soon after, Hormel begins firing striking workers.
Interstate 90 ramp obstruction leads to several arrests. Ray Rogers and 25 other demonstrators are arrested for obstructing the Interstate 90 exit ramp near the Hormel plant.
Violence erupts at demonstration. After the Local P-9 and Hormel agree to restart negotiations, violence erupts at a Photo courtesy of the Mower County Historical Society demonstration outside the plant. A truck full of P-9ers and a film crew track down two men at a convenience store. The P 9-ers chase the men shouting, “There they are. They’re scabs.”The two men flee in vehicles to the law enforcement center.
Leadership with the national United Food and Commercial Workers union orders Local P-9 to end the strike. Tear gas is used to stop protesters. Seventeen people are arrested and eight police officers slightly injured when tear gas is used to stop demonstrations outside the Hormel plant.
United Food and Commercial Workers gains control of local union. A judge denies a P-9 restraining order and gives UFCW control of Local 9. UFCW had previously called for the P-9 to end the strike. The relationship between the P-9 and UFCW became bitter and tense as some union leaders felt the strike would hurt union membership, especially because Austin workers were paid better than some other union workers.
Julie H. Craven
Vice President of corporate communications, Hormel Foods Corp.
UNITED SUPPORT GROUP, P-9
After 97 years of operation, hog slaughtering at the Austin plant is suspended due to the strike.
Hormel Plant re-opens peacefully. However, the mood would change quickly. In the following days, local P-9ers begin to taunt potential replacements by shouting “scabs.”
As part of its 119-year history, the events of 1985 played a role in shaping Hormel Foods into what it is today. We provide our employees with competitive wages and benefits for the jobs they do everyday. At Hormel Foods, we produce and market consumer-branded products that are among the best known and trusted in the food industry. Maintaining this reputation is the result of upholding our founder’s values for innovation, high quality and continuous improvement.
After a month in Austin, the National Guard leaves.
After the National Guard leaves, 115 demonstrators are arrested outside Hormel’s plant.
The Rev. Jesse Jackson visits Austin as a mediator. When he lands at Austin Municipal Airport, he is greeted by a large crowd of P9ers and gives an impromptu sermon from the roof of a car. Along with meeting Local P-9 representatives, Jackson plans to meet with Hormel officials and all sides involved:“If I can gain the confidence of all parties involved and be a facilitator ... that would be a good role,” Jackson says. Jackson’s visit caps a week where an estimated 5,000 people come to Austin in support of the local P-9.
George and Jay Hormel weren’t greedy men. They grew a profitable meat processing business and they shared the profit with their workers through guaranteed annual wage, production and in incentive pay. They prospered, the workers made decent wages and the community of Austin was the envy of Minnesota and the country. In the 1980s, new management with new ideas brought union-busting lawyers from Wisconsin two years before the strike to develop a plan to take away from the workers, give huge salaries and benefits to the CEO, and devastate the community of Austin. “If a town leaves behind a portion of its citizens, it will never be a community,” — Dr. Jack McConnel. Hormel started by taking money from the workers to build a new plant. “If you don’t, we’re leaving town,” they threatened. (The workers) were also promised they would never make less in the new plant then they did in the old one, but when they transferred to the new plant, their incentive pay was lost and they immediately started making less. Before their contract came up in the mid-1980s, Hormel cut their wages by 23 percent and made workers pay back any medical coverage that had already been paid to them that year, this company that was very profitable needed to cut wages to be more profitable. (The company was) able to do this with the help from the UFCW International Union. The UFCW had left out some language in their last contract and made a “sweatheart deal” with the company to bring wages and benefits down. Joe Hansen, UFCW said, “When Guyette talks about this solidarity s**t it makes me want to puke.” Seeing they would get no help from the International Union, (the local P9) hired Ray Rogers of Corporate Campaign Inc. He brought inventive ideas that built a coalition of labor support from unions across the country and the world. This built support for the strikers and helped to feed families (Adopt-A-Family). P-9 may have lost the strike, but Austin lost the war. Pete Winkels, P-9 business manager, said it best in a People’s Forum article in the Herald: “I take no joy in continuing with this strike. I look with sorrow at the atmosphere that engulfs our community. It has been with a lump in my throat that I have told people across the country not to buy the products that my family and friends and I had so much pride in making at one time. However, we are left without a choice, for who will remember the cries of the children if this is forgotten? Where will the pride that used to exist by working at George A. Hormel Co. come from? We the union want to work. We want a fair and just contract and we want our community to grow and prosper. Until you, Mr. Knowlton, and the other directors understand this, we shall have to continue our struggle, forever if necessary.” Judy Himle The United Support Group
United Food and Commercial Workers Union evicts the P-9 from the Austin Labor Center. Striking P-9ers are now essentially on their own without financial or organizational support. The UFCW begins working to resolve the strike.
Union Leaders with the United Food and Commercial Workers meet in Des Moines, Iowa, to discuss the details of a contract as they near an agreement. A tentative contract deal is announced that would bring Hormel’s wages back to $10.70 by 1988.
A little more than a year after P-9ers vote to strike, the dispute is declared over. Thirteen P-9 groups — including striking workers and those who returned to the plant — vote to accept the tentative contract agreement by a vote of 1,060 to 440. A portion of the workers return to work, but many are left on a callback list because many positions had been filled by replacement workers.
Herald file photo —All photos, unless noted, are Herald file photos, courtesy of the Mower County Historical Society
A pair of strikers look out at police during the Hormel Strike of 1985.
AUSTIN DAILY HERALD
Hormel Strike SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2010
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A view from the strike’s front lines By Josh Moniz Photo by Eric Johnson On Aug. 2, the Herald sat down with Lee Bonorden, who covered the strike for the paper in the mid-1980s. Now retired, Bonorden reflected on a tumultuous time, both in his community and in his career. Q. How far along in your career were you when you began covering the strike? A. It happened in 1985 and I was the divorced parent of a daughter and son. We moved here to Austin to take a job. At that time, I was 40 years old and I had been writing or reporting full-time since 1969. I was maybe at the midpoint of the career I held. I retired a year ago and that was the 40th anniversary of being a reporter, so I had been around the block. Q. Before the strike, not many in the region may have known a whole lot about Austin. How did you see the community of Austin change as the strike began to evolve? A. When I came here in 1985, things were happening. It was an evolving situation going on. I think the first thing that I noticed was, and forgive me for understating the problem, ‘this was serious.’ I had never reported or been in a community where there was a labor dispute before. Very quickly you learned there were bars where company executives went — Tolly’s Time Out was their favorite watering hole — and there were bars where militant strikers went like Lefty’s and the so called eastside bars. Quickly enough, you saw it even in church. I went to a church called Grace Lutheran and we had several police officers and deputies that went there, five or six that I remember, and very quickly it was like the Amish. The cops sat on one side of the church and the militant strikers sat on the other side. They wouldn’t speak. And this was when they were only talking about walking off the job or going on strike. That also meant family members, brothers, who had divisive views who wanted to keep their job and those who wanted to keep striker solidarity. Q. Word of the strike began to get serious in 1984. Where were you when you first learned the strike of 1985 was set to begin? Pardon my crusty speak, but I was a virgin who got defrocked very quickly. Before coming to Austin, I didn’t know anything about the history of this labor dispute going on here.It was quite a long history,it didn’t happen overnight. It was all new to me and I was very naive. At this point in my career, I was this frenetic single parent just trying to get a job, pay the bills and keep the family afloat. As a reporter, I enjoyed more so covering people rather than issues. Feature stories and stories about events, rather than deep-seated issues. So when I came to Austin, I got with it in a hurry. It’s (due) to my own naivety that I didn’t inquire if there were any issues to be aware of here.The event sounded exciting and as a journalist I thought I could keep myself apart from that. A.You have said that the Herald was labeled as a Hormel sympathizer. Why do you feel the people of Austin felt this way? Nine out of 10 historians could tell you that Austin was a meatpacking town and a bastion of labor. There truly was a rich history of first George A. Hormel, and then his son Jay, creating contracts and working conditions that made meatpacking a premier job here. It wasn’t at all like Sinclair’s “The Jungle.” It’s a terrible job to slice open a pig’s innards and make sausage and bacon and so on. But, they had the best working conditions and the best benefits of anybody. In the ‘50s, according to others who were here then, you would find more
new cars and pickup trucks outside the plant than you would across the freeway at the corporate offices. The plant workers were paid far better than the managers of the companies. The plant workers were building new homes, they were driving the economy, they were spending the money locally. So, there was a rich history that this was a very strong labor town. Other places had stuff going on, but this was the place in the Midwest where people wanted to come to work because of the benefits and the working conditions here. So, labor was king here in Austin. This made the issue bring up very passionate feelings.After all,the job is about blood and guts and you work very hard while doing dangerous work with sharp knives. To this day, you can find old-timers with missing fingers or thumbs, so there is a lot of danger inherent to the work here. So, the union element wasn’t about to be criticized. Its members worked hard,sacrificed hard and they drove the economy of Austin. So, to see in print criticism of the union being too demanding was too much. To find something to criticize about the union was just unheard of. The union was Mother Teresa, Abe Lincoln and the Lord and Savior all rolled into one. So, they thought‘how dare you criticize this element?’ Around that time,things were changing nationally.The unions were losing their power. Already the Tyson chicken empire was importing immigrant labor and paying them less than its regular workers. So, the Herald didn’t have any marching orders that we were going to discredit the union.We simply tried ... earnestly to provide a fair balance of what was considered pro-company news and what was considered pro-union news. In the union, there was more passion than in the suits at the office. They would march into the Herald offices and confront you face to face, demanding a more friendly reporting of union activities and a less friendly reporting of the company here. Among the dissidents and militant unions, we became known as the “Hormel Herald” simply for trying to print balanced news. Q. How did that impact your experience reporting on the strike? People involved in the strike became very passionate about their side of the issue. Did you ever feel your job put you in danger? A. Occasionally the hair would stand up on the back of your neck.I’m not a hero,but they shout at you,“You mother-f***ing, ass-kissing journalist. If you don’t change the way you report, we’ll break your legs.” I didn’t face the dangers the so-called scabs faced going back to work, but there were street corner confrontations. I tried to disconnect myself from what I would report. But, I think it made me open my eyes and be aware that every word that I wrote would be scrutinized. It takes pretty big cajones to go cover a union rally when they’re saying,“Hey, there goes Lee Bonorden of the Hormel Herald. He’ll screw it up. He’ll not tell the truth.” It was intimidation. Nobody ever threw a punch at me or wrote “scab” on my front lawn, but there was the threat that they would. Leaving your kids at home also felt like a risk, but what could you do? Bring them along in their pajamas when you covered the story in the morning? Q.You were a reporter living in a small community, covering a large issue. Did your coverage of the event ever cross over into your personal life? A. There were people whose houses got shot at. There were Molotov cocktails thrown at homes. There were lawns that by night people would write “scab” on.They made devices that would flatten your tires
Lee Bonorden was down at the strike every day, covering the event firsthand for the Austin Daily Herald.
“I think the first thing that I noticed was, and forgive me for understating the problem, ‘this was serious.’” -Lee Bonorden Former ADH reporter
better than nails. At home, there were a few threatening phone calls. Nowadays, I laugh at it but at the time it was exciting. The kids at the time would rush to answer the phone, and they would say it was for me. I would take the phone and hear,“You mother-f***ing journalist, I’m gonna break your legs.” I would slam down the phone and get angry at the kids. I would say, “Don’t answer those calls here, you don’t have to listen to that kind of stuff.” They would say it was just someone nicely asking if Lee Bonorden was there.So,it was kind of like fair fighting. Don’t take it out on the reporter’s kids, but he was fair game. I didn’t frequent the eastside bars where the unions hung out.You would end up looking at people a different way. Q. This was a large issue in Austin and the surrounding area with a lot of intense moments. What would you consider the highlights of your strike coverage? A. There was the time when (the Rev.) Jesse Jackson came to town. Jesse was running for office at the time, let us be truthful about that. So you had to separate bulls**t from fact to determine what he was doing here. He prayed for the people that were arrested, and I think he was arrested too at one point. He was a celebrity. The Rainbow Coalition was his platform at the time he was here. The character we have not mentioned, a man by the name of Ray Rogers, was hired by the union to conduct its Corporate Campaign. There were rallies at the high school here that were held by the union, by Rogers. There was the riot, with the National Guard and the tear gas, which was pretty exciting. There was a lot going on then. ... Q. Was there any aspect about the strike that most people weren’t aware of? A. There was an aspect to the strike, in the form of blood, sweat and tears, that there were people that suffered. People who held onto those opinions that they were right and that the other side was wrong, and that things were going to change forever. And what they didn’t know was how far they would change and that things were out of control. That they had no control over those changes. The strike changed people’s lives forever and it would change the union forever. There would be no union as it once was anymore. Right or wrong, we have been a part of the much larger change occurring in the United States involv-
ing unions and immigration. Q. A lot happened during the Hormel Strike of 1985 — Reagan was running for president and unions across the country seemed to be losing ground. Do you think these bigger-picture events affected the strike in Austin? A. Something definitely happened out there. This wasn’t just a dispute between workers and their employers. This was a nation taking sides. It would really be maybe a disservice to try to describe all the sides. Q. How did you see Hormel and P-9’s approach to the strike change over time? A. The strike never captured the national imagination like the “The Jungle” did because the safety at the plants have improved so much. I think the strike was so intense because the factory was founded by George Hormel and Jay Hormel, who encouraged the ideas that the worker came first, that we would take care of our workers and that we were feeding the nation, so we would protect them and provide a safe working environment. With how the company changed, I think Hormel at first was in disbelief that the strike would happen. The union put money in escrow to build the plant in Austin. It showed they wanted to keep their jobs. Then the strike happens and I think the union membership felt that it was going to get the good contacts and benefits it thought it was going to get there. I think Hormel looked on the strikers with benign neglect, like they were thinking, “Oh, these foolish people. They don’t know what they are doing and they will cave in real soon and it will all be over.” But it wasn’t. Ray Rogers’ campaign went all over, from coast to coast. That must have surprised the company that they would have that kind of battle on so many different fronts. The thing I never really understood is that the international union leadership discredited the local P9ers. Through legal work, they removed the militants from office. They physically removed them and replaced them with “yes” men. That was like cutting off the head of the beast to get rid of the militants. Soon after, the rank and file capitulated and gave up. With regards to the union, I think the rank and file of the meatpacker’s union placed their trust in Ray Rogers and paid him an enormous sum of money to conduct his Corporate Campaign, so that he could stage strikes in front of all the different plants. For whatever reasons, that backfired. In the end, there were factions in the union that felt they were betrayed by Ray Rogers. They felt he
had screwed them, they were foolish to have placed their trust in him, to give him all this money and by doing so we bankrupted our treasury here. So, they felt they had no money left to stage a strike of any sort. So I feel by a chain of events, P-9 unraveled itself. I think the rank and file forgave (local union president) Jim Guyette and never really blamed him because he was a local boy while Ray Rogers was this outsider that came to town. I think Rogers was a guy that brought a good idea to town that turned out to be a bad idea and he paid dearly for it. Q. Talking about the strike is still a sensitive issue for many people in the area. How do you the think the community as a whole now reflects on the whole situation? A. I have a good example. I spoke with my friend who is a meatpacker who works seven days a week on the SPAM line. I told him a reporter from the Herald was going to come and ask me questions about the strike. I asked him and he said,“Nowadays,it’s so far back and the stars of it are so much older that time blocks out some of the nitty-gritty details. Plus, the new Hispanic workforce thinks ‘who the hell cares’ because it’s an event that took place 25 years ago and you’re just here to work.”(I) think the strike has waned in its power and emotion. I’m sure the old guard would think it’s behind them and wonder why you would want to bring that up. There might be a few ornery people that are still mad at each other, but generally the clans have mellowed throughout the years.Time heals all or most wounds. Also, Hormel has changed in my 25 years here.When I came to town, it was meatpacker, it was a meat processor. Now it’s a total food processor. The company has such a brilliant plan to diversify and buy all these subsidiaries while holding on to the core products. It’s been a perfect strategy for this era. It would be an insult to call it a meatpacker now. Q. Do you feel you walked away from the strike a more experienced reporter? A. Definitely. How we reported back then may have been different and looser than what we do today, but I still learned to do the basic 9 o’clock listen to how many strikers the police arrested last night, then 11 o’clock listen to Guyette say how many strikers the police brutalized last night and when the National Guard was here,they had a lower officer give a brief report. It makes any reporter work harder to verify the facts.The whole experience made me a better reporter. It made this individual better appreciate people and the passion they hold for certain issues in their lifetime. The one thing I really treasure about the strike is I got to talk with everyone involved on both sides. Any reporter would appreciate that you could talk to people.
Dream: ‘We had to get to the heart of economic problems’ From Page 1 Kopple said she was in her car driving around Worthington, Minn., — where she had gone to begin work on a film looking at plant closings in the Midwest — when she heard something on the radio about the situation in Austin. That’s when Kopple turned west toward Austin and “American Dream” got its roots. “That was the beginning,” Kopple said. “And I never left.” Settling into a motel in Austin, Kopple and a small, rotating crew of camera operators began working on the documentary. She said the budget for the film was tight and penny-pinching was the norm, though Kopple worked hard to bring in outside funding, at one time even landing $25,000 from the Boss himself, Bruce Springsteen.
“I just burst into tears,” Kopple said of how she reacted when she got the news. With a little funding in place, Kopple and crew became entrenched in the community and the developing labor dispute. Striving to tell all sides, Kopple said she worked hard to gain trust from the various players in the story. However, some were more open than others — the filmmaker said strike organizers seemed happy to have a camera crew around to capture their stories, while Hormel executives were often only approachable at board meetings. Still, Kopple’s access was impressive. She filmed a number of scenes inside the labor center, at union board meetings, at the homes of families affected by the strike and within the Hormel plant
itself. Perhaps most memorable of the film’s scenes, however, were those shot before sunrise during the frigid Minnesota winter. In them, Kopple captured the most ardent of strikers, their breath clearly visible in the air, bundled up and picketing in front of the plant as the early morning shifts arrived. In some instances, those arriving were the same workers who were on strike before, which drew the ire of picketers. Often, these confrontations were ugly, with friends and family turning on each other. Kopple said it was impossible for her not to be touched by the humanity of the situation. Even harder for the filmmaker to take was the film’s conclusion, which chronicles the many strikers who ultimately lost their regular jobs because Hormel
essentially moved on without them. “Oh, of course (I felt for them),” Kopple said. “These were people I had gone every step of the way with.” As the dust settled, Kopple left Austin and returned to her native New York. When the movie was released in 1990, it was shown at a film festival there. However, a big test for Kopple came soon after that, as she returned to Austin for a showing. With the Austin High School auditorium — now named after Richard Knowlton, Hormel’s CEO during the strike — packed, Kopple said the movie played to a mostly silent crowd, which at first worried the filmmaker. However, when the final credits rolled and the lights came on, those assembled stood up in unison and cheered. “I think they were
clapping for their pride,” Kopple said. Twenty years later, Kopple said she thinks the movie still has a lot to teach people about organized labor and communities, although she said specific messages are up for viewers to discern for themselves. Asked if she has thought about following up on “American Dream,” the filmmaker said she really hasn’t, adding that she’s not sure if it’s something the Austin community of today would want to be involved with. That means that, for now, “American Dream” will stand alone — which is quite all right by Kopple. “It was a time in America that we had to get to the heart of economic problems,” the filmmaker said. “I think it’s a film that captured the history of that time.”
4
SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2010 Hormel Strike
AUSTIN DAILY HERALD
Former sheriff remembers time in the middle By Trisha Marczak For former Mower County Sheriff Wayne Goodnature, the Hormel strike of 1985 represents more than a labor dispute — it represents a climactic period of time in his life-long career in law enforcement. Immersed in a month-long national FBI training school hundreds of miles away, Goodnature’s dreams were cut short in January of 1985 when he received word from the Mower County Sheriff ’s Office that situations surrounding the Hormel strike had gotten ugly. “It got quite intense around that time,” Goodnature said. “It was always rumbling, but it started to explode while I was out there.” The mayor at the time, Tom Kough, was rumored to have plans to exercise his authority over local law enforcement departments and order police off the front strike lines. The only other person in a position to overrule the mayor was Goodnature. When Goodnature returned home, there was trouble. With strike-related politics in play in nearly every sector of the city, Goodnature resumed his post to assert authority over local law enforcement and make a statement to those who sought to exert power in his domain. “He was going to sort of try to put a coup together and keep the police from doing that,” Goodnature said of Kough’s supposed plans. “He worked there (Hormel) and was a part of the whole thing. The sheriff is the chief law enforcement officer in the county — no one had that authority.” As it turned out, Kough never did attempt to order police officers off the front line. According to Goodnature, the presence of the sheriff in town was enough to cause Kough to back down. “I just think coming back helped,” Goodnature said in a phone interview with the Herald from his home in Arizona. It also may have helped that Goodnature was known for standing firm in his role as sheriff. “I was a very strong sheriff and very, very adamant about doing my job and doing it correctly,” he said. “I didn’t take any prisoners.” Goodnature did return to Virginia to attempt to finish the FBI training program, but was once again called back due to the escalating situation in Austin. The strike, carried out by the P-9 union, created a scenario in which more than
was admitted to the prison, where he met many union strikers and one very special 12 year-old girl: Susan Goodnature. “She was very charming,” Goodnature said of his daughter.” She literally charmed the pants off him. She was very verbal and very social.” It was Susan who led Jackson from the entrance, down the hall and to the jail cells, where he met with strikers. “Off they went down the hallway — the two of them went holding hands,” Goodnature said. “I have always remembered that as a very great event.”
After the strike
Herald file photo
A protester leans forward to shout at authorities during the Hormel strike. 1,000 workers walked off the job — and they weren’t happy. While Goodnature was away, Garry Ellingson, chief deputy at the time of the strike, was Goodnature’s eyes and ears on the ground. “I kept a low profile and did what we had to do,” Ellingson said. The struggles for Ellingson weren’t all that different from those that confronted Goodnature. Living in a closeknit community that was in the midst of a rather tumultuous battle was difficult enough for most. Enforcing the law, which meant dealing with friends and neighbors on both sides of the strike, was not always a popular position to be in. “I had a neighbor who had threatened me,” Ellingson said. “I told him if he continued, he’d be incarcerated.” The conflict, violence and propensity for disaster surrounding the strike necessitated the presence of the National Guard, ordered in by Gov. Rudy Perpich. At that time, Hormel had hired replacement workers, causing the emotions of those on the picket lines to escalate. At one time, Goodnature recalls there were more than 1,000 troops on the ground in Austin — that included National Guard members, law enforcement officials from around the state, and the local police and sheriff ’s departments. “There were literally hundreds of folks who we really had never worked with,” he said. “It was
exemplary the way everyone handled themselves. I think everybody realized the whole nation was watching us. In the end, I think everybody did a great job.” That doesn’t mean officers didn’t deal with struggles that stretched them beyond their daily expectations. Goodnature recalls an incident when acid was thrown on officers, which, for law enforcement officials, changed the game. Those who were suspected of throwing the acid weren’t Austin residents, but sympathizers who traveled to the area to join demonstrations, Goodnature said. “There was an out-of-area group that was down there that threw acid on our guys once. We were all on edge that something beyond our control was going to take place,” he said. “There was so much anger and resentment that, to this day, I’m astounded that there weren’t some real situations involving our people.” Goodnature, who was in charge of the department’s budget at the time, said the amount of overtime required was unlike anything he had ever experienced. At any given time, at least 100 people filled the jail — a facility only equipped to handle 30 or 40 people. “We had constant contact with the Department of Corrections — we always had more people in jail than we could handle,” Ellingson said. Mass arrests were a common occurrence, most
commonly for civil disobedience. An Austin native, Goodnature wound up face-toface in the jail with people involved in the strike who were imprisoned. “The strikers behaved quite well, usually, when we had to arrest them — at least as well as could be expected,” he said.
A lighter side Though the strike generally fills Goodnature’s mind with images of chaos, he’s also managed to tuck away some memories that, to this day, bring a smile to his face. During the height of the conflict, the Rev. Jesse Jackson made a trip to Austin to address the union. Along with a public address, Jackson also sought admittance to the jail, where he would have the chance to meet with the strikers in prison. “I don’t remember how many I had in, but it was a lot,” Goodnature said. “I’m sure it was for media flash — he tried to maximize his media coverage. Things were getting really, really intense on the line, officers were down and I think all of us were very fearful that something terrible was going to happen, so I made a deal with him.” The deal involved Jackson devoting a portion of his speech to explain to union members that law enforcement officials weren’t the enemies — that they were union members, too, just trying to do their jobs. After the terms of the agreement were met, Jackson
All together, Goodnature served four terms as Mower County Sheriff. While one may think that the campaign following the strike would have been a tough one for local politicians, with strong feelings on both sides of the issue, Goodnature walked away from his post-strike election with the largest margin of victory of his four elections. “I had always had a lot of competition, so I think when the smoke cleared, most people saw the job that law enforcement had done as just being really extraordinary,” he said. In the end, officers walked away seemingly unharmed — a tremendous accomplishment, Goodnature said. “There were unbelievable situations,” he said. “In the end, nobody got hurt and we didn’t get sued.” There was also a tremendous feeling of relief for those who worked through the strike. “I was worked over 20 hours a day,” Ellingson said. “I was tired.” The same went for Goodnature, who could once again resume business as usual in the county. “I was elated,” he said. “It was nice when it started to settle down, but it was still really tragic.” In the end, most people didn’t walk away with a sense of satisfaction. Sure, there may have been relief, especially for those who lived in the Austin community, but, to this day, Ellingson said the effects of the strike in Austin can still be felt. “It was a difficult situation — no one really wins in a strike,” Ellingson said. “There are always hard feelings, even years down the road. I still hear rumblings about it now.”
P-9ers: ‘Our sisters and our brothers will not forget’ From Page 1 Though the work could be unpleasant, said Olgar Himle, who worked at Hormel for 38 years in dry sausage, it was a mutually beneficial for the employees and the company. Himle characterized the majority of his career with Hormel as symbiotic — the company took care of its workers, and in turn, the workers took pride in the wellbeing of the company. “Jay C. Hormel was for the working person,” Himle said, citing the Annual Wage Plan that the son of the company’s founder, George A. Hormel, implemented more than 50 years before the strike. Under this plan, employees were paid weekly — while their hours fluctuated according to need — and they were guaranteed 52 weeks’ notice before termination of employment. The plan — along with profit sharing, merit pay, a pension plan and a joint earnings plan — had been introduced by Jay C. Hormel following a three-day labor strike in the 1930s. That began changing in the 1970s and 1980s. “When we moved to the new plant (1982), it was like working for a different company,” Himle said. “I used to say they must have been bringing a load of dirt out to Jay C. Hormel’s grave every week, because he must have been spinning.”
The strike according to United Support Group According to a number of active United Support Group members, the actions of Hormel in the late 1970s and 1980s were nothing but a
strategized union-busting campaign. Ken Dalagher, who worked as a scale mechanic at Hormel for 38 years, said he began to see the union challenged when he — with his 30-some years of seniority — was told he must use his vacation time in the winter months. The downfall started, many members argued, when Hormel hired a legal team and asked its workers to give up their incentive earnings so that a new plant could be built. The workers complied, and agreed not to strike for three years after the plant was built, in good faith that they would be paid back and the new plant would be beneficial to the future of the company — and thus the workers, said Judy Himle, Olgar’s wife. When the new plant opened in 1982, staffing and safety features were not acceptable to many workers and when Hormel announced wage cuts the workers began their campaign. Ardel Gorman, who spent years working in a Hormel grinding room and dry sausage department, was in the midst of a three-year apprenticeship in the meatpacking shop when contract negotiations with the Local P-9 collapsed in 1985. Gorman said he never fathomed that after he walked out of Hormel that August day he would never go back. He and other members of The United Support Group said that they never imagined the strike would play out as it did — with Hormel bringing in replacement workers, the Local 9 self-destructing as workers crossed the picket line and ultimately with strikers being annexed by
Buttons made and worn by the P-9 strikers adorn a section of the wall where The United Support Group meets twice a week. their larger international union. More than that, the strikers were not prepared to wait for years on a callback list after the strike was called off because their jobs had been filled. “Where have you seen that in history — that you had to wait a year, two years, three to go back to work after a strike?” said Gorman, who was offered his job back — minus the time he logged as an apprentice — six years after the strike. Gorman, who made ends meet in the interim while his wife worked as a nurse and he a welder, could not bring himself to go back to the plant. Bob Taylor, who had worked in the hog cut for almost 30 years, had three of his five children out of his home — which he had just paid off — at the time of the walk-out. He explained: “I didn’t know it’d be the end. I got a job at Fleet Farm in Rochester ... But we’re still proud of what we did.”
Still P-9 Proud This Saturday, The United
Support Group will hold a 25th anniversary commemoration titled “Still P9 Proud” at the American Legion Post No. 1216, featuring speakers, music and dinner. Judy Himle said that though many community members continue to ask them to give up the ghost, they will not forget what they stood for. In fact, many women of The United Support Group continue to support other labor movements. Carol King, whose husband Dave worked as a Hormel machinist for 37 years, said part of the reason The United Support Group is holding the event is to continue to back the strikers so many years later. “I’ve always felt the support group saved a lot of people — there were divorces, depression ... and we were just all there for each other and we still are,” said King, who sold her family’s custom-built home during the strike and borrowed $20,000 from their savings to help put their daughter through medical school. Pete Rachleff, a labor activist and historian who was elected chairperson of the Twin Cities P-9 Support Committee during the strike, will speak Saturday about the future of labor issues, and what can be learned from the strike. “The strike happened at a critical historical moment in the 1980s,” Rachleff said in an interview Tuesday. “Labor relations were changing, not just at Hormel or in Austin, but the economic values that were held since World War II into the 70s were shifting nationwide.” Ray Rogers, public
“STILL P-9 PROUD” When: Aug. 21, starting at 2 p.m. Dinner served at 6 p.m. Where: American Legion, 809 12th St. SW Details: Music provided by Larry Long and others. Speakers are Jim Guyette, Ray Rogers, Pete Rachleff and Pete Winkles. RSVP to Ian Hoffman at (917) 369-0482 or P9Proud@gmail.com relations campaign manager during the strike, will also speak Saturday. “This is the 25th anniversary, from my perspective, of a war ... that won the hearts and minds of millions of people. Maybe not as much locally ... but in the Twin Cities and nationally, people came together and sent food and money to these families who were without work,” Rogers said Tuesday. Rogers said he will talk a bit about a divisive culture that some say has plagued Austin since the strike — meaning both the severed ties between those on both sides of the strike, as well as the distance between longtime Austin residents and new immigrant workers. “The real adversary is not each other,” Rogers said, “ … The real adversary is corporate greed.” Members of The United Support Group said that division was recently evidenced by community members suggesting that a strike anniversary event should not be held, that the town needs to move on. “We will not forget. Our kids will not forget. Our sisters and our brothers will not forget,” Gorman said, as he left the The United Support Group clubhouse.