Ruminations ---Part 3.
Wal, Hi, y’all. It took me longer than I had hoped to get back to this, so I apologize. To refresh your memories I’ll quote the last few paragraphs of Part 2:
“In Part 3, I’ll recount one instance where I used this method in a situation that all sane people would say is impossible. A large international conglomerate and two international unions were involved all at the same time. The results went beyond success. Perhaps in this manner you will be able to see why it is that the idea of taking on of a religion of 6 million people doesn’t phase me, and why I think that many of you can do the same thing. In reality, it’s easy. That’s because the leadership of the WTBTS is in many ways comparable to the Wizard of Oz.
“I have to hit the road in the morning, so it may be some time before I can get back to this as I have about 3,500 miles to drive this week. However, I’ll try my best to get it out fairly quickly.
“‘Til then, take care, and be of good courage. Things are rarely as black as they look.”
Yup, I’m back and no one died, though I did run over 7 school buses, 3 caterpillar tractors, and the Goodyear blimp (while flying, yet!), so that’s a pretty good score. (4-wheelers don’t count unless they are State Troopers, politicians, or lawyers.) Yup, not bad in less than 10,000 miles, eh, what?
Now to tell you about the situation mentioned above. As others mentioned on the first two threads, this is a form of confrontation. However, one must understand that there are many different levels of confrontation, ranging from two people bellering at each other up to full-fledged shooting wars like in Afghanistan. There is a different kind, though, but it’s rare. In that one, no one loses. This situation turned out that way.
I’d hired on as a truck driver hauling wood chips to paper mills. About an hour later, the company hired another driver too, a little petite spitfire of a girl that was somewhere in her thirties, but could pass for much younger. As tiny as she was, she could hardly get the hoods open to service the trucks, but when she was behind the controls she could make those 18-wheelers stand up on their hind wheels and dance the tango.
She was a big hit with the crew and got along with most everyone. We worked the night shift, but here in Western Oregon in the wintertime, it’s spooky even for a man to drive one of those big rigs into a mud hole out in the middle of nowhere, in the pitch black night, in the rain, load 65,000 lbs. of chips into the truck from a mammoth bin suspended above, and hope to get back out in one piece. However, she did it, and as I remember, only got stuck once. Few men did as well.
One such night I overheard her talking to another of the men on the company radio. They were speaking of family histories, and she mentioned that she had never known her father nor had a father figure to look up to. This bothered me, so the next time we happened to be in the same place at the same time, I walked up to her. “Kathy,” (not her real name) “I’d like to ask a favor of you.”
“What’s that?” She was smiling as she asked.
“Well, I couldn’t help hearing a while ago when you were talking to (the other driver) of how you had never had a father.” I hesitated, as she grew solemn. “My history is different, and I am hoping that it won’t cause any problem between us.”
“How?” She queried.
“Well, I am a father, primarily of girls, having five daughters and one son. If you were to add their ages together, I could claim over 150 years of experience of being a father to girls, and I am so used to it that I don’t know how to act any differently towards other young women such as yourself. If I act in that manner towards you, please don’t take offense.”
She was beaming by this time and assured me in most emphatic terms that she wouldn’t object to that whatsoever. She called me “Pappy” from that day onward, and for most practical purposes our relationship reflected all of the warmth, trust, and concern that a good father/daughter relationship should have. This continued for some months.
Weyerhauser Timber Corp., one of the biggest timber conglomerates in the world, owned one of the paper mills we hauled into. We usually hauled more than one load in there every night, and had come to know the dump crew fairly well. We would back the truck onto a huge hydraulic lift, unlatch the tailgate, and they would lift the entire thing up to a 45-degree angle or higher and simply dump the chips out of the back. Considering that it was a full sized truck pulling a 48 or 53 foot trailer, grossing as much as 105,000 lbs., you can imagine what an impressive sight that was.
The dump crew was all long term employees and members of the Wood Products Union, an affiliate of the A.F. of L./C.I.O. Like all closed shop hardcore union environments, outsiders were not made to feel welcome. Most of them were older and grumpy. One was a woman who looked as though she ate nails for breakfast and was known far and wide as “The Ice Maiden”. No one messed with her.
We drivers were all members of the Teamsters. These are two heavy weight unions if there ever were any.
About a month after we were hired, one of the dump crew decided that he was going to bed Kathy and pursued her with a persistency and single-mindedness that was not to be denied. She stated her position quite clearly and told him to leave her alone. He refused and pursued her even more, and began to get quite nasty about it.
I wasn’t really all that alarmed yet, as she was definitely able to take care of herself and would probably be insulted if I stepped in. Plus, as I mentioned before, she was a little spitfire and I could see that she was getting riled. I was kind of curious as to how many pieces she would make out of him.
Finally, she filed a grievance with our union, the Teamsters. This took me back a bit, as I expected more direct action first, but it certainly emphasized that Kathy meant business. She was going for the jugular right off the bat. However, this action on her part brought about a political situation that was phenomenally complicated and could impact all of us. Here’s how:
Put yourself in the Teamster’s position. One of their members was being sexually harassed by a member of another union. They couldn’t go to Weyerhauser, as they had no agreement with them, and therefore had no leverage. Weyerhauser would simply tell them to go fly a kite.
They could go to the Wood Products Union, but both unions would be in the position of defending one of their members, and neither union would want to lose face by appearing to abandon a member. This could initiate a donnybrook between them; however, both would be loath to attack another union. Their traditional enemy is management.
Therefore, the most likely thing is that the Teamsters would toss this hot potato to our trucking company and demand that they do something about it.
So that’s what happened. Now, looking at it from the trucking company’s viewpoint: This is a small company. They couldn’t go to Weyerhauser and demand that they do something, as Weyerhauser is a thousand times bigger and more powerful than they are. They’d get swatted like a fly. Going to the Wood Products Union and asking them to do something would be out of the question. They would be ignored or laughed at, and probably both.
The only thing they could possibly do is reassign Kathy in such a way that she never had to haul into Weyerhauser (an impractical thing, considering their routes), and/or bring pressure on her to back off. Both courses of action would allow the perpetrator to get off scott free, and open themselves to a lawsuit from Kathy.
Looking at it from Weyerhauser’s viewpoint, it was alarming. They have the deepest pockets. They were caught between a rock and a hard place for if they ignore the situation, Kathy could file suit against them to hold them responsible for their employee’s conduct. That could easily cost them a few millions of dollars.
On the other hand, should they fire the employee, the Woodworker’s Union was just sitting there like a big cat waiting for them. You’ve got to remember that big unions like this couldn’t care less about right and wrong when they think they can get their meat hooks into management. Right or wrong, they are going to back their guys. As a bare minimum, there would be a multimillion-dollar lawsuit, and perhaps even a strike that would shut down the whole plant. (Weyerhauser had already lost one lawsuit on another case nearly identical to this. They paid to the tune of $500,000.)
Weyerhauser’s best solution would be to fire our small trucking company, and thereby get rid of Kathy. That would put us all out of work, and again, let the perpetrator get away with it.
The Wood Product Union’s take on the matter was obvious. This was an exquisite opportunity to take Weyerhauser to the cleaners. Then again, their own ‘face’ was in jeopardy, should they abandon their member.
It looked to me like Kathy was going to be eaten alive. I just waited to see which way they were going to move. It was only fair to give them the opportunity to do the right thing before I took a hand. But my bottom line was simply this: NOBODY messes with one of my daughters.
Sure enough, the forces began to move in on Kathy. She was to be the sacrificial lamb.
Meanwhile, the situation had split the dump crew at Weyerhauser. Some were fairly outspoken in their disgust of their fellow employee’s conduct. I started with them.
One evening I was alone in the dump shack with one of those outspoken ones. I listened to what he had to say and agreed with all of it, then informed him I was taking a hand. I gave him a message to give to the union, but cautioned him to back away from both me and the situation immediately afterwards, as it was dangerous to be too close to me in times like this. Thinking I had vast delusions of grandeur, he smirked a bit, but agreed to take the message.
He was to deliver these words: That they take care of this mess right now. It they didn’t, I would, and that I guaranteed that they would not like the methods I used. That I was a writer. That the local media would be deeply interested in their toleration of sexual harassment, and that it would be quite interesting to see what kind of reaction the Promise Keepers (they were holding a convention in town that weekend) would have in this situation.
He said he would, but his skepticism was thick enough to cut with a knife.
I then called my dispatcher and told him essentially the same thing and asked him to deliver it to the owner.
The next morning I got a conference call with both the dispatcher and the owner on the line. After confirming the dispatcher’s report, the owner said with great exasperation: “Tom, will you just let me do my job?” We both knew that he couldn’t fire me, for that would guarantee my going to the papers, as well as bring in the Teamsters.
“Sure.” I shot back. “Just as long as you do it right.” I continued: “Look. It’s not as bad as it looks. I want you to use me. You call Weyerhauser and simply tell them the truth. You have a loose cannon on board, and it’s about to go off. They’re either going to get their butts in gear and take care of this problem right now or I’m going to fix their wagon but good, and there isn’t a damn thing they can do about it.” I paused and then started laughing. “Hell, there’s not a damn thing you can do about it either!”
We hung up, and I continued my regular duties and waited. Twenty-four hours later, the Wood Products Union suspended the guy for 30 days and placed him on probation for a year. In another twenty-four hours, Weyerhauser fired him altogether.
So far, so good. However, it was far from over. My trucking company was icy towards me and there were some mad enough to shoot me if they thought they could have gotten away with it. They were now at serious risk from Weyerhauser, as Weyerhauser was bent all out of shape towards them. After all, they were now wide open for suit from the Wood Products Union. However, all parties had been kicked off square one by my action and couldn’t go back. That’s what I wanted.
The Teamsters were making like a mouse and didn’t make a peep. Their concerns were satisfied. Plus, who in hell was this guy? The Wood Products Union had been broadsided from a quarter that they didn’t even know existed. Who was I? A government agent? What? Was it a monumental bluff? They needed more information.
So now we entered a stage that was about the most intriguing of all. I, naturally, carried on my duties with no change in attitude at all. While at the dump, I was just as sweet, innocent, and non-offensive as could be, saying absolutely nothing about the situation. I did see the outspoken individual one more time. He looked white as a sheet and acted as though he was in the presence of a ghost. Then he was transferred somewhere else and some others were brought in. These newcomers were not ordinary workers.
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As this is long, I'm pulling an "Englishman" and continuing it. Sorry about that. Part 'b' will be posted Sunday night.
Tom Howell
Alias: LoneWolf