This is the second half of the account of the confrontation with Weyerhauser, two unions, and myself. I'm posting this in order to emphasize that even though we may be small, or size is not a factor in taking on the WTBTS.
Here's the second half:
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.
The atmosphere changed completely and instantly. Where once it was cold and standoffish, it was now one of intense interest that they tried mightily to camouflage, at least in most cases. Yet they needed to know more, so various probes were made. The Ice Maiden started it. I’d brought in my load and was entering the information into the computer. About half way through, she walked by and ‘accidentally’ bumped me, ‘accidentally’ hitting the cancel button at the same time. Of course, everyone was watching me like a hawk and grinning from ear to ear.
I was in my innocent, wide-eyed, country boy mode and just laughed and reentered the information, exchanged a few pleasantries, and left for another load.
Upon returning there were a couple of them that had a lull in their duties, and were playing a game of hangman on another computer. One looked at me with an eyebrow raised in challenge. “Want to try this?”
“Sure,” I grinned, still in character. Try as they could, they couldn’t hang me. All during this time, one of the men that had been transferred into the crew was sitting over on one side looking for all the world like he was half-asleep. He was older and quiet. One look at his eyes, and I knew exactly what he was there for. I decided to play this situation for all it was worth.
The next night the probing got more serious. One of the individuals that had been playing hangman the previous night became quite friendly. He came to me with something a friend had written and wanted to know what I thought of it. It was slightly seditious toward Weyerhauser and must have taken some courage to write. Looking it over, I commented that the man certainly had a way with words, but carefully didn’t comment on the subject matter except in a neutral way.
But it was the opening that I sought. They wanted information? Sure, no problem!
I mentioned that I did a little writing on the side too, and that I was working on a book exposing the horrible working conditions that were foisted off on the truck drivers. The “Ice Maiden” took an especial interest in that, as it turned out she had always dreamed of being a writer and had even taken many courses in writing. I asked if she would be interested in seeing some of the book and she eagerly accepted. This was all on the level, and my explanation that I needed someone to look it over and give me some input was genuine.
During the next week I brought it in a chapter at a time. This material is very much the down and dirty nitty-gritty, and would answer the types of questions they would have.
She was simply delighted by my work and gave me some valuable constructive criticism. The relationship grew warm.
Meanwhile, I was keeping an eye on “Sleepy”. As she had passed the chapters around, he had his chance to read them too. After the first chapter, I caught an air of mild surprise about him. After the second, deep interest and amusement. But by the forth, it was boredom. It was obvious that he had his answers, and I knew what they were: a. Was I really a writer? --- Yes. b. Was it a bluff? --- No.
He transferred back out of the unit about a week later.
Kathy came to me about this time. She’s learned that the Wood Products Union was indeed bringing suit against Weyerhauser. Of course, that was no skin off my nose if Weyerhauser got cleaned, but I didn’t like it for many reasons, including the fact that they wouldn’t be in that fix if I hadn’t interfered. They might be a giant corporation and have scads of money, but that mattered little. Right is right and wrong is wrong. Then again, Weyerhauser would still be inclined to take out their frustration on the little trucking company that I was working for.
Worse, though, it appeared that Kathy herself would be included as a defendant. The offender was doing everything he could to blacken her name. That riled me. But the question before the house, of course, is how does one individual take on an international union by himself and hope to prevail? I needed a “handle”, but where to find it?
Actually, it takes more time to write about it than it took to find it. It was the dump crew itself. They were already polarized, with most of them indignant towards the sexual offender. The union would ignore me, but they could hardly ignore their own rank and file. That’s the source of their power. I needed to do something that would galvanize that crew into taking a stand.
I sat down and wrote a two-page open letter to the dump crew. It had to be a letter that was extremely blunt, and yet fair. It needed to appeal to the intellect, yet bypass it at the same time and drive to a man’s basic gut instinct. It had to be powerful to the nth degree. (I’ll post it under another heading, “The Open Letter”.)
Then again, I realized that HOW it was delivered was every bit as important as WHAT was delivered. I knew better than to deliver it directly to the union in an ‘official’ manner. When it’s delivered that way, then everyone will be watching them and they will have to answer in an official way. Saving face will be of first importance.
Nor did I wish to hand it directly to the dump crew. That puts us in an adversarial position and removes any opportunity they may have of taking action voluntarily, and thereby losing face themselves.
So what I did was make one copy of it and handed it to Kathy herself, with the words, “Here. Use this in any way you see fit, including giving it to your lawyer.” She looked at me with wide eyes and I took off for another load.
About two hours later I saw her again. Her words came in over the radio in broken tones, “I know an old country boy that I will remember for rest of my life!” Then, bless her heart, she did exactly what I figured she would. She showed it to all of her friends. That included some of our trucking company officials, other truckers including ones from all of the other companies hauling in there, and --- many of the dump crew themselves. She never did work up the courage to give it to her lawyer, though many of the men practically begged her to do it. Perfect!
Me? I went home and let things percolate.
Good lord! What an effect! When I went back to work the next day the dispatcher was doing all he could to give me anything I could want. I called payroll to work out some problem and she was so warm and cooperative that it was both funny and startling. Payroll, yet!!!
When I got to Weyerhauser the crew greeted me like a long-lost brother. My fellow drivers and the truck mechanics treated me with overwhelming respect. For a guy that has been in the doghouse all of his life and don’t know how to take such things, it about gave me a heart attack. I feel more comfortable when someone cusses me out.
Then Weyerhauser offered Kathy a job of driving one of the locomotives. It was only a switch engine, but she was thrilled right down to her toes. The thought of that little bitty gal driving a great big locomotive just cracked me up. Could she do it? Heck, yes!!
We never again heard anything about that union suing somebody.
I already had my mouth open in astonishment at the wild success of my endeavors, but the aftermath was almost too much.
Kathy moved on to another job a few months later, as did I. But the job I took still brought me back to the same facility in Weyerhauser occasionally. At the end of six months and at the union’s urging, the offender was rehired. The guy was still reeling from what he had been hit with, but it didn’t take him too long to find out all about it and who did it. He was now actively looking for revenge.
I wasn’t all that worried about it. Nonetheless, I kept my eyes peeled and just laughed off the barbs that came my way. If necessary, I might have to lower the boom on him again, but wanted to give him some time to cool down and think about it a bit. Plus, of course, one of the oldest strategies in the book is to give your enemy enough rope to hang himself with.
I also knew that sooner or later the rest of the crew would find out about it, and it would be interesting to see what happened. I waited and did nothing except be pleasant and accommodating.
Meanwhile, I brought in another chapter for the Ice Maiden to review. It was a special one that was close to my heart and especially desired her input, as it concerned the relationship between men and women. I’ll never forget her words when she handed it back the next time I was in. There were tears in her eyes as she said slowly and deliberately, “Don’t . . . change . . . a . . . word! My God! How I wish all men felt that way!”
She showed it to the offender, and the change in attitude was an instantaneous 180 degree turn. Cooperative and friendly, he made it a pleasure to go in there. Now there was peace on all fronts.
Folks, ordinarily I wouldn’t have posted this here. I’m not boasting about something or trying to get a bunch of followers or anything else self-centered. But to just sit by and witness all of the fear and suffering that has been caused by this Organization about drives me up a wall. These are mere men that we are dealing with, men who have learned to rule us using mental games and illusions like the Wizard of Oz did. There are ways to fight that are quite effective, but they are things that take cool heads and advance planning. The scattergun approach will not work.
I’m hoping that this little tale of mine will help some to realize that and aid them to not be so fatalistic. Can we prevail? Heck, yes! Each of us regardless of how strong or weak or our walk of life can have an important part of that.
The continuing parts of this series will be dedicated to some very practical aspects of how. The tactics that worked against Weyerhauser, et. al. will not work here, of course. Each battle must be designed differently to fit the enemy and the circumstances. I hope to lay the foundation for that, as well as demonstrate the necessity for handling it in this manner.
I'll post the open letter in a few minutes.
Tom Howell
Alias: LoneWolf