During the spring of 1995, I was assigned to negotiate a first contract at the BTR Sealing Systems factory in Reidsville, North Carolina; recently organized by ACTWU (now Workers United.) The 450 hourly workers were engaged in the production of wiper blades for major automobile companies.

BTR plants in various states were represented by several unions, including ACTWU in Tennessee. The company had a history of bargaining in good faith and avoiding anti-union activity. A collective bargaining agreement was ratified by Reidsville workers on January 22, 1996. Several months later, ACTWU merged with the ILGWU to form UNITE!

The manufacture of wiper blades begins in the Extrusion Department, where blocks of melted rubber are stretched into a thin ribbon while travelling down a long conveyor belt, being processed in stages to fit product specifications. The work is hard and dangerous, involving exposure to toxic chemicals. The extruded rubber then passes through numerous departments, each adding one feature to the design. The highly repetitive tasks are not only boring and tedious, but fraught with ergonomic risk.

Staying a step ahead of competitors was the lifeblood of BTR. Corporations like Ford and General Motors called all the shots, with multiple suppliers vying for every order.

The workforce of Local 2639 was an unusual mixture of people. Job openings exceeded demand in the small industrial city and management had little choice but to accept nearly all applicants. More than half the employees were crack users, some with criminal backgrounds. I described it as more like representing a street gang than a union local when talking with fellow staff. But folks did a good job electing their executive board, which was one of the finest I’ve ever dealt with. It was a strong local with eighty-five percent membership in a right-to-work state.

For the next two-and-a-half years, upper management worked with the union to resolve issues in a spirit of cooperation. This didn’t mean all the supervisors and department heads were as reasonable. An emotionally volatile membership working under people who resented following a contract resulted in thirty third-step grievances per month. Half of them were utter nonsense, but the rest demanded resolution. The committee and I met regularly with Human Resource Director Dave Lincoln and worked though it all in a mostly amicable fashion.

The Second Contract

In June 1998, Dave Lincoln invited me and the committee to “an important meeting.” Plant Manager Todd Alston explained that several large customers were concerned about interruption of product flow if the upcoming contract negotiations resulted in a labor dispute. They would consider switching suppliers if a new agreement couldn’t be reached several months before the current contract expired in January. He requested that we begin bargaining once the plant reopened after the customary shutdown during the week of July 4.

I was immediately reluctant. “Whatever we might have to offer at an early ratification, there’s a good chance our folks will just vote it down, saying we’ll get a second chance during the normal contract window. And if in fact, we’ve achieved the best settlement possible and can’t do better in January, all hell is gonna break lose. We might end up with the very strike your customers are afraid of. I don’t force contracts down people’s throat and I’m not gonna risk dividing and splintering the local.”

Todd reiterated the likelihood of losing major accounts, resulting in layoffs and little economic flexibility when we finally sat down in late November. It was a credible argument given the nature of his industry. I caucused with the committee and they agreed.

“If we do this,” I told him, “you’re gonna have to make the workers an offer they can’t refuse. You’ll have to do better than you would have in January. Because of the relationship we have at a local and national level, I’ll try to accommodate you but we’re not gonna drag this out. Either we have a ratified deal by Labor Day or negotiations are over until the contract officially opens.”

I endured two days of grueling union meetings covering all seven shifts in the Holiday Inn conference room, to explain the situation and get input regarding the new contract.

A few days later, I met with committee members to sort through our notes and formulate a coherent set of proposals. They were all level-headed and genuinely cared about their coworkers.

Linda Wilkerson was president of Local 2639. She understood the contract, was sharp enough to intuit the underlying cause of problems, communicated with the right balance of force and diplomacy, thus earning the respect of both management and workers. Vice President Ed Dones had spent twenty years in the military before finding religion and becoming a preacher. But he was nonjudgmental, open minded, and understood that goodness manifests in many ways. Avra Waller was recording secretary and a close friend of Linda. Ron Huff served as trustee.

I distributed a leaflet to formally announce the onset of negotiations. Leaflets must be tailored to bring two distinct audiences into the real world: workers and management. The message included:

Sitting down at the bargaining table and asking for improvements is easy. Getting the company to agree is usually more difficult. How much we get depends on the strength of our union local.

Collective bargaining negotiations often begin with a brief introductory meeting where the parties take each other’s measure and discuss their priorities in a general sense. Ours occurred on July 14. The committee and I chose seats at the conference table in a Holiday Inn meeting room. A few minutes later, management sat across from us and introduced their lawyer. The short man with neatly cropped hair and a pasty complexion was dressed more casually than most company attorneys, sporting only a beige long-sleeved shirt and khakis. We exchanged business cards and I reviewed his: Robert Sands, Esq. - Ogletree Deakins.

Ogletree is one of the largest and most notorious union-busting firms in America. I pivoted to face management. “Where the hell do you come off bringing an Ogletree lawyer to the table?! We agreed to early negotiations to help your business and you promised an amicable process in return.”

“No need to get hot under the collar,” said Sands. “We’re all here to bargain in good faith and arrive at a new agreement.”

“We’ll see,” was all I responded.

We proceeded to discuss the state of the business and overall concerns of both parties. As the short meeting drew to a close, Sands made a request. “Please refrain from handing out leaflets during these negotiations. Let’s keep what’s being discussed in this room until it’s time for a ratification.”

“I always keep my members informed by handing out leaflets after every session. I don’t blindside them with a last, best and final offer. That’s nonnegotiable.”

The next meeting began a few days later at 9am. Both parties took their previous seats, with Sands positioned directly across from me. Following some innocuous opening remarks, he distributed copies of the company’s proposal. I asked for a brief caucus to study them and management left the room.

During the next few minutes, I reviewed the worst set of union busting proposals I’d ever seen presented to an established local:

• The union would have to re-sign all of its members at the end of each calendar year

• Forfeiting the right to file NLRB or discrimination charges, with the grievance process being the sole means of redress

• Giving up all rights to lawful concerted activity and protest

• Giving up the right to file for unemployment benefits during plant shutdowns

• Deleting the hard-won contractual limit of working only two mandatory Sundays per month

• Eliminating past practice as an argument in the grievance process

• Reducing medical leave

• Revising the drug policy to permit testing without probable cause.

• Allowing BTR to subcontract any and all jobs

I asked Linda to summon management back into the room. I very seldom lose my temper or use profanity during negotiations. But like a street fight, when reason and diplomacy are no longer options, the only remaining recourse is aggression.

“Where the fuck do you come off handing us a set of proposals like this after we agreed to early negotiations?!” I said, staring Sands in the eyes. “You think this is gonna get your client a contract?!”

Sands cut me off, responding in his soft-spoken but obsequious style, “Why don’t you go through each of the proposals and explain your concerns?”

“Fuck you! You know damn well what my concerns are!” I shouted. “Do you think this is my first rodeo? Does your client think the union is going to undertake the time and expense of re-signing all its members every year?”

Sands interrupted again. “This requirement has already been proposed in the North Carolina legislature. We’re just trying to stay abreast of the law.”

“Bullshit, pigs will fly before this ever gets voted into law. In the name of amicable negotiations you expect us to renounce most of the legal rights protecting workers and then make major concessions to the contract!” I turned to face management. “We have no obligation to continue early negotiations. I’m thinking about now the best thing would be to reconvene in November and you hire another lawyer so we don’t have to sit here and listen to this fuckin’ moron run his mouth. I’ll shut this fuckin’ place down before ever agreeing to even one of these proposals!”

“I think we all need to take a deep breath, hold hands and pray for God’s guidance,” said the Reverend Ed Dones.

“Fuck prayer!” I shouted, as the committee stared at me in disbelief. “We’re in a fight!” I pivoted to face the company. “Let me make it simple. We’re going to lunch now. If this first proposal isn’t off the table when we get back, early negotiations are over!”

I drove the committee to the Golden Corral, which at the time was Reidsville’s finest restaurant. “I hope you understand that wasn’t how I really feel about prayer,” I told the Reverend, “but I was trying to make a point and couldn’t let anything break my momentum.”

“I realized that even while you were speaking,” replied the Rev. “God forgives you and so do I.”

We returned to the conference room an hour later and found management already seated. After taking our places I calmly addressed Sands, “Ball’s in your court.”

“At this time,” he responded, “the employer would like to withdraw its proposal regarding the annual re-signing of union cards.”

“Well, that’s a step in the right direction,” I countered. “I’m glad your client understands I don’t bluff.”

I distributed the union’s proposals, calling for a substantial general wage increase each year, supplementing the pension with a 401(k) offering a ten percent match, improved health insurance, and reasonable modifications to various contract articles.

The parties adjourned and set a new date.

I distributed a leaflet titled, “HEY BTR, DON’T MESS WITH US!!” denouncing Sands as a union-buster from Ogletree and itemizing his offensive proposals. We told BTR that if these insulting proposals weren’t taken off the table, early negotiations would be over and we’d be at WAR! We told BTR that we would write their customers to make sure they understood why negotiations had broken down.

We held another round of shift meetings on July 23 and 24.  There’s a delicate balance that must be maintained when rallying a temperamental workforce to fight their employer. It’s critical they understand the issues and become sufficiently indignant, but at the same time not allow their expectations to run rampant. There’s no point negotiating a great contract that gets voted down and divides the local.

The largest meeting was first shift. A woman rose from her seat and angrily demanded we achieve wage parity with railroad employees. “If they can get that, why can’t we?!” She was met with an emphatic round of applause.

I explained the best we could do was reach the high-end of our own industry. If we actually forced an auto supplier to pay railroad wages, the plant would lose its ability to compete and shut within six months. Anticipating this discussion, I’d prepared an exercise to offer folks a more pragmatic sense of collective bargaining.

“Does anyone know how much each five cent wage increase costs the company?”  I was met with silence, but sensed curiosity.

“Most of you work a sixty hour week. Factoring in overtime, a nickel raises wages by $3.50 per week. Not much, I agree. But multiply that by fifty-two weeks and then 450 workers and it costs the company $81,900 per year. Multiply that into a three year contract and it costs the company nearly $245,000. So, each time we force BTR to add another five cents to the raise, we’ve strong-armed them into giving us another $245,000 they’d rather keep for themselves.

“We’re obviously not going to settle for a nickel. So, as we fight for the kind of raise you deserve, we’re playing high-stakes poker. As I said in the first leaflet, asking is one thing and getting is another. The biggest thing that determines how many times we make the company give us another $245,000 is how well the members stick together and don’t fight among themselves. You want to send management a message? Bring me some signed union cards.”

By the evening of the second day, my brain was completely fried from repeating the same ad hoc lesson in economic mathematics at each meeting while sleep deprived from two nights at the hotel. But for the moment, folks were where they needed to be: united but realistic. All most workers want is to have negotiations explained to them in language they can understand.

Next Up! Part Two: The Clock is Ticking…

Phil Cohen spent 30 years in the field as Special Projects Coordinator for Workers United/SEIU, and specialized in defeating professional union busters.  He’s the author of Fighting Union Busters in a Carolina Carpet Mill and The Jackson Project: War in the American Workplace.