Until 1933, no unions, no rules: you were at the mercy of your foreman. I could go to work at seven o'clock in the morning, and at seven fifteen the boss would come around and say: you could come back at three o'clock. If he preferred somebody else over you, that person would be called back earlier, though you were there longer. It was lousy. Degraded. You might call yourself a man if you were on the street, but as soon as you went through the door and punched your card, you was nothing more than a robot
Millwright Ron
www.unionmillwright.com

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Gods Chosen Few
Union Millwright And Damn Proud Of It.
www.unionmillwright.com