Coal Codified

Where General Johnson's bullyragging and President Roosevelt's patriotic pleas had failed, 30,000 determined coal miners in Pennsylvania scored a major success for NRA last week. Only after they defied their union leaders and started another strike which threatened to engulf the industry were mine operators sufficiently terrified to sign a soft coal code.

First big strike of the NRA occurred last July in the same Pennsylvania coal fields (TIME, Aug. 7 et seq.). Starting in Fayette County, 50,000 miners walked out in protest against the operators' refusal to recognize John Llewellyn Lewis' United Mine Workers. Riot, bloodshed and death preceded Governor Pinchot's declaration of martial law and his dispatch of guardsmen. A temporary peace was patched up when President Roosevelt sent Deputy Administrator McGrady into the coal fields as his personal emissary to promise the strikers a square deal under NRA. With mining resumed, coal code negotiations at Washington settled down into a long pull-dick-pull-devil between operators and Union Leader Lewis. General Johnson coaxed, wheedled, stormed without success. Fortnight ago he was ready to rivet a code of his own on the industry. Last week he changed his mind, turned back to hard-boiled diplomacy.

Leader of the July strike was a young Irish redhead named Martin Ryan. He was president of the U. M. W. local at Colonial No. 4 mine of H. C. Frick Coke Co., U. S. Steel Corp. subsidiary. His glib influence over fellow workers was greater than that of Leader Lewis whose code activities in Washington Miner Ryan distrusted. He harangued the men out of the pits when Lewis implored them to stick. He was the last to consent to a compromise with the operators. As delay followed delay on the code, he blew hot words on the miners' discontent. Why was there no code yet? Because the operators were stalling for time. Why did they want time? So they could mine a surplus of coal at low wages and then shut down and sell it at a big profit when a code was forced on them.* Only a strike would break up their scheme.

Last week 240 union delegates met at Pricedale. It was a rowdy meeting from which six men were ejected before it voted a "holiday" for 30,000 workers. Outside Hungarian Hall thousands of United Miners cheered the decision to defy their national leader and follow Insurgent Ryan.

Early next morning 400 strikers gathered at the Gates mine of the Frick company, 15 mi. from, Uniontown. Six mine bosses followed by a few maintenance men started to shove through the pack. A picket leader jostled a mine guard. Stones began to fly. "Let 'em have it!" roared a mine boss. Bang-bang-bang went the mine guards' guns. Tear gas enveloped the strikers. One guard shot another guard's arm off by mistake. Fifteen strikers were dropped by bullets, their names a typical roster of U. S. mine labor: Louis Kromer, Steve Hrosky, George Ely, Anton Maura, Walter Ordorsky, Paul Popson, Mason Robert, George Hroska, Joe Goletz, Mike Budman, James Shannon, George Illeg, Vincent Stunga, Joseph Kromer. One fell on the railroad track, was barely dragged to safety before an oncoming freight train. For the shootings a mine boss and six guards were clapped into jail.

Martin Ryan's one-day-old strike, widely dramatized by the Gates fusillade, produced quick results. At Harrisburg Governor Pinchot hopped into his car, sped to Washington, told President Roosevelt that he must produce a coal code at once if he did not want to see the "holiday" sweep out of Pennsylvania into Ohio, West Virginia, Kentucky, Illinois. Referring to Frick company officials, Pennsylvania's Governor declared: "Those swine are responsible for most of the difficulties."

That night President Roosevelt called to his White House study General Johnson, Attorney General Cummings, Secretary Ickes, Mr. Lewis, a delegation of mine operators. Mincing no words he told the latter they had had eight weeks to settle their code differences; he was tired of further dillydally; he would give them just 24 hours to get together and bring him a code to sign.

The 24 hours came and went but without a coal code. In the 25th hour an operators' committee agreed to the code General Johnson had drafted week before (TIME, Sept. 18). By way of concession they did manage to get a boost in the work week from 36 to 40 hours, to wangle through a long "interpretation" of the collective bargaining clause that its "plain meaning cannot be changed by any interpretation by any one."

Paralleling the code and fundamental to it were wage contracts negotiated between operators and U. M. W. The general recognition of his union was a triumph for John Lewis of more lasting worth than Martin Ryan's strike. He had bargained collectively for 400,000 miners, reputedly the largest number ever brought under a single wage scale agreement.

After another 24 hours most of the operators, haggard and sleepy-eyed, assembled in General Johnson's office to sign the code prior to its dispatch to the White House. It was a cheerless ceremony, for the operators felt they had been browbeaten into surrendering most of their industrial freedom to organized Labor and the Government. Alabama and Western Kentucky operators, a recalcitrant minority throughout the negotiations, refused to surrender, sign or settle.

*Soft coal production for July 1933 was 29,482,000 tons compared with 17,857,000 tons for July 1932.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.