The Strike Toll

The auto strike was scheduled to end this week, but its effects will be felt for months to come. After President Johnson warned that a continuation of the five-week stoppage would "jeopardize the continuous upward thrust of our economy," Walter Reuther finally went into action. He convened the union's General Motors council, won their ratification of the national agreement and scheduled a nationwide membership vote to approve the contract. Local unions that had not yet signed contracts-there were still 33 of them at week's end-could still remain on strike, but Reuther strongly indicated that even he is sick of the prolonged walkout and that they can expect no further encouragement from him.

Most Government economists believe that the G.M. strike will not cause the economy any permanent damage, but the critical point is fast approaching. New car sales have dipped 20.5% below 1963's pace, and the Federal Reserve's industrial production index for October is expected to show a drop of nearly two points-its first decline in more than a year-as a result of the strike. General Motors has already lost production of some 400,000 autos worth nearly $1 billion, and although some of the loss will be made up in later sales, a good part of it is permanent. The strike has also begun to affect most of G.M.'s 33,000 suppliers, who depend on the auto giant alone for more than $7 billion in sales each year. Many scheduled short work weeks, but others -such as American Metal Products and A. O. Smith-closed down some of their production facilities and laid off thousands of employees.

As usual, it will take most union members more than a year to make up in new benefits what they lost in wages during the strike. The 306,000 G.M. workers lost more than $170 million, and payment of modest strike benefits depleted the U.A.W.'s $67 million strike fund by more than $40 million. The loss in buying power also depressed business in communities with heavy concentrations of G.M. plants, where retail sales slumped and loan applications rose. In Pontiac, Mich., where hundreds of auto trailers stood empty and desolate, a butcher in a U.A.W. neighborhood noted that no one was buying his T-bone steak, sadly ground it into hamburger.

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