Brother Against Brother

By Ed Magnuson

The once lavish estate of the Hormel family, which built one of the nation's most prosperous meat-packing firms, is now a home for wayward children. The family that had long dominated the civic and social life of Austin, Minn., moved away and gave up active management of Geo. A. Hormel & Co. in the 1950s. But the meat-packing plant remained the economic mainstay of the pleasant small town (pop. 23,000) in the rolling farm country of southern Minnesota. Thus when 1,450 workers went on strike last August at Hormel's new $100 million facility, Austin was torn apart.

Suddenly, families and neighbors were caught up in emotional arguments about the walkout and the company's threats to fire those who did not return to work. Austin Mayor Tom Kough, who earns $5,000 a year as a city official + and $30,000 as an engineer at the Hormel plant, is one of the strikers. Plant Manager Deryl Arnold found himself opposing his striking brother and a nephew. "It's father against son, brother against brother," lamented Arnold.

Last week the situation nearly erupted into serious violence when Hormel's management declared that the plant was open to any nonunion workers who wanted the strikers' jobs. On Monday, some 50 cars carrying strikers and sympathizers circled the huge plant, blocking the gates and harassing anyone who tried to enter. Tires were slashed on cars carrying would-be workers. Strikers pounded on the autos, terrifying passengers. The tactic worked: the plant could not reopen.

Fearing that the hostility was getting out of control, Austin Police Chief Don Hoffman joined Mayor Kough in asking Minnesota Governor Rudy Perpich to send Army and Air National Guard troops to restore order. Some 500 soldiers arrived early Tuesday morning, bundled in fleece-lined parkas against the sub- freezing weather. Armed only with riot sticks, they deployed outside three plant gates as workers, including hard-pressed farmers eager for the Hormel jobs, tried to enter. But the strikers again shouted threats, beat on the cars and turned back the frightened drivers. "This is like a terrible nightmare," said Hoffman.

By Wednesday, 300 additional Guards helped provide routes for strikebreakers to enter the plant while most of the strikers were kept away from the Hormel property. The workers began to turn out limited amounts of some of the plant's products, including Spam, bacon bits, luncheon meat and sausage. Company officials, at Perpich's urging, agreed to meet with a fact- finding middleman, Boston Lawyer Arnold Zack.

Even with its main facility shut down, Hormel finished last year with the most profitable quarter in its history and record earnings of $38.6 million, among the best in the industry. The company had slashed salaries from $10.69 an hour to $8.25 two years after opening the new plant in 1982, although its negotiators now propose paying $10 an hour to regular employees while offering newcomers $8. The strikers have twice refused a settlement, insisting on restoration of all benefits the company had reduced.

The dramatic call-up of the Guard and the plant's reopening helped Zack restart discussions between the two sides. But after two days of talks in St. Paul, he said only that the atmosphere had been "very placid and very tolerant." Whatever the eventual outcome, the wounds inflicted by brother on brother in this once harmonious company town will not soon heal.

With reporting by Barbara Dolan/Austin