Bethlehem Steel, Wartime Labor, and San Francisco

April 12th, 2007

By Jonathan H

By Jonathan Haeber

Union Iron Works Site, 1890s
Union Iron Works, headed by Irving M. Scott, had become a major war contractor leading up to the Spanish American War and the occupation of Hawaii in the 1890s. Dogpatch was filled in with rock by the railroad companies and Pier 70 became Union Iron Works’ center of operations.

Part 1 — Union Iron Works, the New Navy, and Portrero Point

Editor’s Note: This is Part One in a three-part entry on San Francisco’s Dogpatch and Pier 70. The series follows the organized labor history of the Gilded Age’s most influential industrialist: Charles M. Schwab and his Bethlehem Steel.

It was once a small promontory on the southeastern edge of San Francisco — an outcropping of California’s state rock that would eventually be razed for a working-class ‘company town’ known as Irish Hill. A short walk to the north was Dogpatch, a marshy no-man’s land until a few powder works moved in to provide gold mines with much-needed explosives. The railroads followed, and soon a bridge was built to cross the swamp.

Dogpatch was the center of San Francisco’s Imperial Age industrial might. Out of a swamp arose Union Iron Works. It had grown from a small forge producing stamp mills for gold mines to the largest ship builder on the West Coast. Throughout its history, the story of labor is inextricably bound to the site of Union Iron Works. According to Christopher VerPlanck, “no other district of California was industrialized to the degree of Portrero Point during the last quarter of the 19th century.” In this rough area of industrial San Francisco we see the perfect example of war’s inextricable connection to organized labor. Seen from the surface, labor may benefit from a wartime economy, but in general it stymies organized labor and ensures the governmental regulation of labor organizations. A prime example of this is told through the legacy of Charles Schwab and his San Francisco shipyard.Union Iron Works, San Francisco
Irving Scott’s Union Iron Works started as a Gold Rush company but really grew big on the business of American Imperialism.

In the 1880s to 1890s the U.S. Navy experienced incredible growth in its fleet — so much so that it became known as the “New Navy.” The impetus for growth was primarily due to the U.S. interests in the Pacific (particularly Hawaii) and the looming overthrow of Hawaii’s Queen Liliuokalani, which would provide a perfect port for U.S. naval occupation. By this time, Union Iron Works was no stranger to shipbuilding and Irving M. Scott knew that the Navy would need frigates on the West Coast. Scott secured the first Navy contracts for Union Iron Works, which would help it become “the largest shipyard in California and the dominant manufacturing facility on the West Coast” (VerPlanck).

Employment Health Cards at Union Iron
Employment health cards in the basement of the 1896 Union Iron Works administration building. Each card lists physical descriptions (including euphemisms like: “fat, thin, slovenly, lethargic, pale, nervous, wiry, muscular”). They have the home address and the name of the steelworker, their heart condition, their scars — there’s even an eerie column for “missing parts” (perhaps an indication of the danger of the line of work they were in). There had to be over 20,000 sheets in the pile. A neatly stacked historical record that probably won’t survive another 20 years simply because of its volume

In the 1890s labor at Union Iron Works was not organized. The IWW was yet to be born. AF of L was just barely getting started in Ohio, and had bigger fish to fry than Union Iron Works; its principal target was one industry becoming a major player: Steel. At the head of these newly rising big businesses were industrial giants such as Elbert H. Gary, Andrew Carnegie, and a young entrepreneur — Charles Schwab. Schwab had helped catapult Carnegie’s U.S. Steel into success, but he had a tenuous, often fiery relationship with labor

To be continued in Part 2: “Schwab’s Gamble on a Great War


Google Maps Says: “Swim Across the Atlantic Ocean”

April 9th, 2007

By Jonathan H

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Google's Intuitive Map Interface

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A friend of mine from Oregon recently sent me a short directive.? She said that I should go to maps.google.com.? “Why?” I said, “I already have a?GPS device.”?

“Just do it.” She said.?

Well, one must never deny?an appeal to “just do it,” so I made my way to Google Maps post-haste.

“Ok, now click on?’Get Driving Directions.’ Then?type in New York as your point of origin and Paris, France as your?destination.”?She said.

I was still confused, and most definitely not quite amused.

Then she said to scroll down to?prompt #23.

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New York to Paris, According to Google

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“But I don’t have my fins!” I exclaimed.

Sure enough, it’s another case of Google Maps wigging out, quite literally.? In another case, a bug (an earWIG, ironically) got caught in the scanning process.? When one typed in the coordinates of: 48.857635,10.20529 a giant killer alien (or an ultra-large scanned bug) showed up on the satellite.? Google has since fixed the problem now all that remains as evidence is an off-color square in a giant swathe of German farmland.

This case?of purportedly “swimming?across the atlantic” seems to me to?be the first of many of Google’s intentional bugs to delight its users.??And, if so, I applaud Google.? It’s an ingenuous marketing effort on their part. Word is already flying among the ears and wigs of MySpace. A truly viral campaign that really started with a bug — maybe even an intentional one at that.?

Then again, it could be another bored Google worker with too much time on his hands…. those lucky bums and their $400-share stock options…


Chiquita, Banana Republics, & Colombian Terrorists

April 3rd, 2007

By Jonathan H

Chiquita's Corporate Pamphlet to Workers?
Chiquita’s corporate pamphlet ironically encourages employees to meet and form unions.? Their website has a section on corporate responsibility.??

Chiquita Corporate OfficeCan we have our bananas and eat them too? Certainly not without putting a portion of the proceeds towards global terrorism.? “What?” You may query. That’s right: Chiquita, the illustrious blue-stickered fruit company, paid off millions of dollars to 3 of the 28 “Foreign Terrorist Organizations” listed by the State Department.

The biggest payments were made to Colombia’s famed “death squad”: The United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia (AUC). The AUC “death squad” has been known to brutally kill in frequent massacres across the Colombian villages. They also have their hand in a sizable portion of Colombia’s cocaine exports.

And You Thought American Partisan Politics Were Bad
Colombia is currently a country divided by two sides: leftist?rebel groups, vying for territory against right-wing paramilitary forces, who are often allied with business and government officials.? Both the left and right-oriented groups control large portions of the country and are responsible for the deaths of local residents, human rights workers, and trade unionists. All play an active role (to varying degrees) in the Colombian cocaine trade.

Chiquita has responded to the recent revelations saying that they used the money to protect their workers from being killed by the AUC.? But Human Rights groups in Colombia say that the money was also used to “quiet” down workers who were working towards unionization in Chiquita-owned subsidiaries — especially ironic considering that Chiquita encourages organizing as workers in their spanish-language pamphlet (pictured at top).?

Banana Republic History in a Nutshell
To the average South-Central American, the Chiquita news is just “business as usual.” As far back as ?1899, the United Fruit Company (progenitor of Chiquita) has been operating in Honduras, Colombia, Costa Rica, Guatemala, and Panama.? The U.S. Army has protected the banana interests and has even deployed to protect the interests of the company in 1903, 1907, 1912, 1919, and 1924.

Then came a fateful day in 1928.? Tousands of laborers in Colombia’s plantations began a strike to demand written contracts, eight-hour work days, six-day weeks, and the end of food coupons. The strike continued for months when, on December 6, 1928, an army regiment from Bogota was dispatched to the town. The army set up machine guns on the roofs of surrounding buildings, closed off surrounding roads, and opened fire on the strikers — killing anywhere from 48?to 2,000 workers (estimates range wildly, but are likely between 500-1200). Gabriel Garc?a M?rquez?s beautifully written book, One Hundred Years of Solitude, contains a depiction of this event. The 1928 Santa Marta Massacre forever changed the face of Colombian politics and is partly why there is a vibrant leftist movement in the country.

Since then, the United Fruit Company (whose involvement in the massacre is debatable) has changed its name to Chiquita.

Is That a Banana in Your Pocket or Are You Smuggling Guns and Drugs?
Of course, the strike of 1928 wasn’t the only time Chiquita (then United Fruit)?has been in a bit of PR trouble.? In 1997, authorities siezed one ton of cocaine from Chiquita-owned ships leaving from chiquita-owned ports. A?2003 report by the Organization of American States claims that a Chiquita subsidiary could have used a company?ship to?smuggle 3,000 rifles and 2.5 million bullets to the paramilitary groups.?

The Justice Department began to catch wind.? Then Chiquita, realizing that they were funding listed “terrorists,” notified the Justice Department — yet continued to fund the paramilitary groups for another 10 months.?In the end, The Justice Department decided not to indict Chiquita.? Rather, they opted for a settlement, and everyone wins — that is, everyone except for the average Colombian.?

Editor’s Note: This report was strongly sourced from journalist/historian April Howard’s riveting expose on Chiquita’s international dealings.? If you want a full detailed look, then check it out, here.