The Guernica Project

By Glenn A. Sunness

His first day with a Chicago law firm, labor attorney Eric Rossbach meets industrialist Sheldon Blatty. This corrupt union boss, Mike Mulrooney, is trying to shove a contract down my throat, Blatty complains. No damn unions telling me how to run my company. Rossbach reassures Blatty that he can keep the Blatty plant nonunion. If a strike turns violent, Rossbach would rush to court for a quick injunction.

Blattys new law firm will not deter Mulrooney. Hes determined to use any means available, legal or illegal, to force Blatty to sign a union contract. He has his own aggressive game plan, his Guernica Project, to break the will of antiunion employers like Blatty. However, will Mulrooneys hardball campaign force Blatty to outsource his production to China?

Rossbach meets Deborah Morgan, the unions attorney, at the first bargaining session. He thinks shes beautiful. Rossbachs marriage is crashing, but he knows that nothing can happen between Morgan and him while they are opposing counsel. Then, while Rossbach and Morgan represent their clients during contract negotiations, in courtroom battles, and during a bitter and deadly strike, their relationship changes in ways that neither had anticipated when they first met.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475910223

Glenn A. Sunness

Glenn A. Sunness attended the University of Minnesota Law School, was an attorney with the National Labor Relations Board at its Chicago and Los Angeles Regional Offices, and was in private practice in Los Angeles. Recently retired from teaching, he now lives in the Los Angeles area.

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Part One

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The Election

Chapter 1

May 15, 2008—the Speech

I know some of you people want to bring that damn union into my plant, bellowed Sheldon Blatty, president and sole owner of Blatty Enterprises, Inc. He was addressing his three hundred production and warehouse employees in the lunch area Thursday morning, May 15, 2008. I have this speech from my high priced lawyers telling you why you should vote against the union in this election on May 30. Like it or not, you’ll have to listen to it. Bottom line, you’ll vote ‘no union’ if you want to keep your jobs.

The Blatty family had owned and controlled Blatty Enterprises, Inc., a closed corporation, throughout the twentieth century. The firm had had one manufacturing plant in Wapapatomie, Wisconsin, a small city of twenty thousand located in the north-central part of the state. The Blattys had always kept the company nonunion. Sheldon Blatty was determined the firm would not go union on his watch. No damn labor union was going tell him how to run his company.

In late February 2008, Blatty had learned that a union, the Amalgamated Industrial and Commercial Workers International Union of North America, was trying to organize his plant. Blatty contacted Ed Balfour, his local attorney, for advice in fighting the union. Balfour, a general practitioner, pulled in a large Milwaukee law firm with labor specialists on staff.

The high priced Milwaukee labor lawyers told Blatty what he could and could not do before the election. Blatty could not threaten his employees or promise them wage increases or benefits to discourage them from voting for the union. He could not fire union supporters. All such actions were prohibited unfair labor practices under the National Labor Relations Act (NLRA).

Blatty stood before his employees ready to give his first speech against the union, a speech his labor lawyers had written for him. He planned to give three more speeches, all written by these attorneys, before the May 30 election, a secret ballot election run by the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), a federal agency. The attorneys had drafted each speech carefully to avoid threatening the employees with job losses or plant removal if the employees voted for the union. These attorneys also told him not to make any speeches against the union twenty-four hours before the election.

Blatty remembered sitting in attorney John Sutter’s office in Milwaukee early March complaining about the election. Why the hell can the damn federal government hold this damn election in my plant anyway? It’s getting my workers all stirred up so they’re talking union and not working.

Because the union signed up over thirty percent of your production and warehouse employees, Sutter tried to explain. In fact, I’m told the union showed Board agents union authorization cards from over two hundred of your three hundred production and warehouse employees.

So what do I have to do if the union wins this damn election? Blatty grumbled.

If the union wins May 30, you have to sit down with union agents during the next year and bargain with them in good faith for a union contract covering your production and warehouse employees, Sutter told Blatty. Look, Mr. Blatty, you read these four speeches we drafted to your workers before the election. The speeches will convince them to vote against the union. If you win this election, you can ignore this union afterwards. Moreover, you’ll be union free the next year because the NLRB cannot hold another election for the same employees during that time period.

Blatty did not like the speech his lawyers had written for him that day. He wanted a speech that read like a preacher’s sermon threatening hell and damnation to his employees if they voted for the union. Instead, Blatty feared this tepid document his lawyers drafted would only put his workforce to sleep. Should I read this damn speech and play it safe, Blatty asked himself, or should I give them hell my way?

Following a Blatty family tradition, Blatty’s parents had raised young Sheldon to take control of the family corporation and the city and county of Wapapatomie, Wisconsin. Sheldon was the last of four children to be born into his family and the only male heir. He was that special little boy who guaranteed male succession to take control of the family business. His mother and three older sisters doted on him. His father instilled in young Sheldon attitudes of superiority and entitlement.

Although never a scholar, young Sheldon had always succeeded in passing his public and private school classes because his teachers never wanted to see him again in their classrooms the following year. He had an undistinguished academic record as an undergraduate at the University of Wisconsin, but he succeeded in obtaining his degree from the university’s School of Business.

He joined the family firm following graduation, the only employer he had ever known in his life. The corporate presidency was his birthright, and Blatty succeeded to that office at the age of forty after his father had died tragically from a heart attack brought on by overexertion with a Chicago stripper. Whatever obnoxious personality traits Sheldon Blatty had developed in his youth, he had maintained them successfully throughout his adult life.

At the end of 2007, Blatty Enterprises employed four hundred production and warehouse employees at its Wapapatomie plant. The firm produced kitchen and bathroom faucets and assorted accessories. Products also included specialty items ordered by wealthy customers. For example, if a Wall Street investment banker wanted to relieve himself through gold plated toilet seats at his Manhattan office, his Manhattan apartment, and his home in the Hamptons, he knew that Blatty Enterprises was the firm to contact for such items.

Sheldon Blatty took pride in being the leading purveyor of specialty bathroom and kitchen products for the wealthiest one percent of the population. Since Blatty produced only high-end products going into the most expensive homes, condos, and luxury hotels and resorts in the country, he could easily pass on his higher American labor costs to his customers.

Blatty considered himself a super patriot, stating repeatedly that he was proud to keep his plant in America to provide jobs for American workers. All Blatty products came with tags stating, Proudly Made in America by the Workers of America. Blatty firmly believed that if America was to remain the most powerful country in the world, it must lead the world in manufacturing.

However, the collapse of the national housing market in 2007 hit Blatty Enterprises hard, causing a falloff in demand for its products, and forcing reduced production. In January of 2008, Blatty laid off approximately a hundred of his four hundred production and warehouse employees. The layoffs caused an explosion of fear and discontent throughout the plant. As a result, Manny Zellman, an Organizer with the Amalgamated Industrial Workers, had no trouble convincing over two hundred Blatty production and warehouse employees to sign authorization cards for his union.

The more highly paid long-term employees remaining with Blatty, most with families to support, feared they’d be next in future layoffs. They signed authorization cards for the job security promised by Zellman and for the union’s health insurance plan.

The remaining seventy-five Hispanics at the plant feared that Blatty would choose them next for future layoffs. The Hispanic workers also resented getting the dirtiest and lowest paying jobs within the plant. The English only policy angered them. The racist insults from supervisors and continuous threats of deportation infuriated them.

While the January layoffs triggered the rush to the union, Blatty’s dictatorial managerial style had been creating resentment and hostility within his workforce for years. Blatty prided himself on running his plant the same way his hero, General George S. Blood and Guts Patton, had run his military commands. Blatty wanted supervisors who knew how to kick ass. By signing union authorization cards secretly, Blatty’s production and warehouse employees could stick it to their hated boss by bringing on the NLRB supervised election.

Standing by the podium in the lunch area and facing his employees, Blatty started to read his lawyer’s speech. However, within two minutes he saw his employees doing what he feared they would do, shut down mentally. They were bored and restless on a hot and humid day in mid May. The two large oscillating fans churning away in opposite corners of the lunch area failed to cool the room or provide adequate air circulation.

Turning to his plant manager and son-in-law, Bernie Lindquist, Blatty muttered, I’m losing them, Bernie. They’re tuning me out. I’m gonna give them hell my way. If they don’t want to listen to the lawyer’s speech, they sure as hell will listen to what I have to tell them.

Dad, don’t do it, Lindquist replied with a muffled voice. Stick to the speech the lawyers wrote. Play it safe. Otherwise, we might have real problems.

Blatty had no respect for his son-in-law. He considered Lindquist timid and ineffective as an executive. He had to rescue Lindquist after General Motors had laid the young man off during an Ohio plant closure. Blatty tolerated Lindquist because the man was the husband of his much beloved daughter Samantha and the father of his two grandchildren.

Lindquist lacked an imposing or authoritarian persona. He was average height, several inches less than six feet, and had a physique that bordered on the slender. The features of his oval face lacked any prominent jaw, nose, or other features that would indicate a dynamic personality. Given constant verbal harassment from Blatty, Lindquist began to take on a whipped dog facial expression more commonly found amongst abused or bullied children.

Listen, Bernie, in my plant, I decide what I say to my workers. I know what to tell those idiots so they won’t fall asleep on me. I know how to shake them up.

Blatty, a sixty-two year old man of medium height whose youthful athletic physique had turned to flab from lack of exercise, felt a surge of adrenalin through his body as he focused on his delivery. He stood there before his employees, suit jacket off, the sleeves of his white dress shirt partially rolled up, his collar opened, and his American flag tie loosed. He ran his fingers through his thinning hair, his remaining hair more white than grey. With his square face, large jutting jaw, and bushy eyebrows, the man had an imposing look made worse by the perpetual scowl on his face since the union organizing campaign had begun.

Facing his employees, Blatty yelled at them, You don’t want to listen to what my lawyers wrote; you’ll damn well hear what I have to say.

When do we get our break? a voice in the back of the room yelled out.

Worry about your goddamn job, not your break, Blatty yelled back, Now those union people come out here and get you all twisted promising you the moon. They can do that. They don’t have to pay the bills. I do. You look at all those American auto companies. Where are they today? In the toilet, that’s where. Why is that? Those goddamn unions demand too much, that’s why. Now you look at all those Jap car companies over here. They’re all doing just fine cause they don’t have to put up with any damn union. I won’t let that union bankrupt me. If I can’t make a profit, I shut this place down. I’m not running a welfare operation here for people to sit on their ass and do nothing.

Blatty had gotten their attention by talking job loss. If any of you read the papers or watch TV, you know there’s a bad recession that’s getting worse. There’s a bad housing market killing new home sales, and that kills sales of our products. If we’re losing business, how the hell am I going to pay you all those wages and benefits the union promised you? It ain’t gonna happen.

Looking agitated, Lindquist nudged his father-in-law and said meekly, Dad, stick to the speech our lawyer gave you?

Butt out, Bernie, Blatty snapped back. You look at them out there. They’re listening now, damn it.

Blatty turned back to his employees and his speech. Now listen here, he bellowed. If the union tries to drive my labor costs up, I shut this plant down and move over to China like all my competitors. Why should I pay you people union wages and benefits when I can pay a Chinaman for a day what I must pay you in an hour? Over there, I don’t have to worry about lawsuits and workers’ comp claims. I want to stay here in America giving Americans jobs. However, I’m warning all of you. Before I let a goddamn union in here telling me how to run my plant, I’m shutting this plant down and moving to China. When you vote in this Labor Board election May 30, if you vote for the union, you just voted yourselves out of a job. If you want to keep getting a steady paycheck, you damn well better vote ‘no union.’

Employee Rodney Durand had heard enough. He had to speak out. He stepped away from the wall, this tall and sturdy, twenty-five year old man with mid-length, dark brown hair and a closely trimmed moustache and beard. His deep-set brown eyes, sharp facial features and thin and unsmiling lips gave his face an intense look of someone continuously looking for an argument. A loyal Cheese head, Durand was wearing a Green Bay Packers tee shirt along with his blue jeans. That morning, Durand decided to take Blatty on.

You can’t say that! Durand yelled out. That’s illegal. You can’t fire us and shut down this plant to avoid the union.

What the hell did you say to me? Blatty demanded his face flushed.

Employees around Durand told him to shut up. Don’t get us fired, they muttered. No one backed Durand. He was all alone challenging Blatty. Three hundred employees watched anxiously, waiting to see what would happen next.

He can’t say that, Durand told the employees. The union will protect us. The Labor Board will protect us.

Enraged, Blatty yelled at Durand, Get the hell out of here, you goddamn left-wing son of a bitch. Get out! You’re fired!

You can’t say what you said, Durand shot back. You’re breaking the law. We have our rights.

No one was going to challenge Blatty in front of his employees. He lost all self-control. Goddamn it, get the hell out of here, you union bastard, Blatty yelled at Durand. I’ll get the police.

I’m going. I’m going, Durand yelled back at Blatty. Then while exiting the lunch area, Durand turned to the employees and yelled, You watch. I will be back. The union will get me back in here.

After Durand left, Blatty turned to his remaining employees and exclaimed, You all saw what I did to Durand. Any more smart-assed union bastards out there? I’ll kick your ass out too. Now get back to work.

What about our break? someone asked.

You had your break, damn it, Blatty yelled.

Dad, you shouldn’t have fired him like that in front of all those people, Lindquist said.

Shut up, Bernie, Blatty said harshly. One of your many bad decisions was hiring that union goon when I was on vacation in Florida. However, after today, we’ll never have to see that loudmouthed bastard again. My lawyers will see to that.

Chapter 2

May 15 thru June 30—Leading

at Half Time

Following his termination Thursday morning, May 15, Rodney Durand drove away from the plant and used his cell phone to call Union Organizer Zellman. Blatty fired me, the son of a bitch. When Blatty threatened to shut down the plant if we went union, I called him on it, said it was illegal.

Rod, don’t worry about it, Zellman told Durand. We’ll get you back in there. Meet me in the bar of the Friedlander Motel at one this afternoon. I want you to meet somebody.

At one o’clock Durand entered the Friedlander Motel, a low-end establishment about a half a mile south of the Blatty plant. He met Zellman in the lobby. While leading Durand into the restaurant, Zellman reassured him the union would get him back to work.

Zellman was a high-strung man, short and thin, in his late forties, who spoke rapidly and with great animation. Zellman’s thick, black hair had just begun to recede from the front of his scalp, giving him an extended forehead. That day he had a day’s growth of beard on his sharp featured, oval face. Zellman was the nervous, extroverted salesman always hustling workers to join the union, a bilingual organizer from a Chicago local on special assignment to the International for the Blatty campaign.

Zellman introduced Durand to a man sitting by himself in the back of the motel’s bar finishing a bottle of Heineken. This is Michael Mulrooney, our new Executive Director of Organization and Initial Contracts, Zellman told Durand. He’s up here from the International’s Chicago office to supervise our organizing campaign.

Mulrooney stood up and shook Durand’s hand with a steel like grip. The three men sat down together. Mulrooney ordered everyone a beer and handed Durand his business card, saying, Recently I took over organizing in the International’s Great Lakes District, a seven state area.

That day Mulrooney wore what he referred to as one of his Jimmy Hoffa outfits. Mulrooney was in an inexpensive, dark suit off the rack from a discount suit broker, an inexpensive dark tie, and white dress shirt without French cuffs. He wore white socks and black work shoes.

Mulrooney wanted to dress like Hoffa to project to blue-collar workers that he was, like Hoffa, a man from a blue-collar background, approachable, a man who understood their problems. Hoffa, former president of the Teamsters International Union, was an inspiration to Mulrooney, a man coming from humble beginnings just like Mulrooney’s, but with the brains and balls to lead one of the nation’s most powerful labor unions. Mulrooney knew that wearing the expensive suits of management would turn off the working men and women the union represented. Likewise, if he dressed down and wore casual clothes, Mulrooney would fail to earn the respect of the people he intended to lead.

Mulrooney saved his expensive John Gotti Dapper Don outfits for his meetings with attorneys, high-ranking union officials, and attractive women he wanted to seduce. John Gotti, who at one time headed New York City’s Gambino crime family, was a local celebrity that Mulrooney had grown to admire and respect while a young man living in New York City area during the eighties and nineties. Gotti also came from a poor family, but despite his limited education and humble background, the man had been intelligent and ruthless enough to murder his way to the top ranks of organized crime. The Dapper Don, the Teflon Don, had the amazing ability to avoid convictions until the early nineties when Sammy the Bull Gravino turned on his boss. Mulrooney identified with Gotti’s flamboyant life style, the Dapper Don’s stylish wardrobe of expensive designer suits and accessories, and the Teflon Don’s ability to duck prison while generating publicity for himself with the media and gaining a leadership position with the Mob.

Sitting in the Friedlander Motel Bar, Mulrooney analyzed Durand as a biologist would examine an insect under a microscope. To what extent should the union go to bat for this young man? Who was Durand? Did the union really need Durand inside the plant to win the election?

Why call it the International Union? Durand blurted out. You organizing in China or what? Durand’s flippant remark didn’t impress Mulrooney.

We have a few locals in Canada as well as the United States, Mulrooney answered, so we call it the International Union of North America.

Mulrooney did not want to answer questions; he wanted information. Let’s get on with it. Manny told me Blatty fired you today. He filled me in on what happened. Manny says you’re our key man in the plant. You proved you had balls standing up to Blatty and calling him out on his threats. If we put you back in the plant, we show Blatty employees he can’t get away with firing our people. However, once you’re back in there, do you have the brains to work for the union undercover and keep your mouth shut so Blatty won’t fire you again?

Durand studied this union executive sitting across from him, a man who was forty years old, over six feet tall, and had an imposing persona that could lead a factory of angry workers out on strike. Mulrooney had a ruddy and rugged face with strong features and eyes with a piercing gaze. He spoke with a powerful and commanding voice. Mulrooney was the advocate Durand needed, but Durand had to convince Mulrooney to fight for him.

You put me back in that plant, I’ll do just as you say, keep my mouth shut during the speeches and work undercover.

Glad to hear that, Mulrooney said. You check in with Manny every night after work, tell him what’s going on inside the plant, and wait for us to tell you what to do.,

Durand noticed Mulrooney’s nose, a large nose that had been broken at one time and never properly reset. He couldn’t help himself and asked Mulrooney that awkward question, What happened to your nose? With a half smile, Mulrooney explained that he broke it when pulling a supervisor from the cab of a slowly moving truck to convince the man to honor a Teamster picket line.

I never wanted it fixed right, Mulrooney explained. In contract negotiations, it helps me convince those bastards in management they don’t want to fuck with an ex-Teamster from New Jersey with a broken nose.

So how long till I’m back at work? Durand asked.

We’ll file charges with the National Labor Relations Board immediately, Mulrooney replied. The way he fired you in front of all those workers, Blatty’s a raging bull of emotion unable to control himself, and we’ll use that against him. We can use the way he fired you to get you back right away, but it won’t be tomorrow.

Time to find out who this Durand guy really is, Mulrooney thought. So Rod, tell me about yourself? If you’re our key inside man, I must know more about the man we’re fighting to get back to work. Mulrooney sat back and relaxed during this interrogation; he was the man in control.

Sitting upright as though on a job interview, Durand began, I have an undergraduate degree from the University of Wisconsin with a major in political science and a minor in history.

Why work in a factory if you have all that education? Mulrooney asked.

Durand explained that he was a social studies teacher at a suburban Milwaukee high school while working on his teaching credential and his master’s degree in political science. One day in his world history class, he grabbed a cell phone from a girl who refused to stop texting. The girl yelled assault, the father filed charges, and the high school discharged him. Following his arrest, a public defender told Durand to agree to a plea to avoid jail time. With a conviction on his record, Durand’s teaching days were over.

My brother-in-law got me into the Blatty plant, Durand said. I grabbed the job to get some money coming in. I had student loans to pay off. I had a wife to support.

Didn’t your teachers’ union fight for you? Mulrooney asked, surprised that Durand lost his teaching job so easily.

Those bastards did nothing for me, Durand complained.

Anyone in your family in the union movement? Mulrooney asked,

Durand described his father’s role as a union shop steward at a unionized plant in Wisconsin. His father had led a plant takeover when a new owner refused to recognize the existing union and hire the unionized employees of the former owner. That led, according to Durand, to his father’s arrest and conviction, and then to the breakup of the Durand family. They lost health insurance after his father lost his job, and his mother died of cancer soon afterwards from lack of adequate medical treatment. Then his brothers, sister, and he wound up in different foster homes, with Durand causing problems with whatever family got him.

So Durand’s intelligent but from a disadvantaged working class family, Mulrooney thought. Whatever anger you have inside you, work it off by helping the union win this election.

I don’t want to just win this election, Durand exclaimed. I want a contract for the Blatty workers.

So do we, Mulrooney said. It’s like a football game. The election part of it is like the first half. We win the election; it’s like leading at halftime. Getting the initial contract is like winning the game during the second half. We don’t win unless we get that contract. It’s different in one respect. If we don’t lead by halftime by winning the election, game over. There ain’t no second half. That means we worry about the election first and worry about the contract later.

I hear you, Durand said. You wanted to learn about me. I should know more about you if you’re the man in charge.

Fair enough, Mulrooney replied. I’ll keep it short. I know what it’s like growing up in a poor working class union family. I was lucky as a kid because my family stayed together, but mine was a poor Irish Catholic family of seven kids in New York City. My dad went on disability, so there was no money for college for any of us. I worked as an organizer and a business agent for different Teamster locals in the New York City area, and I put myself through college. I got into the Center for Worker Education at the City College of New York and did their Labor Studies program. After getting my degree at CCNY, I entered this MBA program for working people that New York University had set up.

You’ve an advanced degree? a surprised Durand remarked. Mulrooney did not look like an MBA graduate.

Yeah, President Bush and me, we both got our MBAs, Mulrooney said. He’s the president of the country. Some day soon, I’ll be president of this International Union. I knew I needed education to get somewhere in the union movement. When I get up there, I’ll remember the people working with me.

So why the big push with Blatty? Durand asked Mulrooney. It’s not the biggest or most important company in the country.

I came on board with the International Union to grow membership. Once we get a contract with Blatty, we’ve a base of several hundred for a local union in Wapapatomie. That local can mount organizing campaigns throughout Wapapatomie County and then the central part of the state. What works to organize Blatty will work with other antiunion employers like him.

Shifting the conversation, Mulrooney asked Durand, So what do you want for yourself in the future? Not to work in Blatty’s factory the rest of your life.

I want to hook up with an aggressive union that can succeed in organize workers, Durand replied. Labor’s not doing that great right now.

Help us win this election, Mulrooney said, and you might have a future with this union. Mulrooney made the decision; the union would fight to return Durand to work. Durand was bright enough, angry enough, and determined enough to go all out for the union once Mulrooney put the young man back into that plant.

After the Mulrooney meeting ended, Durand hung out with Zellman for about three hours drinking beer at the Friedlander Motel. Durand heard Zellman calling Milwaukee union attorney Paul Hagstrom to set up a meeting for filing charges with the NLRB about his discharge.

Then Durand headed back to the Kruger farm outside Wapapatomie where he lived with his wife Edna. He knew he would catch hell because he had lost his job. When he told his wife, she blew up.

Edna Durand was of average height, buxom, wide-hipped, and in her mid twenties. A blue-eyed dishwater blond with shoulder length hair, she was mildly attractive when she bothered with makeup. Durand had met her while she was waitressing at a beer hall near the University of Wisconsin campus and trying to work her way through an English major program.

You threw away your job for that damn union, she yelled. Then she smelled beer on his breath. You always hang out with those union people drinking beer after work. They’re using you, getting you stirred up so you do something stupid and get fired.

You’re my wife, damn it, Durand yelled back. What kind of support is that? Blatty broke the law firing me.

Damn it, Rod, you said you’d use this time to finish your thesis. Instead what do you do? You run around with your beer guzzling union buddies and get fired.

Edna’s brother Rick Kruger had arrived home minutes before Durand. Hearing the argument, he had to get involved. Rod got fired all right, the stupid bastard, shooting off his mouth while Blatty’s blasting the union. Rick Kruger, a year younger then Edna, was tall with an athletic physique that won him a slot on the high school football team before dropping out to work.

Listen, smartass, I was with top union people all afternoon, Durand shot back. They’re getting me back to work.

Right, Rick scoffed, just like the union did when the high school fired you. Damn it, I got you that job. Now Blatty’s gonna think I’m with you on this union crap. You’re gonna get me fired next.

An argument broke out in the Kruger household over Durand’s union support and his discharge by Blatty. It got ugly, with Durand pitted against his wife, her brother Rick, and Al Kruger, Edna and Rick’s father. Finally, Durand had had enough. Yelling go to hell all of you, he stormed out of the house and to his unwashed and dented Honda Civic coupe. Spinning his wheels, he shot out over the access road to the highway and drove back to town for more beer and dinner away from the Krugers.

On Friday, May 23, Sheldon Blatty and Wapapatomie attorney Ed Balfour entered the large Milwaukee law firm Balfour had found for his client. The two men were there to discuss settlement of the union’s unfair labor practice charges concerning Durand’s discharge.

Balfour, in his early sixties, had been Blatty’s personal attorney and friend for decades. He was tall, slender, and a little awkward in movement because of the beginning of arthritis. Almost completely bald, Balfour had a friendly and engaging face that deceived attorneys about the quick mind that could spring traps on unsuspecting opponents during trial or in settlement negations.

Senior labor partner John Sutter and labor associate Lester Bernstein met Blatty and Balfour in Sutter’s corner office, an office with a magnificent view of downtown Milwaukee and Lake Michigan. Sutter, a short but distinguished looking man in his mid-fifties, had just completed an in-depth telephonic conference with the Regional Attorney of the NLRB’s Milwaukee Regional Office. The senior partner had worked out a deal he hoped would settle the Amalgamated Industrial Workers pending unfair labor practice charges against Blatty.

Mr. Blatty, I’m warning you, Sutter said, Go with the settlement I worked out, or the NLRB will seek a bargaining order in its complaint against you. Then you won’t have to worry about an election. You’ll just be ordered to bargain with this union.

What the hell do you mean? an angry Blatty asked. My workers don’t get a chance to vote against that damn union?

Exactly, Sutter replied. You could have fired Durand in your office the end of the day with only your personnel director present. Instead, you discharge him dramatically in front of every employee entitled to vote in that election. Then immediately after firing this guy, you threaten everyone else with discharge for supporting the union. Before that, you threatened them in your speech to move the plant to China if they voted union. The region and the union argue that your high-profile firing of Durand plus your immediate threats before and afterwards made a fair election impossible. The only adequate remedy is the bargaining order.

What a pile of crap, Blatty complained. How can they order me to bargain with the union without an election?

Because the union signed up two-thirds of your employees to support their petition for an election, Sutter explained. If the union had majority support at one time, and your unfair labor practices make a fair election impossible, long story short, the union gets a bargaining order by proving up the authorization cards.

That damn government can’t take away the workers right to vote, Blatty protested.

Unfortunately for you, Mr. Blatty, that’s exactly what the NLRB can do, Sutter warned. The United States Supreme Court said in NLRB v Gissel Packing Company that when an employer’s unfair labor practices are so serious that the NLRB can’t hold a fair election, the union gets a bargaining order from the NLRB if it had an authorization card majority before the violations. Here the union had authorization cards from over two hundred of your three hundred production and warehouse employees.

What a bunch of goddamn crap." Blatty yelled as bolted out of his chair, paced the floor, and yelled obscenities.

We warned you what you could and could not do, Sutter reminded Blatty. We prepared these speeches for you to keep everything legal. But you couldn’t control yourself, could you? You want an election and a shot at defeating this union; you go along with this deal I worked out.

I need lawyers with some balls, Blatty complained. I got this flyer from this tough old gal in Chicago, Ursula Seydlitz. She says in her flyer ‘Reasonable rates for extraordinary results-consider this firm your union exterminator.’ I should get her.

Please do, Mr. Blatty, Sutter replied, a smile breaking across his face. Let us know Seydlitz will take over, so we don’t have to represent you any more.

What you people charge me’s outrageous, Blatty complained. A hundred bucks for a phone call to find out how to get to this damn place.

We’re not sitting here haggling over billing, Sutter replied. We won’t knock down the bill, throw in coupons for free car washes, and give you a drawing for a Caribbean cruse just so you stay with us. If you want cheap, call Seydlitz. Just pay our bill before dismissing us.

Damn it, Sheldon, Balfour yelled at his friend, stay with this firm. We can’t experiment with a new Chicago law firm before this election.

Goddamn it, what do I have to do to settle this thing so my workers can vote against those union bastards? Blatty demanded. Take Durand back?

That’s not all, Sutter replied. You’ll have to pay Durand’s lost wages and post a notice for sixty days saying you won’t fire anyone or threaten anyone supporting the union. However, there’s something else. Ever see the movie Patton?

One of my favorites, Blatty exclaimed. Got it on a disk. I pride myself on running my plant like Patton ran his army.

Good, Sutter exclaimed. Find the part where Ike orders Patton to apologize to all the troops under his command for slapping the soldiers with battle fatigue.

Oh for god sake, not that, Blatty snarled.

That’s the deal, Sutter told Blatty. You must meet with all your production employees and the Board attorney and read the notice to them. Then you must apologize to Durand in front of all these employees for firing him. The union will go along with that settlement. You fired him in front of all your employees. You have to take him back and apologize to him in front of all your employees. One other thing. You go along with this deal, and the election will be rescheduled to June 30 to make sure the settlement dissipates the coercive effect of your actions.

Balfour pleaded with Blatty to just agree to the settlement, get the damn election behind him, and give his employees a chance to vote against the union. Feeling pressured by the attorneys in the room, a frustrated and angry Blatty went along with the settlement Sutter proposed.

All right, set up the deal, damn it, Blatty exclaimed. This way we have a shot at keeping that damn union out of my plant.

Good, we get this behind us, Stutter replied. The sooner the election’s over, the sooner things can get back to normal in your plant. Have your plant manager or personnel manager read the remaining speeches. That way you won’t be tempted to repeat your May 15 performance.

Balfour and Blatty left Sutter’s office. Sutter then turned towards Bernstein and said, Just do what we need on this matter to avoid state bar complaints and a malpractice suit. Blatty’s going to lose the election. Then he’ll stiff us on our fees. We have a client who will not listen to us, who is out of control, and who will not pay his bill. Blatty’s the Client from Hell. If we’re lucky, he’ll fire us before the election and replace us with that Seydlitz woman.

Outside Sutter’s law firm, Blatty complained to Balfour, Ed, I don’t like the way those arrogant bastards looked down their noses at us. They don’t get it. They don’t want to fight for me. I’m never gonna let that damn union take over my plant. I don’t care if they do win that election.

Tuesday morning, May 27, Mulrooney entered the Blatty Plant and met with Durand in the main office. We went all out to get you back here, so don’t get fired again, Mulrooney warned Durand.

I’ll be cool, Durand replied. I want to be back in there and keep organizing so we win this election.

I’ll finally meet this son of a bitch Blatty, Mulrooney remarked.

At ten o’clock, Plant Manager Lindquist announced over the plant intercom that all production and warehouse employees should assemble in the lunch area.

A few minutes later, Blatty entered the lunch area and strode to the podium. Looking over the assembled employees, he would not let them sense his humiliation. NLRB Field Attorney Violetta Moreno stood to Blatty’s right, and Mulrooney and Durand to Blatty’s left.

The government requires me to read this notice to all of you, Blatty announced. He started to read the notice fast and softly. Field Attorney Moreno asked Blatty to slow down, raise his voice, and start over again. He did so, starting at the beginning of the notice. Blatty thought he saw some employees smirking at him. He thought he heard faint laughter in the background. He slowed down and read the notice loud enough so everyone in the lunch area could hear him. When finished, Field Attorney Moreno reminded him to apologize to Durand.

Blatty stated in a loud but resigned voice, Mr. Durand, I want to apologize to you here today for criticizing you for speaking up for the union and for firing you. I want to reassure everyone here today that such an incident will not be repeated.

Good enough, Field Attorney Moreno said.

Blatty started to rush out of the lunch area when Mulrooney called out to him, A word with you Mr. Blatty. He wanted to have this first conversation with this antiunion employer to size the man up.

Blatty stopped and waited for Mulrooney. When about two feet from Blatty and eyeball-to-eyeball with him, Mulrooney said with a determined voice, Mr. Blatty, if you pull any crap like this again like firing a union supporter, you’ll find out I’ll become your worst nightmare. You understand me?

Blatty finally had an opportunity to meet the union boss trying to take over his plan. He hated that gangster in that expensive designer suit. Focusing on Mulrooney’s broken nose and angry face, Blatty told him, Go to hell, you union bastard. You don’t tell me what I can and cannot do in my own plant. Blatty turned back on his enemy and stormed out of the lunch area while Mulrooney watched him.

Mulrooney turned to Durand and said, Rod, this ain’t over, so watch your back in here,

Back in his office, Blatty brooded about reading the notice and taking Durand back. He vowed to himself that in the future, once he fired someone, that person stayed fired. He looked weak to his employees, and he would never look weak to them again."

On Monday, June 30, Board Field Attorney Moreno arrived at the Blatty plant to run the election. With three hundred employees on the voting eligibility list sent by Blatty to the NLRB, Field Attorney Moreno brought a Field Examiner to help her. They set up three polling booths in the employee lunch area. Voting would take place for two hours from ten-thirty to twelve-thirty that day.

The union picked three employee observers and Blatty picked three employee observers to stay in the voting area, challenge any employee not on the voter eligibility list, and report any irregularities during the election. Zellman chose Durand and production employees Arnie Byork and Eduardo Garcia as union observers. Blatty chose Rick Kruger and two of Kruger’s friends. Durand and Kruger glared at each other throughout the election but kept their respective mouths shut.

Except for the ominous crashing of thunder outside, the two-hour election went off without incident. At twelve-thirty, Field Attorney Moreno closed the polling places, sealed up the ballot boxes in the presence of the observers, and left with the Field Examiner to eat off the premises, keeping the ballot boxes in her possession. At one-thirty, after the employee lunch period, Moreno and the Field Examiner returned to the lunch area along with the three union observers and three company observers to count the ballots.

Breaking open the ballot boxes, Moreno counted the ballots in the presence of all the observers. Of the three hundred and seven employees on the voter eligibility list, two hundred and seventy-five showed up to vote. Twenty-seven employees were challenged during the election by either union or employer observers and had their ballots placed and sealed in challenged ballot envelopes and not counted. Of the remaining two hundred and forty-nine ballots counted, two hundred and seven were for the union and forty-two voted no union.

A minute or two later, Zellman entered the lunch area. Durand told him they’d kicked Blatty’s ass.

Then Blatty entered the lunch area with Plant Manager Lindquist and Personnel Director Rick Olson. A less than dynamic individual in his early thirties, Olson expected the result. Attorney Lester Bernstein was also there and was not surprised by the outcome.

Hearing the final tally, a furious Blatty cornered Bernstein, What the hell you gonna do about overturning this election?

There’s nothing to do, Bernstein said. I talked to the observers. Nothing improper happened. You just got shitcanned.

You tell me what you need to file an appeal, Blatty exclaimed. I’ll round up the people you need to say what we have to say.

Sorry, Mr. Blatty, Bernstein replied, we don’t work that way.

You son of a bitch, Blatty yelled at Bernstein, you and your whole goddamn firm. You blew this election with those stupid speeches you people wrote. Bernstein did not wait around to hear any more. Rushing out of the plant to his Mercedes, Bernstein drove back to his Milwaukee office.

Then Blatty turned on Lindquist. Bernie, you stupid idiot, you lost this election for me. You read those speeches like a walking dead man. You didn’t scare those stupid bastards; you put them to sleep.

Walking up to Blatty, Zellman exclaimed, The election’s over Mr. Blatty. It’s time we put all the animosity behind us, sit down like adults, and work out a contract for these people.

Go to hell you son of a bitch, Blatty yelled at Zellman. It will be a cold day in hell before I talk to you union goons, Blatty stormed out of the lunch area.

Durand ducked into the men’s room, pulled out his cell phone, and called Mulrooney. We’re leading at half time. Thought you should know as soon as possible.

Part Two

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The Negotiations

Chapter 1

July 15—A Victory Celebration

Tuesday morning, July 15, senior labor partner Ursula von Seydlitz planned to meet with Quinton Stoddamyer, her firm’s last remaining junior labor partner, to discuss landing an important new client, Sheldon Blatty. She was trying to rebuild her firm’s labor practice after two junior labor partners and an associate had left two years earlier to form their own firm. Seydlitz had set up a meeting with Blatty for Thursday morning that week to discuss his using her firm for contract negotiations with the Amalgamated Industrial Workers.

In addition, a new labor associate, Eric Rossbach, would be joining the firm that same Thursday. Seydlitz planned to have Rossbach work with Stoddamyer on the Blatty contract negotiations, since Rossbach had four years prior experience with the National Labor Relations Board. She wanted everything to go smoothly at the upcoming Thursday meeting to land Blatty as a client, her most important client since those other labor attorneys had left her firm.

The union busting business was not what it used to be. Management attorneys and labor relations consultants had been too successful opposing unions. With unionized employees becoming a smaller and smaller percentage of the nation’s workforce, union busting attorneys were in danger of suffering the fate of the buffalo hunters of the old west. Their very success threatened to put them out of business.

Seydlitz was one of four senior partners of the downtown Chicago law firm of Pettygrew, von Seydlitz, Quinland, and Vorst, LLP. Besides the four senior partners on the letterhead, the firm had six junior partners and five associates. Its clients were mainly small to medium size businesses located within the Chicago area. According to its website, the firm’s areas of practice involved business law and litigation, including labor and employment law. It stayed away from personal injury, divorce, and criminal law.

The firm was on the seventh floor in an older high-rise office building on La Salle Street, a north-south running street in the middle the commercial and financial heart of the city. The firm was inside the Chicago Loop, that area of downtown Chicago surrounded by elevated tracks. With Chicago located on the southwest tip of Lake Michigan, its financial and commercial district was near the lake and at the middle of the city’s north-south axis. The firm was within walking distance from the Cook County Circuit Court in the Daley Center on Randolph Street, the federal courts in the Dirksen Building on Dearborn Street, and the NLRB Chicago Regional Office on La Salle.

Seydlitz, a sixty-three year old woman several inches over five feet and of slight stature, had remained a chain smoker despite her double mastectomy four years earlier She had short trimmed white hair, sharp features, and razor thin lips, the combination giving her a severe appearance that she deemed an asset for a management labor attorney. She had a rigidly self-imposed dress code, always wearing a black pantsuit and low-heeled black dress shoes. She wanted men to take her seriously as an attorney and not consider her a sex object. Her overall appearance was one of arrogance, accented by the haughty and self-assured expression on her face.

Seydlitz had one of the firm’s two corner offices, Pettygrew the other. Two of her four walls had large windows with unimpressive views of office buildings across the street. Adorning the two remaining walls were paintings and prints of various scenes of scenic Germany. The only photos on her walls were those of Graf Ludwig Wilhelm von Seydlitz. Dressed in the World War II uniform of a German SS officer, she maintained this man was her father, a man from an established family of Prussian and German nobility, a man killed in the heroic defense of the fatherland in 1945 just before she was born.

Designing her office for intimidation, Seydlitz followed the example of Italian Fascist Dictator Benito Mussolini by having her huge and ornate Rococo desk resting on a raised platform over two feet high. This way, she could always look down upon anyone seated in the uncomfortable and ornate client chairs in front of her. With the two walls of windows behind her, she sat in the corner of the room with the outside light silhouetting her behind her ornate desk.

Quinton Stoddamyer had just arrived in her office and sat uncomfortably in one of her client chairs waiting for her to speak. He was forty-one years of age, over six feet tall, and had an athletic physique. Stoddamyer cut an imposing visual figure as an aggressive trial attorney. With a square and pugnacious face, Stoddamyer substituted bullying during trial and negotiations for quickness of wit. He was the macho man, the dedicated golfer, and the avid sports fan able to hold his alcohol in any strip club or sports bar when socializing with friends. His marriage was secondary to his career and outside activities. He was a Christmas and Easter Episcopalian, but he never let religion interfere with his frequent encounters with courtesans from Chicago’s escort services.

While Stoddamyer fidgeted nervously in his client chair, Seydlitz spent fifteen minutes describing Blatty’s business operations and the man’s unhappiness with the Milwaukee law firm he had just fired. They lost the election for Blatty, Seydlitz explained. He wants us to do the negotiations. Those Milwaukee lawyers didn’t get it. We do. There’s no way Mr. Blatty will ever sign a contract with the Amalgamated Industrial Workers. Our job will be to bargain to impasse and not get caught committing unfair labor practices during contract negotiations.

This client’s in the middle of Wisconsin? Stoddamyer complained. That’s about four to five hours travel time from here one way.

I’m not driving it, you are, Seydlitz told him. You go to the first bargaining session with our new associate, Mr. Rossbach. He takes over after that and handles the preliminary bargaining sessions. You come back in the last two or three meetings only to make sure negotiations break down without a contract. Between the first and final meetings, you will supervise Mr. Rossbach’s work and advise him on negotiations. Mr. Blatty’s concerned about fees, and Mr. Rossbach can do most of the bargaining sessions at two hundred an hour instead of the four hundred and fifty we bill out for you.

‘You trust this Rossbach fellow on his own for negotiations when he’s never done this before?"

Quint, I’m more worried about you than our Mr. Rossbach. Seydlitz replied. You’ve been sloughing off these last two years since making partner. I want you ready Thursday morning to answer any question Mr. Batty throws at you. Just make sure you impress Mr. Blatty so he’s willing to pay for your being at the first and the last few meetings.

Michael Mulrooney entered Wapapatomie, Wisconsin, late Tuesday afternoon and headed for Arnie’s Steak House in the commercial center of town. He had arrived on a hot and humid Midwest day in his Cadillac Escalade for the union meeting and victory celebration. Mulrooney planned on dinner with Manny Zellman before the union meeting to discuss the meeting and the campaign against Blatty.

While Mulrooney had wanted to win big in the Blatty election, the rest of the Chicago staff felt ambivalent about the victory. The Blatty bargaining unit had only three hundred employees, and Blatty was in an isolated part of Wisconsin.

The Chicago union staff did not want to launch a comprehensive campaign against Blatty for that first contract. These comprehensive campaigns were expensive and involved a wide range of union pressure tactics against employers to win elections and get contracts. The Chicago staff reserved comprehensive campaigns for only the largest employers.

Mulrooney did not agree. He believed that he could develop special community organizing campaigns and corporate campaigns to use against small and midsize employers lacking the financial recourses of larger firms to fight back against the union. He felt it was not enough to just call a strike against smaller and midsized employers and hope they would cave in and sign a contract. Something more was needed. Mulrooney would use community-organizing campaigns to build public pressure against these employers to force them to sign agreements. He would also use corporate campaigns against them as well, using weapons such as handbilling and consumer boycotts as additional pressure tactics to break down the resistance of such employers to unionization.

However, Mulrooney’s special campaign against Blatty needed something else, something extra, to keep Blatty’s plant shut down during a strike. Union supporters on strike had to get confrontational, both at the picket line and away from the picket line, to scare loyal Blatty employees away from the plant. Otherwise, Blatty could break the strike by getting employees inside the plant and continuing production.

Mulrooney planned to rack up a series of victories against smaller and midsize antiunion employers by forcing them to sign union contracts. As more and more employers signed contracts, union membership would grow. Mulrooney would advance his career within the International Union by increasing union membership. Mulrooney’s goal was to become the president of his International Union. He wanted the power and influence that would come from being the head of a powerful and successful labor organization.

Whatever combination of tactics, legal and illegal, worked to force a union contract on Blatty, Mulrooney would use to force contracts on other antiunion employers like Blatty. Mulrooney had to find the right combination of personnel to carry out these tactics. Mulrooney had also decided upon a code name for this special project against Blatty, The Guernica Project.

At five o’clock, Manny Zellman met Mulrooney at Arnie’s Steak House, and the two men grabbed a booth in the back of the restaurant. Mulrooney had a double scotch on the rocks and moved to a bottle of California Merlot with his steak dinner. Zellman, a recovered alcoholic, stuck with iced tea with his steak. To relax the up tight Zellman, Mulrooney congratulated him on the great job he did organizing the Blatty employees and winning the election. Mulrooney would use this dinner meeting and also the union meeting to assess what role Manny Zellman would play in the campaign to force a contract on Blatty.

After their orders came, Mulrooney moved on to discussing the union meeting. Tonight’s more than a victory celebration, Mulrooney said. We’re getting these people ready for the negotiations.

Mulrooney explained that he would lead off the union meeting with a motivational speech, a ‘we got to stick together’ pep talk. The employees would pick a shop steward; Mulrooney wanted Durand. They had to pick four employees for the contract negotiation committee, a committee that could tell union negotiators what was really going on inside the plant. At the union meeting, Zellman would explain the basic provisions in a union contract and the basic negotiation procedures.

Moving to the negotiations, Mulrooney told Zellman that Zellman would be lead union negotiator at most of the bargaining sessions. Mulrooney explained that he would be at the leadoff session and come in at the end of the negotiations to nail down the contract.

Then Zellman said. I called Blatty to set up our first meeting. He’s still hostile. He told me he fired his Milwaukee lawyers and was getting this Seydlitz lady from Chicago.

I thought Blatty would do that, Mulrooney replied. I sized the bastard up when Durand went back to work. We got notice in Chicago the Milwaukee firm’s out. However, by hiring Seydlitz, Blatty’s sending us a message. That woman’s a union buster. Blatty’s determined to keep fighting us. We must come out swinging that first bargaining session to show him he can’t push us around.

Maybe we should give Seydlitz a chance and see what happens the first few meetings, Zellman cautioned.

Manny, I’ve dealt with rabid antiunion bastards like Blatty before, Mulrooney replied. We come out as nice guys, Blatty and this Seydlitz bitch will stick it to us. I bet we wind up striking that bastard.

To Mulrooney, Zellman did not sound that aggressive as a negotiator as the two men discussed the Blatty bargaining sessions. If Blatty was bringing in a union buster like Seydlitz to negotiate for him, Mulrooney needed a Doberman in the contract negotiations, someone ready to verbally spring at Seydlitz and Blatty’s throats when the two got out of line. During their conversation, Mulrooney sensed that Zellman was no Doberman. Mulrooney decided that if someone had to go after both Blatty and Seydlitz, he would have to do it.

However, Mulrooney decided that he would stick with Zellman during the preliminary negotiations. Mulrooney did not have the time to make all the negotiation sessions. Zellman knew what Blatty was like, and the Blatty employees knew and trusted Zellman. Moreover, Mulrooney believed that he could control the man.

At six-thirty Tuesday evening, over two hundred Blatty workers showed up at the Friedlander Motel for the union meeting. Most of them brought their families. The union provided free pizza, salads, and soft drinks. Those wanting beer could buy it motel’s bar. A festive air prevailed throughout the room. These Blatty employees had their revenge against a hated employer by voting for the union. After the victory, they expected the union to deliver on its promises of higher wages, health insurance, and better working conditions.

The large conference room for the meeting would never win awards for elegance. No fancy murals adorned the walls. No fancy chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Scenes of scenic Wisconsin hung on the off-white walls. Florescent light fixtures recessed in the ceiling threw off a harsh white light throughout the room. Workers and family members picked up their food at long rectangular tables with folding metal legs. They ate at the same kind of tables sitting on folding metal chairs. The room was for low and moderate-income family functions and not for the affluent of Wapapatomie.

Mulrooney wore a Jimmy Hoffa outfit, an off-the-rack dark grey suit, to relate to these working class people. He strode to the podium at the front of the conference room. You did it, he yelled out. You beat Blatty. You kicked the bastard right in his fat ass. Cheers and applause broke out. All right now, Mulrooney continued, let’s give it up for Manny Zellman and Rod Durand who worked so hard to make our victory possible. Zellman and Durand joined Mulrooney at the podium while the crowd cheered.

Mulrooney launched into his motivational speech with his booming voice, using his football analogies in this Green Bay Packers and Wisconsin Badgers country. You all did great voting union last month. That’s like the Packers and the Badgers leading at half time. Winning the election’s like winning the first half of the game. We got another half to play yet, the contract negotiations. We get that first contract, and then we win the game. If you all stick together to support this union, we can beat that fat, greedy bastard and get that contract you all deserve, a contract giving you a decent living wage, health insurance for you and your kids, safe working conditions, and an end to discrimination against Mexicans and women in the plant.

The crowd rose to its feet to applaud and cheer Mulrooney, Zellman, and Durand. Durand led a chant that reverberated throughout the conference room. Union-Union-Union.

Motioning towards Durand, Mulrooney told them, "You have to pick