Man of Peace

Ever since he got around aging Dan Tobin and became the real ruler of the Teamsters Union, Seattle's tough, pale-eyed Dave Beck has been remolding the A.F.L.'s biggest labor group to suit his fancy. Last week in Manhattan, Beck announced what he proposed to do with his juggernaut when he gets it well-streamlined. He was going to start a coast-to-coast organizing roundup that would make other labor-recruiting drives look like ballet tryouts.

Teamsters in all U.S. cities will simultaneously set out to double the union's membership from 1,000,000 to 2,000,000. They will go after new members in the automotive trades, bakeries, the beverage industry, building and construction, canneries, dairies, the taxicab and short-haul bus fields, general hauling, sales drivers, the produce field, warehouses and driveaway and truck-away enterprises.

With the air of a man about to pluck a ripe plum, Beck also made a soft-voiced announcement of his plans for New York City. The teamsters, he said, would concentrate on department-store warehousemen, but would also claim jurisdiction over the big city's brewery workers.

Beck added blandly that he was a "man of peace," and had no desire to revert to "the law of the jungle." He did not expect that other unions would "infringe on our jurisdiction." But he said, "if a union that should stick to clerks tries to get our warehousemen (a remark directed at the powerful C.I.O. Amalgamated Clothing Workers), we'll step in and organize the whole store to protect ourselves."

After a long period of winter hibernation, John L. Lewis issued forth to make a proud pronouncement: in 20 months the United Mine Workers' Welfare and Retirement Fund (now fed by a 20-c- rake-off on every ton of coal mined) had paid out $68 million. Among other things, the fund had put 11,689 retired miners on $100-a-month pensions.

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