One Way to Settle a Strike

Back from negotiating a political settlement in Chicago, New York's Governor Nelson Rockefeller last week put his hand to some pressing business in his own state: a 25-day strike of railroad trainmen on the Long Island Railroad, the busiest U.S. commuter line. Neither labor nor management showed any sign of budging, but Rocky was in a mood to push. He summoned railroad executives, union officials, state and federal mediators. Early one morning, they trooped into his sleek, grey-carpeted Manhattan office. Rockefeller briskly ushered management and union men into different rooms and closed the doors behind them. Snapped Rocky to an aide: "This is it. They are not going home until we settle this strike."

Sweating It Out. As mediators shuffled between the two teams, Rockefeller frequently popped in on both sides to let them know that he was watching. He had also hinted that if the strike was not settled, he might recall the state legislature to ask for special powers to show the Long Island how to run a railroad. Neither side wanted that. At midmorning Rockefeller slipped away long enough to have a cyst removed from under his right eye (six stitches) at the Manhattan Eye, Ear, and Throat Hospital, came back to order ham and turkey sandwiches for all, then settled down--with dark glasses and an ice pack gracing his head--to sweat out the negotiations.

By dinnertime the gloomy-faced negotiators had reached no settlement--though they were only $25,000 apart. They begged for a break and some food, but Rocky was having none of it. Said he to his aides: "Let's keep them here till they finish." This time, he ordered no sandwiches. At 9:33 p.m., almost twelve hours after the session began. Rockefeller strode into the pressroom and, wiping his brow, announced tersely: "It's settled!" Insisted Rockefeller: "The people of New York State pay me $50,000 a year to make decisions like this, and I'll assume responsibility for any fare rise."

Undisguisedly Unhappy. Under terms of the settlement, the trainmen got their six-day week reduced to a five-day week, while continuing to get paid for seven days. In return, they agreed to take 2 1/2-c- instead of the 5.4-c- hourly wage increase won by the union throughout the industry last month, and to drop some featherbedding practices. The settlement will cost the Long Island $162,041 a year, which the road will cover by raising annual commuter fares for its 85,000 daily commuters by $1 or $2, adding to a recent $24-a-year fare increase.

Chief Union Negotiator Harold J. Pryor called the settlement "an almost complete victory." Long Island President Thomas M. Goodfellow, undisguisedly unhappy, made it clear that he was the one who had been pushed. Said he: "The settlement we made wasn't the settlement we thought should be made. But the Governor felt the effects of the strike overbalanced the cost of ending it. We accepted his recommendation." Long Island commuters, after nearly a month of overcrowded highways and desperate expedients for getting to work, seemed willing to pay a hike of less than a cent per day for the old familiar ride.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.