'Almost Everyone Is the Victim'

Perhaps the most striking characteristic of America's 184,000 coal miners is their intense loyalty to one another and their union. Some people explain that loyalty as an aboveground extension of the close teamwork that the miners must practice in dangerous subterranean mines; others say it is a result of facing common enemies--the coal companies and the Federal Government. Whatever the reason, when one union local walks off the job, others usually follow in sympathy.

Last week that was certainly the case. A wildcat strike that started at a Cedar Coal Co. mine at Cabin Creek, W. Va., suddenly spread to include all of the state's 60,000 miners, plus 10,000 of their fellows in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Virginia and Colorado. The miners had lost a total of $24 million in wages by week's end, and U.S. coal output had fallen by 6 million tons, worth $150 million.

A relatively trivial matter triggered the massive walkout. This spring Local 1759 of the United Mine Workers wanted an office that was not covered by their contract advertised so it could be filled by a union applicant. After management disagreed, an arbitrator was brought in and eventually ruled against the union. The angry miners first tried to reverse that ruling in federal court. When the court delayed, they protested with their only remaining weapon--an illegal wildcat.

Heavy Hand. Cedar Coal, a unit of American Electric Power Co., then got a federal court to issue an injunction against the strike. When the miners ignored it, the judge fined the local $50,000, which went unpaid. At that point, miners elsewhere started to take notice. To them, the case was just another in a series in which the heavy hand of the Federal Government patted the companies and slapped the union. "When that judge gets out of the coal business, that's when we go back to work," vowed a Cabin Creek miner, and his fellows in other areas obviously agreed.

At least one coal company looked to the courts to reopen its mines. "Industrial anarchy," charged Joseph Brennan, president of the Bituminous Coal Operators Association. "Everyone is the victim, but shameful wildcats go on." In fact, only the coal companies and such coal-carrying railroads as the Chessie System and Norfolk and Western have so far been hurt. The fuel's major users--electric utilities, coke plants and steel mills--maintain 23-to 90-day stockpiles, enough to ride out a short strike.

A much more certain victim, paradoxically, is the U.M.W. itself. Every day that the wildcat walkout continues costs the union's four main health and retirement funds nearly $1 million because they get their money from royalties on coal production. One trust, which provides health benefits to the 200,000 miners who retired before 1974, is being especially hard hit. It was operating at a deficit before the strike, and now has to go deeper into debt.

U.M.W. President Arnold Miller, already under constant attack by a rival faction in his union (TIME, May 17), is sure to suffer too. He voiced sympathy for the strikes last week. But since the wildcats were unauthorized by the union, Miller also urged the miners to "return to work on the next available shift." None of the locals paid heed. That caused a Miller aide to mourn: "Coal companies and dissident miners are going to say this shows once again that Arnold can't keep the membership in line." Both union and company officials hope the strikes will soon start subsiding on their own, like wildfire.

While the coal strike spread, another costly strike moved to a resolution. Two weeks ago, more than 30,000 workers walked out of California's 78 canneries. The strike coincided with record harvests in a state that produces more than 50% of the U.S.'s canned fruits and 85% of its canned tomatoes. The walkout thus caused farmers to lay off 15,000 field workers near the peak of the picking season.

Rotting Fruit. With that kind of leverage, it is not surprising that the cannery workers last week won a hefty 32 1/2% wage and benefit increase over the next three years. By the time of the expected settlement, unfortunately, a staggering amount of food will already have rotted in the fields. Almost 15%, or $10.4 million worth, of the clingstone-peach harvest was lost. So was approximately 5%, or $9.5 million worth, of the thick-skinned tomato crop and about 30% of the total apricot harvest, valued at $4.5 million.

The strike cost California's economy $260 million. Scores of the state's small farmers say they are ruined, and will go out of business. Ultimately, consumers will probably pay in the form of higher prices for canned fruits and vegetables.

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