News of the Melville House “Live Book” project on the takeover of the Republic Doors and Windows factory appeared in a news report from Publishers Weekly last Friday, and was covered by techno-blogs interested in the idea of using a blog to create a book “live.” Then the story was picked up as an Associated Press wire report, which in turn was picked up by news outlets around the world (see here and here).

Meanwhile, workers from the plant met yesterday for a fundraiser for the Windows of Opportunity Fund, a support group meant to supplement the severance payout from Bank of America and for an attempt to keep the factory open. Kari Lydersen went to the gathering, and uses it as a springboard to go back and tell the story from the beginning — where she uncovers some surprising and previously unreported facts behind the situation that led to the takeover for our fifth installment of Revolt on Goose Island ….

UE Local president Armando Robles, left, and Republic workers listen as activist Orlando Sepulveda plays protest songs at a Dec 14 fundraiser for the Windows of Opportunity fund. (photo: Kari Lydersen)

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2008 — Republic Windows workers huddled in a group around UE Local 1110 president Armando Robles as they made a hasty collective decision of the type they have gained much experience with over the past nine days.

Immigrant workers from several other recently shuttered factories and various community supporters and activists milled around, sipping coffee and soda after a successful fundraiser for the “Windows of Opportunity” trust fund started to keep the factory open. Then Robles called out for Reverend Jose Landaverde, saying the workers had an announcement to make.

“We voted to give the money to the church,” he said, handing a chunky roll of bills totaling $270 worth of small donations to Landaverde. “This church is fighting for undocumented people, fighting for social justice. We’ve received support from many places we’ve visited, so we want to give back.”

A cheer went up, and some broke into a verse of “Solidarity Forever.”

“These are the moments that make your skin tingle!” exclaimed Jorge Mujica, a former journalist and veteran of independent labor movements in Mexico who now organizes for immigrants rights in Chicago.

Landaverde, who came to the U.S. as a refugee from civil war in his native El Salvador that killed both his parents, tried to return the money. But Armando wouldn’t take it. The gesture was an example of the larger symbolism which Republic workers and the community as a whole have ascribed to their victory and ongoing struggle. It is not only about getting the Republic workers the severance and vacation pay owed them, and it is not even only about keeping the factory open. It is all part of a broader fight for workers’ rights and empowerment during an economic crisis which has raised the stakes for all concerned.

“The fight doesn’t end with us being paid, this is the start of a movement,” declared Robles during the fundraiser. “The government and banks are allowing our jobs to be sent to China. Here they pay $8 an hour, so they send the jobs to Mexico, where they pay $8 a day. Then they send the jobs to China, where they pay eight cents an hour. This country is called a super power, but the way things are going it will end up as a third world country.”

Another Republic worker, Apolinar Cabrera, took the floor with his curly-haired young son in tow. “People are afraid, but it’s time to change this fear by fighting, by struggling,” he said. “We have to continue.”

The church itself is an example of these struggles. Landaverde moved his “mission,” as he calls it, into this space 15 days ago because his former church couldn’t handle the crowds drawn by his social justice message. The space was until recently occupied by a shoe and clothing store, which like many small businesses on this commercial strip was bankrupted in recent months. “The owner said he was paying staff $500 a day and only bringing in $200 in sales,” explained Landaverde. “He had all this product he couldn’t sell. That’s how we ended up moving in here.”

On the block just across the street, there are five recently vacated storefronts with For Rent signs. Colorful, raucous 26th Street is known as the second most lucrative commercial strip in the city of Chicago, after tony Michigan Avenue downtown. It is the heart of the Latino community, so the vacant spaces where taquerias, beauty parlors, dollar stores and shoe stores used to be symbolize the financial strain this community as a whole is feeling — including the more than 100 Latino immigrant workers laid off from Republic.

While Republic workers received a national spotlight because of their actions, there are hundreds or even thousands of workers in a similar situation just in Chicago. The fundraiser drew workers from other recently closed factories, including the packaging company Olmarc. The Olmarc workers were laid off several months ago with promises of severance and accrued vacation pay, but the money never materialized. The two unions representing them — known as corrupt and company-aligned — have done nothing to advocate for them, they say. So they are here hoping for inspiration and support from the Republic workers and local labor rights groups.

“The struggle with Republic inspired so many workers that they have to take a stand,” said Landaverde. “The situation is going to get even worse, you see how many businesses have closed just on this block. The Republic workers have given an example that we can denounce injustice. They have shown us that we can stand up for our rights. When one group of workers triumphs, all workers triumph.”

How it All Began

Republic Windows and Doors, which formed in 1965, moved to its Goose Island location in 1998. Goose Island is a hive of industry in the middle of the Chicago River. It is intersected by Division Street, with a bridge on the east leading into the infamous Cabrini Green public housing project (now largely redeveloped as “mixed income housing”), and a bridge on the west heading toward the trendy, gentrified neighborhood of Wicker Park.

The building housing the company is actually owned by the William Wrigley Jr. company, which has closed its own plants in the past few years, in 2005 shutting down a 94-year-old gum factory on Chicago’s south side and laying off 600 workers.

In 2002 the Republic Windows logged its first loss ever, according to a company statement. Over a decade the city of Chicago awarded the company about $10 million in Tax Increment Financing (TIF) funds, a controversial federal program wherein property taxes above a certain level are diverted to development, with the intention of revitalizing “blighted areas.” In Chicago however some of the city’s wealthiest and most vibrant areas – far from “blighted” — have been designated TIF zones, in what critics see as a blatant way to give handouts to developers and in many cases to speed gentrification.

In July 2006, Richard Gillman, then a minority shareholder, put in $2.2 million of his personal funds to buy out the others, becoming sole owner of the plant and hiring a new Chief Operating Officer.

A statement from the company lauds the new regime’s performance, and blames financial troubles on the economic crisis:

“Despite inheriting a company bloated with overhead and lacking any type of manufacturing discipline and/or productivity, the company makes significant improvements only to encounter an unprecedented decline in new home construction, which led to a decline of company sales to new construction of 80%. This placed the company in the impossible position of not having the ability to further reduce fixed costs, coupled with severe constrictions in the capital debt markets and an unwillingness of the current debt holder (Bank of America) to continue funding the operations.”

Beginning in early 2007, Chase Capital Corp., a subsidiary of JPMorgan Chase & Co., invested and lent $12 million to Republic, becoming a minority owner. But the company was still struggling, and Bank of America, its major lender, declined to extend more credit. Gillman decided the company needed to close.

The company says it made good faith efforts starting in October to wind down production, serve WARN notices and cease operations in January 2009, but Bank of America refused to accept these terms. And the company says on Nov. 25 it asked Bank of America to be allowed to pay workers for their vacation time, but the bank refused.

Meanwhile, despite the fact that Republic was in such dire financial straits, the Gillman family on November 18 incorporated a new company, Echo Windows & Doors LLC, which on Dec. 4 — the day before Republic closed — bought a window and door factory called TRACO (Three Rivers Aluminum Company) in Red Oak, western Iowa, with about 50 non-union employees. Echo officials reportedly told workers at the TRACO plant to expect a doubling of the workforce and increased production.

One logical explanation for this purchase would be the owners wanted to ditch the union at Republic and shift production to the TRACO plant. That would explain the equipment workers said they saw being moved out in late November. And the union had been a thorn in the company’s side. The United Electrical, Radio and Machine Workers of America, more commonly known as the UE, are a non-AFL-CIO union with a history of activism and militancy which grew out of the labor struggles of the 1930s. Their Chicago headquarters, on union row on Ashland Avenue just west of downtown, are blanketed in murals showing workers — with square shoulders and determined faces, Diego Rivera style — engaged in noble acts of laboring, manufacturing and picketing. A cubist mural on an outside brick wall pays tribute to their relationship with the FAT, Mexico’s main independent union. The union hall is the site of frequent progressive events and celebrations for a wide range of community groups and activist organizations.

The UE won the right to represent Republic workers in 2004, after a battle to oust the Central States Joint Board union which was widely viewed as corrupt and a “company union” representing the owners’ interests rather than the workers. (This is the same union representing the laid-off Olmarc workers who attended the church fundraiser.) In early 2008, UE was involved in contract negotiations with Republic which were expected to be highly contentious. C.J. Hawking, a reverend who works with the national group Interfaith Worker Justice, remembers getting a call from UE organizers back then saying they might need solidarity from the faith community in their negotiations. But it turned out the workers handled it just fine on their own, Hawking remembers. “We were just beginning to formulate what it was clergy could do to help. But before we could get it off ground, the workers stormed management’s office and got the contract.”

So when workers were called to the cafeteria on Tues. Dec. 2 and told the factory would close on Friday, they were shocked, angry and anxious…but also ready to swing into action. Since company officials blamed the closing on the economic crisis and Bank of America’s refusal to extend credit, the next afternoon they held a picket outside Bank of America’s downtown headquarters. With her clerical collar on, Hawking led a prayer for justice for the workers as cab horns blared and pedestrians hurried by with hoods drawn tight against the cold. After Hawking’s prayer, UE organizer Mark Meinster approached Hawking and told her that civil disobedience might be in the works.

“He said we’re thinking of doing an occupation Friday morning when the workers go and pick up their last checks,” she said. “We talked about accessibility, how to get food into the plant, how management would react.”

But she told Meinster, “Friday’s such a horrible day to get media.”

That’s when the plant is closing, Meinster responded, we don’t have a choice.

Hawking didn’t know if she could rally clergy for support on such short notice. She called back on Thursday. “They said they were still discussing things, and weren’t sure what they were going to do, but ‘We’ll call you if we need you.’”

As it turned out, the “union leadership took the bull by the horns,” in Hawking’s words. Workers voted to occupy the plant.

At the church fundraiser on Dec. 14, Meinster credited workers for their bold decision. “What Republic workers are going through, everyone is going through,” he said. “The difference is you stood up and did something about it. Our union didn’t stand in the way, we gave advice, support and encouragement and didn’t say ‘You can’t do this because it’s illegal.’”

Company officials did not want to make a scene or damage the property, so they agreed the workers would not be forcibly removed so long as only workers and union staff were on the shop floor and they kept things clean and secure.

Thus, the sit-in began. The news spread like wildfire through the city.

That evening, in an old-fashioned ballroom on the second floor of a historic building in the northwest side Logan Square neighborhood, people were sitting at folding tables eating chile rellenos, beans and rice at a benefit for the Latino Union, a grassroots advocacy group. As the benefit was winding down and a Norteno band setting up their instruments for a bash later that night, immigrant and labor rights activists Claudia and Jerry Mead Lucero climbed onto the stage to announce the occupation. People clapped and turned to their tablemates in surprise and confusion. Occupying the factory? What did that actually mean? “This hasn’t happened since the 1930s!” was a common refrain.

C.J. Hawking was at a gala for the Illinois Labor History Society at a downtown hotel titled appropriately “A New Deal for Workers: Past, Present, Future” when she got a call saying not only had the workers been occupying the plant all day, but they had just voted to stay put until they got the money owed them. She jumped up to the mic to share the news. “Here you have a roomful of labor historians, and labor history is being made,” she said. “There was a collective gasp of excitement.

A solidarity rally was called for noon the next day, and a flurry of emails and text messages went out. Despite bone-chilling cold, the rally was a smashing success.

“It’s pretty incredible, with less than 15 hours notice about 250 people came,” said Hawking.

Hawking’s colleague Adam Kader, director of the worker center affiliated with Interfaith Worker Justice, was thrilled.

He had particular interest since he is currently supporting workers who were faced with a very similar situation in 2005, when the Heinemann bakery that employed them closed abruptly without giving them the notice or severance pay required under WARN. One hundred of the 120 workers settled out of court for “way less than they were owed,” according to Kader. Twenty of them took their cases to court, with the aid of Interfaith Worker Justice, and received judgments in the range of the $8,000 to $16,000 each which they are owed. But they still haven’t seen the money and are tied up in legal proceedings.

“I don’t know how much longer they can drag that out, perhaps indefinitely,” said Kader of Heinemann officials. “Clearly the WARN Act is not enforced. The Republic workers would not have seen the money if they had not occupied the factory. They would be filing a lawsuit taking five years like our Heinemann workers.”

Workers centers like the one Kader directs are a growing movement that work outside the traditional union structure and use various strategies including direct action and community solidarity to gain workers’ rights. He sees the factory occupation as “a face of the labor movement we haven’t seen in years.”

“It’s a little remarkable and extraordinary to see this kind of tactic for a union today,” he said. “We have seen it recently, but from other types of groups” — like farm workers of the Coalition of Immokalee Workers in southern Florida and striking New York taxi drivers — “using more community-based movements as opposed to traditional union tactics.”

He admires how UE leadership are not afraid to take risks.

“They were so determined because they were so pissed. When we talk to unions about tactics, it’s often a matter of, ‘We’ll have to vet that through our attorneys.’ And of course then the answer is always no, you can’t do that. The UE will go in and do it, and then call their attorneys and tell them what they’ve done.”

Jorge Mujica, who has analyzed the labor movement as both a participant and journalist, thinks the occupation could energize the flailing U.S. union movement as a whole.

“This is what unions need to revitalize their struggle in this country,” he said, noting how traditionally conservative unions like the Operating Engineers and Laborers came out in force to support the UE. “Fortunately we’re in a climate now where everyone knows big companies are wasting money, we have the image of the automakers flying to DC in their private jets to ask for a bailout. The climate is, ‘workers are right.’ So this is the time for everyone to do this. Your factory is closing? Occupy it and give us a call.”

• Read Part One: Witness to the Revolt
• Read Part Two: Out of the Spotlight
• Read Part Three: Vicotry, or What?
• Read Part Four: The Workers Speak