March 14th, 2009

I am posting a day early here, because the events of tomorrow, I know I will be busy.

1920, March 14th - my father was born, I look back on his life. He was a man true to his word, if my Dad thought he was right he would fight for it. My Dad was a plumber/pipefitter instrumental in forming UA238 located in northern British Columbia. The years in his union, proved not only educational for him but for his wife and children.

After a lengthy illness, my Dad was gainfully searching for work to provide for his family. He was on the 'list' at the local union hall. It was to no avail. On a Tuesday morning, my Mom went off to happily join up with her bowling league. As soon as she made her departure, my Dad went to the tool shed. He made a sign out of plywood - I cannot recall the words he painted - something like...LU On Strike...Unfair. He took it down to the union hall and began he one man picketed line.

My brother and I came home from school to make our own lunch. The radio was always on...we hear on the 1 o'clock newsmaker of the hour is *8s0 I3x83-+. My brother looked at me, I shooked my head. We headed off back to school.

My Mom came home from her bowling to a ringing telephone, a strike sign sitting just outside the back door. Remember, we are northern British Columbia. Vancouver was calling - my Mom had no idea what my Dad had done.

My Dad had struck his own union.

As I looked back on it; I think to myself - My Dad, you had strength unknown to others.

Years later, my Dad telephoned me asking me to contact his union office. He wanted the new stickers and to let it be know he was still alive. I did. I spoke with several gentlemen that I am sure thought they were the big door prize of the UA. One kind soul knew of my Dad, he said he would send me stickers, the new of the UA Magazine, a new pin.

I received a special delivery parcel, Monday morning from the UA Washington - the international union.

Unfortunately, my Dad had already passed away. I read everything they sent - it was like a rap sheet for all the sh*t my Dad caused his union.

I took his union pin, his new stickers and a poem. I placed all in the left shirt pocket and said goodbye.

Happy 89 Birthday, Dad!
Love Your Daughter