Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, March 23, 1991 TAG: 9103230176
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE:
DATELINE: DUBLIN LENGTH: Long
About 7,000 skilled workers have job applications on file at the Virginia Employment Commission in Radford. Most would gladly work for $5 an hour.
Volvo-GM Heavy Truck Corp. has the highest paying jobs in the valley, averaging $14.50 an hour.
Yet the United Auto Workers went on strike against the company earlier this month. With no unfair labor practices charges involved, the workers could lose their jobs.
Permanently.
"Sure it's risky, [but] the issues were that important," said Local 2069 president Joe Parah. "And our members were behind it."
Negotiators were to return to the bargaining table late Friday to wrestle with those issues, which sent 1,000 workers out on strike two weeks ago.
Officials would not comment on how long it might take to reach a tentative settlement.
Richard Stoots, secretary for the local, said workers were "upbeat" at the news that maybe, just maybe, an end was in sight.
Union members have maintained high spirits throughout the strike, the first labor walkout at the Pulaski County plant in its 17 years of operation. There's been support from community merchants, who've donated baked goods, dinners and gallons of coffee to the union.
Some members, however, were beginning to express concern this week about how they'd hold up if the strike became a prolonged ordeal.
"People are hurting for money. They'll need to go back to work," said one 14-year veteran who didn't want to be identified.
Volvo workers were earning $580 a week, on the average. Now they're eligible for $100 a week from the UAW strike fund for two hours of picket line duty.
"Us wives, it's like our jobs, too," said Pat Miller, whose husband Ray is on strike. "I've been, like, holding on. It's pressure for me, too."
The Millers have three children and a newborn to feed. But despite the possibility of lean days ahead, Pat Miller is behind the union.
"If they cut our benefits, there's no sense in even going to work," she said.
And while the work stoppage has strengthened the familial mood among union members, it's begun to strain some real family ties.
Nancy Wilson, a 15-year Volvo worker, is on strike. Every morning, at the factory entrance, she waves to her sister, a 15-year Volvo manager, who drives across the picket line.
"I laugh, and go `Boo, boo,' and she laughs and waves," Wilson said. They still get along, she said, but, "We've quit talking union."
Details of the issues that remain on the bargaining table are sketchy. Most workers - when asked why they're on strike - talk about health benefits.
Volvo spokesman Bill Brubaker said the company made no reductions in the health-care package, but wanted the union's agreement to find mutually beneficial ways to cut costs over the next few years.
Workers have said that included either going to company-appointed health-care providers, or paying 20 percent of the bill. Brubaker declined to comment on specifics.
Dane Partridge, an assistant professor of management who teaches labor relations at Virginia Tech, said that such provisions are increasingly common at union and non-union plants.
Skyrocketing costs for health insurance are putting the squeeze on companies, he said. A recent survey of U.S. companies shows the annual cost per employee rose 46 percent - to $3,200 - between 1988 to 1990.
"But it represents a concession for unions," Partridge said. "Unions fought long and hard, especially in the `70s, for an increase in health-care coverage."
Job security is another key issue to the union. Volvo has been "outsourcing," or sending work to smaller, non-union companies over the last several years, Parah said. "We feel we're losing a lot of jobs."
Volvo-GM cut production at the Dublin plant last August from 60 trucks daily to 42, then to 36 in October. A total of 383 workers were laid off, most of whom remain UAW members and are officially on strike.
Another 680 were still employed at the plant March 8 when negotiations broke off just hours before the union's three-year contract expired at midnight.
Slow sales forced the production cuts, Brubaker said, and four weeks of shutdown this year don't bode well. "The first two months have not been a good start for the plant," he said.
"We try not to let our . . . financial problems impact the three-year contract. We felt like we gave them a very generous package, a very fair package considering our financial outlook."
That package included a 3 percent pay raise for the next two years, and a 3 percent lump-sum payment in the third year.
Tech professor Partridge said that that rate is about on par with wage increases at other plants.
Historically, he said, unions strike when times are good. But when the economy falters - and unemployment lines grow longer - management often feels it has the edge.
"In a recession, a strike might be the next best thing to a layoff," Partridge said.
Volvo has said that no replacement workers would be hired during the strike. However, the plant has shifted orders to Volvo's Utah and Ohio factories.
With all the economic factors pointing to an agreement between union and management, why the strike?
Labor negotiations are intensely political, and intensely private, Partridge said, and the answer may never be clear.
The UAW International, with headquarters in Detroit, may have advocated a strike to boost its bargaining power throughout the auto-manufacturing industry, he said..
"The international doesn't want a free-for-all with each local [union] bargaining to save its own neck."
On the other hand, Partridge said, the international representatives who are part of the union's bargaining team could help bring accord to talks where the local union might be more militant.
In Detroit, Reginald McGhee, a public relations man for UAW, would not comment on how a strike in Dublin would affect the international.
"There are times when local conditions are such that a union has to act," he said.
The New River Valley workers apparently feel the same, for now.
"We can't settle for less," said the worker who didn't want to give her name. "Volvo's a big company. We're just Americans trying to keep our jobs, trying to make a living, trying to educate our kids."
by CNB