By Michelle Dunlop
Herald Writer
Thirty-five days ago, the Machinists left their jobs building commercial jets for the Boeing Co. and hit the picket lines.
At nearly 100 Boeing gates around the region, union members stand watch -- in the cold hours before dawn, under a bright afternoon sun and amid rain and gray. Each of the 27,000 striking Machinists has a story to tell, along with a reason for sacrificing some paychecks.
For Boeing, the strike is about cost, control and reputation. The aerospace giant could be losing as much as $100 million daily in deferred profits. It refuses to give in on outsourcing, a strategy Boeing says keeps the company competitive. And the strike, the company said, is costing Boeing its reputation as a reliable supplier.
Late Wednesday, leaders for Boeing and the union agreed to resume contract discussions. On picket lines in Everett, union members are cautiously optimistic that the two sides can reach an agreement. Until then, the Machinists will remain at their posts.
What's it like to walk the line?
The Herald spent hours doing just that in Everett while listening to and photographing members of the Machinists union. Here are their stories.
24 hours a day
The light from the Boeing Co. sign shines brightly at 3:45 on a Monday morning. But it's not the factory that's bustling, it's the union hall across the street.
With coffee mugs and lawn chairs in hand, the women and men who normally would assemble Boeing aircraft drift into the union hall to report for picket duty. The Machinists went out on strike against Boeing on Sept. 6 after voting down the company's contract offer. The International Association of Machinists and Aerospace Workers posts strikers at each Boeing gate, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
On Seaway Boulevard, eight Machinists gather on the east side. At one end of the line hangs a handwritten sign: Now or Never Strike. A fire roars in a burn barrel with the letters IAM carved into the side.
Shortly after the 4 a.m. shift begins, a union van arrives with coffee, hot soup and doughnuts.
Pam Martin grabs a cup of soup and cozies up to the fire. The Snohomish resident works in the 767 supplies store. This is her fourth strike.
"I'm out here fighting for the new guy," she said.
It won't be long before Martin retires. But Boeing's contract doesn't give her the security she craves, nor does it guarantee jobs for the younger generation.
The strike couldn't come at a worse time for Martin, who not only bought a new house earlier this year but also had to replace a car totaled by an uninsured motorist. But, like many longtime Machinists, Martin did her best to prepare for a strike.
A few feet from Martin, Ngechsim Ouk checks the time on her cell phone. It's 4:30 a.m., and the 25-year old is dressed for the cold with layers of jackets and a stocking cap. Ouk has worked at Boeing less than two years on the 747 line. She put away overtime earnings to save up for the strike. And Ouk says she's making the most of her time off -- taking extra courses at Everett Community College.
Talk inevitably turns to speculation on how long the strike will last and which side will give. Later, on Wednesday night, the union and the company agreed to start meeting with a mediator to see if an agreement can be reached.
Ricky Carter, 47, doesn't think Boeing would want both its Machinists union and its engineers union striking at the same time. The engineers' contract expires Dec. 1.
Whenever the strike ends, Carter expects there will be plenty of overtime. But, he said, Machinists never make up the income they lose during a strike.
Rays of sunlight begin to streak across the sky, shutting off the street lights. Honking from passing cars, buses and semi trucks has heightened.
"There are a lot of people coming in now," Martin said.
With half an hour left in the shift, Glenn Cunningham arrives early for the next rotation. Cunningham was laid off from a tech company after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. His job at Boeing is his first full-time employment since then. He saw one pay period before the strike began.
"I've learned to live on next to nothing," he said.
Sticking together
Drive by the picketers outside the Machinists hall between 8 a.m. and noon and you're likely to see Cezar Tiongco.
"I'll keep coming out here as long as it takes," said Tiongco, who puts in a four-hour shift on the line daily.
Arguably the most visible spot for picketing, the gate outside the union hall also is the most self-sufficient. There are a couple of grills under the back canopy as well as a solid supply of food. By 9:30 a.m. Monday, at least one Machinist volunteers to cook up some hot dogs.
Tiongco, who has been at Boeing seven years, would like the strike to end soon.
"If we can't get it this time with 87 percent (voting to strike), we can't get it anytime," he said.
Tiongco doesn't agree with Boeing's outsourcing strategy. He says the quality of those assemblies don't meet expectations and parts arrive late.
"It's a waste of money," he said. "They think they save a lot of money … but you've got to maintain the quality."
A light drizzle doesn't faze the Machinists.
Max Cordova sees the strike as emblematic for labor unions around the country. When he was laid off by Boeing a few years ago, Cordova went to work for one of its suppliers. Cordova said he had far more responsibility but worse benefits and pay. That's why he believes the union is important.
"It's like bodybuilding; each time you're out makes you that much stronger next time around," Cordova said.
Between strikes and layoffs, Machinist Ronald Mead has seen his share of rounds at Boeing. But even with nearly 20 years of experience, he's worried about layoffs. The healthy order backlog doesn't ease his concerns.
"We see different types of jobs, people who get laid off and their jobs never come back," he said.
While job security is important for all, Mead notes that contract issues affect people differently. "You can't tell the younger folks they can't have a pay raise. And you can't tell the older folks they can't get a pension," Mead said. "Everyone has to stick together."
Everybody struggles
On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, Olivia Smolen and Laurie Ekenman hold strike signs up the road from the union hall. Seven Machinists have been assigned to picket from noon to 4 p.m. near the Employment Resource Center, where Boeing and state workers train, screen and teach future Machinists.
Smolen said she's standing up for better medical benefits, even though she has access to care outside her Boeing health insurance. She had hoped a strike would be avoided and found it difficult to save for one. Smolen already has sent letters to creditors, hoping for a reprieve while on strike.
"I'm going to have to be looking for a (temporary) job here pretty soon," she said.
Manzar Aziz walks along the sidewalk about 25 feet from Smolen and Ekenmen. He belonged to a similar union in California where he worked on Boeing C-17s. Aziz joined the Machinists when he moved his family to Everett this year.
Aziz read through the offer thoroughly, checking both Boeing and the union's Web sites, before voting to strike.
"I noticed my medical was going to go up, so I went with the union," he said.
Down at the gate near Boeing's recreation center that same afternoon, another eight Machinists serve on picket duty. Larry Oliver sits holding a strike sign and sipping from a Big Gulp cup. He sports a 787 Dreamliner cap.
Oliver said he's taken turns performing different strike jobs, such as driving the shuttle. But he prefers the picket line because it gives him the chance to get to know other Machinists.
"Everybody's struggling, but we've got the same struggles," he said.
Party central
Gate 5 tucked away near the train tracks hosts a dozen Machinists from 4 to 8 p.m. on a recent Tuesday. The sun dips lower in the sky and the flames in the barrel grow higher. The picket line sees few visitors save for passengers zooming by on the Sounder. It's an ideal place for a party.
But it's the isolation, the view of Puget Sound and fresh air that draws Marshall Thompson to the gate. Thompson, a 23-year Boeing employee, reclines in a lawn chair while Kelly Flannary talks incessantly about the perks for Boeing executives.
"We're the ones who build the planes," Flannary said. "The company could get by without them (executives), but they couldn't deliver planes without us."
This gets nods and murmurs of agreement from those gathered near the fire. Thompson doesn't seem troubled by perks. But he does think Boeing should sweeten its retirement offering.
Away from the group, three Machinists hover around the tailgate of a pickup. They may be the youngest of the bunch, but Boeing runs in their blood.
Greg McDaniel is a fourth-generation Boeing employee, while Ken Gilbert and Ian Haynes are second-generation workers. Each have been at Boeing about two years. Despite logging roughly 800 hours of overtime this year, the new Machinists say the strike is wearing on them financially.
"When you make as little as we do, it's hard to save up," McDaniel said.
That's one reason the three opposed Boeing's contract. Although the company planned to boost starting wages, it put workers such as McDaniel, Gilbert and Haynes in an awkward position: New employees could start out at the same rate of pay that they make after two years.
Still, they're looking forward to seeing the strike end.
"I miss the work," Gilbert said.
'There goes a scab'
Boeing's massive buildings on Seaway Boulevard light up the night sky. But few cars remain in the parking lot at 10 p.m.
Buses and delivery truck drivers honk and wave at three Machinists standing watch on the corner near the signal lights.
Jose Rivera, Randy Samuelson and Mike Neiffer have 70 years of combined experience. These Machinists have seen the union and the company clash over the years. They take exception to people outside Boeing who categorize union members as greedy and note the hefty bonuses the company has offered.
"We weren't asking for a bonus," Rivera said.
Samuelson, who wears a Skagit Speedway hat, nods in agreement.
"I'd rather have a general wage increase. That sticks with you," Samuelson said.
The Machinists say increases in medical costs would have eaten up the proposed wage increases. And, they note, the Machinists didn't receive wage increases in the last two contracts.
"We've sacrificed a lot in the last couple of contracts," Rivera said.
Shortly after 11 p.m., a raccoon crawls out from behind the Boeing sign and scurries across the office driveway.
"There goes a scab," Rivera said with a laugh.
The Machinists don't think the strike has dragged on long enough to drive many to cross the picket lines and earn the scab title. None of the three has needed to take on temporary employment.
As the clock edges toward midnight, Rivera, a 787 static test worker, wants to talk about the "coolest thing" the other Machinists have done in their employment at Boeing. For him, it's riding on a customer test flight. The airline pilots pushed the new jet to its limits in speed and maneuvering. And Rivera liked seeing what it could do.
For Neiffer, his best Boeing moment came even before he started working for the company when his grandfather took him on a tour of the first 747 jumbo jet built here 40 years ago.
"He just waved his ID and they let us in," Neiffer said. "That doesn't happen anymore."
The loneliest number
Big Daddy arrived at the picket line at 12:45 a.m.
Skip Thompson first reported to the Machinists hall and was supposed to be at another gate. But Gate 10 off the Speedway was going to be without a picketer for the first four hours of a Friday morning. The former Teamster doesn't mind the change.
Three Machinists from the previous shift remain at the gate. The union's shuttle van hasn't come by to pick them up and take them to the hall.
At 1 a.m., a pickup pulls up near the Machinists' barrel. Paul Richards jumps out and delivers firewood. He says there's a shortage of shuttle drivers. He leaves and is back soon with a van.
The Machinists from the 8 p.m. to midnight shift hesitate. They're worried about leaving Thompson.
"That's OK -- tell them Big Daddy is here all alone," Thompson said, waving them on.
Thompson planned to catch up with coworkers the next day for breakfast. He said he's encouraged by the number of young workers in the last few years.
"They look like babies," he said. "Then, you look in the mirror and realize you're an old poop."
Thompson, who is married but has no children, says he and his wife are doing fine despite the strike. "My worries really go to the single parents, the single-income families, during a strike," Thompson said.
A jet takes off from Paine Field across the street. Almost on cue, the wind picks up.
"We would just as soon be going to work Monday," Thompson said.
