June.---Winter has released its icy grip, and the sun shines brightly. In the parks the benches are filling with people. Our Buford mascot, the "Baby," passed me and I hailed him. The color has faded from his face, and he looks yellow and weary. "No, most of our boys are not working yet," he said, "and we're sick of the red tape. They always tell you they need workers, but nobody really wants us. Of course, the Communists of our group have all gotten good berths. Have you heard about Bianki? You remember how he roasted them at that meeting in Belo-Ostrov? How he joined the Party and got a responsible job? The Boston sailor, remember him? Well, I met him walking on the street the other day, all dressed up in a leather suit, with a gun as big as your arm. In the Tcheka. His old business. Did you know he was a detective in Boston?" "I thought he was a sailor." "Years back. Later he served in a private sleuth agency. "Several of ou...
CHAPTER 2 California Here We Come! CONDITIONS IN THE LOS ANGELES dress industry had grown steadily worse in five months. Manufacturers generally were violating the state minimum wage of $16 a week for women, and the President's Reemployment Agreement, more often called the Blanket Code, in effect until a permanent Code of Fair Competition under the NRA could be agreed upon for the industry. An appallingly large labor turnover was deliberately fostered by the employers for their own benefit. Workers who showed any inclination to organize for selfprotection were promptly fired; and the blacklist operated relentlessly against those who dared protest. I got a close-up of this from local union leaders the morning after my arrival. Something drastic must be done within the next few weeks. The City of Angels then had about 150 dress factories, emplo...