The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-10-31
On the Belt
BY WALT CARMoN.

I 0A.CU a udy. IHISG llOIlIklo lGbCI l.
turned out 400 pieces a day. When
quit we were turning out over 500
| pieces on every machine in the de-
partment Every day the production
mark was posted on a billboard.
Every week it was higher. Then one
day men came with stop watches to
time every move we made. We said
that production could not possibly go
higher. 1t went higher. The ma
chimes were speeded up. We were
speeded up. And production went up
that week. Next week. And the
week after.
We came to work tired We ruined
a lot of pieces but we learned to hide
what we ruined We had to keep
our job. The foreman followed us
to the toilet. We ate the tasteless
lunch that was rolled on wagons into
the shop and we grumbled. But we
worked. We were machines. We
dragged our tired bones home to rest
until the next day.
I HAD forgotten all of this night
mare. It's six, maybe seven, years
since l worked there. Last week /
sat in the New Playwrights' Theatre
and it all came back to me. Christ,
I'm tired" the man was telling his
wife. Damned right he was! / know
it! He couldn't think Every bone
in his body ached. He was numb all
over. "470 doors today" he said.
Tomorrow they'll boost it up" Sure
they will! | know it! Next week
they'll boost it again No wonder
the man was tired. He was on the
belt! In every department of the
factory it's the belt! Pull lever,
raise lever, press your left foot.
Pull lever, raise--sure that guy
was tired I know it! l did ia
few thousand times a day.
THE mans wife complains, "You
don't love me any more" He plays
the radio, dozes over his paper and
he's asleep before he knows it. It's
hard to love your wife when you're
tired. "You don't love me any more"
The poor sap-he loves his wife, al
right! But he's tired! The shifts
at Fords are split up. From 600 to
500, from 800 to HOO, from HOO
to 7:00-turn about every two weeks.
It's damnable. No wonder the birds
too tired to love his wife. So she
chases around with another guy.
know, I've seen that, too. It isn't
because the fellows in the shop talk
about it. The neighbors talk about
it. Everybody talks about it. 1 lived
on Labelle street, a block from the
plant. The men all worked at Ford's.
I've seen plenty.
THEY pinned ten-year tin service
medal on the man. Henry, himself,
visits the house. Pictures taken. Re-
porters. Old fashioned dances. The
poor tired guy was stunned. Some
body in the seat behind me called this
absurd. "The bunk" was what they
said.
The bunk, is it? It's a cinch for
some White Collar, with lilly white
soft hands to call this the bunk. But
ask any one of the poor 1900 stiffs
on three shifts in Highland Park that
work on production. Ask some of
The birds on "the line" the guys on
the belt! It's not the bunk! It's the
damndest, calling, insulting, low
down
A bird came to the house one day.
/ Did more than two people sleep in
one room? Were we keeping bank
account? Did we belong to church?
Was the furniture paid for? What
the he'll business is it-(easy boy,
easy! that guy came from the Plant!
Remember your jobD
As sit in the theatre it all comes
"A back to me now: maybe it's seven
years-maybe seventy. But / re-
member. "The Belt. The Plant.
Forty-five thousand ants that crawl
in and out of the ant-hill every day.
We lived on the second floor-rear
apartment. From our window we
could see the long lines of men in the
open field before the plant. They
patiently poured themselves into the
waiting street cars that dumped them
| into all parts of the city.
At night the blue-white lights gave
weird, uncanny appearance to the
plant Inside we could see the belts
from a distance. The rows upon rows
of tiny specks. All on the belt!
Turning out production. Turning out
Fords. Turning out millions. 1t all
came back to me as l sat in the
.heatre.
A SCHOOLMATE of mine is a doc
IA tor in Detroit. "If you don't want
J to be in wooden overcoat soon," he
said, you'll get off the jobw That
wasn't SO funny. "But l need another
| Job" "That's your funeral. Do
anything-get out of It'll" My friend
tho doctor has lived in Detroit for
Years. wish he could see the belt.
I wish AS thousand men on the belt
could see "The Belt" I know some
| dow enough nonp1a will ha intarncfad