The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1934-04-10
By JOHN L. SPIvAK

FRESNO, Call had al
ways thought that the shacks
in which Negro and white
share troopers live in the
deep South were the last
word in squalor, misery and de-
graduation. I shall never think that
again, for I have seen the homes"
in which migratory workers live in
California
It Is simply incredible that human
beings live in these filthy. disease
generating shscks while shaving in
the fields for a few cents a day.
I can understand why Communist
organizers are making Roadway
among them. You have nothing
to lose but your chains" is more
than merely q slogan here. They
literally have nothing else to lose
not even their lives. And they feel
it If they do not know it, and once
they get q little power into their
hands, as when they are organized
in a strike, it goes to their heads.
ALI the misery Of their lives, all
those wears Of back breaking toll.
of hunger and sickness-it is hard
to keep your head when you feel
that you have union, that you've
got strength and the man who has
crushed you is helpless In your
combined strength. That Is why
the greatest difficulty Communist
organizers have with them is to
keep them from acts of violence
especially the Mexicans. Once these
organized Mexican migratory work
ers feel their strength. their whole
tendency Is to battle forward with
bitter opposition to any kind Of
compromise which their leaders
might suggest.
I visited seven migratory workers
camps in the San Joaquin Valley
and they vary slightly, chiefly in
the number Of homes" So dread
full are they that the white worker,
the recent addition to the migratory
class since the depression, avoids
them whenever possible. # the
white worker can possibly scrape up
enough money for q tent for him
self and his family before he takes
to the road, he does 50 and thus
avoids the homes" farmers built to
house them.
I TALKED with workers who start
l ed out like that, but they have
been on the road now for two years.
Their tents are worn out. Some
are gone and they never earned
enough to buy new ones. They
were driven into camp life and it
is only matter of time before
all migratory workers who still have
semblance Of self respect and de-
sire Of cleanliness, will be lost with
the rest Of the hundred thousand
who wander the California Valleys
unless through organization they
can change them.
The 'home" is an clubhouse. That
Is the only word to describe 1t. It
Is from six to eight times the size
of the common clubhouse, built of
plain boards. Sometimes there is
wooden floor and Just as often
there is nothing but the bare
ground. The clubhouse Is old The
boards are dried by years Of semi
tropical sun. Inside, it is some
times divided in two by wooden
partition extending across part OF
the room. Over this partition is a
lone electric light and in every
camp I've been this bulb was thick
ly covered with dust. It is rarely
used, for the farmer charges the
worker Is cents a week for the light
and workers do not earn enough
to be able TO afford the rs cents
expenditure. So they live in dark
ness when the days work is done.
When a migratory worker comes
upon the scene where he is to work
harvesting the crop, the clubhouse
Is bare. Nothing is supplied not
even wood burning stove. so the
worker can cook his meals. The
family that wants to eat anything
hot must carry its own stove. if it
can pick one up somewhere. Moth
ing is supplied by the farmer ex-
cept the bare boards. Whatever
furnishings" you find In these out
houses is the workers. He carries
it with him in his rafting car
wherever he goes-to the cotton
fields, the pea fields, the grape
f1elds-the whole long weary round
of trudging from farm to farm for
a few days or a few weeks work
to keep from starving.
Perhaps these workers once had
furnishings, but more often they
picked them up in Junk yards. got
them from charities or bought them
for few pennies. And invariably
the furnishings consist of a few
incredibly filthy blankets. a few
boxes for chairs and a table or