Montana labor news., 1939-06-29
REMEMBER CHICAGO!
Reprinted from The Nation,
June 3, 1889.
By MARSHALL

June 3, 1889.
By MARGARET MARSHALL
John Mccartney, b~oilermaker and
welder, woke up at nine on Sunday
morning with the sun in his eyes.
He noticed that his wife's place was
empty and that he was very warm.
The sun was hot in the room. He
threw back the covers lazily. It
was Sunday. 1t was Memorial Day.
He took. his time about getting
dressed. Clean shirt, good trousers.
They'd be going to see his mother
and his Wife's folks. The brass bed
blazed in the sunshine; the cheap
mirror over the dresser threw back
his reflection with FURNISHED clarity.
The kitchen, on the other side of
the house, was dark and cool. Marian
had heard him stirring and was get
ting his breakfast ready for him.
Sure a nice day." he said, and
they smiled at each other. He went
on out to the back porch and spoke
to his little girl, who was playing
in the back yard. When Marian
had put his breakfast on the table,
they sat for a while reading the
Sunday paper.
Il guess we ought to start pretty
soon," she said. Mother said she'd
have an early dinner and then we
can go to your folks"
They started around eleven. They
had to walk a few blocks to get the
street car-both their families lived
across town. Two-family houses
stretched for blocks. Blank parlor
windows stared from their porches,
and the bright light showed up their
peeling clapboards. A car went by
occasionally, and a few kids were
playing ball in the street, but the
sounds were muted in the Sunday
silence that seemed to contain the
accumulated silence of a thousand
other Sundays. The changing Of the
street car as it slowed to pick them
up was deafening.
For a long time they sat on the
swaying straw seats and watched
Chicago 60 by, monotonous, sprawl
ing, flooded with sun. They got off
in a street scarcely different from
their W and disappeared into one
of the two-family houses.
1t was two-thirty when they ar
rived at Johns mothers place. She
was sitting on the porch and did not
get up. She had not been well for
a long time. John could e that
she had been crying.
whats the matter, MAJ" he asked.
She looked up at him ~anxiously.
"Its that strike at the mill"
He nodded. And then, gently,
"How are the boys?" His two
brothers worked for Republic Steel
at its plant half a mile away. Jim
was married and lived a few blocks
down the street. Michael still lived
at home.
Mrs. Mccartney began to cry.
"Jim's out" she said, but Michael
stayed in. I don't know why. It's
not a question Of money. I've heard
so many stories about his being kept
against his will"
They talked about the weather
after that.
Some time later he said he thought
he'd drop in at Jim's place and left
the two women sitting on the porch.
His child walked with him a little
way down the street. Then he leaned
down and kissed her lightly and
she al back, turning once to wave
her hand.
Jim was not at home but his wife
was. She told him Jim had gone
to a union mass-meeting at Sans
an old tavern that the union
was using for strike headquarters.
John tipped his hat and went on.
Houses here were scattered; a little
farther on they gave way to open
prairie. He could already see the
crowd at Sans Place. At the far
side of the prairie, s~mokestacks rose
over the long block-like buildings
of the Republic plant.
The mass-meeting was going on.
He moved through the crowd in
curing for Jim. Jim would know
about Mike. There were a lot of
people there he knew. Their wives
and children were there too. Most
of them were dressed up, like him
self. Several people told him they'd