HOMECOMING

In 1909, Reuben G. Soderstrom officially became a journeyman in the International Typographers Union (ITU), joining St. Louis Local number 8.

It was a momentous achievement for the poor immigrant boy from Minnesota. He was now a union man with a union membership card—a card he would carry proudly in his wallet for the rest of life, and a trade he would practice for decades to come. He most likely celebrated the glorious occasion with his fellow initiates on a warm spring evening, perhaps riding the trolley car through St. Louis’ Francis Park and gazing upward at the city’s first highway bridge, completed in 1909, that spanned the mighty Mississippi. En route to the rowdy beer halls of America’s great river city, they may have walked past the grand Jefferson Hotel and viewed the dazzling chandeliers in the lobby from the sidewalk windows after being shooed away by the doormen.

Walking home, Reuben—a lifelong student of Lincoln—most certainly stopped at St. Louis’ handsome Old Courthouse, where Dred Scott sued for his freedom in 1847 and where an anti-slave rally inspired St. Louis to become a free city. After spending four years on the road in other cities like Madison and Chicago, Reuben certainly saw his fellow ITU-initiates continue life as journeyman “tramp printers,” traveling the country from job to job. But he knew there was only one place for him, and he was soon boarding the Chicago, Peoria & St. Louis Railroad, homeward bound.

Home Again

In the river city of Peoria, midway between St. Louis and Chicago, Reuben switched to the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy (CB&Q) Railroad to Streator. When he arrived, the ladies of his life, girlfriend Jeanne and sister Olga, stood beaming on the Streator platform with grand hats decorated is large, inexpensive feathers. They celebrated, marching arm-in-arm to the five-cent Sunday matinee at the Lyric Theater, where the afternoon show included three reels of good pictures, plus a Mildred & Price 90-minute vaudeville show. On nights like these, Reub and Jeanne walked Olga home before making their way back to Jeanne’s parents’ house to sit on the front porch and tell stories about the sights and sounds of faraway St. Louis.

Reuben found Streator bustling with commerce and labor, but found life at home a bit different and flat. Little Joseph’s death the year before still hung over the family. Mother Anne dealt with the loss by “taking ill” for several days, not truly sick but seeking escape. As Olga remembered:

Mother was ill so often and all through my childhood school days, it was a problem because I lost so much, being absent because she was ill. And until I was in [nurse] training, I didn’t realize so much of it was an act…She once told me that she had six children and never had a vacation, so she felt she was entitled to time off and she’d go to bed ill…Dad never became excited by Mother’s illnesses. In retrospect, I know he understood her better than I did.[1]

Clearly suffering from depression, Anne Soderstrom’s strength and spark had left her. Her eldest, Paul, had stayed in Chicago and recently married Clara Simpco—young, beautiful, and pregnant with their first child. He had moved out of the auto shop and started work as a chauffeur for a wealthy family in downtown Chicago. Father John, meanwhile, spent most of his days repairing shoes at his cobbler shop, beginning work at 6:30 A.M. and sometimes not returning until 10:00 PM. Sunday was his only day home, and he’d frequently spent it studying the bible and attending church. He was not actively preaching at this time because the Mission Church had closed; he started on as a parishioner in a Baptist church instead.[2]

Despite the losses and leavings, the family did welcome some new faces. The Bottoms, a neighboring family, grew to be regular fixtures at the house. “Maw” Bottom became a companion for Anna, while her daughters became Olga’s closest playmates. Often, John would take them along whenever he took Olga to church or a show, or to the cemetery to visit her brother’s grave.

But the family highlight for Reub was his brother Lafe, who had returned from Chicago and was active in the local labor scene. Though Reuben had joined his brother as a member of ITU Streator Local 328, there was a lot for him to catch up on, and Lafe was the closest thing he had to an energetic twin, thinker, actor and doer. THE LABOR MOVEMENT

Labor in Streator...

Although Reub followed Streator’s labor happenings in St. Louis, Lafe was in town witnessing the tumult daily. Sitting in the grandstand of the huge Streator Fair Grounds to see Streator take on Racine in baseball, on a muddy field during a muggy day, Lafe reported to Reub that workers of all stripes and trades were under attack. Trolley electricians’ wages were stagnant, and track laborers had also seen their wages go flat while suffering increasing abuse at the hands of their foremen. Most severely, Lafe reported, local workers in Streator’s famed glass factories had been forced to accept a forty percent pay cut.

Reub learned that this had led to two very different strikes. On April 29, 1909, 30 Italian laborers laying the McKinley Interurban Line staged a strike against the Illinois Light and Traction Company (ILTC), the same company Reub carried water for in his childhood. Strikers sought a 25-cent increase in their $1.50 10-hour daily wage, as well as limitations on the control foremen had over their workers. As non-unionized Italian immigrants speaking little English, the laborers had little public or trade council support, which the company used to its advantage. The next day the superintendent brought in twenty-five Negro workers from LaSalle to act as “strike breakers,” working in place of the striking Italians. The Italian strikers gathered at the gate and physically blocked the Negro strike breakers from entering the workplace. In retaliation, the superintendent instructed the police to escort the breakers in to the construction…and then the superintendent fired all the striking Italians. The Negro laborers completed the work. To add insult to injury, the superintendent paid the Negro laborers $1.75 per day—exactly the amount the Italians wished was their new wage.[3] Racial tensions were at an all-time high.

This was in sharp contrast to what happened to the electricians of Local 236 of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers (IBEW) when they staged their strike against ILTC the following month. Seeking a\ four-cent per hour wage increase, the electricians negotiated with Company President McQuinn right up to the day their contract expired on June 2. When McQuinn refused to sign an agreement because some of the men involved were motormen, the motormen responded by retuning their cars to the company barn at noon that day and joined with the electricians.

The Streator Trades and Labor Council held an emergency meeting that night and elected six delegates to present two contracts to management the next day, one for electricians and one for motormen. After some changes—most notably the withdrawal of the foreman from the IBEW—management agreed to the union’s terms. However, importantly and unfairly, the company included a “successor clause” stating future owners would not be bound either to the contract or to recognition of the IBEW as an authorized representative.[4]

Reub was about to enter the thicket of Streator labor politics. And as the financial cornerstone of the family, he first picked up temporary work at Andy Anderson’s print shop, quickly followed by a prestigious job as typographer for the Streator Free Press. There he would read the news, write the news, and soon…make the news.

Labor in Illinois and the Midwest…

The Streator strikes of 1909 demonstrated the competing powers of labor and management. Successful protests like the Electrician’s strike were characterized by strong unionization, cross-trade solidarity, and public support. Strikes conducted by non-unionized workers without broader support, like the track laborer’s strike, inevitably failed. As a result, business owners in Streator, Illinois, and beyond worked hard to prevent the undeniable empowerment of unionization.

Nowhere was this truer than in the mining industry, which was rich with workers of different cultures, languages, and faiths. However, despite the need for solidarity, the United Mine Workers Union in 1909-1910 was characterized by increasing internal chaos. At the center of the storm was a man Reuben would soon come to know and love: John Walker. A disciple of UMWA President John Mitchell, Walker had quickly risen from the Illinois mines to become President of the Illinois UMWA in 1905. When Mitchell retired in 1908, many (including Walker himself) believed he would replace the outgoing president. However, Walker lost the election by a narrow margin to UMWA Vice President John L. Lewis. Walker believed Lewis had fraudulently manipulated the election, and spent the next several years opposing Lewis’ efforts to centralize power. Lewis in turn tried to undermine Walker, threatening to undo the economic benefits and security of Illinois miners in the process. Despite these attempts, Walker secured a new sweeping contract for Illinois miners in 1910 that solidified his reputation as a powerful labor leader and drove Lewis to defeat.[5]

The Chicago and Illinois labor movement likewise made steps to reorganize and reform. In addition to Walker in the UMWA, the Chicago Federation of Labor (CFL) had found strong new leadership in John Fitzpatrick. Elected President in 1906, Fitzpatrick promised both to clean up the corruption of the “Skinny” Madden regime and organize many more workers. He soon delivered, recruiting thousands of steelworkers and meatpackers into the unions. He also had led the CFL to provide support for the Chicago Federation of Teachers, one of the first attempts in the country to unionize teachers. He also waged war on Chicago’s political corruption, making headlines in July of 1910 by exposing illegal gambling rackets under police protection.[6]

…In the Nation and Abroad

Dramatic change wasn’t limited to the Midwest. The shift to an industrial economy had quickly transformed the American workforce. By 1910, 8.3 million Americans worked in manufacturing, a 41% increase since 1900.[7] Roughly 90% of male American industrial wage workers, meanwhile, earned less than $1,000 per year (roughly $25,396 in 2015 dollars).[8] Even with fathers working full time, many families lived in poverty.

This shift was felt not only in the United States. In Reuben’s native Sweden, recession and employer lockouts resulted in a nation-wide general strike. Although viewed by many Swedish union leaders as a last resort, more radical and socialist labor elements were spoiling for the fight, hoping it would bring about a “great leap forward towards socialism.”[9] It did not end well; the month-long general strike cost owners roughly 25 million Swedish kronor, but the Swedish Trade Union Confederation (Landsorganisationen) lost more than half its membership, and Social Democratic Party suffered heavy political losses. There is no doubt that while 21-year-old Reuben G. Soderstrom rolled and read the news at the Streator Free Press, he keenly observed the socialist undertow of the labor movement and began parsing its humane spirit from its operational challenges.

Meanwhile, in Philadelphia, the local trolley workers’ union went on strike when their call for a 3-cent increase in hourly wages was met by the Philadelphia Rapid Transit company (PRT) with a company-controlled “union,” firing 173 workers, and hiring replacements from New York City. When the (widely unpopular) PRT refused to negotiate, workers across the city held their own “general strike,” grinding the life of the city to a halt.

Unlike the general strike in Sweden, however, the Philadelphia efforts enjoyed broad support. Across the United States, local organizations including the Streator Labor Council—perhaps swayed by speeches by the Brothers Soderstrom—voted to send money to the city of brotherly love in support of the strike. By March 5th thousands throughout the city blocked the tracks and built makeshift bunkers to protect themselves as the protests descended into violence. Mobs set trolley cars on fire and threw bricks at the police, who responded by firing into the crowd. According to the New York Literary Digest, “Within four days 3 persons were killed, 375 injured, 500 arrested, 7 cars were burned, 841 cars were wrecked or disabled, and the company lost $100,000, while its business loss is figured at $300,000.”[10] Ultimately, the PRT relented, handing labor a major victory.

Important legislative landmarks accompanied success on the ground. In Washington, on July 2, 1909, Congress passed the 16th Amendment, creating a progressive income tax. The amendment’s opponents, who had hoped to kill a similar Democratic income tax bill, watched in numb horror as the incredibly popular proposal swept the nation. Within a few short years, the unthinkable happened—3/4 of the states approved the amendment, leaving anti-labor forces to suffer one of the worst self-inflicted wounds in US Political history.

REUBEN ENTERS THE FRAY

Cherry Mine Reform

While large national and international events dominated the presses for much of 1909, by year’s end all other stories were overshadowed by the tragedy at Cherry Mine. The November 13 coal mine fire that took the lives of over 250 men and boys in this sleepy mining town just outside Streator captured the nation’s attention for a variety of reasons. Americans were riveted by the painfully detailed accounts of the tragedy, from the letters of those facing death below to the fate of their loved ones abandoned above. As author and historian Karen Tintori wrote in her riveting account of the event, “Death touched nearly every home in Cherry, Illinois. Hundreds of women were widowed. Nearly five hundred children were orphaned. Just weeks before Thanksgiving they were plunged into despair and destitution, with no food or fuel in homes suddenly robbed of men.”[11]

When the members of the Trades and Labor Council met for their regularly scheduled meeting the day after Cherry, the mood was one of despair and mourning. Everyone in the room had a personal connection to someone who worked in the mines. They voted to send notice to all union members of the new workplace safety law scheduled to take effect January 1, 1910, promising vigilance and a renewed push for further reform.

Even more important was the creation of the Cherry Commission, which included members from the UMWA, the Red Cross, the Illinois Coal Operators Association and the Illinois State Board of Control. The commission was vice-chaired by none other than John Williams, Reuben’s mentor. Williams’ compassionate and tireless effort not only brought security to the widows of Cherry; it led to a major victory for Illinois labor—the state’s first workman’s compensation act. In the words of one historian, “During this period John E. Williams made his most notable contribution to industrial relations. These contributions were not made solely to Streator, but to the entire nation.”[12] As Reuben later noted with pride and admiration, “It was John E. Williams who got in touch with the Chicago Milwaukee Railroad people, who own that mine, and encouraged them to help set up the workman’s compensation act in the state of Illinois. He also coaxed them into paying the funeral expenses and to set aside a fund for the education of the orphans of these children whose fathers died in that Cherry Mine disaster.John E. Williams was a great man.”[13] William’s work was groundbreaking, helping to pass compensation laws whose impact would eventually be felt across country. Councilmen Soderstrom

The tragedy at Cherry Mine moved Reuben personally. He became an active member of Streator ITU Local 328, and displaying an intellect and oratorical skill that quickly earned him attention. On January 7, 1910, Reuben marked a major milestone in his political life when he was elected alongside his brother Lafe to serve on the ITU Local’s Executive Committee. Reub was further nominated as the Local’s delegate to the Trades and Labor Council. These were incredibly influential postings as the ITU, while small in membership, was one of the strongest unions in the city.

The brothers Soderstrom were officially installed as elected officers of Local 328 on February 4, 1910. An ascending labor leader, Reuben planned not just to lead but to rally and inspire, and he soon began writing what would be his first of many labor editorials. His first documented literary contribution as a labor official was to a recurring Daily Free Press column titled “Among Wage Workers: News of Interest to Working Men and Women.” It was published on February 11, 1910, and focused on the philanthropy of ITU members. He stressed the power of collective action, citing the example of the 15-cent per month per capita collection which resulted in the $26,000 library addition to the Printers’ Home in Colorado Springs, Colorado.[14]

Reuben also relentlessly pressed for action from the union floor, speaking powerfully on the inadequacy of proposed legal reforms. At the ITU’s February meeting, Reub called out legislators for creating reforms without funding or support. He decried Illinois Department of Factory Inspection Chief Davies getting only 25 deputies to police the entire state. At later meetings speeches on topics ranging from the indignity of county “poor houses” and the need for dignified work, to the importance of pensions and adequate compensation made him a popular figure within the local labor movement. Lafe, though less of a speaker, also thrived in the union leadership and soon became the local’s Sergeant-at-Arms. Just as in Chicago, Lafe was Reub’s right hand man, his confidant and most trusted ally.

Seasons of Streator

While Reuben spent most of his professional life in 1909-1910 finding his voice as a labor leader, his personal life and relationships blossomed at a breakneck pace. From the autumn of 1909 through the spring and summer of 1910, both Reub and his city of Streator shared and endured turns of joy, heartbreak and hopefulness that foreshadowed greater challenges to come.

Reuben’s world in the autumn of 1909 revolved largely around his loved ones. He continued to be his family’s primary means of support, both financially and emotionally. One person, however, held a special place in Reuben’s life and heart—Jeanne. Despite a lengthy courtship, Reuben still treasured his teenage sweetheart. That autumn they did almost everything together, from attending shows like the Darrow & Mitchell comedy act to viewing the total lunar eclipse of October 27. Picking her up after work, Reub strolled through City Park with Jeanne on his arm, watching silently as the moon slowly disappeared. They sat mesmerized in the darkness, saying little and simply enjoying each other’s quiet company, until the moon reappeared in the early morning sky. According to Reuben, it was on the walk home that night he decided he’d found his lifelong partner.

The happiness and tranquility of autumn would not last long, however. The tragedy at Cherry mine was only the start of what became a cold, dark winter. Freezing rainstorms in early December blanketed the Midwest in ice. To complicate matters, the extreme cold slowed coal mining a great deal, reducing tonnage and depleting local supplies. By early January, Greeley school, which consumed a ton of coal a day, had to close due to the shortage. The miners themselves were the hardest hit; their paychecks were based on tonnage, smaller paychecks resulted as fuel prices skyrocketed. The harsh winter attacked workers’ health as well as their livelihood. Exhausted and weakened, those in the glass factories and mines experienced increasing lung problems, especially tuberculosis. The constant abuse from hot molten glass fibers and coal dust took a devastating toll, leading to TB mortality rates far above the national average. Black lung and Whooping Cough also spread throughout the region, devastating families.

The harsh times did not leave the Soderstrom family untouched. It was around this time that Grandpa Soderstrom passed away at the age of 88. Sadder still, Paul’s infant son, only four months old, was also a victim of the long winter. Paul and wife Clara brought the body from Chicago to Streator for burial in the early months of 1910. Sadly, it was just the first of many deeply personal losses Reub’s brother would suffer over the next few years.

Unaware of tragedies to come, Reuben remained energized and optimistic. In his columns and as a Trade Council Delegate, Reub worked tirelessly, reaching out to labor and connecting it to the broader community. To a talented young man brimming with enthusiasm and ambition, however, that community started to feel small. Like his father, Reub still possessed a restless spirit, and a major city like Chicago held great appeal. Reub was still full of wanderlust, and as 1910 came to a close Reub set his eyes on yet another move.

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