ILWU pensioner reflects on his 51-year career in Locals 13 and 94

James Gyerman describes backbreaking work of the 1950’s, working first container ship in 1960’s

[In November, The Dispatcher sat down for an extended interview with ILWU pensioner James Gyerman to discuss his 51-year career in the ILWU. Gyerman spent the first half of his career as a Local 13 longshore worker before transferring to Local 94, where he spent the last 25 years of his career as a foreman. Below is his story in his own words.]

My name is James Gyerman. My work number is 33294. My previous work number was 2200. PMA did some adjustments for some ungodly reason.

I started on the waterfront in 1959. I was 19. I can’t remember who my sponsor was. He was an ex-Business Agent my father knew very well. My father started in the mid-1940s. We moved out here from Detroit, Michigan, in 1944. My dad drove a Pontiac out here if you can believe that – with two kids. I can’t remember if there was a dog or not. My dad had a union background. He was an organizer for Walter Reuther, who was at that time President of the United Auto Workers union. My mother had family out here in California, and I guess my dad started disliking shoveling snow.

My dad got a job at a restaurant that was owned by my aunt and uncle. It was on 9th Street in San Pedro. Right across the street from where Trani’s is now. Anyway, he was a bartender. There was a gentleman who used to come in all the time and drink with my dad, and he took a liking to my dad and asked him if he’d like to be a longshoreman. In those days there was sponsorship. And my dad said yeah, why not. So, he became a longshoreman. It was in the mid-1940s. Right after that, he got involved in the union also. He was on the Executive Board, a Caucus delegate, and a Business Agent.

Bridges caucus 

When Harry came down here to talk or to communicate with Local 13—13 was always the bastard child. Whatever the issue was, we always voted against it. But when Harry came down, my dad and about seven, maybe eight guys were his entourage. My dad was six-foot-ten. His nickname was Long John. Harry had his own little caucus down here.

When Harry walked into the building, there were a lot of boos and just hollering and stuff, but the minute Harry started to talk, you could hear a pin drop. He always had a way to turn that crowd around. When he walked down the aisle leaving, they were cheering. He was just that type of a man.

Discharging bananas 

The work was tough. We had bananas on Mondays and Tuesdays, whether you liked it or not—you were discharging bananas. The stalks were bigger than you. When you unloaded bananas, there was a line, you were in that line, and you never got out of that line. If you tried to get out of the line, the guy behind you would grab you. If you were trying to leave, it was usually because there was a huge stalk coming up and it was yours. We would put the stalk on a conveyor belt and the conveyor belt would take it out onto the dock and somebody on the dock would take it off the conveyor belt, put it on another conveyor belt, where it would go into a rail car. The Lane Victory, which is one of the ships tied up here on the waterfront, was basically the type of ship that we worked.

First day on the job

IDs were given out jobs. Take the job; if you don’t want the job, go home. They had a commodity that came in from Hawaii, it was called black sand. These were bags of sand about a foot and a half long by maybe 11 inches thick, but they weighed about 200 pounds. And if you can imagine the bottom of the hatch all over the deck was covered with these bags of black sand. They were stacked about three or four high, and all the other cargo was piled on top of it. So, when the regulars got down to the black sand, they would call a replacement. Well, you know who got there? It was the IDs. So yeah, my first job was discharging black sand. And we did that for about four days. You put probably 12 bags on a pallet board and sent it up, but it was a tough job. When you went home you were in shape or a backache. One or the other.

I said my dad’s nickname was Long John — when they found out that I was a Gyerman and Long John was my dad, it was like clouds opened up and the sun shined down on me. The older guys would take me under their wing and show me what to do.

First container ship 

I worked the first container job over at Matson. The containers were two high on deck all over the deck. The ship was like the Lane Victory—the same type of ship. I remember lashing on it was horrendous because you were up on top of two-high containers and then you had to pull this iron lash. It was two inches thick, and you had to pull these things up. They gave us a crank to pull it up, but after but two containers, it broke. So, I had to do that by hand. But I was lucky enough—well don’t know if I’m lucky enough, but I was there on the first ship.

This was the early 60’s—probably 62. Now three of those Lane Victories can fit on one container ship; it’s amazing. When we started on the waterfront, we were two high. We were fighting just to go one high. We thought eight feet off the deck was dangerous. You can kill yourself. And that was way back then. Now, they’re ten high behind the house. The ships are getting bigger and bigger.

Mechanization & Modernization agreement

Back in those days, we had 250 day and night dock gangs, which was a lot of gangs. And then probably 150 ship gangs, which is a lot of people. So when we went into the M&M gang, I’m jumping way ahead, but when Harry proposed the M&M agreement, which was modernization and mechanization, it was almost like he put a bounty on his head. Because my God, it was giving up a lot of gangs, a lot of men. And the guys were afraid of it. I sort of took sides with my dad. And my dad was for the M&M agreement because he was part of the group that would sit down and discuss it with Harry. And Harry would tell him what his future was like. And Harry was absolutely right. We only had about 1,200 people in Local 13 at that time. Now I think there are over 5,000, so he was right.

The membership talked about it for years, especially the gang numbers, and because there were a lot of gangs dissolved because of it. And it was a big issue, a tremendously big issue. There were still people that you know, disliked it, or call it a defeat and said that we’re gonna go down not fighting. That was one of the biggest issues on the waterfront for years. And like I said, there were 250 dock gangs and went down to something like 60, then down to 40, and then down to 20. It sort of added fuel to their dislike for the M&M, showing that they were right and Harry was wrong. But in the long run, Harry was right.

Making the A-board

When I made the A-board, jobs got a little easier. Copra was a good job. It’s a coconut rind. And it would come in off of these ships from Hawaii and the Philippines. Those were good jobs; they were messy because there were 10,000 gnats that you had to deal with. But when they found out I was Jim Gyerman, because of my dad’s reputation, they would show me how to do it. There was a trick to it. You went down and you created a trough that went into this huge vacuum cleaner. It was a huge vacuum hose that you put into the hatch, but the trick was not to sweep it all in and around, but it was to create a trough so that all you have to do is touch it and it falls by itself. The first 15 minutes were probably the hardest part of the whole job. That and swatting those damn gnats; those were 7, 10, and 14-day jobs.

Running for Business Agent

In the early 70’s I was getting involved with the union. Bobby Olvera, Sr., God Rest his Soul, we were pretty good partners. He got me started in the union—Executive Board-wise and Caucus-wise, different committees, and then he talked me into running for Business Agent. I guess he saw something in me that I didn’t. He was a good Business Agent. He knew sections of the contract by heart. I would follow him on days I wasn’t working. He talked me into running. I ran, but I didn’t get elected until my third try. On my third try I won by about seven votes. The second time I ran, I was unopposed, which I took to mean that guys liked the job I was doing.

Transferring to Local 94

When I went over to 94, I was on the Executive Board for 10 or 13 years. I ran for president and lost by only five votes. In the old days, there was maybe one superintendent on the job. There was maybe one superintendent for three or four jobs. Now, you’ve got three or four superintendents on one ship. I mean, it’s like we’re no longer running a job anymore, and we’re the ones with the experience.

When I was a foreman, they hired a superintendent off the lunch wagon. It’s not to demean him. It’s the employer that hired him, but I showed up on the job—I knew who he was because I ate off the lunch wagon. Maybe a month later, I caught that job again, I said, “What are you?” And he says, “I’m the superintendent.” I asked, “What happened to the lunch wagon?” He said, “I’m a superintendent now.” I told him I’m gonna treat you like a superintendent: “Get out of my face. Get on the dock where you belong, and don’t do nothing.” That’s the way it was. Simple. I can’t tell you how many times I threw a superintendent off the ship because he didn’t belong on the ship. They go down in the hold to make sure what you do is right. They don’t hire another ILWU person to make sure you did what’s right. They hire somebody off a lunch wagon. I mean, you’ve got 30 years of experience!

The ILWU means the world to me. That’s been my whole life. I sometimes wish I hadn’t backed off when I went foreman. My cause changed. It was trying to put a stop to what the superintendents were doing, as opposed to staying in 13 and running for who knows what and maybe staying more involved in the union than I was.

The union has been great. That’s why there are so many people that want to come down here. In time, I hope we realize the union’s following the waterfront, and the waterfront is growing up. It’s been a good run. Greatest job in the world. 51 years on the waterfront. The only bad ones were the first four years and the black sand.