Page 134 - MY STORY

When he started getting more obdurate, I asked for his

name and badge number so I could “notify management
of his actions to cause us to slip schedule for an important
R&D task.” With that implied threat he reluctantly let me

proceed, and I delivered the material as planned. How
little I knew about retribution! As I left the guard station
he must have called over to the carpool, also run by union

employees. From that day forward every time I checked
out a company car from the carpool – I got the oldest,
most decrepit machine on the lot which usually was on

the verge of being scrapped. It usually had more than
100,000 miles on the odometer, windows that did not roll

up or down, no air conditioning, out of balance tires, and
seat cushions that were torn to the stuffing.

The checkout also came with what appeared to be a small

smile on the face of the carpool staffer. Motto – don’t piss
off the union knowingly. This situation lasted until the

Santa Monica plant was shut down and we all moved to
the Huntington Beach facility.