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Back Come Again No More Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover
  3. Title Page
  4. Contents
  5. PART I 
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. PART II 
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. PART III 
  38. 31.
  39. 32.
  40. 33.
  41. 34.
  42. 35.
  43. 36.
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. PART IV 
  48. 40.
  49. 41.
  50. 42.
  51. 43.
  52. 44.
  53. 45.
  54. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  55. Touchstone Reading Group Guide

They waited three more hours. Finally a Pontiac sedan came up the road. Inside were three members of the union executive out of Portland. They brushed past the waiting men into Tatro’s headquarters shack and talked for five minutes. When Tatro came out, he was smiling. He stood on the bumper of a truck parked outside the sawmill gates to announce that an agreement with the mill owners had been reached without bloodshed. The men were to get a raise to six dollars a day for a reduced, forty-eight-hour week. The union was recognized at this mill and all the others belonging to the Columbia River Lumber Company. From now on, the mill would operate as a closed shop. You belonged to the union or you didn’t work. Each man got a one-week vacation every year and three sick days with pay. It was a huge victory. The strike was over.

There were halfhearted cheers when Tatro announced the agreement. Some men pulled out forbidden flasks of whiskey and passed them around. The men knew how important the agreement was, how it would make their lives easier in the future, but they had been cheated of battle. Now they had no outlet for all that pent-up nerve and adrenaline. They were keyed up to break some heads and left without heads to break. A victory won without a fight seemed hollow and pointless, a day that promised release and exhilaration ending in signatures on a piece of paper and a few dollars more in a pay packet at the end of the week.

Clay Tatro and Jake McCloskey were among the last to leave the sawmill, shortly after dusk. Jake sat tapping his fingers and jiggling his right leg while Tatro drove. Tatro noticed how edgy he was.

“Kind of put a damper on things when we didn’t get that fight.”

“Sure did. Damned shame, we would a fought like wild men.”

“Don’t I know it. Company knew it too. I think they knew they were beat. Still, too bad we didn’t get a chance to teach a few strikebreakers a lesson. Even old Gunny was up for a fight, and he don’t work here anymore.”

“I guess you didn’t need me after all,” Jake said. “You don’t need fighters when there’s no fight.”

“Oh, yes, you do. That’s why we didn’t have to fight. They knew we were ready. Sometimes that’s how you avoid a fight. You have a bigger knife than the other fella.”

Jake still felt uneasy. A fighter without a brawl was like a soldier without a war, with nothing to look forward to except punching a clock at the mill.

39.