Funeral for the Slain, July 9, 1934

“Stop in your tracks, you passer-by; uncover your doubting head. The workingmen are on their way, to bury their murdered dead.” 

—Mike Quin, verse from his poem “These are the Class War Dead” (1934).

After the horrors of July 5th, the city fell into an uneasy calm. The National Guard was embedded at points along the Embarcadero and martial law was declared in that area. Scant crews of replacement workers made best efforts to move cargo to and from the ports. The Industrial Association in partnership with law enforcement had effectively removed the strikers from street demonstrations. The two dead union men, Howard Sperry and Nicholas Bordoise, lay in state at ILA headquarters near where they had fallen at Steuart & Mission Streets. Hordes of mourners filed past their caskets in the union hall to pay their respects. Employers saw Bloody Thursday as a significant step towards ending the strike and reopening the port, now 54 days gone, but longshoremen viewed the day as a turning point, a chance to build solidarity amongst other smaller unions and the general public.

Monday after the shootings, downtown San Francisco fell silent as trucks carried the slain men in a reverent funeral procession. Nearly 40,000 participants joined in slow solemn formations, marching from 113 Steuart Street, down Market Street all the way to Duggan’s funeral home at 17th & Valencia in the Mission. The scene was described as “one of the strangest and most dramatic spectacles” by author Paul Elliel (Johnson 96). After the brutal assault from law enforcement days earlier, ILA leaders had insisted that no police would be present at the march, that union men would instead keep the peace themselves. The dignity of the march countered the press narratives of riotous "Reds" seeking to undermine civic stability. Instead, the deaths of these two men indicated to the public that the city “had flagrantly destroyed any semblance of state neutrality” (Johnson 96). Smaller unions came to the side of the maritime industries, understanding that if this large bloc could be defeated by brute force, they themselves had little hope for future bargaining, and the impetus for a general strike became insurmountable (Quin 129).

That evening, July 9th, the San Francisco Labor Council called a meeting which included representatives from almost every union in the city, large and small. The Joint Marine Strike Committee, headed by Harry Bridges and other delegates from the seamen and maritime unions, called for a general strike that would include allied unions from across the Bay Area. Conservative leaders from other industries were wary of this idea and proposed an alternate resolution to create a Strike Strategy Committee (SSC), which would investigate various courses of action and tentatively plan for a potential strike. As traditional leadership slow-walked any votes or specific planning, rank-and-file Teamsters and other union members took action.

The President’s National Longshoremen’s Board announced open hearings in a last-ditch attempt to mediate the situation between the maritime laborers and employers’ associations. Delegates from each union testified about the employers’ frustrating refusal to concede on any major issues and reiterated their demands in front of the board. In a bid to save face, the Waterfront Employers’ Union, led by Thomas G. Plant, agreed to arbitrate on all issues concerning the longshoremen only, proposed a joint-controlled hiring hall, and excluded any other unions’ demands from their concession, ignoring the primary points labor was fighting for (Johnson 97, Quin 132-133). Unions and labor councils around the Bay Area met this recalcitrance with consensus for a general strike. The emergency sessions concluded on July 11th, and later that evening, after a stirring call for unity from Bridges, the Teamsters elected to not just boycott waterfront cargo as they had been doing, but to stop movement of any and all freight. Following suit, twenty other unions opted for strikes around the Bay Area on July 12th, and the walkouts began (Johnson 98). 

As the official strike deadline of 8 a.m. on Monday July 16th approached, residents made rushes on gas stations, grocery stores, and the well-heeled even fled the city in anticipation of a general strike. Mayor Rossi approved a request to enlist 500 additional policemen and spend $50,000 on gas bombs and ammunition (Quin 143). Newspapers decried the attempted Red communist takeover of democratic order in front page editorials. Streets grew still as union after union joined the effort. Finally, the deadline passed, and all but emergency and essential services shut down; the general strike had begun (Johnson 96-98, Quinn119-145).

Johnson, Victoria. How Many Machine Guns Does It Take to Cook One Meal? : The Seattle and San Francisco General Strikes. University of Washington Press, 2008.

Quin, Mike. The Big Strike. International Publishers, 1949.