Idaho's Bunker Hill: The Rise And Fall Of A Great Mining Company, 1885-1981

a story of cooperation, dedication, and ingenuity. People literally

“Idaho’s Bunker Hill provides a much-needed account of

gave their lives for the production

one of the most important mining companies in the

of lead, zinc, and silver. In the end, however, environmental destruction, aging facilities, and mineral short-

aiken

Hill’s history is at the same time

katherine g. aiken For nearly a century, the Bunker Hill Company was one

Idaho’s Bunker Hill

history of the American West. Not only is this book beauti-

The Rise and Fall of a Great Mining Company, 1885–1981

fully written, but the author deftly weaves together strands

of the premier mining and smelting corporations in the United States. Located in Kellogg, Idaho, in the remote Coeur d’Alene region,

of business, labor, and environmental history to create a

Bunker Hill played a key role in the

destroyed the company’s economic

satisfying whole, a study that not only examines the history

nation’s industrial development. But

viability.

of Bunker Hill but also places its history in a larger context

Following closure of Bunker Hill, the company records were placed in the University of Idaho Library Special Collections. Rarely has such a com-

of resource extraction in the West.”

Carlos Arnaldo Schwantes author of The Pacific Northwest: An Interpretive History

plete corporate record been available for research. Taking full advantage of this resource, Aiken offers

“Based on painstaking and original research,

an in-depth profile that illustrates

Katherine G. Aiken’s complex history of the Bunker Hill

major trends in American corporate culture.

Katherine G. Aiken is Professor and Chair in the Department of History, University of Idaho, Moscow. She is the

Company, northern Idaho’s famous mining and smelting operation, tells the story of a relentless chase for corporate profits, volatile labor-management relations, and the poisoning of the surrounding landscape. Readers will find especially compelling the workers’ persistent struggle to

author of Harnessing the Power of

protect their health and safety in the face of the company’s

Motherhood: The National Florence

bottom-line management practices.”

Crittenton Mission, 1883–1925. On the front: Miners underground in Bunker Hill mine, circa 1900. (72-92.9, courtesy Idaho State Historical

William G. Robbins author of The Great Northwest: The Search for Regional Identity

Society.)

Idaho’s Bunker Hill

ages, as well as foreign competition,

at the same time it was the catalyst for unprecedented labor strife and environmental desecration. And today it is one of the EPA’s largest Superfund sites. In this richly detailed history, Katherine G. Aiken traces Bunker Hill’s evolution from the discovery of the mine in 1885 to the company’s closure in 1981. Throughout the company’s long history, Bunker Hill management was relentless in its pursuit of profit. This aggressive capitalism led to rapid expansion, technological innovation, and secure wages for employees. But success came at a price. Each time managers sought production increases, workers became restless and dissatisfied. The resulting labormanagement conflicts were nothing short of legendary. The history of Bunker Hill is also very much the story of the people

ISBN 0-8061-3682-0

who lived in Idaho’s Silver Valley and worked for the company. Oftentimes a tale of strife, Bunker (continued on back flap)

Idaho’s Bunker Hill

IDAHO’S BUNKER HILL The Rise and Fall of a Great Mining Company, 1885–1981

KATHERINE G. AIKEN

UNIVERSITY OF OKLAHOMA PRESS : NORMAN

Also by Katherine G. Aiken Harnessing the Power of Motherhood: The National Florence Crittenton Mission, 1883–1925 (Knoxville: 1998)

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Aiken, Katherine G., 1951– Idaho’s Bunker Hill: the rise and fall of a great mining company, 1885–1981 / Katherine G. Aiken. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-8061-3682-0 1. Bunker Hill Company—History. 2. Mineral industries—Idaho—Kellogg— History. 3. Lead mines and mining—Idaho—Kellogg—History. 4. Zinc mines and mining—Idaho—Kellogg—History. 5. Silver mines and mining—Idaho— Kellogg—History. I. Title. HD9506.U6B8642 2005 338.7'622344—dc22 2004066064 The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources, Inc. ∞ Copyright © 2005 by the University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Publishing Division of the University. All rights reserved. Manufactured in the U.S.A. 1

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For Joseph M. Schwartz

Contents

List of Illustrations Acknowledgments Introduction Chapter 1 Discovery, Development, and Labor Violence, 1885–1903 Chapter 2 “Let ’Er Smelt!” 1903–1917 Chapter 3 The Bradley-Easton Partnership and a New Corporate “Star,” 1917–1928 Chapter 4 Depression and War, 1928–1949 Chapter 5 New Realities, 1949–1968 Chapter 6 Texas Takes Over: The Gulf Resources Years, 1968–1981 Conclusion Notes Selected Bibliography Index

ix xi xv 3 40 72 99 134 168 205 211 263 275

Illustrations

Coeur d’Alene mining district Original Bunker Hill claim notice, 1885 Bunker Hill mining claims Militia call-up for Spanish-American War, c. 1898 Bunker Hill mill explosion, 1899 Men incarcerated in the bull pen, 1899 Underground miners, c. 1900 Bunker Hill power house Western Federation of Miners publication Bunker Hill dry, 1916 Kellogg YMCA “Safety First” sign Frederick W. Bradley Stanly A. Easton World War I Honor Roll, 1919 Miners treated for lead poisoning, c. 1921 Payday, March 1933 Coeur d’Alene River and Lake system Bunker Hill employees entering solarium, c. 1930 Miners’ Picnic Parade float, August 22, 1936 “Keep the Ore Cars Rolling” Woman worker in zinc plant Kellogg Tunnel entrance Worker packaging Bunker Hill Red Lead, May 1968

xvi 4 16 28 29 31 36 44 47 53 56 60 62 75 76 95 101 112 116 118 120 126 136 142

x

Mine crew members lowered to their work sites Bunker Hill Board of Directors program cover, 1959 Anti-Communist Association advertisement Advertisement urging end to 1960 strike Zinc plant, 1968 Gulf Resources annual report cover, 1968 Board of Health citation, November 14, 1969 Worker hand stripping at zinc plant, 1968 Kellogg-area families in line for blood testing, c. 1974 Tall stack, c. 1977 Silver refinery, 1970 Mine tailing production graph Sign outside of Kellogg, Idaho

ILLUSTRATIONS

143 149 152 157 163 166 173 177 184 190 197 203 206

Acknowledgments

When I came to the University of Idaho to teach, I wanted to find a research project that would allow me to stay close to my home in Coeur d’Alene while my children were both preschoolers. Kellogg, Idaho’s Bunker Hill Company, fit the bill perfectly. I am grateful to people in Idaho’s Silver Valley, as well as to University of Idaho colleagues for aiding me in writing this book. Jack Kendrick, Bunker Hill’s last president, allowed me to examine the Bunker Hill records while they were still in the company’s vault. I owe a debt of gratitude to Ray Chapman, former director of personnel at Bunker Hill, for saving a number of the company records and moving them to a central location. Both Kendrick and Chapman answered innumerable questions as well. By the time I started my work, the complex was closed and there were only a handful of employees remaining. All were helpful to me as I sat in an unheated room and looked at the contents of the vault. My original notes carry labels such as “folder on the top shelf, left hand side.” I have attempted to locate all of the documents in the processed records, and where that is not possible, it is noted. Terry Abraham and the staff at the University of Idaho Special Collections have been unfailingly helpful as I have worked in the records there. Jennifer O’Laughlin and the staff of the interlibrary loan department have aided me on numerous occasions. Colleagues at the Idaho State Historical Society accommodated me more than I deserved. Librarians and archivists at the Norlin Library, University of Colorado at Boulder, and the Kellogg Public library were also helpful.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My colleagues at the University of Idaho Department of History added a critical dimension to my intellectual and personal life. Department chairs W. Kent Hackmann and Richard Spence encouraged my work. Nancy Dafoe, the departmental assistant, aided me in countless ways, especially since I became chair in 2000. My former colleague Carlos A. Schwantes shared my interest in mining history and was always willing to discuss my work and provide suggestions. The University of Idaho’s John Calhoun Smith Fund provided support throughout the years. It would have been difficult to complete this project without that funding. Corinne Davis introduced me to many people in the Silver Valley with knowledge about the Bunker Hill Company. I am most especially indebted to Peter Piekarski and the late Helen Piekarski, Mine-Mill activists and workers for social justice. They welcomed me into their home in Pinehurst, answered my questions, and provided unique source materials. Mining magnate Harry Magnuson took time out from his busy schedule to talk to me. Nancy Yount Rehberger, Gary Hoffman, and Vernon Larson granted interviews. Several journal editors played a significant role in this project. John Findlay, at Pacific Northwest Quarterly, Daniel Leab, at Labor History, Hal Rothman, at Environmental History Review, and Charles Rankin, then at Montana The Magazine of Western History, showed interest in my work, and their professional comments and those of readers for the journals helped me to refine my arguments. I am especially grateful to Anne Butler, at Western Historical Quarterly, who showed special patience for a first-time author, and whose suggestions and criticisms were timely and useful. Robert Zieger and the members of the National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Seminar at Wayne State University in 1981 whetted my appetite for labor history, introduced me to key issues, and provided a stimulating intellectual environment. The seminar discussions and readings informed many aspects of my research. I cannot imagine engaging in any historical pursuit without acknowledging Professor LeRoy Ashby, my dissertation advisor, mentor, and friend. His example of combining teaching and scholarship continues to inspire me. He is always available when I need advice or encouragement. Ursula Smith served as developmental editor, and her work was invaluable. Charles Rankin, Alice Stanton, and the staff at University of Oklahoma Press have been patient and helpful in all of our dealings. The manuscript benefited from Mary Rodarte’s careful copyediting.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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My family is my touchstone. My late father, William D. Aiken, an attorney, provided sound counsel on several occasions when my research became embroiled in lawsuits at Bunker Hill. My mother, Dorothy Aiken, is my cheerleader and advocate. All of my siblings were called upon at one time or another to help with this project. My sister Mary Louise Fishback is an English teacher and librarian who helped on several occasions with grammar. My forensic pathologist sister, Sally Aiken Fitterer, answered innumerable questions about lead poisoning. My brother, Jerome Aiken, also an attorney, answered my legal questions regarding Bunker Hill court cases. This book is dedicated to my husband and partner, Joseph M. Schwartz. He brought his considerable knowledge regarding business and accounting practices to this project. Without his guidance, I could never have navigated many of the Bunker Hill business records. If he explained depreciation to me once, he explained it one hundred times. I could not have managed the two-hundred-mile round-trip commute from our home in Coeur d’Alene to the University of Idaho, or the many trips to Kellogg, Idaho, without his considerable organizational skills, particularly when it came to managing the busy schedules of our children, Christopher David Schwartz and Rebecca Anne Schwartz. Joe provided essential assistance in identifying photographs and in preparing the map and notes for this volume. I am grateful for the many joys of our thirty years of married life; I literally could not have completed this book without his sense of humor and constant support.

Introduction

Seeking to underscore the economic and social impact of mining on American life, T. A. Rickard, the dean of mining historians, once wrote that a mine is “much more than a hole in the ground.”1 Rickard’s maxim certainly applies to Kellogg, Idaho’s, Bunker Hill Company—one of America’s truly great mining properties.2 This company and community, located in an isolated and sparsely populated region, became preeminent in the annals of American mining. As a result, historians have written about Bunker Hill in numerous contexts, but never before have we had a history that covers the period from the lode’s discovery, in 1885, to the closure of the complex, in 1981. During the nearly one hundred years that separate these two events, Kellogg, Idaho, and Bunker Hill stand at the center of the western experience. Patricia Nelson Limerick has noted that “no industry had greater impact on western history than did mining.” Bunker Hill history is particularly valuable in that most of the story takes place in the twentieth century, an era that much of western mining history has ignored.3 Alfred Chandler studied the Bunker Hill Company in his pioneering work, The Visible Hand, as Bunker Hill was one of the few fully integrated mining and smelting operations in the United States—in Chandler’s words, a “large industrial enterprise.”4 It was the prototype for the natural resource exploitation and complex capital expansion that took place in the West. Mining required a multifaceted industrial infrastructure, and Bunker Hill demonstrated the impact of capitalism on the “transformation” of the American West that William Robbins has more recently described.5

Coeur d’Alene Mining District Bunker Hill Properties Spokane, Wa. 60 miles

Smelter

Kellogg

Thompson Falls, Mt. 15 miles

Burke Star Mine

Bunker Hill Mine

Wallace

Silver Mtn. Shaft

Mullan

Zinc Plant Crescent Mine

Missoula, Mont. 102 miles

Spokane

Coeur d’Alene Area Enlarged Above

N

0

50

I DA H O

Boise

Coeur d’Alene mining district. (Based on map by J. M. Schwartz.)

100 Miles

INTRODUCTION

xvii

Mining provided a critical foundation for the industrial development that propelled the United States to a position of unchallenged economic hegemony, and throughout Bunker Hill history, workers and managers alike were proud of the contribution they made in this arena. From its origins as two small mining claims, to its place as one of the country’s largest producers of lead and zinc, Bunker Hill Company underwent a large-scale evolution in management style and policy. Although early managers operated with a hands-on mentality, the very nature of mining soon made this type of management far less viable. From the beginning, college-educated engineers brought the tenets of their discipline to bear on Bunker Hill operations. The need for more capital required Bunker Hill people to seek outside investors, thereby complicating the managerial process. Both of these developments alienated workers, who found themselves cogs in an industrial machine. While they struggled to maintain some semblance of control over their work lives, Bunker Hill employees lived in a community where the company dominated the local economy. Although Kellogg was never a company town in the formal sense, the mine and surface plants had provided the impetus for the town’s founding, and the company continued to wield considerable influence. Company managers believed they had a responsibility to offer leadership, though this leadership was often exercised in a patronizing way. At the same time, the community relied upon Bunker Hill financial investments to provide services and sponsor growth. During the post–World War II period, Kellogg residents sometimes referred to the company as “Uncle Bunker,” in recognition of the role that the corporation played in their lives—a constant and inescapable presence and an often generous, if perhaps also a paternalistic and domineering, relative.6 As was true for similar communities throughout the West, the mining and ore processing functions of Bunker Hill altered the geographic landscape of Kellogg.7 The company’s surface plants were and continue to be the community’s most distinctive feature. Other environmental impacts are not as evident at first glance. As Donald Worster has noted, “the drive for economic development of the West was often a ruthless assault on nature, and it has left behind it much death, depletion, and ruin.”8 Company owners/managers, workers, and Kellogg residents were cognizant of the detrimental impact of mining/smelting from almost the beginning of company history. They struggled to maintain some kind of balance between their desire for economic security and their recognition

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IDAHO’S BUNKER HILL

of the dangers that were an undeniable element of metals production. The health of workers inside Bunker Hill plants was a troublesome company and community problem as well.9 The efficacy of the bargain the Silver Valley made remains a matter of dispute. Class, ethnic, and gender tensions were evident in the community and inside Bunker Hill gates. These conflicts often surfaced in classic battles between workers and company officials. Labor-management relations at the company spilled over into Kellogg and the rest of the Silver Valley on a regular basis. Various labor organizations (the Western Federation of Miners [WFM], the Industrial Workers of the World [IWW], the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers [IUMMSW], the Congress of Industrial Organizations [CIO], the Northwest Metal Workers Union, and the United Steelworkers) provided an institutional framework for anxieties that stemmed from the complicated nature of the industrial process in terms of workers and their families. There are many intersections among these themes—management practices and policies; class, ethnic, and gender tensions; labor relations; community development; and environmental considerations—a series of interlocking pieces, if you will, that are central to this study. Both workers and managers were members of the Kellogg community, often making even the concept of the “Kellogg community” a contested one. It is safe to say that throughout its history, Bunker Hill management was committed to making as large a profit as was possible—the primary goal of any enterprise in a capitalist system. In an often relentless pursuit of earnings, company officials urged workers to increase production, which led to worker unrest and dissatisfaction. The introduction of new technology lessened the physical burden of mining and ore processing, but the price included the dehumanizing of the miner or metalworker. Increased production meant increased pollution, which definitely had an impact on all area residents—workers and managers alike. As Bunker Hill officials chased profits, greater production often translated into progressively more dangerous conditions that jeopardized workers’ health and safety. Company expansion simultaneously meant higher wages and secure employment, which contributed to the health and vitality of the local community. Bunker Hill workers established roots in the area, and several generations of many families found lifetime employment with the company. The children of workers and those of managers attended the same schools, participated on the same sports teams, and shared community pride.

INTRODUCTION

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Connections among Kellogg-area residents existed on many levels, although class, ethnic, and gender differences did not disappear. Over time the Bunker Hill Company became synonymous with the Kellogg community. The “Uncle Bunker” relationship meant that while workers were often critical of the company and its policies, even to the point of developing a decidedly adversarial relationship, both workers and managers took pride in their community and tended to close ranks when outsiders threatened. The overall insularity of the Kellogg community remains a noteworthy phenomenon.10 The community as a whole has shared the considerable social and economic dislocation accompanying the decline of the mining industry. As Michael Malone, William Robbins, and others have pointed out, this denouement is an oft-repeated scenario in western mining communities.11 Silver Valley residents remain divided when it comes to interpreting Bunker Hill’s legacy. The course of Bunker Hill corporate development illustrates major trends in American corporate culture. Workers struggled to maintain their autonomy in the face of growing company power. Environmental issues at Bunker Hill had and continue to have national significance. At the same time, Bunker Hill history is also the story of individuals who built the company and the Kellogg community. Bunker Hill was much more than a hole in the ground, indeed.

Idaho’s Bunker Hill

CHAPTER 1

Discovery, Development, and Labor Violence, 1885–1903

The Bunker Hill discovery is surrounded with colorful myths. By all accounts, Phillip O’Rourke located the Bunker Hill mining claim on September 10, 1885, but certainly part of the credit belongs to Noah S. Kellogg, an aging, itinerant prospector. Kellogg was out of work and desperate—a condition many miners on the North Fork of the Coeur d’Alene River shared by 1885, as the gold that had drawn them to northern Idaho was becoming more difficult to locate. Kellogg needed a grubstake and he approached Murray, Idaho, general store proprietors O. O. Peck (a small contractor) and Dr. J. T. Cooper (a former surgeon) for the necessary money. According to one vivid account, Cooper and Peck reluctantly agreed to the loan if Kellogg would take with him a jackass that had been disrupting the peace of the Murray community with its constant braying. In return for taking the donkey, Kellogg received supplies valued at around twenty dollars, including some flour, bacon, coffee, sugar, beans, and dried apples; a two-dollar-and-seventy-five-cent pair of brogans; and a few location notices. Sometime during August 1885, Kellogg trudged through rugged terrain to a location in Milo Gulch, on the South Fork of the Coeur d’Alene River. Exhausted from this exertion, Kellogg went to sleep; when he woke up, the donkey was nowhere to be found. Far up a steep slope, Kellogg, much to his chagrin, heard braying and climbed up to retrieve the stubborn beast. It took him most of the day, and when Kellogg finally reached the recalcitrant animal and was relaxing with his pipe, he looked down and found galena (a silver-lead ore); he suspected it marked the outcropping of a silver-lead vein. On

Copy of original Bunker Hill claim notice, 1885. (MG367-1556, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

DISCOVERY, DEVELOPMENT, AND LABOR VIOLENCE

5

September 6, 1885, Kellogg located two claims, each fifteen hundred feet in length; he named one Bunker Hill, after the Revolutionary War battle, and one Kellogg. On each claim Kellogg placed the notice of location signed “N. S. Kellogg, 1⁄2; J. T. Cooper, 1⁄4, O. O. Peck, 1⁄4 locators.”1 In this version of the tale, Kellogg sneaked back into Murray under cover of night and found his friends “Dutch” Jake Goetz and Phil O’Rourke. O’Rourke was a gambler and a part-time miner with experience dealing with mineralization gained during a stint in the Leadville, Colorado, mining area. Goetz ran a local saloon. They later conferred with Cornelius “Con” Sullivan, the constable, and Jim Wardner, a well-known local character. When Kellogg showed Goetz and O’Rourke the samples, they (joined by Alec Monk) hurried to retrace Kellogg’s steps. They allegedly tore down the original markers and made new ones listing the locators as Jacob Goetz, Phillip O’Rourke, N. S. Kellogg, and Con Sullivan— naming the two claims the Bunker Hill and the Sullivan.2 In Jim Wardner’s account, Goetz, O’Rourke, Kellogg, and Sullivan were all present when the donkey made the discovery. Wardner recalled, “Reaching his side, we were astounded to find the jackass standing upon a great outcropping of mineralized vein-matter and looking in apparent amazement at the marvelous ore-shoot across the canyon, when then, as you see it was reflecting the sun’s rays like a mirror.”3 Thirty-four years later, Jake Goetz told mining historian T. A. Rickard that Phil O’Rourke had found the outcropping and that they got excited and posted the claim.4 Regardless of which story, if any, is accurate, once the official claim notice was filed on September 10, half the population of Murray left for Milo Gulch. Cooper and Peck became suspicious, went to the recorder’s office, and were surprised to find a claim with Kellogg’s name, but not theirs. They rushed to attorneys William Stoll and Major Woods, demanding legal action to restore their rights. Stoll quickly hired John Flaherty to accompany him to Milo Gulch to investigate the situation. After some examination of the site, Flaherty picked up the scrap of paper with the original location notice. With this valuable piece of evidence, Stoll headed back to Murray, where Cooper and Peck brought suit against Kellogg, O’Rourke, and Sullivan. The stage was thus set for one of Idaho’s most famous court cases. In the absence of any official court transcript, historians rely on William Stoll’s self-serving account, but even allowing for Stoll’s myopic vision, the scene in the courtroom was circuslike to say the least. The case came

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IDAHO’S BUNKER HILL

to trial in the April term in 1886 with First District Judge Norman Buck presiding. Buck had a reputation for ruling his courtroom with an iron hand—no small feat in a mining camp. William Clagett, one of Idaho’s best orators (later president of the Idaho Constitutional Convention) defended Kellogg and his associates. Stoll received assistance from W. B. Heyburn (who became Idaho’s first U.S. senator). The courtroom was crowded with miners who had undoubtedly imbibed plenty of liquor; many of them were Irish or of Irish descent, whereas Cooper was a Scot and Peck an Englishman. The courtroom observers and the jury were most certainly more sympathetic to the popular prospectors than to the storeowners. Following eloquent arguments from both sides, the jury (in its advisory capacity) found for Kellogg, but Judge Buck awarded Cooper and Peck a quarter interest in the Bunker Hill claim. The judge reasoned that the jackass had in fact discovered the claim, and since the donkey was part of the grubstake Peck and Cooper had provided for Kellogg, they were entitled to an eighth each of Bunker Hill. Clagett appealed, and the Supreme Court affirmed Buck’s decision in February 1887.5 In the meantime, Noah Kellogg, who knew little about actual lode mining practice, had leased the claim to Jim Wardner. On October 10, 1885, the area officially became the Yreka mining district, and on April 4, 1886, the town was named Wardner, in honor of Jim.6 Milo Creek formed a deep gorge, from one thousand to fifteen hundred feet deep, and the Bunker Hill claim was located on the west side of the creek, with the Sullivan to the east. Later, the town of Kellogg grew at the junction of Milo Creek and the South Fork of the Coeur d’Alene. Other men located claims in the area, hoping to take advantage of the Bunker Hill discovery. The most noteworthy were Charles Sweeny and the Last Chance; George B. McAuley and the Stemwinder; and Van B. LeLashmutt and the Sierra Nevada group. 7 Lode mining required considerable funds for equipment, ore processing, and shipment of the concentrates to smelters. The ore at Bunker Hill and Sullivan, while plentiful in quantity, was not particularly high grade, necessitating the application of more effort to the concentrating process. Concentrating, or milling, involved separating valuable metal from worthless rock in order to reduce the amount of waste rock that was transported to smelters; this was accomplished through various methods, including crushing, screening, and hand sorting. Bunker Hill people had to ship a considerable amount of concentrates in order to

DISCOVERY, DEVELOPMENT, AND LABOR VIOLENCE

7

make a profit, and Kellogg’s isolated location presented a challenge when it came to transportation.8 The first shipment of ore from the Bunker Hill mine was hauled via wagon to Kingston, where it was sorted and carried onto the steamer The Coeur d’Alene. It was transported to Coeur d’Alene City, reloaded onto wagons, and carried to Rathdrum, where it was loaded onto Northern Pacific Railroad cars. This convoluted route required ore loading five separate times. Bunker Hill investors were willing to construct an ore concentrator, but needed more reliable transportation. Daniel Chase Corbin, a Spokane-area entrepreneur, inspected several Coeur d’Alene district mines, including Bunker Hill, in the spring of 1886. He traveled from Rathdrum to Coeur d’Alene via stage, then boarded a lake steamer to Cataldo, and then another stage to Wardner. He wrote, “It was April, and the roads were at their worst and that, as anybody will testify who traveled them at that time, either on foot, horseback, or by stage, meant about the worst anybody ever saw.”9 It was clear to Corbin that if the mines were to be operated profitably, a more efficient system was necessary. Corbin also recognized that the people owning such a transportation network would be well positioned to make money. Corbin decided to construct two railroad lines to help solve the mining district transportation problem. One line, the Spokane Falls and Idaho Railway, would connect Hauser Junction, about ten miles east of Spokane on the Northern Pacific, to the town of Coeur d’Alene. Corbin’s Coeur d’Alene Railway and Navigation Company line would link Cataldo to Burke, about twenty-seven miles upriver. Idaho governor George L. Shoup, in his 1890 report on territorial affairs, called the Coeur d’Alene Railway and Navigation Company “the entering wedge which opened the marvelous treasure of the Coeur d’Alene to the world.” The first year of operation, the line carried $3.5 million worth of ore and concentrates.10 D. C. Corbin and partners signed a deal with Wardner and the Helena Concentrating Company to construct a new mill designed to increase Bunker Hill production; work got underway on April 10, 1886. When operations began July 20, the mill could process one hundred tons of ore a day into twenty tons of concentrate at 65 percent lead and twenty-eight ounces of silver per ton. Concentrates were shipped to the lead smelter at Wickes, Montana.11 Also in 1886, D. C. Corbin purchased the lake steamers Coeur d’Alene and General Sherman so that he controlled the entire transportation system. He commissioned the building of the Kootenai, which was capable of

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IDAHO’S BUNKER HILL

breaking through ten inches of ice and still making good time; it could plow through ice as thick as twenty-two inches if necessary, and could transport up to 125 tons daily when using a barge. The Kootenai made its first run in the fall of 1887, and during the winter carried the bulk of Lake Coeur d’Alene freight.12 Soon, Coeur d’Alene district production taxed the lake steamers’ capabilities. The system required a large force of men at docks in both Cataldo and Coeur d’Alene to load and unload the steamers. The ore had to be sacked and the sacks were expensive—from 6¢ to 17.5¢ each. Even though mine owners made arrangements for the smelter to dry the bags and return them for reuse, about half of them were damaged in the process. It took between seven hundred and eight hundred bags each day for Bunker Hill and Sullivan ore alone, so it was soon apparent that this transportation system had serious limitations.13 By 1891, both the Northern Pacific and the Union Pacific offered standard gauge service to the Coeur d’Alene mining district. The lake steamers were no longer needed for ore transportation. Reliable, yearround rail transportation was a prerequisite for the Coeur d’Alene mining district’s continued operation and expansion, and once the railroad system was in place, investors turned to other aspects of the ore production process. Following the path of most large mining properties, Bunker Hill and Sullivan turned to outside investors. Simeon Reed, a railroad and iron entrepreneur, purchased the mine for a reported $650,000 and the mill and milling contract for an additional $100,000, making Bunker Hill the first Coeur d’Alene district mine to be owned by an outsider. He incorporated the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company July 29, 1887, and capitalized the corporation for $3 million— 300,000 shares of ten dollars each. Only 250,000 shares were issued initially, 249,998 to Reed and one each to his secretary Martin Wince and to Noah S. Kellogg.14 But Simeon Reed suffered from ill health, and he decided to engage well-known mining engineer John Hays Hammond to manage Bunker Hill. When Hammond, a Yale graduate with additional training in Frieburg, Germany, assumed the position August 1, 1887, he brought with him another established mining engineer, Victor Clement. They determined that Bunker Hill needed a new concentrator with improved design and larger capacity. The Old South Mill went into operation in 1891, and the Coeur d’Alene Miner bragged that it was the “largest and best arranged

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plant of the kind” in the United States. The new 150 ton-a-day concentrator employed greater automation and reduced milling cost from one dollar and seventy-five cents per ton to seventy-six cents per ton. Coupled with other improvements, the new concentrator facilitated the tripling of the company’s profits in the year following the Reed purchase, and Bunker Hill became by far the largest firm in the district.15 The new mill was so much more efficient that Bunker Hill needed an improved method to transport ore from the mine adit in Wardner to the new mill in Kellogg; management determined to construct a tramway connecting the two. The Trenton Iron Works designed and installed the tramway—one of the biggest projects of its time, with a horizontal length of ten thousand feet. This Bleichart tramway cost nearly $100,000 and featured 150 buckets, each capable of carrying 730 to 800 pounds of ore. It was a problem from the beginning. The Trenton Iron Works contract stipulated that the tramway could deliver four hundred tons of ore and fifty tons of freight per ten-hour shift. It was difficult to achieve this goal, and Victor Clement wrote Hammond regarding the Trenton Iron Works Company, “If such is their conception of a perfect working contrivance, then the less dealings we have with them the better off we will be.”16 The cable wore out more quickly than the manufacturer predicted and often broke. One fourteen hundred-foot-long span passed directly over the town of Wardner and the ore buckets had a disconcerting tendency to dump their contents on the town, killing several people and a number of horses. By July 1892, the tramway needed major repairs. Additional funds were necessary. Hammond solicited investments from California bankers D. O. Mills and William H. Crocker. A Chicago syndicate headed by banker James Houghteling and including iron and steel magnate Edward Ryerson and farm equipment giant Cyrus McCormick purchased Bunker Hill shares as well.17 Simeon Reed’s health prompted his retirement on July 2, 1891, and he departed on a European vacation. John Hays Hammond became president the same day and held that post until June 15, 1893, when stories of mining opportunities lured him to South Africa. Hammond’s wife’s uncle, General Nathaniel H. Harris, succeeded Hammond as president.18 W. H. Crocker became company treasurer, and, due to his influence, the Crocker National Bank soon became the depository for Bunker Hill funds. Since General Harris lived in the Bay Area as well, San Francisco became the company headquarters and top-level management moved to the City by the Bay.

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This initial period of Bunker Hill history coincided with dramatic changes in mining technology that had a far-reaching impact on both the Bunker Hill enterprise and individual miners. Early mining was slow, labor intensive, and dangerous. With his work illuminated only by candles, the miner drove a chisel-edged steel bar into rock. After each blow, the bar was rotated slightly. Working alone (single-jacking), the miner wielded a three-pound hammer in one hand and held the bar in the other. Double-jacking was more typical. One man would swing an eight-pound hammer with both hands, while his partner rotated the bar or drill. After a number of holes were drilled, black powder was inserted and, following a yell of “Fire in the hole!” was blasted. The broken rock and ore (muck) was loaded into a wheelbarrow or a small mine car and pushed or drawn by animals to the surface. A hand miner was expected to drill two holes per shift. The introduction of dynamite provided a safer and more reliable explosion; carbide lights offered brighter illumination. Pneumatic drills made work easier and faster, so many Coeur d’Alene mines utilized Burleigh drills. Two men, the “machine” (miner) and the “chucker” (helper) operated the drill, and they could drill between twelve and twenty holes per shift. The Bunker Hill Company began introducing the drills in 1887; these drills enabled one or two miners to do work that previously required several men.19 But pneumatic drills expelled such thick clouds of dust that silicosis became a major health problem, and miners referred to the drills as “widow-makers.”20 Compressed air was required to power the drills and also to operate hoists or elevators that transported miners and ore to the surface. In the Coeur d’Alenes, early compressors were water or steam powered. Water was subject to seasonal interruptions due to freezing weather or decreased water supply, and steam power also presented difficulties. Mining operations quickly depleted the forests that were most easily accessible to the district. The Bunker Hill compressor utilized seven cords of wood a day, and this source of power was a limiting factor in production. By 1891, John Hays Hammond advocated conversion to electricity in keeping with trends evident throughout American industry.21 Along with the need to have a reliable transportation system, a more sophisticated milling and concentrating plant, and improved technology to facilitate production, Bunker Hill management faced periodic problems with its labor force. The mining industry had a long history of labormanagement clashes, and Bunker Hill was no exception. On New Year’s

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Day 1891, miners formed the Miners’ Union of the Coeur d’Alenes as an amalgamation of existing locals. Faced with the strength of this consolidation, business leaders formed the Mine Owners’ Protective Association, which came to be known as simply the Mine Owners’ Association (MOA), on February 16, 1891. Thus, both sides were poised for conflict.22 From the miners’ point of view, efforts to exert greater control over their lives and work formed the core of their opposition to the company. Changes in technology had a decided effect on miners. When owners could “de-skill” workers, an increase in corporate power resulted.23 New technology, the machine drill in particular, resulted in drastic reductions in crew size, so that by the spring of 1891, many miners found themselves reduced to the status of shovelers, or “muckers.” Not only did muckers receive 50¢ a day less in wages, but miners saw the demotion as an attack on their status as skilled workers and a blow to their dignity. Driven by unacceptable changes in the workplace, the local union in 1892 demanded a uniform three dollars and fifty cents per day wage for all underground work. This action illustrated the miners’ growing awareness of the importance of industrial organization. It also reflected the miners’ conviction that dangerous underground conditions threatened all workers, whether miners or shovelers.24 Problems relating to hospital care provided further grounds for labor unrest. Practical concerns about health services took on emotional tones for miners, as their work environment commonly led to accidents and death. Typically, every district company deducted one dollar from each miner’s monthly wage to support medical care. In 1892, the Miners’ Union demanded that it have control over this fund, which would then be used to build a hospital that specialized in mining injuries. In defense of this plan, union organizers argued that the company did not always provide adequate medical care, a reflection of its constant quest for increased profits. Just as it fought off responsibility for accidents and death, the company resisted union efforts to gain control of the hospital funds.25 The union also viewed ethnic background as an issue in its struggles with management. Irish immigrants and their descendants tended to dominate the union rosters, and these miners often resented immigrants of other nationalities who bypassed union membership and worked for less than the prevailing wage. The Irish further objected to the distinct prejudice heaped on them by management and its willingness to blame labor radicalism on ethnic origin.26

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Despite these various economic and social concerns raised by labor, the Bunker Hill and Sullivan maintained a forceful and unmitigated opposition to union organization. Among the factors shaping the company’s perspective, financial considerations ranked in the forefront. In the overall business equation, wages consumed between 40 to 50 percent of gross income and represented the one variable in production costs.27 Bunker Hill managers and owners also opposed the union on grounds of principle. Jealous of its managerial prerogatives, business often complained about union efforts to control hiring practices and pacing of work. Certainly, class antagonisms and notions of “place in society” fueled management’s resolve to defeat the union.28 In 1892, a railroad rate increase precipitated new conflicts and tested the efficacy of the Mine Owners’ Association. Mine operators were convinced that they could not continue profitable production under the new rates, so to force the railroad companies to reconsider the increase, the mining companies decided to cease production. On January 1, 1892, all mines in the district closed, an event that put local miners out of work in the dead of winter, when alternative employment opportunities were scarce. Strategy huddles among union members raised the speculation that the lockout represented more than a struggle between competing business giants. Announcements of a wage cut effective on April 1, 1892, when work resumed in the mines, confirmed union suspicions. Angry union members refused to go back for the lower rate. Management countered by hiring scabs, protected by Pinkerton detectives. In May 1892, owners got a further boost when Judge James Beatty, who owed his appointment to the political influence of the Bunker Hill Company, issued an injunction against union miners. This order effectively prohibited union interference with mine operations and otherwise significantly limited the union’s ability to function.29 The combined actions of the company and the judicial system served as the catalysts for a violent incident in Burke Canyon, about eighteen miles from the Bunker Hill mine. On July 11, 1892, company guards and union men at the Frisco mill and the Gem mine exchanged shots. The episode left three union members, a detective, and one nonunion worker dead; a dynamite explosion destroyed part of the Frisco mill. The next day, Idaho governor Norman B. Willey declared martial law in Shoshone County, and the military constructed “bull pens” to incarcerate those— namely miners—accused of threatening the public order.30

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Bunker Hill manager Victor Clement experienced some moments of insecurity following the events at the Frisco and Gem and wired Governor Willey for aid. Clement also appealed to company president John Hays Hammond for federal government assistance. Before any relief arrived, Clement found himself surrounded by an impressive union force. Choosing discretion over valor, Clement surrendered and closed down the mine. He later defended his action as a maneuver to prevent the miners from dynamiting Bunker Hill. Jubilant that he had avoided damage, Clement wired President Hammond at the company’s San Francisco offices, “Not one cents worth of damage has been done to our property.”31 With federal troops poised to provide the owners with protection, Bunker Hill laborers returned quickly to work, the first in the district to do so. Clement called them the “most loyal crew that ever got together,” but miners, probably viewing the situation as hopeless, at least in the short term, were clearly less than enthusiastic. By July 19, 1892, a week after the violence erupted, Bunker Hill was again operating.32 Company officials reveled in the fact that they had withstood union pressure without capital loss. Overall, Bunker Hill and Sullivan viewed the 1892 incident as a decided victory. Flushed with this victory, company officials moved to strengthen their position. Despite the assurances of manager Victor Clement that all was resolved, company officials harbored lingering fears about the mine’s economic future. At this same time, the management change that elevated General N. H. Harris to interim president took place. Harris, John Hays Hammond, and Victor Clement, all of whom owned considerable Bunker Hill stock, thought the moment had come to both guarantee company supremacy over the union and upgrade production.33 They believed that Frederick Worthen Bradley was the man for this job, and he assumed managerial oversight of Bunker Hill holdings in Kellogg in March 1893.34 Bradley was one of a generation of college-trained engineers, such as Herbert Hoover, who dominated economic development both in the United States and abroad. From 1886 to 1893, he established a reputation as an efficient manager of the Spanish mine in California, where his ability to mine low-grade concentrates at a profit had attracted considerable attention. Bunker Hill owners convinced Bradley to attempt a similar transformation at their site. Bradley, expecting his stay would be of short duration, agreed, and signed a one-year contract for a salary of seven hundred dollars a month. However, as it turned out, Frederick W. Bradley became Bunker Hill president in 1897, and held

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that post until his death, in 1933. His tenure marked the end of Bunker Hill’s early period, when leadership changed frequently and owners sought only a quick profit.35 Bradley took control of a debt-ridden operation, the future of which hung on questionable ore reserves and an uncertain labor situation. To further compound his problems, Bradley arrived at Bunker Hill about the same time that the 1893 depression forced a temporary closure of the mine; in other words, the Bunker Hill enterprise stood at a crossroads and faced decisions typical in western mining.36 When stockholder James Houghteling had complained to President Harris in 1894, “This property has been such a constant disappointment to the stockholders that they are in the way of being very pessimistic about it,” he described the circumstances to a tee.37 Bradley set about finding solutions to Bunker Hill’s problems. Bradley recognized that the long-term viability of Bunker Hill required unquestioned legal control of the ore body. He and other Bunker Hill people expended considerable time and energy perfecting their claims to the ore and fighting legal battles with others seeking to control a portion of the rich ore deposits. A number of court cases ensued, and several of them set precedents that became pillars of mining law for decades to come. Often Curtis Lindley, whose treatise on mines became the standard reference work for mining law, represented Bunker Hill.38 Much of this rash of complicated litigation was the result of circumstances that were typical of situations in long-lasting mining districts. When mining historian T. A. Rickard described the “careless locating of claims, of varying size and direction, in early days” and “the complications incidental thereto,” he made an understatement.39 Often prospectors staked claims in haste, never dreaming that the location of each stake might later be the subject of legal battles. The many conflicting stories regarding Bunker Hill’s discovery illustrate this point. In addition, mining claims often possess so-called extralateral rights. According to this principle of mining law, if a claim included the top of a vein (apex), its owners were entitled to follow the vein even if it went beneath the surface of another claim. The situation in the Yreka mining district was complicated by the fact that the early prospectors were mistaken in the direction that the main fault, or vein, took. The result was a hodgepodge of claims and rights that a two-dimensional map only hints at.40 Bradley’s efforts soon pitted him against Charles Sweeny and his Empire State-Idaho Company. Sweeny was a wheeler-dealer who was

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constantly involved in intrigue and schemes, and Bradley believed that Sweeny’s Irish heritage made him more tolerant of the Miners’ Union and more likely to employ labor agitators.41 Bradley purchased an option on the Stemwinder in 1896, because he believed that owning the mine would give him control of the Last Chance ore body as well—but it was not so simple.42 Basically, both the Bunker Hill and Empire State people were working the ledge that passed through the Bunker Hill, the Stemwinder, the Emma, the Last Chance, the Tyler, and the San Carlos. John Fahey has described these various Empire State claims as mines “strung like the tail of a kite to the Bunker Hill.”43 In 1898, Bunker Hill brought suit against the Last Chance and the Empire State-Idaho Mining and Development Company, claiming that Bunker Hill ownership of the Stemwinder gave them the apex of the Last Chance ore body. In addition, Bradley argued that the Stemwinder had been located before the Last Chance, thus giving the claim priority. This launched a series of lawsuits that were not resolved until the early twentieth century. Another challenge Bradley faced was ensuring a continuous ore supply for the concentrator. Ore at Bunker Hill was more difficult to mine than other district mines; the ore was of lower grade, and it required hand sorting. Bradley claimed that it took almost twice the labor required at other mines in the district, and the resulting ore concentrates were of relatively low grade as well. Bradley tackled this problem from several directions. He oversaw the installation of Bunker Hill’s first electric hoist, in 1894, a thirty horsepower General Electric product that Engineering and Mining Journal reported was a “very efficient piece of machinery and is an active argument in favor of its general use instead of steam power for underground mines.”44 Bradley came to the same conclusion, since the haul out of the mine was becoming too long for horses by June 1894, and he planned to install a locomotive. The changes Bradley instituted were successful and began a Bunker Hill tradition of occupying the cutting edge of mining technology. In three years, cost of production declined from fourteen dollars and seventy-five cents per ton to six dollars and forty-five cents per ton, and by 1895, the company boasted a surplus after expenses that was double the 1893 figure.45 The Bleichart tramway presented Bradley with a tremendous hurdle. The tramway had been a headache from the start, and its difficulties continued, causing Bunker Hill to completely replace the cables in 1894.

Map showing Bunker Hill mining claims. (Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company Annual Report, 1899, p. 41, MG367-20, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

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Bradley did succeed in trading company land safely away from the tramway for houses under the cable, thus solving the accident problem, but the amount of ore the tramway could haul could not be increased, and realistically the tramway could deliver only six hundred tons per twenty-four hours.46 These restrictions limited production and caused a bottleneck in Bunker Hill operations. Victor Clement and others suggested two alternatives. One was to excavate a deeper shaft, and the other was to dig a tunnel connecting Bunker Hill with Kellogg. This proposed tunnel presented a significant challenge to the Bunker Hill Company beyond the estimated $350,000 construction costs. Company officials were not certain that the tunnel would intersect the vein, and if it did, it would cut the vein near the Last Chance and Stemwinder ore chutes, “neither of which is as yet definitely known [to be] in the company’s territory.”47 However, construction began in 1897. The digging was more arduous than anticipated; the earth was sometimes too soft and therefore collapsed.48 By June 4, 1898, the tunnel work had progressed only 160 feet. Eventually, the company offered a bonus to the tunnel crews when they surpassed their quota and hired a gang of “dagoes” to remove dirt. Union people resented these outsiders and also feared the tunnel’s impact on union workers. Investors were uncertain whether this huge capital undertaking would ever pay off, but Bradley persisted.49 Another area of concern was the problem of smelting and ore contracts. Finding a smelter to purchase concentrates and negotiating smelting contracts that allowed for a profit presented real difficulties for mine operators in the late nineteenth century. Most smelter arrangements called for payment based on a formula tied to the New York price of lead; mines received a percentage of that price from which freight and processing charges (a fixed price per ton of ore, paid to the smelter, which in turn paid the railroad) were subtracted. The American Smelting and Refining Company (later known as ASARCO) had a near monopoly on lead smelting and could manipulate New York prices by controlling the supply of finished lead and negotiating with purchasers. ASARCO could also get rebates from the railroads.50 By 1898, Bradley, as president of the Bunker Hill Company, also had interests in mining properties in Alaska. He needed smelting facilities for both locations. When Bradley learned that the smelter in Tacoma was for sale, primarily due to its run-down condition and a low profit margin resulting from unsteady ore supplies, he recognized a potential solution

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to his troubles. He quickly engineered the purchase without getting prior approval from Bunker Hill’s board of directors. Each company, the Bunker Hill and the Alaska Treadwell, purchased 31.34 percent of the Tacoma plant for forty-five thousand dollars, putting control into Bradley’s hands. The largest stockholders, D. O. Mills, John Hays Hammond, and William Crocker, agreed with the move and after considerable discussion, the directors approved the transaction.51 The smelter underwent renovations, at a cost of $400,000 over a fouryear period, and kept producing lead. With the steady supply of ores from the Idaho and Alaska mines, it became an economically viable enterprise, and Bradley congratulated himself on solving the smelting problems of Bunker Hill and Alaska Treadwell while making a substantial profit at the smelter. The proximity to Idaho was a decided advantage as well— Bradley informed one stockholder that the smelter made a profit of at least $120 per day and saved Bunker Hill fifty-five thousand dollars per year by ending ore shipments to the Colorado smelters.52 Bradley next turned his skills as a mining engineer to safety. Accidents cost money, and this was one motivation for Bradley’s concern. Accidents were also often the focus of union attention and a significant component of labor relations at the Bunker Hill mine. Finally, Bradley did have a genuine concern for miners and their safety. For all of these reasons, accidents expose the complexity of labor-management relations at Bunker Hill. The dangerous nature of underground work and the small community of miners employed at Bunker Hill gave each accident a personal side. Bradley was always informed of serious accidents, many of which were truly gruesome in nature. Erick Johnson, a trackman, was fatally injured when he was “fearfully mangled” following an explosion. Ralph Drought was run over by the switch train. William Beaton, who was going up a manway when a rock “about the size of a man’s head” rolled down on top of him, broke his leg and the leg had to be amputated. Nick Whisner’s legs were broken and his face badly cut in a powder explosion; he died of shock.53 Bradley called these accidents “demoralizing and costly.” He wrote, “At the time of the accident before this one, I determined that not another accident should occur if watchfulness on my part could prevent it. But one more terrible has come and all I can say is that I hope it is the last one.”54 At the same time, mine operators believed that injuries were a fact of mining life. In fact, Bradley noted that accidents “at times occur in spite of every possible precaution”; he estimated that there was an accident

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every two months or thirty thousand tons of ore mined. During the period March 1893 to February 1894 there were fifteen fatal accidents even though the mine was completely shut down for part of that time. Bradley even wrote matter-of-factly to President Harris, “In working the mine we are sure to kill a certain percentage of our men.”55 For Bradley, these deaths were simply a cost of doing business. The company usually claimed that accidents were due “to the miner’s lack of care” or his “inexperience as a miner”—“not because of any fault of ours.”56 As was the case with other industrial producers, Bunker Hill officials steadfastly turned to the doctrine of “fellow servant” to explain accidents. According to this idea, “persons engaged in the same common pursuit” for the same employer were fellow servants and companies were not liable for injuries where a fellow servant was at fault. Thus, either the miner himself or his coworker was ultimately responsible for accidents. The company feared that the union would try to use accidents to further its organizational efforts by claiming the company had some responsibility for miners’ safety. Company officials wanted no precedents established that would require them to assume financial responsibility. Bradley subsidized the local newspaper thirty dollars a month in part because its editor was also the justice of the peace and presided over all coroner’s inquests.57 Engineering and Mining Journal reported a February 23, 1894, accident that illustrates the complexity of the situation. Three men were killed and two badly hurt by a fall of rock in the mine. Adolph Markiati, Frank Sabalja, and the shift boss, Patrick Curran, died. Bradley wrote to attorney Weldon Heyburn that “I think that we will have no difficulty in showing that the miners, shovelers and shift bosses are fellow servants. It is the miners’ business to leave the roof and breast of the stope in good condition so that the shovelers can safely work under them.”58 In Bradley’s view, skilled miners should have recognized the potential danger and stopped work before the accident.59 The coroner’s jury, citizens called upon to rule as to cause of death, found “that the Company are at fault in using the present system of mining”—that the company employed miners without the requisite skills—and called on the company to have the mine inspector come and investigate. The jury was composed of Miners’ Union members, and Irish surnames were prominent—Devlin, Powers, Murphy, Reardon, McCormick, Harris, and Robinson.60 The jury’s findings regarding the

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lack of skill among some Bunker Hill miners reflected the union’s attitude toward Bradley’s penchant for hiring nonunion miners and company efforts to import miners who refused to join the union. Bradley responded that the Miners’ Union publicity regarding the incident was designed to keep competent miners from going to work at Bunker Hill and to “scare away a good many of our Dagoes.”61 The Miners’ Union had actively sought to keep Italian workers from the mines in the Coeur d’Alene district both because of ethnic chauvinism and because they believed the Italians would not join the organization.62 The accident had other ramifications for both the company and workers. Patrick Curran left a widow with a sixteen-month-old baby and another on the way. Bradley informed President Harris that Mrs. Curran’s family was in Ireland, except for a brother working in the Bunker Hill mine, and Bradley felt some responsibility toward her. He offered Mrs. Curran a monthly twenty-five-dollar stipend. She refused Bradley’s offer and demanded a two-thousand-dollar cash settlement. Eventually, the two sides compromised on a fifteen-hundred-dollar figure. It was important to Bradley that Mrs. Curran recognize Bunker Hill as her benefactor. On the other hand, Mrs. Curran was determined to receive the lump sump payment rather than the monthly payments, seeing the settlement as giving her independence from the company and the ability to begin a new life without company interference.63 In her view, Bradley awarded her only what she deserved. She had, after all, lost her husband. Peter Oberder and Schmelling were the two men injured in the Curran accident; it took years for them to obtain a settlement, even though Oberder suffered a permanent disability. The Austria-Hungarian Consul had to appeal directly to Bradley to save Oberder from being evicted from his Moscow hotel room during the period preceding the trial. Finally, in 1897, following a number of delays and appeals, a jury awarded Oberder $3,057.06 and Schmelling $2,636.05; the Bunker Hill Company decided to pay the awarded amounts. It was certainly easier for the company to continue with the case during the three years following the accident than it was for the two injured miners.64 Both miners and company officials recognized the dangerous nature of mining, and safety was an area of tension in the workplace. Although miners attempted to utilize their union to force the company to accept responsibility for accidents, in most cases the company’s greater economic and political clout protected it.

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Nowhere were Bradley’s efforts more concerted than in the area of labor. Once improved economic conditions allowed management, with Bradley at the helm, to contemplate reopening, the union renewed its pressure. The Miners’ Union of the Coeur d’Alenes continued to be powerful throughout the rest of the district and considered Bunker Hill and Sullivan to be the last bastion of managerial hegemony in the region. It determined to break the company’s iron fist. The mine did not reopen until early 1894, at which time manager Bradley made it clear that his company would not discriminate against union miners. The company maintained no blacklist, but the pay rate— three dollars per day for shovelers and three dollars and fifty cents for miners—remained below the union rate. Further, Bradley announced he would not tolerate men who wished to “work at the union gait” and dictate to the company regarding employee selection.65 Bradley disliked union activists on two counts. First he thought most of them were Irish and therefore untrustworthy.66 Second, he believed that the union had attempted to intimidate one of the Bunker Hill shift bosses by shooting at him in February 1894, and Bradley was convinced that the union would resort to violence at the smallest provocation.67 When forty masked men shot and killed John Kneebone (a witness against the union in 1892) on July 3, 1894, Bradley blamed the union.68 As matters intensified, Bradley turned to Idaho politicians for support. He joined the Mine Owners’ Association in lobbying U.S. senators George L. Shoup and Fred T. Dubois for a permanent U.S. troop detachment in Shoshone County. He extracted a promise from Governor William McConnell that, if reelected, the governor would push for laws with a Republican legislature to protect property owners against mob violence.69 Republican McConnell already knew of the growing power of the miners through their increasing association with the rising People’s Party. This national third party group, which gained Idaho support through its endorsement of the silver issue, had linked itself to miners’ labor cause as early as two years before. In the 1894 election, much to Bradley’s chagrin, People’s Party, or Populist, candidates, with union backing, captured every office in Shoshone County. Bradley viewed this as something more than a typical political defeat, and he complained to President Harris that Shoshone County was the “only populist stronghold in the United States.” He saw the victory as a reflection of the union’s tremendous control over county residents—control brought about by manipulation

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and intimidation. As the company saw it, “the entire county was at their mercy.”70 For the miners, the Populist triumph established an important local political base, complete with national connections. Idaho Populists sent Henry Heitfeld to the U.S. Senate and James Gunn and Thomas L. Glenn to the U.S. House of Representatives. Sixty-eight Populists entered the state legislature, including Edward Boyce, a union leader who had served jail time following the 1892 violence at the Frisco mill.71 Fired by the thrill of these sweeping victories at the polls, union leaders announced a strike against the Bunker Hill Company. The decision to strike at the beginning of winter caught Bradley by surprise. He was probably less startled by the actual list of conditions presented to him by a union delegation at six thirty in the morning on November 23, 1894. The group demanded that the company discharge all nonunion employees and “scabs” and that, following company recognition of the Miners’ Union, only its members and those designated from another local be hired by Bunker Hill.72 That afternoon, Bradley made a daring personal appearance at the union hall and indicated his refusal to accede to the demands. Bradley’s major argument reflected his views of the company’s right to freedom of action. He maintained the stance for which he was known, insisting that the company’s policy “to employ men capable of doing a fair day’s work, regardless of their nationality, religion, or affiliations of any kind,” should not be compromised.73 Bradley concluded with a threat to close the mine and placed the onus for this decision on the union miners. Bradley’s move merely inflamed the union, which, by the following day, had initiated sixty new members from the ranks of Bunker Hill employees. Organizers flung back a demand that Bradley withhold the five-dollar initiation fee from each man’s pay. Faced with this challenge, Bradley determined not to cause further disturbance, but to simply keep the mine open as long as he could obtain workers.74 The sagging price of silver and the local political climate influenced Bradley’s decision to avoid further confrontation. With profits in a slump and no stunning financial losses looming over the company, Bradley advised the San Francisco home office not to send in strikebreakers. He saw nothing to be gained by an action that would only intensify emotion, incite violence, and perhaps endanger company property. Bradley felt keenly that the recent election, with its Populist victories, meant “no protection from the interests of property in Shoshone County.”75 Engineering

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and Mining Journal reported that it “is hard to see how reasonable men should be willing to follow in a course so sure to result in disaster.”76 Yet his correspondence with the company offices in San Francisco illustrated Bradley’s conviction that more than profit and property were at stake. He warned company officials that to capitulate to union leaders would mean “no one [working] in our mine but their friends and relatives.” That possibility represented only part of Bradley’s distress, for despite his reputation of concern for miners’ welfare, he went on to bemoan, “What a motley Irish crowd of old men and boys we would have on our hands as pensioners.” 77 Bradley’s blunt opinion underscored not only his desire to control Bunker Hill hiring but also how much his intense anti-Irish bias permeated his union dealings. Bradley saw at least part of his mission to be the “weeding out” of Irish miners, substituting them with “American” workers. By March 1894, Bunker Hill counted ninety “Americans,” eighty-three Irish, and fourteen other national groups among its three hundred and thirty-two workers.78 In this circumstance, Bradley foresaw only continuing unrest with the union. After two years in Idaho, Bradley suggested to the home office that unless Irish Catholics “officered, manned, and managed” every aspect of Bunker Hill, even complete surrender to union demands was useless.79 Bradley’s assessment, repeatedly passed on to company officers, held intractable Irish miners, with whom there was no compromise, to be the root of all labor difficulty. Miners believed both their livelihood and their position vis-à-vis management were at stake, and union activists moved events forward. First, they added a three-dollar-and-fifty-cent all-around wage level to their financial demands. Second, they blocked the tramway leading from the mine. At this point, Bradley closed Bunker Hill.80 Even in the face of stockholder pressure and a lack of government assistance, management determined to continue the closure until labor backed down. At first, an optimistic Bradley believed the strike would be of short duration. He sent his assurances to Harris about a “fatal mistake” by the union and “mutterings of discontent” among the men.81 When it became clear that the miners had no intention of making concessions, Bradley embarked on an ambitious program designed to push the company’s advantage. He asked for the establishment of a permanent military fort in the Coeur d’Alene district. He encouraged the formation of a local affiliate of the American Protective Association (APA), a nineteenth-century nativist group. Bradley set aside any personal

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reservations about the attractiveness of this anti-Catholic, anti-immigrant law-and-order organization, as he thought he could use it for his own purpose. He hoped to channel anti-Catholic sentiment in a direction designed to aid the Bunker Hill Company. Bradley wrote to Harris, “I do not believe in the movement generally, but think in our case it will accomplish much good.”82 Bradley was willing to take any action that would aid the company. By March 1895, Bradley enthused to Harris that the “best citizens” had organized into a “secret society for the preservation of law and order.” He claimed to know that the swelling ranks counted one hundred and twenty and that he expected soon to have sufficient support to “guarantee our rights.”83 Bradley even suggested that Bunker Hill make arms available to the clandestine group, so that it could stand against the union. Bradley anticipated that weapon-toting APA members would protect Bunker Hill employees who wanted to cross the picket line and return to work. He further assumed that the nativists would endorse the company plan to reduce wages when the mine reopened.84 The Bunker Hill Company wanted to be sure its “friends” had the means by which to counter union violence, and widened its strategy with an appeal to Governor McConnell that the state adjutant general be sent to the Coeur d’Alene area to enroll a militia company. Upon his arrival, the adjutant general received a list of eighty potential militia volunteers from the Bunker Hill management. Company officials further pressed the governor to provide the militia with adequate arms. McConnell complied by sending two hundred carbines and two thousand cartridges, the bulk of which fell under the control of Bunker Hill and Sullivan.85 By June 22, the “law and order group,” as Bradley referred to the American Protective Association, warned that it would lynch anyone who interfered with Bunker Hill and Sullivan business. A triumphant Bradley enthused that without the APA Kellogg would have exploded in violence.86 This victory for Bradley illustrated the company’s success with the dual-pronged attack against the union. It combined local nativist sentiments with economic pressure in a well-coordinated effort to discredit the union. Through its sponsorship of the American Protective Association, the company circumvented the local Populist government and secured the Bunker Hill property. In June, Bunker Hill reopened, but workers faced reduced wages. When Kellogg miners chose not to return to work at the reduced wage, the company imported miners from the San Francisco area and other

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locations. Manager Bradley realized the miners might respond to scab labor with violence, but he now considered the risk worthwhile. Continued closure threatened company finances, the overarching concern in all of Bradley’s decisions. Union members predictably attempted to discourage the strikebreakers. Union men, on the watch for prospective scabs, set out from Kellogg and posted themselves in train depots in Spokane, Portland, Oregon, and other locations. Bunker Hill workers warned strikebreakers about the dangers in the Kellogg mine, and, according to some reports, physical threats followed the persuasive efforts.87 Meanwhile, the company prepared for violence in Kellogg. Bradley pointed out to Harris, “We must face the fact that this is a death struggle for the miners’ union and that among their ranks we know of at least forty murderers.”88 With that as his conviction, Bradley sought and received assurances from Governor McConnell of state support. Continuing his pattern of backing company tactics, McConnell requested daily reports from Bunker Hill and promised that any violation of the law would be met by the “proper steps.” He even pledged that should the militia prove inadequate to the task, he could send in state regulars to assist; McConnell reminded Bradley, “A few evil-minded men, backed up by a Populist community, can do a great deal of harm.” The governor promised, “If ever I get the grip of martial law on that crowd, there won’t be any trouble about juries.”89 Throughout the month of July, workers, although few of them skilled miners, trickled into the area. An atmosphere of tension surrounded the district, and Bradley assured Harris that he had boxes of guns available in Spokane and could get them in a day.90 On July 10, fire destroyed the houses of three businessmen known to support Bunker Hill; Bradley described the blazes as “of undoubtedly incendiary origin.”91 The following day, company officials kept an anxious vigil as the union held a large meeting in nearby Wallace, but the feared union attack did not materialize. Bradley believed that the strong Bunker Hill position in Wardner was forcing other district mines to “employ two men to do one man’s work” in response to union pressure.92 By July 26, Bradley, convinced the company had the union on the defensive, wrote to Harris, “It may be too soon to crow, but I believe that we now have such a control of the labor situation that it cannot be wrested from us.”93 On May 10, 1896, an explosion under the company’s flume, coupled with a fire on mill property, shattered the shallow truce. The double-action

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attack carried the distinct mark of union activists, who, by destroying the water supply at the flume, would have severely impeded efforts to fight the mill blaze. Not only was the guerilla plan unsuccessful, but Bradley had an opportunity to display his control.94 An aggressive Bradley, once again backed by support from the state capital, widely publicized his efforts to find the perpetrators. Secure in the knowledge that the governor intended to declare martial law at a moment’s notice, Bradley undertook his own detective action.95 To the community at large, Bradley announced that the culprits would be turned over to the American Protective Association, rather than to local law enforcement officers. He defended his position as necessary, insisting he did not trust the Populist-minded county government to administer justice in the case. Nonetheless, he countenanced the threat of vigilante action and possible lynching as a justifiable way to protect against further attacks.96 At the same time, Bradley sought to cultivate the workforce. When the company sponsored a large Fourth of July celebration, Bradley assured Harris that the celebration would “make relations closer between employer and employee,” and that company contributions would therefore “be repaid . . . many times over.”97 He hoped to attract more family men, who he believed were “less likely to make trouble,” through construction of single-family houses. In a similar vein, Frederick Burbidge, Bunker Hill’s assistant manager, reported how much everyone had enjoyed the 1898 New Year receptions that his wife and the wife of the mine superintendent had hosted. The events were designed to appeal to the wives of miners, but these small evidences of cooperation represented a thin veneer covering deep-seated differences between labor and management.98 The year 1898 brought a revitalization of the Coeur d’Alene district economy and renewed the Miners’ Union activity. Joseph McDonald, manager of the Helena and Frisco Mining Company in Gem, informed Burbidge that, according to a detective report, six Wardner men a week were joining the union.99 Burbidge, in turn, warned Bradley that the men might be susceptible to “union blarney,” making it possible that men would join the union faster than management “could weed them out.”100 Both labor and management viewed that year’s elections as pivotal in efforts to gain an upper hand in their ongoing clashes. The silver issue added complexity to the election, as both Democrats and Republicans courted fusion with the Populists. The Bunker Hill and Sullivan

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contributed heavily to the Republican fusion ticket, but also made a substantial donation to Democratic gubernatorial candidate Frank Steunenberg’s campaign. Bradley, who had recently become company president, objected to supporting a Democrat, but manager Burbidge pointed out that Steunenberg was under fire for his refusal to disband the Wardner militia, another local union-control unit. Burbidge reminded Bradley, “We should love him for the enemies he has made.”101 As governor, Frank Steunenberg did not forget his political contributors. In April, as the threat of more union violence rumbled through Bunker Hill, Steunenberg, to ease company concerns, placed the local militia on alert.102 However, larger forces now took a hand in Kellogg events. Steunenberg, in response to a federal request, sent Idaho volunteers to serve in the Spanish-American War. Of the 104 men from Shoshone County, eighty were Bunker Hill and Sullivan employees. The departure of these workers brought further uncertainty to Bunker Hill labor turmoil, as the company was unable to prevent at least some union members from filling these vacancies.103 The union capitalized on the national exigencies of the Spanish-American War, and the local labor scene shifted in favor of workers’ wages. Bunker Hill officials hired detectives in an effort to infiltrate the union, but these attempts met with little success.104 By 1899, Bunker Hill and Sullivan remained the single district company not paying the better rate of three dollars per day to shovelers and three dollars and fifty cents to miners. Unwilling to make up a fifty-cent wage differential for its employees, Bunker Hill and Sullivan refused to meet with union representatives.105 The company’s obduracy sparked a range of community protests. Local government officials urged the Bunker Hill Company to join other district mines in paying the union scale.106 As the company once again stonewalled itself against worker demands, the union planned an April 29 protest demonstration; on the scheduled day, organizers lost control of the event. Union men hijacked a Northern Pacific train at Burke, Idaho, and drove it to Wardner, where they exchanged gunfire with Bunker Hill watchmen. A dynamite explosion completely destroyed the Bunker Hill and Sullivan ore concentrator, valued at a quarter of a million dollars; fire wiped out the company offices, along with seventy-five U.S. Army–owned Springfield carbines stored at the facility. The violence left one union member and one nonunion worker dead.107 An official Bunker Hill account of the event recorded that “among that frenzied mob scores of women, the wives and friends

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Shoshone County militia call-up for Spanish-American War, c. 1898. (MG3672532, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

of dynamiters, shrieked out their delight and clapped their hands in fiendish glee at a criminal act which they had been told would ‘clear the county of all opposition to the unions.’“108 Although Bunker Hill considered this as further evidence of the depraved character of miners and their families, another interpretation suggests general community support for the union position. Workers and their relations were determined to maintain some control over their lives in the face of what they viewed as corporate despotism.

Bunker Hill mill after dynamite explosion, 1899. (8-X14a, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

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The company immediately drew on its powerful government connections. On May 4, 1899, after the Idaho governor declared martial law in the Coeur d’Alenes, federal soldiers took control of the district. The Spokesman Review voiced its approval, indicating, “In brief, a murderous anarchistic tyranny rules the Coeur d’Alenes with a grip of iron. . . . The cure for the frightful evils is martial law—not for a brief period but long enough to bring mob leaders to the gallows and eradicate the bacilli of anarchy.”109 The Wardner News proclaimed, “The gratitude of every law abiding citizen of this region is due to the Bunker Hill management for its refusal to recognize the Miners’ Union.”110 The troops constructed the infamous bull pens to accommodate those accused of participating in or being sympathetic to the April 29 disturbance, and an estimated seven hundred men were arrested. In fact, any man whose time card indicated he had not been at work was liable for arrest. Of those detained, local Populists equaled more than three fourths. Even the engineer, who had been forced at gunpoint to run the hijacked train to Wardner, was arrested.111 Labor and its supporters claimed that their rights to habeas corpus were “ruthlessly and contemptuously denied.” Union president Edward Boyce complained bitterly to President McKinley regarding the treatment of those incarcerated in the bull pens. When Secretary of State Eliju Root made inquiries on behalf of the president, Governor Steunenberg described Boyce’s charges as “base falsehood.”112 No doubt the fact that the troops were African Americans contributed to ill feelings.113 The entire military operation took on tones as much anti-Populist as antiunion when, under General Merriam’s command, a wholesale incarceration of Populists took place. Populist sheriff James Young and county commissioners William Stimson and William Boyle found themselves jailed. The state of Idaho then impeached these three, along with the chairman of the county commission, Moses S. Simmons. The state charged that the three commissioners had received advance notice of a possible labor disturbance. Idaho attorney general Samuel H. Hays prosecuted Young and claimed the sheriff had the same knowledge as the commissioners and failed to act on it because of his close association with the union. Judge George H. Steward agreed with all the charges against the men, adding that Sheriff Young had “disgraced the office to which . . . elected, and . . . shown himself . . . incompetent and unfit as a public servant.”114 At the conclusion of the trial, all four Populists—Young, Stimson, Boyle, and Simmons—were removed from office.

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Men incarcerated in the bull pen, Kellogg, Idaho, 1899. (8-X27, Historical Photograph, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

Continued polarization between mine owners/managers and workers was the order of the day. Prominent mining attorney Curtis Lindley wrote a letter to the editor of the San Francisco Examiner noting that “a reign of terror” had existed in Shoshone County for seven years. The Wardner News warned that while children in Wardner were playing solider, children in Burke were playing dynamiters, and the “deviltry is bred in them.”115 The powers that be remained convinced that the Coeur d’Alene miners were hopelessly radical, probably, at least in part, due to their Irish heritage. From the miners’ perspective, the principles involved, in fact the miners’ very existence, demanded that they hold steady. Like workers at Haymarket, Homestead, and elsewhere during the 1890s,

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Bunker Hill workers recognized that burgeoning corporate power represented a significant threat to them.116 The 1899 explosion and the institution of martial law marked a turning point in Bunker Hill history. Certainly, the destruction of the mill and offices were a company tragedy of large proportion. However, the explosion also created opportunity; one company official went so far as to call it “the salvation of the district.”117 The company quickly rebuilt the mill. Just three months after the explosion, a new mill was in operation with capacity increased from fifty-five to eight hundred tons of ore daily. The new mill required fewer workers to operate it and featured a more efficient tailing processing system. As a security precaution, the company constructed a blockhouse on top of the hill that had control of approaches to the mill in a half-mile radius.118 Stockholders who had been clamoring for dividends rallied behind mine management. O. W. Johnson of Racine, Wisconsin, wrote Bradley, “I can assure you that I shall not be inclined to growl if, in order to clean out that crowd up there, you will be obliged to remain idle for several months and necessarily discontinue dividends for a while. I prefer to see that crowd cleaned out first.”119 The company used its association with the government to further its might during this period. Local government power, following the expulsion of the Populists, went to Dr. Hugh France, one of the two nonPopulists elected in 1898. France, who served as county coroner and the Bunker Hill Company physician, wielded decisive clout in the area. No worker could obtain employment in any mine in the district without a permit from Dr. France.120 Only those miners willing to take an oath forswearing union membership collected the necessary permit for work. These “yellow dog contracts,” or ironclad oaths, depending on one’s perspective, effectively barred union members from employment in the Coeur d’Alenes for several months.121 Bunker Hill management expended considerable effort in keeping their newfound control of the labor situation. They imported miners from Joplin, Missouri, and the Leadville and Cripple Creek areas of Colorado, in the hope that these miners would be less susceptible to the Miners’ Union.122 The company expanded the parameters of its control through sponsorship of the Wardner Industrial Union (WIU). To help launch this ersatz union, Bunker Hill and Sullivan paid attorney’s fees for providing the group with a constitution and articles of incorporation. Bunker Hill and Sullivan matched union dues with contributions from

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company funds, and mine manager Burbidge prepared one of the first Wardner Industrial Union reports. Through multilayered arrangements, Bunker Hill orchestrated its own union, designed to allow company influence to permeate the labor organization. By August 1899, Bradley could write with satisfaction, “This Wardner Industrial Union is now the most powerful labor organization in the Coeur d’Alenes.” At the same time, Bradley argued that miners who did not join the new union were “not heartily in sympathy with us” and therefore ought to be discharged.123 Bunker Hill hired detectives to help guarantee that no union member slipped through the permit examination and to keep tabs on miners. Reports from these detectives demonstrate the animosity that continued to mark labor-management relations. One detective reported an interview with Michael O’Grady and John Elliot, who complained that “not since the name of Coeur d’Alene had a place on the map of Idaho has there existed throughout the region, such a reign of terror and criminal lawlessness as now prevails and all the same the direct result of unpardonable actions of the sheriff’s office with the aid of manager Burbidge and others.”124 (It is interesting to note that the union choice of terms, “reign of terror,” was the same as Curtis Lindley’s.) According to the detectives, WFM officials were allegedly warning that Frederick Bradley had replaced white workers with Chinese in California and would do the same in the Coeur d’Alenes. (This claim was designed to tap the deep-seated animosity that white miners traditionally held for Chinese.) Jerry Hanley, from Butte, told a detective that “the damned Managers have shown to the world that capital can do anything,” and warned that “Mr. Burbidge had better be on his guard.” The detectives urged that John Elliot, Michael O’Grady, Bill Evans, Pat Conway, and Jim Burkhard be watched carefully. The prominence of Irish surnames among the union miners the detectives deemed suspicious is noteworthy, as is the connection between union members in Butte (an Irish enclave) and those in the Coeur d’Alenes.125 Bunker Hill joined other mine owners in contributing thirty-five thousand dollars for the prosecution of those presumed guilty of dynamiting the concentrator.126 When stockholder Houghteling asked Bradley about security “for unmolested operations in the future,” Bradley was able to respond that the state court was doing its job and that the first man tried was sent to state prison for seventeen years for second-degree murder. Bradley believed the court conviction had encouraged merchants

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and townspeople who had been “on the fence” to “come out openly for law and order.” According to Curtis Lindley, the decision “reformed the morals of the Coeur d’Alenes and castigat[ed] the devil”; Dr. Hugh France was equally elated at the verdict. Burbidge predicted that the end of the case “marks the beginning of a new era for Shoshone County.”127 Class divisions remained wide in the Coeur d’Alenes. Bradley and other mine operators also worked hard to ensure that martial law continued.128 Burbidge advised Bradley to donate two hundred and fifty dollars to the Republican County Committee in May 1900. The next month, members of the Mine Owners’ Association voted to contribute twenty-five thousand dollars to the Republican National Committee in return for “assurances that troops would be kept in the Coeur d’Alene district indefinitely, and perhaps a permanent post established.”129 This expenditure took on added impetus about a week later, when Burbidge learned that mine manager Joe MacDonald (Helena and Frisco Mining Company at Gem) was the victim of an assassination attempt, when four shots were fired at him as he stood outside his office. Burbidge wrote, “It is an important occurrence as indicating the desperate character of the Dynamiters—who make such an attempt despite the presence of U.S. troops.”130 The imposition of martial law and the surrounding events generated so much controversy that the Committee on Military Affairs of the U.S. House of Representatives investigated the situation. The investigation lasted from February 20 until May 8, 1900, and included two thousand printed pages of testimony. Although the majority found that charges of impropriety against the military could not be substantiated, the minority report presented an entirely different picture. The authors of that report attacked both Governor Steunenberg and General Merriam for violating Idaho citizens’ liberties and concluded that “a conspiracy. . . of the officers of the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mine, and of those who sympathized with them had existed to drive union men from the district.” Governor Steunenberg described the entire process as a “farce,” but union men embraced the minority position.131 Bradley stood at the center of all these efforts and even sponsored a plan whereby owners throughout the West would publish a circular that listed mining properties that did not “discriminate against non-union men.” Bradley believed this would encourage and assist nonunion miners banned from working in union-controlled districts. He also

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hoped the circular would inhibit Western Federation of Miners organizing efforts. Not surprisingly, the WFM directed an intense hatred toward Bunker Hill and Sullivan and its leadership, while the management at Telluride, Cripple Creek, Leadville, and throughout the West hoped to emulate Bradley.132 In a further effort to combat union strength, Bunker Hill management sought to hire a competent workforce of nonunion men. This task was not easy. Burbidge informed Bradley in 1900 that the company owned twenty-three machine drills and therefore needed forty-six good machine men to man the drills in two shifts. However, Bunker Hill employed only ten competent men—“the rest are men who can put their holes down, but have no judgement as miners.”133 This situation was exacerbated by a lack of frontline supervision. Bradley had Burbidge seek a new foreman who could “constantly” push the “rather leisurely gait” now common at the mine. The foreman also needed to oppose the WFM and support the Wardner Industrial Union. The Bunker Hill people settled on Tom Simmonds, a Cornishman; as Burbidge noted, he was “wide awake to what the men are doing. And it is better for us that the mine foreman should be hyper-critical rather than lax.”134 Bunker Hill managers were no doubt certain that the Cornish Simmonds would keep their Irish miners in line. Bradley hired Stanly A. Easton, first as assistant manager and then as manager, a position he held until Bradley’s death, in 1933, when Easton became president. Easton had worked as an underground miner at Bunker Hill in 1896, had a degree in mining engineering from the University of California, and had considerable mining experience. As Bradley’s protégé, Easton provided the solid managerial presence that Bradley sought for the Kellogg operations.135 Bunker Hill and Sullivan also looked to a greater involvement in the community life of its workers as a positive way to limit union influence. The company launched a campaign to encourage employees to own their own homes and established a loan program to assist employees in achieving this goal.136 It contributed to the construction of local churches, civic buildings, and charities.137 Even Governor Steunenberg lent his presence to the town spirit of cooperation between the company and the miners by attending the January 26, 1900, dedication of the new Kellogg school building—built entirely with Bunker Hill funds. Although Burbidge worried about the six-thousand-dollar construction costs, he

Miners underground in Bunker Hill mine, c. 1900, Stanly Easton second from left. (79-92.9, courtesy Idaho State Historical Society.)

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hoped “[t]he return . . . would come in . . . a greater contentment of the employees . . . a neucleus [sic] for the establishment of a better ordered community than was heretofore lived in this vicinity.”138 These efforts were not totally successful. Even though the Mine Owners’ Association provided eight hundred dollars to the Wallace Press to make it a “law and order paper,” Burbidge informed Bradley that the 1900 legislative ticket was all Democrats and “as rabid as it can be against the mines.”139 Despite the considerable economic clout that mining companies wielded, they were not able to strong-arm workers into voting against their own interests. While working to maintain control of the labor situation, Bradley determined to push his economic agenda. In late 1899, a group of mine owners purchased a power site at Post Falls that they hoped would provide electricity for the district. Shortly thereafter, the mine owners began negotiations with Spokane-based Washington Water Power Company (WWP), and WWP undertook to provide electrical power for the Coeur d’Alene mines. By 1903, construction on a sixty-thousand-volt electrical power line from Spokane Falls to Burke (over eighty miles) was completed. It was the longest high voltage power line in the world—the second longest line, in California, carried thirty thousand volts seventy-three miles. Bradley noted that the electricity resulted in compressed air that was 50 percent less expensive than steam, and the company succeeded in negotiating an agreement with WWP that allowed Bunker Hill to keep ownership of the lighting system in Wardner and Kellogg. Bunker Hill had to spend between twelve thousand and fifteen thousand dollars during 1903 to purchase electrical machinery to utilize the electric line, but the expenditure was well worth it. Bunker Hill wood consumption had reached four thousand cords a year, and clearly an alternative source of energy was an advantage.140 The legal altercations between the Bunker Hill and Charles Sweeny and the Last Chance continued and, in fact, intensified. With the Kellogg Tunnel and therefore, in Bradley’s view, the future of Bunker Hill at stake, no effort was spared. By 1902, there were sixteen different suits between the Last Chance and Bunker Hill, but Bradley refused to compromise; distrust and animosity marked the relationship between the two companies. Bunker Hill even hired detectives to make certain that Sweeny did not tamper with the jury in one of the suits.141 Engineering and Mining Journal called the Bunker Hill v. Empire State case “one of the most important mining cases ever tried.”

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Bradley requested that his manager Burbidge send him a print showing the position of the tunnel relevant to the Stemwinder, Emma, Last Chance, Tyler, King, Wasp, Hornet, Cheyenne, Wheelbarrow, New Era, Viola, San Carlos, Skookum, Likely, Cuba, Miles, McClellan, Shoshone, Summit, and Pitt claims. The list provides a vivid illustration of how complicated the tunnel situation was.142 Last Chance and Bunker Hill miners worked veins so close together that they could often hear each other in the stopes.143 Bradley devoted as many resources as possible to completion of the Kellogg Tunnel, but the litigation with the Last Chance threatened the tunnel project. In September 1900, when mine profits were low, Bradley urged Burbidge to “stop all improvement and dead work of every kind, except Kellogg Tunnel, which of course must be pushed right along.”144 The next month the tunnel project confronted a major obstacle when Burbidge discovered that there had been an error made in the original survey to determine the tunnel’s direction. Consequently, it looked as if the tunnel would have to pass through some territory that Bunker Hill did not control. This mistake went undetected for a long time, in part due to the fact that Bradley insisted on secrecy surrounding the project. Even people working on various aspects of the tunnel were kept in the dark regarding the overall project. Bradley struggled to placate stockholders, who bombarded him with requests for information. Bradley told Paul Babcock that if Bunker Hill could finish the tunnel, it would have eight to ten years of good ore prospects, and would be able to work faster and at less expense.145 This is a succinct statement of the importance the tunnel held. The tunnel was completed in late 1903, at a length of over twelve thousand feet. The company was able to connect all mines underground, suspend work of the troublesome tramway, and expose huge new ore bodies. The tunnel allowed for better ventilation and drainage as well. Although miners did not immediately find ore through the new tunnel, Easton did not give up. Everyone assumed the vein was above the Cate Fault in the foot wall. After consultation with Tom Simmonds, they determined that it might be underneath, and they mined accordingly. On March 10, 1904, they found a huge ore body that Easton described as “just a wonderful thing.” He exalted, “From there on there was nothing to it,” and he was right.146 The March ore body ensured Bunker Hill ore reserves well into the twentieth century. In less than twenty years, Bunker Hill and Sullivan went from a contested mining claim to the most important mining concern in Idaho’s

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Coeur d’Alene district. Following a succession of managerial changes, by the end of the period, the team of Frederick Bradley and Stanly Easton, who were to lead the company well into the twentieth century, were in place. Bunker Hill and Sullivan had not only survived a decade-long attack from the Western Federation of Miners, but had in fact defeated the union and destroyed its power in the Coeur d’Alenes—although they could not destroy the miners’ determination to stand up for themselves. The company could boast a state-of-the-art concentrator, a tunnel that represented a considerable feat of mining engineering, and a regular source of electric power. The Wardner/Kellogg communities were closely tied to the Bunker Hill Company. Bunker Hill and Sullivan entered the twentieth century well positioned to expand its influence.

CHAPTER 2

“Let ’Er Smelt!” 1903–1917

Bunker Hill managers had solved three of the firm’s most significant problems by 1903. First, at considerable cost both in terms of lives and resources, the 1890s labor wars had ended with a total victory for management. Second, the Kellogg Tunnel provided ore reserves for at least another twenty years and therefore enabled the Bunker Hill people to assure their investors of dividends and to justify further development expenditures at the Kellogg property. Third, the purchase of the Tacoma smelter allowed Bunker Hill management freedom from worry about finding a buyer for at least a portion of the mine product. With the Frederick W. Bradley–Stanly A. Easton team, Bunker Hill had found two accomplished mining engineers. Together, Bradley and Easton would direct the company through the next decades and oversee Bunker Hill’s expansion from a mining company, albeit a prominent one, to a fully integrated, major corporation. Workers in Kellogg viewed this industrial entity with trepidation. Thus, the period 1903 to July 1917 was a significant one for Bunker Hill. Frederick Bradley and Stanly Easton’s relationship developed into a partnership as they formalized the managerial process between the San Francisco headquarters and the Kellogg location. Bradley and Easton continued their labor policy through support of the Wardner Industrial Union and sponsorship of numerous community activities. Bunker Hill found final solutions to serious challenges to the company’s ownership of its ore. Bradley and Easton defeated attempts on the part of powerful outside forces, including the Guggenheim family, to take over control of

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the Bunker Hill property. In a literal act of entrepreneurial faith, Bunker Hill officials constructed their own lead smelter at Kellogg. The European war that started in 1914 created a huge demand for Bunker Hill production, and, as a result, the company’s place as a pillar of Idaho’s economy was assured. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company capitalized at $3.27 million, but between 1915 and 1923, Bunker Hill enjoyed dividends of $12.1 million—an average of a little more than $1.5 million per year, or an annual dividend average of a shade less than 50 percent on the capital stock.1 Few businesses could equal Bunker Hill and Sullivan success, and the company played a crucial role in the exploration and production of a great natural resource.2 Meanwhile, Bunker Hill workers continued to build a community in Kellogg—certainly a contested terrain. The company’s financial record was not a foregone conclusion in 1903. Net returns for 1902 had dwindled to $67,891, and many in the mining community believed Bunker Hill was well on the road most mines traveled—a few years of profits followed by exhaustion of the ore body. Discoveries in the new Kellogg Tunnel silenced the pessimists and had a dramatic impact on both company history and that of the entire region. The ore reserves located and the efficiency of the new tunnel access surpassed Bradley and Easton’s fondest hopes; as Engineering and Mining Journal reported, “The Bunker Hill and Sullivan seems entering upon a new and glorious period of productivity.”3 This characteristic, more than any other, accounted for Bunker Hill’s longevity—the ore body was tremendously large, much larger than even the biggest Bunker Hill boosters dared hope, and, in fact, was one of the largest in the world. The partnership that Bradley and Easton developed was certainly a key element in Bunker Hill’s success. The two men paid careful attention to Bunker Hill development and guarded Bunker Hill interests; their formal training as mining engineers facilitated these efforts. Bradley was clearly the senior partner in the early days. Easton sent him weekly reports describing stopes, development work, and all other aspects of mine operations. Bradley, in turn, read all of these documents closely and was in constant communication with Easton regarding the mine. Sometimes Bradley chided Easton for not giving him enough information, and Easton quickly remedied the situation with detailed reports and maps of the property and all operations.4 Current literature refers to the mentoring relationship of the two men, which became increasingly close, despite the fact that their correspondence

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maintained the formal, professional tone of “Mr. Bradley” and “Mr. Easton.” Rarely, a “Dear Fred” or “Dear Stanly” letter appears, usually in two contexts. Each year Bradley sent Easton a Christmas bonus, often accompanied by the gift of a box of expensive cigars. The bonus ranged from twenty-one hundred dollars in 1908 to three thousand dollars in 1917, and illustrated both Bradley’s assessment of Easton’s contributions as well as the financial condition of the company. The letters accompanying this Christmas remembrance, and Easton’s acknowledgements, included the familiar address.5 When Bradley and Easton’s correspondence involved their families, they were also sometimes less formal. The Bradleys maintained a house in Kellogg throughout this period; as the family grew, and the children became older, the house required remodeling. Easton usually oversaw the details of this process, and the two men often wrote one another to discuss these projects. The Bradley children and their mother often spent summers in Kellogg, and developed a close affinity for the area. Bradley’s business interests usually kept him on the road during summer, when he had an opportunity to visit various mining properties during good weather, so Easton tried to keep Bradley abreast of family doings in Kellogg. In 1909, Easton sent Bradley a handwritten note informing him that sons Worthen and James “look splendidly and are enjoying the fine days we are now having to the utmost.” 6 During the summer of 1920, Easton wrote Bradley regarding Bradley’s sons Jack and Sewell, then in residence at Boy Scout camp on Lake Coeur d’Alene. According to Easton, the boys were getting along fine, were enjoying the swimming, and had terrific tans. Easton noted, “The only request I had was for the replacement of Jack’s toothbrush which he lost in the lake, and this I have arranged to have done promptly.” In his reply, marked “personal,” Bradley thanked “Stanly” for taking such good care of his wife and boys, and noted, “It is one of the happiest summer vacations that Mrs. Bradley and the boys have ever had.”7 These infrequent intimate exchanges show a side of the two men that is far removed from their usual image as tough businessmen and professional mining engineers. The two men presented contrasting images as well—Bradley, a scholarly countenance and a thoughtful approach, while Easton presented a more flamboyant face. As Bradley established himself more permanently in San Francisco, that city became the headquarters for the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company. Bradley chose to live in San Francisco partly to be near his family, partly because of the social and cultural amenities, but also because it

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placed him in close proximity to William Crocker, the California financier and major Bunker Hill stockholder who served as company banker. The San Francisco location also made it convenient for Bradley to travel to his various mining interests in Nevada, Alaska, and Mexico, as well as in the Coeur d’Alenes. Throughout the period from 1903 to 1917, Bradley and Easton developed a dual managerial system that required close contact and frequent correspondence. The highly competitive nature of turn-of-the-century mining demanded that much of this correspondence be strictly confidential, and, as a result, the Bunker Hill Company—like most large concerns— utilized a secret code to send any information involving production, dividends, or other sensitive material. For example, Easton wired Bradley April 30, 1908—“Anualidad Refinacion Ahout Versuft”—which meant, “For the entire month of April expect the surplus will amount to about $70,000.” When Bradley contacted Easton regarding development work in 1909, he sent a new code list covering the important points so that code could be utilized in case any changes in development work needed to be transmitted.8 Much of the Bradley–Easton correspondence dealt with discussions of possible technological improvements. These exchanges shed much light on the profession of mining engineering and on the relationship between the two men. Each perused the trade/professional journals with great care, and they often sent one another clippings and notes, usually asking if a particular advertised machine or analyzed technique could have applications at the Bunker Hill mine or mills. In his capacity as an officer for a number of mining companies, Bradley traveled extensively and often wrote Easton of technological developments he saw at other mines, asking him to investigate their viability for the Kellogg situation. This willingness, and in fact almost obsession, to constantly question their own methodology is certainly one of the strengths of the Bradley– Easton working arrangement.9 For example, during 1910 and early 1911, Easton and Bradley’s letters held an ongoing debate regarding the kind of hoist they ought to install in the mine. Easton believed that a geared hoist powered by electricity was the best choice. Bradley pointed out that this alternative would require an agreement with Washington Water Power to supply additional electricity needed to operate the hoist. Easton engaged in lengthy negotiations with WWP on this topic. Representatives from hoist manufacturers Allis Chalmers and Nordberg came to Kellogg to pitch the

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Interior view of the Bunker Hill power house. (5-17-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho University, Moscow, Idaho.)

relative advantages of compressed air and geared induction hoists. Easton and Bradley weighed the pros and cons of both choices, coupled with the WWP dimension, and decided to install an Allis Chalmers motor-driven induction hoist—Easton’s preference.10 Mr. Nordberg himself went to San Francisco to try to get Bradley to change his mind. According to Easton’s recollection, both Nordberg and Westinghouse “spread reports all over the country that a serious mistake was being made here.” Easton gloated, in 1916, that both the Nordberg and Westinghouse companies now sold the kind of hoist they had criticized and refused to install in 1911. The decision to install the Allis Chalmers hoist followed protracted discussion via letter and a complete analysis by both men of the specifications for the alternative hoists; it was a selection that ran against the opinion of some of the best known experts in the mining field.11

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This same scenario was replayed on a number of occasions, although the system was far from perfect. Sometimes communications between San Francisco and Kellogg were difficult, and problems frequently arose when Bradley was traveling and trying to keep in touch with Easton. Information lost in the mail would require the parties to forward copies to one another and often resulted in delays.12 In the aftermath of the San Francisco earthquake, Bunker Hill officials confronted challenges. Both the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company treasurer’s office and the Crocker-Woolworth National bank, where the company’s funds were deposited, were closed to business, and Bradley was not able to contact Easton. While waiting for word on Bradley’s whereabouts, Easton opened a local bank account to deposit smelting receipts and set about raising relief funds in Kellogg. (Bradley eventually donated this money to the San Francisco Nursery for Homeless Children.) Bunker Hill Company secretary J. S. Wallace notified Easton that the San Francisco fire had engulfed the company office and “it was impossible for me to save more than a few of the Company’s papers.” Easton did not receive word from Bradley until a week after the earthquake.13 This catastrophe led Bunker Hill to further formalize its management system. Easton suggested that the company pay employees via check, so that Bunker Hill would have a payment record. The company continued to maintain some funds in the Coeur d’Alenes for use in emergencies. Management reexamined its insurance coverage, and Bradley ordered Easton to provide him with a list of all companies insuring Bunker Hill. Bradley planned to make certain that all of these companies were “acting fair” in the wake of the San Francisco disaster. After making inquiries to a number of San Francisco business associates and acquaintances, Bradley was able to forward to Easton a list of thirteen “desirable” insurance companies. Easton was happy to report that Bunker Hill had policies with nine of the companies—the other four did not serve the Kellogg area.14 As the Bunker Hill business grew in complexity, management required more sophisticated methods. During early 1913, Bradley sent T. A. Carson to Kellogg to establish a better system of accounting and reporting. Following that exercise, Carson spent time in the San Francisco office to get it “in harmony” with the new Kellogg system.15 By 1915, Bradley informed Easton that he wanted an improved system of communication between Kellogg and San Francisco that would continue to supply information but not be as “expensive” or “clumsy” as the present one. Bradley

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also emphasized that the San Francisco office was the “real head or controlling and auditing office” of the company.16 Placing final authority in San Francisco when the actual mining operation was in Kellogg, one thousand miles away, required considerable coordination of activities. Labor continued to represent the single greatest expenditure at the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company, and, as such, it was of constant concern to both Bradley and Easton. During the years 1903–1917, they pursued policies and strategies designed to prevent a resurgence of the Western Federation of Miners. The methods that served them well in the earlier period remained at the forefront of Bunker Hill labor policy— continued utilization of the hiring hall and reliance on detectives to inform them of union organizing efforts; support for the Wardner Industrial Union; and concerted work to make the Kellogg community a better place to live, both to attract workers to the area and to tie employees inextricably to the company. Bunker Hill and Sullivan, Hecla, Frisco, and the Federal companies operated the employment bureau. Its task was to make sure that no one with ties to the Western Federation of Miners obtained employment in any of the district mining operations—to keep “the lawless element out of camp.”17 Although the district companies sometimes did not agree in other areas, they cooperated to keep the bureau in operation. The Bunker Hill Company continued its financial support of the Wardner Industrial Union. When Easton forwarded a check in the amount of $1,257.25 to the WIU in 1905, he hoped the union would “continue to prosper” and added, “I would be very glad to hear of an increase of its membership both for the sake of the Union and for the benefit of those joining.”18 Easton described the Wardner Industrial Union to an official from the National Civic Federation in these terms: “The theory being to provide the benefits of labor unionism without its dangers and commonly present undesirable features.”19 The events of 1899, and the personalities associated with them, continued to be important to Bunker Hill management, for whom, as Engineering and Mining Journal noted, “the taste of the Wardner outrages is bitter still.” According to this leading mining publication, Bunker Hill people were not alone in their attitude. A survey of western mining engineers found them to regard “the Western Federation of Miners as the representative of an unintelligent tyranny, wholly un-American and the most dangerous obstacle to the continued prosperity of the mining activities of any district.”20 Both Easton and Bradley judged people according to

Cover of publication Criminal Record of the Western Federation of Miners—Coeur d’Alene to Cripple Creek, 1894–1904. (MG5-14, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

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their actions in 1899, and individuals who had remained loyal to Bunker Hill were rewarded. For example, Dr. Hugh France continued his Bunker Hill and Sullivan associations until his death, in 1909. The company donated the land on which France built his hospital after Bradley and Easton finally decided to discontinue the Mutual Aid Fund, in an attempt to prevent workers and others from making inquiries about the fund.21 A series of events during 1904 reopened the 1899 wounds. In October 1904, Bradley put some milk on his morning cereal and complained that the milk was spoiled. He thought the dairy was to blame, and his wife, Mary Bradley, called the head office of the Guadalupe Dairy. They were angry at the suggestion that their milk was bad, and said, “Don’t you realize you have enemies—that milk has been tampered with?” The Bradleys sent the milk to be examined and found that it had enough strychnine to kill several people.22 On November 17, 1904, a bomb ripped through Bradley’s front door, leaving him badly mangled. The force of the blast threw Bradley out onto the street and destroyed the entire front of the building. Mrs. Bradley remembered, “When I went down to see him, it was the most dreadful shock to see the condition he was in. He had one ear just hanging by threads, his eyes were blown full of wicker from the baby’s buggy, which had been right out in front of the door. He was burned, lacerated up the legs. It was a miracle that he was alive.” He was deaf and blind for two months following the accident, and although Bradley recovered, he carried the scars on his face and body for the remainder of his life. The Bradleys attributed the explosion to gas and received a ten-thousanddollar settlement from the gas company.23 Less than a year after this episode, former Idaho governor Frank Steunenberg died when a bomb that had been attached to the gate of his Caldwell, Idaho, home exploded. When Harry Orchard confessed to the Steunenberg murder, it fell on Easton to inform Bradley that Orchard had also admitted to bombing Bradley’s home. Following the Orchard disclosure, Bradley confessed to his wife that the Western Federation of Miners had threatened him while he was in the Coeur d’Alenes, forcing him to sneak out of his room at night to sleep in the mine in an effort to avoid danger. The threats had continued during the interim as well.24 Harry Orchard claimed that both the Steunenberg assassination and the attempt on Bradley’s life were part of a Western Federation of Miners conspiracy designed to exact revenge on those who had defeated the union in 1899. Idaho officials arrested WFM secretary-treasurer William D.

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“Big Bill” Haywood, president Charles Moyer, and George Pettibone, a blacklisted Coeur d’Alene miner in Colorado, and brought them back to Boise on a special train. This abduction angered organized labor, and the entire episode attracted considerable national attention. Although the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the arrests had been illegal, it allowed the state of Idaho to proceed with the trials.25 James Hawley warned Easton to expect these trials to be “a series of the hardest fought criminal cases ever tried in the United States.”26 The trial began in Boise May 9, 1907, with newly elected U.S. senator William Borah acting as special prosecutor and famed defense attorney Clarence Darrow representing the WFM men. Needless to say, the Bradley connection led Bunker Hill people to pay special attention to the trial proceedings. While Bradley sought to avoid the trial altogether by staying out of Idaho and away from a subpoena, Easton and his fellow members of the Mine Owners’ Association did all they could to ensure that the WFM men were convicted, including providing much of the funding for the trial.27 Easton was in close contact with Senator Borah regarding the trial, and even urged him to keep men such as Wallace resident Frank Johnson from being called to testify, since Johnson was aware of mine owners’ expenditures, and Easton wanted to keep the MOA’s involvement secret.28 The entire Coeur d’Alene mining district followed the trial closely— former WFM people hoping for vindication, and mine owners and operators seeking justice against WFM criminals at last. District residents’ opinion regarding the Boise proceedings was, not surprisingly, divided along class lines. Idaho Magazine featured a photograph of Thiel Detective Captain W. S. Swain on the cover of its April 1906 issue. Swain had been on the scene shortly after the Steunenberg assassination and claimed that “every intelligent thinking person will agree with me that the assassination of Ex-Governor Steunenberg had a direct bearing on our affairs in the Coeur d’Alene and the horrible manner in which it was planned and executed was done for the purpose of intimidating all those who opposed the dynamiters, particularly the officials in the Coeur d’Alenes.”29 Mine owners shared Swain’s viewpoint, and stepped up their efforts to prevent WFM organization in the district, particularly when Operative #15 warned in a special report that the WFM was shipping guns to the Coeur d’Alenes.30 On the other hand, one miner told Operative #142 that “it was a trumped up scheme between the mineowners of the west and Orchard

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to hand the heads of the Federation in the hope of breaking up the order.”31 Detectives reported several other conversations where working people and their sympathizers expressed their belief that the Western Federation of Miners men were innocent. Union supporter Dr. Titus presented a lecture to over five hundred men and women on April 29, 1906 (the anniversary of the 1899 violence), titled “Who Killed Steunenberg?” Titus’s answer was that a mine owners’ conspiracy was responsible. According to a detective who attended the presentation, the audience, at this and another lecture the following night, in Wallace, was “enthusiastic” and “composed chiefly of the labor element, very few of the better class of citizens being present.”32 The detective’s comments illustrate the decidedly class-conscious view of management and also undoubtedly accurately reflect the difference in viewpoint between labor and management. One of the operatives heard a union man proclaim, “Steunenberg had gotten his just desserts,” and surely many workers echoed that sentiment.33 Easton and the other members of the MOA relied on detectives to keep them informed of WFM activities. Operative #24 warned Easton that there were WFM men in Wardner, that they were decidedly unfriendly toward Wardner Industrial Union men, and that he would try to find out exactly who they were.34 This information probably came as no surprise to Easton, who waited in vain for more concrete evidence. In fact, Bunker Hill and other mining companies spent a considerable sum on these detectives, and the record indicates that they received little for their money—the company files are full of detectives’ reports, but no earthshaking information. Two things are evident. The detectives spent a lot of time and money in local saloons treating potential informers. Second, most of the operative reports emphasize how taxing the detectives found their undercover mine employment to be; the operatives often stayed home from work because they were too tired or the work was too difficult. Detective #B108 informed Easton in January 1906, “I spent the usual hours in the mine today. Having to work in wet places I’m feeling pretty rough and did not go down town.”35 One detective’s expenses during January 1906 included the charge of six dollars per day, plus a thirty-dollar subsistence allowance, fifty cents for stationery, and thirteen dollars and fifty cents for “treating” at various saloons.36 Since miners were receiving three dollars and fifty cents per day for underground work, the detectives were an expensive proposition. Although mine owners expected their mine employees to exist on

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the three dollars and fifty cents, the detectives were unable to keep up the pace despite their additional compensation. In fact, many of the detective reports mirror union miners’ complaints. Pinkerton Detective #5 reported that timbers were in bad shape and that they did not have a good supply of drills in the workplace. He also noted that the boss, Mr. Jones, was “very cross today and talked very uncivil to quite a number of the workmen. I could see no cause for his actions.”37 Detective #B108 told Easton that while he did not want to get fired, he would not put up with his shifter (supervisor): “I positively will not go the gait that this narrow minded shifter expects.”38 One operative reported that he was trying to get into the Wardner Industrial Union, evidently unaware that it was a company union.39 These incidents cast doubt on the value of information the detectives provided. It is easy to imagine that skilled miners recognized the undercover detectives for who they were, and took advantage of the free liquor they provided at every opportunity. Even when they had more serious news to report, such as Operative #24 indicating that there were WFM men in Bunker Hill, but he could not identify them; or Detective #B108 informing Easton that “a large number of men working are union men—affiliated with the WFM and they are quiet only awaiting an opportunity to strike the blow to organize or unionise [sic] the mine freely”; or Operative #57 claiming that McDonald was “always cursing the company, or corporations and mine owners” and “taking the side of Moyer, Haywood and Pettibone”; owners had limited options.40 The fact that some Coeur d’Alene miners were members of the WFM, and that miners were often critical of their employers, was surely no surprise to anyone involved. Miners had every reason to harbor distrust for the company. Although Easton and Bunker Hill management tried to keep a tight rein on employees, during 1907, the Coeur d’Alene mining district experienced a labor shortage. At first, Easton and Bradley attempted to turn the labor shortage to their own advantage. Along with other district owners, they participated in plans to import miners from other areas. In March, Easton reported that a carload of one hundred miners had arrived from Missouri and that twenty-five of them were in Wardner. Though Easton couldn’t vouch for the caliber of their skills, he did tell Bradley “they will help materially both in relieving the labor shortage and as an object lesson to any agitator who may think that the present is a good time to start trouble.”41

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As the labor shortage became more acute, this strategy was no longer viable. Easton advertised for men in Portland, Walla Walla, and Spokane, but complained that “the worse thing we have to contend with is the indifference and independence of the men we do secure.”42 Easton had become accustomed to having complete control over the labor system and to a labor situation where men were desperate for jobs. He found the new reality troublesome indeed. As miners’ positions vis-à-vis the owners’ improved, James McCarthy, of the Hecla, was afraid that a strike might result, and he visited the office of Bunker Hill attorney Myron Folsom to express his fears. Easton handwrote a note to Bradley June 16, 1907: “Labor situation continues very unsettled, men are scarce and experienced underground men are not procurable.”43 Even the ruthless crackdown against the union since 1899 had failed to kill Western Federation of Miners sentiment in the Coeur d’Alenes, a testimony to the depth of union men’s commitment. Just when miners began to get the upper hand, an economic downturn allowed Easton and other managers to regain the initiative. Easton was able to “quietly” reduce the pay rate of some mill workers to three dollars a day, and by the end of 1907, had about one third of the mill employees on the new pay rate.44 Mine owners’ control seemed secure once again. But union militancy could not be killed, and while Easton and Bunker Hill continued to advocate total exclusion of union workers, other mine owners found their need for workers outweighed their antiunion sentiments. In September 1912, Easton let Bradley know that Harry Day at the Federal mines had fired Drew Peeples and replaced him with Tom Jay. Jay was, according to Easton, a WFM sympathizer, and he ignored the employment bureau in hiring for the Federal. Easton warned that “the result is that Wardner is full of the class we have successfully kept out for years, and a WFM organizer is busy forming a local.”45 The price of lead was on the rise, and thus the demand for miners increased. By the end of September, the Federal was completely bypassing the employment bureau—marking the beginning of the end of complete MOA control of the district. Easton worried that this might lead the union to conclude that the “main companies of the district are not working together.”46 Easton sent Bradley a picture of a flume destroyed by dynamite at 12:15 on the morning of July 4, 1913. That same evening the Western Federation of Miners held its first public meeting in Wardner since the 1899 episode. Though Easton did not believe the dynamite was part of

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Bunker Hill dry (change house), 1916. (Courtesy Kellogg Public Library, Kellogg, Idaho.)

a conspiracy, the timing was probably not coincidental, and both Bradley and Easton were wary of WFM progress.47 July 4—Independence Day— had been an important date for union activities since the 1890s. A concerted effort to improve living conditions in Kellogg represented the other side of Bunker Hill Company efforts to discourage union organization and maintain a pliable labor force. Though Kellogg was not a company town in the complete sense, the Bunker Hill Company exerted considerable influence and control in a number of areas, and Easton and Bradley made it their policy to use their resources to guarantee a plentiful supply of nonunion workers. Bunker Hill management recognized that civic improvement in Kellogg would depend on company financial support. In 1907, part of the Bunker Hill holdings were included in Kellogg incorporation. The company was able to exclude its most valuable properties while including enough holdings to “have a maximum say in its affairs and the taxes

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will be very light.”48 However, the city of Kellogg worked to annex the Bunker Hill concentrator in an attempt to expand the tax base, and eventually the company acquiesced.49 In January 1913, company officials campaigned to encourage Kellogg voters to vote in favor of sewer construction. They were successful, but when the city had difficulty selling the 5 percent sewer bonds, city officials turned to the Bunker Hill Company. Easton urged William Crocker to approve the purchase of thirty-five thousand dollars in bonds, since the company needed sewer services for the houses it owned, and it would be a show of civic support. The company purchased the bonds and thus funded the sewer construction.50 The company also paid for construction of a hospital in 1907, at a cost of twelve thousand dollars. Bunker Hill and Sullivan also invested in the North Idaho Telephone Company, which served both Wallace and Kellogg, and Bunker Hill owned the Kellogg water and electrical systems outright. During 1912, Bunker Hill funded extensive improvements on the water system designed to increase the water supply.51 The company owned a controlling interest in the local paper, the Wardner News. When changes in postal regulations would have required the publication of all stockholders in the paper, Bradley and Easton decided to sell the paper to publisher W. L. Penney but keep the mortgage and, therefore, control over the paper itself. Access to inexpensive printing services was an added benefit.52 Bunker Hill efforts did not go unnoticed. The state mine inspector wrote, “Kellogg is one of the most model mining camps in existence—a well managed town with a population of about three thousand people and a number of elegant and substantial business houses and beautiful modern homes with lawns and flower gardens that would do credit to the residential section of a good sized city.”53 Bradley and Easton used their financial clout in other areas of civic life. They made contributions to several churches and spent considerable effort and money on the construction of a YMCA building in Kellogg.54 Officials from the national YMCA visited the community in late 1907 to persuade the Bunker Hill people to associate with them. Bradley worried about the YMCA policy of not allowing dancing, recognizing that dancing was an important activity in Kellogg. In early 1908, Bunker Hill agreed to “YMCA management” of the industrial club they planned to build.55 The Bunker Hill Company would subsidize the club’s operation so that monthly dues could be kept at one dollar for men and fifty cents for boys.56 Bunker Hill constructed the YMCA building at a cost of forty thousand

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dollars; the building was a real showplace and featured a gymnasium, a swimming pool, meeting rooms, and a bowling alley.57 By 1911, the Idaho State mine inspector exalted that the Kellogg organization had 480 “active and enthusiastic” members and was “one of the best equipped institutions of its kind in the state.”58 The YMCA was definitely a Bunker Hill Company tool for controlling labor; managers across the country counted on the YMCA to aid in efforts to “preserve social stability” and “improve the performance of workers.”59 During 1916, when newspapers were reporting huge mining profits as a result of rising metal prices, Bradley feared that this news might cause “unrest” in Kellogg. To avoid this, Bradley suggested that the company fund YMCA construction of baseball diamonds and a playground.60 The following year, Bradley and Easton agreed to add a third story to the YMCA building, to be used as a meeting space for the Wardner Industrial Union. According to Bradley, this would add “another favorable ‘tie’ in our relation with our own crew and the community.”61 These self-conscious efforts to foster good feeling in the community were an important component in the Bradley–Easton labor policy. Easton and Bradley were proponents of prohibition as a labor control device as well. When Idaho went dry January 1, 1916, the Bunker Hill people were delighted, since Shoshone County had been the “wettest” in Idaho. Easton reported to Engineering and Mining Journal that prohibition had led to fewer accidents in the mine. He believed that the “foreign element” was the most committed to drinking and responsible for moonshining, a reflection of Easton’s nativism. According to Easton, the closure of the fifteen saloons in Kellogg represented a positive step toward obtaining a more sober, and certainly more productive, workforce.62 The war in Europe helped miners ease the iron grip of mine owners. The demand for lead increased to the point that workers felt justified in voicing their need for increased wages. Owners refused to simply raise pay, but instead offered extra remuneration in the form of a bonus. When the price of lead was five to five and a half cents, the bonus was twenty-five cents; five and a half to six cents, fifty cents; and when the price was over six cents, the bonus was seventy-five cents.63 Easton reported a 1916 production increase of 20,580 tons over 1915, despite the fact that the crew averaged 442.5 men as opposed to 460.3 working in 1915. Easton attributed this increase to both the bonus and the enactment of prohibition in Idaho.64

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Kellogg YMCA, completed in 1911. (Album 2, picture 4, courtesy Kellogg Public Library, Kellogg, Idaho.)

Accidents remained a gruesome fact of mining life and continued to represent an excellent barometer of labor-management relationships during the period of 1903 to 1917.65 When Dan McDermott was injured in 1910, he had one foot on the cage when the cage dropped and then raised. He was thrown over a wall eighteen feet below and was hospitalized for twelve days. Richard Pederson was electrocuted when his drill steel came in contact with a trolley wire. In October 1912, the Bunker Hill hoistman failed to hold the hoist, and thirteen men fell three hundred feet. Seven men were permanently maimed, and the other six sustained injuries.66 Easton noted that fatalities caused a “great deal of anxiety,” and he made “every precaution” to prevent them. However, he was aware that, in the ten years he had been at Bunker Hill, there had been eighteen fatalities. What was most disturbing was that eleven fatalities had occurred between March 1911 and July 1912.67 Easton figured

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that Bunker Hill had employed about seven thousand men in the period from 1902 to 1912. In reporting these figures, Easton provided Bradley with a compilation of the causes of the fatalities. Despite this greater attention to accidents and their causes, the situation continued to be a complex one. The state mining inspector noted the continued management notion of responsibility: “The usual cause of these fatalities have prevailed and are in most instances the result of personal carelessness on the part of the victim.”68 The mining inspector’s attitude confirmed the Bunker Hill conviction that the company was not responsible for the accidents, and paternalism continued to characterize employeremployee relationships. Easton wrote to Bradley in May 1912, urging an annuity for Mrs. Hugh J. Hughes, who was widowed as a result of a mine accident. Although Easton claimed “no liability whatever,” he had been giving Mrs. Hughes twenty dollars a month until the last two months, when her ill health had led him to increase the stipend to thirty dollars. Although Easton thought she would settle for a lump sum, he believed that monthly payments would be in widow Hughes’s best interest, and he confirmed this viewpoint in a discussion with Mrs. Hughes’s banker.69 It apparently did not occur to the men that Mrs. Hughes might be capable of making her own decisions. Clearly, it was important to Bunker Hill people that employees acknowledge company “benevolence,” and they made decisions as to how much was appropriate and how deserving potential recipients were. Officials generally considered those who did not accept their settlement offers as ungrateful and of low character. (Of course, from the workers’ perspective, they deserved compensation for injuries suffered.) Easton wrote to Bunker Hill attorney Myron Folsom in 1909 that he was not surprised that Thomas Williams was suing the company for personal injuries. Easton noted that he had been “carrying” Williams at half pay—one dollar and seventy-five cents per day—since he left the hospital two months ago. Easton interviewed Williams and found him to be “surly” and expressing “discontent” at his treatment.70 Thomas Williams had sustained his injury when he passed a hose over a trolley wire. Williams could have gone to the switch, located several feet away, and turned off the electricity and retrieved the hose safely, but, according to Easton, Williams “disregarded all warnings and in a spirit of reckless bravado jerked at the hose, thinking to snatch it away without injury to himself.” Williams became tangled in the hose, and by

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the time the current was finally turned off, had sustained burns. Easton advised Folsom to delay the trial until Williams’s burns had healed, and not to settle for more than twelve hundred dollars.71 Another case involved Martin Jaspar, who was severely injured in a concentrator accident in 1905. Easton told Bradley that “we were liberal with him and cared for him for a year, part of which he received full pay and part half pay.” But Jaspar wanted a big settlement, so Easton discontinued company assistance. He asked attorney Folsom to have a “reliable person” watch Jaspar and try to find proof that he was faking his injury.72 Bunker Hill officials obviously believed they had a right to judge just how much represented fair compensation and who deserved compensation. Bradley and Easton corresponded for a couple of years regarding Mrs. Barr. Under advice from her attorney, Mrs. Barr demanded a sixtydollar-a-month payment, but Bradley wanted to pay fifty dollars. He informed Easton that he had consulted actuary tables that showed that since Mrs. Barr was between fifty-three and fifty-four years old, she would probably live long enough at sixty dollars a month to receive ten thousand dollars in payments. Easton had a talk with widow Barr and wrote to Bradley that her ideas “were extravagant and beyond reason.” Easton tried to get her to accept fifty-five dollars, but she insisted on the sixty dollars that her attorney advised her was her due. Easton believed that if the case went to a jury, the woman would “probably get a considerably larger sum than the present value of either fifty dollars or sixty dollars a month.” By acceding to the sixty-dollar-a-month demand, the company could avoid a lump sum payment.73 The widow Barr was able to engage in long-term negotiations and hold out for the desired settlement, but not all victims would be in a position to do so, or would have the fortitude to resist Easton’s negotiating tactics. While these examples illustrate the considerable control over workers’ compensation that the company continued to wield, Bunker Hill people recognized that change was on the horizon. Reformers and union people alike were campaigning for some kind of institutionalized worker compensation plan that would deprive management from making the kind of judgments that the above cases illustrate. Easton and Bradley made considerable efforts to frame an Idaho State Workman’s Compensation law that could have the least amount of impact on the Bunker Hill Company.74 He and Bradley lobbied hard to get a business-sponsored Workman’s Compensation law enacted, as opposed to a labor-backed

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plan.75 Easton also opposed an occupational disease provision that allowed workers to claim compensation for a disease that might arise years after his employment. Mine owners worried about this provision, since silicosis, or miners’ disease, was a frequent health problem in the mining industry.76 The state mine inspector clearly indicated the benefit of the new law for workers and management alike. There was no negotiation or costly court procedures, as the law stipulated the appropriate indemnity for each injury and for deaths.77 Bunker Hill officials bowed to the inevitable but recognized that the law would cost more than the old system and, more important, would deprive management of its power to determine the appropriateness of any compensation. A proactive safety program represented yet another method for fostering a higher level of worker satisfaction while making an effort to limit the expense of accidents. The company, for the first time, launched a safety plan symbolized by putting “Safety First” in lights inside the Kellogg Tunnel.78 Safety First programs were a Progressive-era response to the problem of worker safety, and they ostensibly emphasized the responsibility of workers to prevent accidents. In reality, the programs tended to place control over safety in the hands of professionals, while deflecting attention from industry responsibility.79 The company purchased sophisticated safety equipment and provided training in its use. Bunker Hill even had a “smoke house,” where miners practiced handling fires, and classes in first aid became a regular feature at the YMCA.80 According to the Idaho state inspector of mines, this Bunker Hill effort was “commendable.” Bunker Hill advocated the adoption of carbide miners’ lamps to replace candles; the lamps provided better light and were less of a fire hazard. In addition, the company removed the trolley wires and replaced them with locomotives to end one risk of electrocution.81 Easton traveled to Boise in February 1917 to make a presentation to the state legislature that included forty-two pictures illustrating safety measures, sanitation, and company efforts to improve the general welfare of workers at the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company.82 This emphasis on engineering redesign and closer supervision reflected the “Safety First” goal of guaranteeing that management control over workers was preeminent. Easton and Bradley continued to spend considerable time dealing with lawsuits that challenged the Bunker Hill and Sullivan mining claims. Charles Sweeny sold a portion of his mining interests to the Rockefellers and then the Guggenheims. The resulting Federal Mining and Smelting

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“Safety First” sign underground at Bunker Hill. (Album F, courtesy Kellogg Public Library, Kellogg, Idaho.)

Company represented an even more formidable opponent to Bunker Hill than Sweeny had been alone. In 1905, the Bunker Hill Company brought suit against the Federal Mining and Smelting Company regarding the Stemwinder mine’s extralateral rights—a continuation of the dispute that Sweeny had started. This second Stemwinder case was destined to establish important precedents in mining law. As Easton succinctly explained it, the Federal people were running out of ore in their own mines, so they wanted to find a way to gain access to some of the Bunker Hill ore.83 The issue continued to be apex rights—the owner of the top, or apex, of a vein had the right to follow and mine that ore beyond the boundaries of the claim. In the second Stemwinder case, Federal attorney W. B. Heyburn argued that Phil O’Rourke had mistaken the course of the vein when he staked the original Bunker Hill claim—he had laid his end lines where his sidelines should have been, under federal law. Bunker Hill argued that the Stemwinder’s extra-lateral rights allowed it to cross over

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the plane of the Emma and Last Chance claims and follow the vein on the other side—in other words, the Stemwinder’s rights did not end at the Emma and Last Chance, they only intersected. There was no precedent for this in mining law. The situation was even more complicated because the Bunker Hill people had amended their Stemwinder claim, and between the time of the original and amended boundaries, Sweeny had staked the Viola, Skookum, Cariboo, San Carlos, and Jersey Fraction claims.84 With so much money at stake, both sides aligned their resources to fight the suit. As attorney William Colby recalled, Bradley recognized that he was engaged in a life-and-death struggle. He left no stone unturned and employed some of the leading geologists and mining engineers to support the Bunker Hill contention.85 When Easton visited a disputed part of the Bunker Hill mine in November 1905, he found Federal Company miners working there, despite an injunction against it. Easton had a door erected near the north line of the Stemwinder and ordered the door chained and padlocked to prevent trespass.86 Bunker Hill employed attorneys Curtis Lindley, John McBride, and Myron Folsom to represent them, and various aspects of the case were in litigation for six years, eventually involving eighteen Sweeny claims and nine Bunker Hill claims. As John Fahey has noted, the apex law was the “mine owners’ bane and the lawyers’ bonanza.”87 With so much on the line, no tactic seemed too unsavory. Easton complained to his attorney Myron Folsom that the Federal people were removing mining stakes against Idaho law and were spying at night on Bunker Hill work. This was especially trying for Bradley and Easton because the man leading the local Federal effort was none other than Frederick Burbidge, the Bunker Hill hero of the 1899 labor dispute. Easton wrote Bradley, “I did not like the way he [Burbidge] talked at all and felt that I was being given a cheap jolly to make me feel good and minimize the gravity of the situation.”88 When the Federal people made two new locations over Bunker Hill territory in October 1909, Bradley chided Easton, “I presume you have had their stakes promptly thrown off our ground.”89 By 1909 Easton told Bradley that his Federal counterparts had thirty-six men engaged in litigation work and that these draftsmen and mappers were working day and night. Easton had walked by the Federal Office at one o’clock in the morning en route to investigating a small mine fire and had seen lights on and six or eight men working. He asked Folsom, “What are they framing up?”90 Both sides hired as many experts as they

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Frederick W. Bradley. (In author’s possession.)

could afford and spent huge sums constructing models and having maps and other potential courtroom exhibits constructed. According to one estimate, the two companies were spending $500,000 a year on litigation expenses.91 Charles Sweeny had retired in 1909, and with the personal animosity between Sweeny and Bradley no longer part of the equation, compromise discussions between the Bunker Hill and the Federal went forward. In March 1910, the two companies agreed that in exchange for twentyseven thousand shares of Bunker Hill stock (worth about $1.4 million) the Federal Company would turn over the disputed claims to the Bunker Hill once the Last Chance mine had ceased to turn a profit for five consecutive months. Bunker Hill thus quieted the challenge to its claim, but only after Sweeny’s Last Chance mine had completely exhausted its ore supply anyway. Bunker Hill increased the total number of company shares from 300,000 to 327,000 in order to make the payment.92

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Although competition for mining property divided the Coeur d’Alene district companies, they cooperated in two vital areas. In 1908, the possibility of lower tariffs on lead concerned all of the Idaho lead producers. As the state mine inspector noted, it would “have a severe effect on their profits” and would put “white men” in competition with Mexicans. Easton warned Idaho representative Burton L. French that, without the tariff, only two mines in the state could even pay operating expenses unless they reduced wages and hours. The potential danger was apparent when Burbidge wired Easton in 1908, “If you can pull any strings help our matter better do so.” Though the mine owners were successful in maintaining the tariff on this occasion, the issue did not disappear, and they continued to fund lobbyists. In 1912, the company had Myron Folsom in Washington representing them and even paid to send the president of the Wardner Industrial Union, John Rock, to testify in favor of keeping the tariff.93 District mine owners also presented a united face when it came to dealing with pollution issues. When Bunker Hill Company was first faced with pollution questions that were to plague it for the remainder of its history, it established a pattern for dealing with these matters that was to provide a blueprint for all company responses to such concerns. Debris from mining and milling that washed into the Coeur d’Alene River and down the river system into Lake Coeur d’Alene seventeen miles downstream presented the first difficulty. In 1899, farmers began complaining that debris from the Bunker Hill operation was damaging their property and harming their livestock. Initially, the company simply ignored these complaints. The farmers sought a court injunction to halt mining operations, and Bunker Hill and other companies fought this attempt all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.94 The Mine Owners’ Association became concerned as Mr. Finnucane, of the Federal Company, told Easton that his company was “becoming uneasy about the condition of the debris suits” and feared that the farmers might actually succeed in obtaining the injunction. While Finnucane recognized that there was little chance of Judge Beatty granting the injunction (he owed his appointment to the political power of the Bunker Hill Company), there was some possibility that the court of appeals might grant the injunction, and this was “too serious to permit the matter to be treated in any but a serious way.”95 Between 1899 and 1909 the issue refused to die, and several mine owners urged some kind of settlement. William Stoll (the attorney who

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represented Cooper & Peck in the first Bunker Hill lawsuit) represented the landowners—-sixty-five of them by 1909. The farmers were poor and wanted to avoid the expense of sixty-five separate trials, so they sought a settlement. Bradley and Easton preferred to delay doing anything, believing that some farmers would leave the area disgruntled and that, if they could stall long enough, the farmers would become “completely discouraged and lose their organizations.”96 In addition, the Mine Owners’ Association hired detectives to investigate the farmers. They presented evidence that some of the farmers had deliberately salted their fields with ore stolen from ore cars en route to smelters.97 At the same time, the detectives found considerable difference in opinion regarding the smelter impact—even among area farmers. Operative #14 reported that D. D. McKinnis showed him some apparent sediment deposits and claimed that within a few years the river ranches would completely disappear. McKinnis noted that “there is the proof and there is no disputing it.” A few days later, another farmer bragged to the same detective that Coeur d’Alene River Valley crops were better in both quantity and quality than those raised on the St. Joe River, where there was no question of smelter deposits. The farmer told the detective that “all this talk of damages is ‘moon shine.’”98 Ed Williamson found three dead trout on his riverbank property; he kept them in alcohol and demanded a scientific analysis of their death. Williamson also claimed that one of his colts did not develop fully as a result of lead contamination, but according to the operative, Williamson had not cared for the colt properly.99 Bunker Hill employee Joe Brown had his cows drink directly from the sluice box, and they were “fat and nice as any.” This went on into 1910, and still no settlement was in sight. Easton informed State Mine Inspector Robert Bell that there were “so many antagonistic” interests on both sides of the case, settlement seemed impossible.100 The trial was finally set for August 2, 1910, in Moscow, Idaho. The mine owners had all of their big guns on hand, including ASARCO attorney Francis Brownwell, Bunker Hill legal counsel C. W. Beale, Judge James Forney, Hecla manager James McCarthy, and, of course, Stanly Easton. They were prepared to present a number of motions, and they had witnesses ready to testify, but, as Easton warned Bradley, a trial would be costly, and there was no guarantee what the jury would do with the case. The U.S. District Court awarded sixty landowners a token one dollar in damages and this decision was never appealed.101 According to the

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mining companies’ interpretation, Judge F. S. Dietrich had ruled that the companies had the right to dump tailings into streams. In the case of rancher Elmer Doty, he and the other sixty-four had asked for a total of $1,223,000. The judge said there wasn’t enough evidence, and the mining companies didn’t have to present any case at all.102 However, the problem did not disappear. In 1911, Peter Albinola alleged that lead in the water had damaged his land, and he sued Bunker Hill and Sullivan and the Federal Mining and Smelting Company for ten thousand dollars. He charged that tailings had caused the course of the stream near his Kellogg property to be “materially altered,” thus decreasing the value of his land, since it was often submerged.103 The Mine Owners’ Association worked together to combat these claims. MOA funds were based on ore production figures, and the companies continued to make contributions to the MOA. The companies used this money to build a dam designed to control the tailings, or debris, and eventually Bunker Hill also constructed a tailings pond for the same purpose. The companies made settlements in some instances and purchased easements on between eight and nine thousand acres of land. Easton told Bunker Hill official J. S. Wallace that “it is generally conceded the whole thing has worked out very satisfactorily, and considering the danger of the situation, with considerable economy.” On February 26, 1913, Easton informed Bradley that the last suit for alleged tailings damage had been dismissed.104 Bunker Hill officials were extremely pleased with the efficacy of their solutions. The company would repeat the same pattern in later situations—seek technological solutions; combat claims in court with all of the company’s considerable resources; try to assuage damages with financial offers—and continue production regardless of the status of the claims. The biggest challenge the Bunker Hill Company faced during this period was to obtain smelting facilities for its product in the face of considerable barriers. The 1898 purchase of the Tacoma smelter had offered a short-term solution to Bunker Hill’s smelter dilemma. However, Bradley and his associates were so successful in their efforts to refurbish the smelter and restore it to profitability that they attracted the attention of the influential Guggenheim family. The Guggenheim brothers had purchased a controlling interest in the American smelting and Refining Company in April 1901; they parlayed it into an efficient organization that eventually controlled 90 percent of the lead production in the United

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States and came to be known as the lead or smelter trust.105 The Guggenheims’ business strategy was complete integration, and to that end they purchased existing smelters, built new ones, and acquired mining properties to guarantee a constant ore supply for their smelters. (Their interest in Bunker Hill and the Federal Company in the Coeur d’Alenes is an example.) In 1905, the financier Bernard Baruch negotiated the Tacoma plant’s purchase by the Guggenheims for $5,079,438.80, which earned Bradley and other Bunker Hill investors a phenomenal profit. Under terms of the sale, Bunker Hill entered into a twenty-five-year smelting contract with ASARCO; that company guaranteed to process up to thirty-seven tons of metallic lead per day from mine product that contained between 30 and 75 percent lead, as the bulk of Bunker Hill output did at the time. The contract stipulated that adjustments in smelting rates could be made every five years. There was also a clause that awarded the smelter half of any price increase in lead above four dollars and ten cents per one hundred pounds. Since lead had seldom reached this price, the Bunker Hill people thought this was a minor concession, even though ASARCO exercised considerable control over both the supply and the price.106 The contract was advantageous to both parties. Bunker Hill benefited from the tremendous influx of cash, which allowed it to increase exploration and thus assure continued ore reserves. The arrangement also spared the company the burden of finding a smelter for its product, at a price that was reasonable. For its part, ASARCO gained a reliable source of desirable ore and thus protected itself from smelting’s chronic enemy, fluctuating supply. Industry observers saw the agreement as an end to feuding between the Bunker Hill and the lead trust and as a first step to an eventual merger.107 Nevertheless, only a few months passed before the contract was the subject of squabbles between the parties. Easton, recently installed as manager at Kellogg, agreed to sell to a Guggenheim rival, the Carnegie Company (under Rockefeller ownership), concentrates that exceeded 75 percent lead for the full New York price minus a twenty-dollar flat freight and treatment rate. He also arranged to ship concentrates with a lead content lower than 30 percent to the smelter at Salida, Colorado. These deals prompted Bradley to instruct Easton to begin producing at least ten tons of concentrates assaying below 30 percent and twenty tons above 75 percent each day; he reasoned that this lead product was outside the scope of the ASARCO contract. The Guggenheims immediately objected, but Bradley insisted that Bunker Hill was free to make

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other smelting arrangements for product not governed by the contract specifications.108 ASARCO offered to meet the Carnegie price but still claimed that all Bunker Hill mine products were part of the contract unless the Tacoma smelter refused any that fell outside the 30–75 percent parameters; Easton complained to Bradley, “There are other smelters that really want this product, but of course we cannot ship to them until [the Tacoma smelter] declines to take it.”109 In an attempt to break the deadlock, Daniel Guggenheim warned Bunker Hill’s attorney, Myron Folsom, that Bunker Hill shipments to competing smelters handicapped trust efforts to control the lead industry and thereby to keep the price of lead up. According to Bradley’s shrewd assessment, the Guggenheims recognized the need to “cultivate” Bunker Hill since its ore was essential to the trust. Bunker Hill’s ore was even more critical once ASARCO bought the Selby smelter near San Francisco and, with it, total control of the West Coast smelting industry.110 During the 1907 recession, Bradley not only declined to cooperate in Guggenheim efforts to control output, but he also claimed that the contract obligated the Tacoma smelter to buy Bunker Hill lead despite any price decline, and he was determined that ASARCO keep to the agreement. This attitude did little to endear him to the Guggenheims, but did protect his company.111 The Guggenheim manipulations were of concern to all producers in the Coeur d’Alenes, and even the Idaho state mine inspector criticized the lead trust and urged local operators to work to make themselves “trust proof.” There was some talk in the panhandle of Idaho about construction of a smelter there. These discussions continued throughout 1908 but did not come to fruition.112 By the end of 1908, the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company was sending all concentrates exceeding 75 percent lead to the Carnegie smelter, and a year later Easton succeeded in getting the Carnegie people to offer a fifty-cent-a-ton reduction in freight and processing fees. Desperate to maintain its business, the Tacoma smelter offered to meet the Carnegie price. By 1909, Easton demanded a one-dollar-and-seventy-cent concession, which would have meant nearly $2.5 million in lost profits for ASARCO over the remaining twenty years of the contract. Meanwhile, Bunker Hill managers continued to search for ways of reducing dependence on the Tacoma smelter and securing lower smelting and freight rates. They even investigated the possibility of shipping ore via boat to Guaymas, Mexico, where the smelter was short of ore.113

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Seeing the advantage of having more concentrates outside the parameters of the ASARCO contract, Bradley and Easton set about redesigning their concentrating process. Under their direction, Bunker Hill embarked on a sophisticated research and development program. Results included an improved Huntington mill, use of different mesh sizes in Callow screens, and especially, installation of Wilfley tables. The table, an ore-dressing device, was suspended on rockers and shaken. Ore traveled along it through riffles, and the light and low-grade material went off at one side, leaving the high-grade ore separate. The new tables, in combination with fine jigs capable of cleaning galena, sand, and low-grade materials from ore, allowed Bunker Hill to produce concentrates of 75 percent more dependably than before.114 As Bunker Hill production increased, so did the need for expanded milling facilities. Construction of new mills allowed Bradley and Easton to institute technological improvements on a large scale. The new West Mill No. 1 opened on November 9, 1909, followed by West Mill No. 2, on April 17, 1912. Both plants incorporated the new methods of controlling the grade of concentrates produced. The Idaho state mine inspector reported following completion of West Mill No. 1 that the mill “has achieved the greatest advancement in modern concentrating practice in this district.”115 Bunker Hill renewed efforts to produce concentrates outside the contract, and this action coincided with ASARCO’s decision to close the now-obsolete Tacoma smelter in 1911 (confirming the wisdom of Bradley’s decision to sell when he did). ASARCO rerouted Bunker Hill ore to smelters in California and East Helena, Montana, maintaining that the change had absolutely no financial impact on the Bunker Hill Company. Bradley and Easton thought differently. Wary of losing control in the smelting matter, they argued that ASARCO should take Bunker Hill high-grade ore at a favorable rate as compensation for this dislocation. In fact, ASARCO agreed to buy all the company’s high-grade ore and to reduce the freight and treatment rates.116 Bradley and Easton realized that their victory would probably be shortlived: on June 1, 1915, their contract was subject to renegotiation on rates, and the Guggenheims were writing all other district contracts to expire on the same date, clearly, anticipating an opportunity to regain the upper hand. The lead price hovered between four and five dollars per hundred pounds from 1905 through 1914, but war in Europe caused a dramatic increase in 1915. By 1917, the price would be around ten dollars—more

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than double what it had been when the Bunker Hill-Tacoma smelter contract was negotiated. Even as early as 1912, both parties sensed how important the renegotiating would be. Bradley warned Easton, “This renewal cannot be in favor of the smelting company and must be in our favor.”117 In an effort to prevent the trust from “dictating terms to all the Coeur d’Alene Mines,” Bradley ordered Easton to seek smelter contracts between ASARCO competitors and Bunker Hill subsidiaries that were considered separate companies. In the midst of these tension-filled maneuvers, Bradley suffered a nervous breakdown; his doctors ordered him to recuperate in Honolulu and to remain completely away from business. Easton and the company secretary, J. S. Wallace, took over, but they kept to Bradley’s well-laid plan. Bradley’s absence allowed Easton to move from the position of protégé to more of a partner in his relationship with his mentor.118 As negotiations dragged on, Bradley rejoined Easton, and together they began to explore the possibility of constructing their own smelter. They considered several Puget Sound locations as well as Portland, Oregon, and Kellogg. The Spokane Chamber of Commerce and the Spokane Stock Exchange joined with civic leaders in Coeur d’Alene to urge the latter choice. According to Spokane boosters, “The mere fact that it has been announced that a point near Kellogg is under consideration has added new life to the mining industry and has brought many inquiries from prospective investors.”119 Engineering and Mining Journal dubbed the proposed Bunker Hill smelter the most “formidable in the lead business that the A.S. & R. Co has ever had to face.”120 Bunker Hill decided on Kellogg for three main reasons: The Kellogg location would allow Easton to oversee smelter construction and operation; shipping finished lead would be much cheaper than shipping ore; and Kellogg’s sparse population would make complaints about smelter smoke less likely. Recent court challenges to smelters made this especially important, and Easton worked to obtain easements for smoke damage before the location announcement was made. Easton believed that the plant was necessary “protection against unjust exactions of the smelter trust,” and Bradley claimed that the company would save $700,000 a year smelting its own ores.121 Selection of the Kellogg site was announced on September 23, 1915, and a big celebration in Kellogg ensued. (Bunker Hill stockholders did not formally endorse the move until July 1916.) The Spokane Spokesman

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Review boasted that the new smelter would be “one of the most modern and perfect in its equipment in the world,” and the Spokane Daily Chronicle deemed it “the most sensational development in the present struggle among smelting and mining interests for the control of the metal output of the Coeur d’Alenes.” The general public was no less enthusiastic. When the Industrial Union and Spokane Board of Trade held a picnic the next summer, conversation focused on the smelter, and the Coeur d’Alene city band and a number of citizens were guests. The Coeur d’Alene Press reported that visitors were greeted with yells of “What are you here for?” and the “acceptable” reply was, “To build the smelter—let ‘er smelt!” Clearly, residents, as well as businesspeople, were keenly aware of the smelter’s importance to the area.122 The Guggenheim interests believed that talk of a smelter in Kellogg was all a bluff that Bradley hoped to use in his campaign for a more favorable smelting rate. However, by late 1915, Bunker Hill had succeeded in obtaining a commitment from the Washington Water Power Company to provide inexpensive electrical power. In August 1916, with construction of the new plant well under way, Bunker Hill began screening and interviewing potential smelter supervisors. Town sites in Smelterville (the location of the new plant) sold out quickly.123 In April 1917, in anticipation of the beginning of Kellogg operations, shipments of Bunker Hill ore concentrates above 75 percent lead ceased, and the smelter began operation on a partial basis July 5, 1917. By July 16, Easton informed Bradley, “I am inclined to think by fall we will be able to split all Bunker Hill product almost entirely into the two classifications—one above 75% and the other below 30%. Our present yield already puts the bulk of our lead and silver produced into those classes.” In response to new rumors of a Guggenheim takeover, Bradley had sent a special telegram to the Engineering and Mining Journal reiterating that a sale was “neither contemplated nor pending.”124 Frederick Bradley and Stanly Easton had accomplished a great deal in the fourteen years from 1903 to 1917. They defeated challenges to Bunker Hill ownership of the ore body and possessed unquestioned claim to it. Although ill feelings toward the company on the part of miners and their families continued to simmer, the two men weathered the Steunenberg assassination, the WFM trials, and the accompanying labor agitation, while continuing to foster the Wardner Industrial Union. Bradley and Easton’s ingenuity had allowed the company to develop new production

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methods that circumvented the ASARCO contract. The two mining engineers are first-rate examples of the application of scientific methods to industry and the accompanying development of more efficient and productive industrial production methods.125 Eventually, they constructed a successful lead smelter. The addition of the lead smelter put Bunker Hill in an elite group of mining concerns that had the ability to process their own mine production and positioned the company for greater integration during the probusiness 1920s.

CHAPTER 3

The Bradley-Easton Partnership and a New Corporate “Star,” 1917–1928

Between the start of smelter operation on July 5, 1917, and Frederick Bradley’s death, in 1933, the Bunker Hill Company engaged in a policy of horizontal integration that resulted in the company becoming one of the few in the United States to mine, mill, smelt, refine, manufacture, and market lead. Bunker Hill entered the zinc business when Bradley and Stanly Easton purchased the Star mine at Burke and constructed an electrolytic zinc plant to process its ores. Although workers again failed to establish a bona fide labor organization, they benefited from expanded demand for metals during World War I. By the end of the 1920s, Bradley and Easton had achieved professional success and national recognition for their managerial accomplishments in making the Bunker Hill Company a leader in the metallurgical field. They were at the forefront of an engineering initiative that transformed mining into an integrated industrial process. But first they had to deal with the fallout their lead smelter construction created. True to Bradley’s predictions, the American Smelting and Refining Company brought suit and sought an injunction to prevent the new lead smelter from operating. According to the claim, the smelter endangered ASARCO’s business, not just because it denied the company ore and was a competitor, but also because Bunker Hill ore was “the most desirable” of any in the Coeur d’Alene district. In fact, ASARCO maintained that no other mine in the United States could supply comparable ore. It also argued that Bunker Hill knew all along that it would be challenged in court and that it had actually built the smelter “with the sole and only

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purpose of evading its obligations” under the contract. Indeed, Bunker Hill had knowingly planned this evasion since late 1915 or early 1916.1 The court hearing began on October 18, 1917, and, in January 1918, the court ruled that Bunker Hill had to concentrate ore in the same “manner” it had in the past and sell those concentrates between 30 percent and 75 percent to the Guggenheims. However, since the injunction spoke of method, not quantity, Bradley urged Easton to limit the amount sent to ASARCO. Moreover, beginning February 1, each letter, ore statement, or other paper that went to the Guggenheim organization bore the stamp “Subject to final decision in the case of American Smelting and Refining Co. versus undersigned and without waiving any claims or contentions made by us in said case.”2 When it became clear that Bunker Hill was prepared to fight to the end, the Guggenheims sought a compromise. Eventually, both sides agreed that Bunker Hill was to ship half of its concentrates to ASARCO smelters until the expiration date of the original contract—February 1, 1930; the amount shipped was to be at least 227,737 tons of metallic lead.3 Careful planning allowed Bunker Hill to fulfill its obligation to ASARCO and still operate the smelter at a profit. Accordingly, in September 1919, the Guggenheims offered to lease the Bunker Hill smelter for a ten-year period; Bradley and Easton declined the offer. The smelter’s $2.5 million construction costs had been paid entirely from profits remaining after payment of stockholder dividends, which had lowered the company’s taxes. This favorable financial situation led Bradley and Easton to forgo the certainty of the Guggenheim lease.4 They gambled and won: the smelter earned large profits. In the spring of 1920, they purchased a controlling interest in the Northwest Lead Company, in Seattle; the company produced lead plumbing supplies and white lead, and thereby assured Bradley and Easton of an outlet for some of the smelter’s production. At last Bunker Hill controlled its business from raw material through finished product. The Bunker Hill Company became a fully integrated business enterprise, breaking the lead trust’s grip on its future and on that of the inland Northwest. Of course, shortly after the lead smelter began operation, the United States entered World War I, which had a dramatic impact on Kellogg and on the operation of the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company. 5 In some ways the war represented the high point of the Bunker Hill labor policy designed to foster community involvement and esprit de corps in an effort to discourage labor activism. The greater demand for lead and resulting

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higher lead prices provided a real impetus for production, but were coupled with pronounced labor shortages. At the same time the company found itself involved on a much more day-to-day basis with the federal government in a variety of ways—the War Industries Board, the government as consumer, and the government as intervener in labor issues. Finally, the stresses of the war led to another episode of labor activism. This time the company was even more triumphant in controlling labor with the Bradley-Easton labor policy of fostering the Wardner Industrial Union, attempting to grant labor concessions when necessary to ward off union organization, and sticking to its labor policy despite pressures from other district owners and operators. Just as was true in the rest of the country, U.S. entry into World War I launched a wave of patriotism in Kellogg. The company sponsored mass meetings and advertised, “Americans! Your Country Calls You.”6 Easton and Bradley recognized early that the war would not only spur demand for Bunker Hill products, but would also provide a patriotic blanket for many company policies. By June 1917, Bunker Hill had launched a companywide program to encourage employees to purchase Liberty Bonds. Employees were allowed to buy the bonds via monthly payroll deductions, with the company maintaining possession of the bonds until the last payment was made. Bradley suggested that the bonus employees were receiving due to the high price of lead be paid in a separate check and that workers be encouraged to use the bonus check to purchase Liberty Bonds. Bradley urged Easton to appeal to the workers’ patriotism, while pointing out that the “real idea is to impress upon the employee that the bonus is separate and distinct from his regular wages.”7 This would allow Bradley and Easton to end the bonus if the price of lead declined. The nationalistic appeals were successful; at a June meeting of the Wardner Industrial Union, Bunker Hill workers handed in subscriptions for ten thousand dollars worth of Liberty Bonds. Easton noted that Germans and Austrians were particularly anxious to purchase the bonds, no doubt in an effort to prove their loyalty. Easton could not resist noting that the Finns among the Bunker Hill crew had purchased no bonds, confirming Easton’s notion that they were “of all European material . . . the poorest for citizens.” (It was no coincidence that Finnish workers were often union militants.) By the end of summer, Bunker Hill employees (including supervisory workers) had purchased $41,530 worth of bonds.8

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Stanly A. Easton. (MG520-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

Kellogg remained a small, close-knit community, nearly a company town. Consequently, the war’s demand for manpower touched almost everyone, and certainly the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company. By the end of 1918, 264 Bunker Hill workers—almost 25 percent of the entire workforce—had left to enter war service.9 Many Kellogg boys were stationed at San Francisco’s Presidio or Goat Island, and Bradley made sure that he had all of their names (even if they were relative newcomers to Kellogg) so that he could check on them. This kind of personal attention was not at all uncommon and characterized the Bradley-Easton notion of the proper relationship between management and workers.10 No doubt Kellogg people were pleased to have a way to establish personal contact with their relatives in the service. Bradley and Easton launched a number of programs designed to encourage wartime sacrifice but also consciously to strengthen ties between employees and the company. Dependents of employees serving

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World War I Honor Roll, 1919, displayed in Bunker Hill offices. (MG367-2532-WW1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

in the armed forces were given free rent in company houses.11 The company flew a “service flag” with a star for each Bunker Hill worker on active duty. Bradley commended Easton for this symbolic act and noted that the flag’s “conspicuous position should continually command the interest and loyalty of the crew.”12 Bradley suggested to Easton that a company newsletter might be a strategy to maintain contact with employees in the armed forces; Easton agreed, and the Bunker Bullion was the result. The publication included local news and information about goings on at the mine and mill. Bradley wrote to Easton regarding the Bullion, “A tie of this kind between the company and its employees is of value as we were about to enter what may prove a period of dissatisfaction and agitation.”13 An Easton article paying tribute to employees who had lost their lives also earned Bradley’s praise. The December 16, 1918, issue

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spotlighted an imaginary banquet honoring all of the servicemen. The menu included Roast Wild Turkey garnished with Allied Bayonets and Creamed Peace in Shells. On March 31, 1919, the Kellogg community honored its returning “heroes” in person. Easton gave a speech, and then the community marched to the Bunker Hill offices, where a bronze tablet commemorating those who had died was unveiled. Each man was a former employee of the Bunker Hill Company. The tablet was purchased with subscriptions from the Bunker Hill crew, with twenty-four cents being the largest amount accepted; it included fifteen gold stars and remained in the Bunker Hill offices until the company closed—yet another example of the role the company played in the community.14 Despite the difficulty of keeping a crew together due to the demands of the war, the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company enjoyed tremendous profits during this period. As early as April 1917, Easton reported to Bradley that the profit for that month alone was close to $400,000. By the beginning of 1918, lead producers were trying to predict exactly how much demand the government would have for metals, and during much of the year the entire Bunker Hill smelter output was sold to the federal government.15 The government had a wider impact on company operation as it exercised greater control over the economy. Congress made it more difficult to acquire explosives, and of course these were essential for mine operation. There were shortages of supplies and materials, and Bradley used all of his influence to make certain that Bunker Hill received priority certificates from the government for a new pump, equipment for a third blast furnace, and batteries from the Edison Storage Battery Company. Since the U.S. government had commandeered the entire output of the Edison Storage Battery Company in Seattle, Bunker Hill had to exercise its clout in an effort to obtain a battery. The Bunker Hill purchasing agent informed the government that since his company was selling at least two thirds of its output to the government, it ought to get the priority certificate, and he was successful.16 Bradley was a member of the six-man Committee on Lead for the Advisory Commission of the Council of National Defense. The committee agreed on the amount that lead producers would provide to the U.S. government and set the price in 1917 at eight cents a pound, delivered to East St. Louis. The committee was very powerful since the railroads would not move any lead without the cars having an authorization number assigned by the committee. Though Bradley sat on the committee,

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he did not trust it, calling its membership “80% Guggenheim.” On one occasion he wrote to Easton referring to them as a “lot of Germans,” and he believed the Guggenheims manipulated the War Industries Board for their own devices, long after the war emergency was over.17 In late 1918, when the committee wanted producers to curtail production in response to declining governmental demand, Bradley was adamantly opposed and wired his distributors that “we consider the Lead Committee has no control over . . . our operations as producers of lead.”18 Bradley continued his policy of keeping Bunker Hill and Sullivan independent of the Guggenheim-dominated lead industry. At the same time, the war created a severe labor shortage in Kellogg, as workers joined the military or traveled to Butte and the Pacific Coast to seek higher-paying jobs. By July 1918, Easton noted that they had only about half as many men in the mine as they had the year before. Bunker Hill was forced to pay increased bonuses and also applied to get deferred classification for all of the smelter employees. Soon Coeur d’Alene district operators began to lobby for furloughs for skilled miners who were already in the armed forces; the operators thought the furlough system was better than deferments, since the furlough was only in effect so long as the man was actually working in an essential industry. The American Mining Congress provided its members suggestions on how to operate the furlough system.19 However, many men in Idaho’s Silver Valley—like the rest of the country—wanted to serve in the military out of patriotism and a sense of adventure. The Bunker Bullion noted that the labor shortage was so severe that women had been hired for a number of commercial positions in Kellogg. The Bullion went on to assure readers, “This condition does not mean that the men cannot have their jobs back when they return home after annihilating the Kaiser and his gang, for it has been legislated that the returned men are to marry the girls, thus create the vacancies and grab the jobs.”20 Bunker Hill operators were not alone in viewing women’s wartime employment as a temporary aberration. As the labor shortage continued, conditions provided an opportunity for the Western Federation of Miners to renew its efforts to organize the district and fostered a resurrection of Coeur d’Alene district fear of radical groups. Once again, the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company found itself at the forefront of managerial efforts to defeat the union. Finding that other mine operators were no longer interested in maintaining the employment office, Hecla and Bunker Hill had closed it in

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1916. Within a few months Easton complained to Bradley that “undesirables” had entered the district, and all of the mines east of Kellogg, except the Hecla, were “full of roughs and renegades from Butte.” Rumors of radical activity ran rampant. D. L. Huntington of the Washington Water Power Company wrote a confidential letter to Easton informing him that he had contacted the U.S. Army commanding general in San Francisco and requested military protection for his company’s power stations. Huntington pointed out the importance of the mining and concentrating works that were one of WWP’s major customers and noted that the Bunker Hill smelter would soon be in operation. He urged Easton to support his request, but Easton believed it was unrealistic to try to guard the extensive WWP holdings or the Bunker Hill plants.21 The Bunker Hill Company did hire more watchmen and installed a number of new electric lights to protect the property from the “possible depredations of any alien fanatics,” while continuing to encourage the patriotic spirit of people in Kellogg.22 Clearly, Huntington’s and Easton’s concerns reflected their historic attitude toward the Industrial Workers of the World, particularly in light of the IWW connection with the Western Federation of Miners. But the war fostered super-patriotism and heightened fears of subversion. A Coeur d’Alene man alleged to have insulted the flag was deemed insane and committed to the state institution at Orofino. This incident serves to underline north Idaho’s conception of loyalty to the United States.23 By the summer of 1917, the situation appeared to become more critical to many Idahoans as the United States became an actual belligerent. When Butte miners went on strike, mine owners in the Coeur d’Alenes became fearful. Rumors spread that pickets and organizers in the Coeur d’Alene district were paid with German money. Easton informed Bradley that the local telegraph company had reported to him that IWW leaders were receiving money “in amounts as high as $500.00,” and that the IWW campaign was a well-organized and well-financed effort to shut down all Northwest industries. Easton noted the public fear that the Germans were funding this effort and warned, “If we are invaded by a large number of radical and desperate agitators, there is no saying just what will occur.”24 Easton passed a warning he received from George Huston in Mullan on to Bradley and indicated that he believed Huston was telling the truth when he wrote, “The conditions can be laid to ‘German influence,’ but bah, that is only an effect, not a cause. A rotten policy furnishes the fertile soil, and the Hun simply does the seeding.”25 Easton, Bradley, and

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others believed that their old labor nemesis was at the root of dissatisfaction in the Coeur d’Alene mining district. The opening of the Bunker Hill smelter coincided with this heightened apprehension regarding IWW activity. Indeed, the smelter seemed a perfect target for IWW tactics. While area miners had been notoriously difficult to organize due to their heritage of independence, the smelter featured a large number of workers with no such history who labored inside the confines of the plant, not spread throughout the large tunnel complex of the mine. Easton reported that IWW speakers on the “Streets of Spokane,” Washington, were calling the Bunker Hill smelter “their special point of attack.” City officials in Kellogg swore in one hundred extra police officers and had a list of five hundred others who were willing to serve if necessary; the mayor declared, “We will not tolerate the IWW German spy organizer here.”26 The Spokesman Review and other area newspapers fanned the frenzy; one editorial warned, “A reign of terror has struck northern Idaho. Life and property are being held in the balance. IWW are spreading all over the state. It is time for all sections of Idaho both north and south, to form citizen bodies for the protection of their life and property.” In fact, Defense Councils were organized throughout the state and advised the governor to send troops to the north, but Governor Moses Alexander maintained that local law enforcement had the situation in hand.27 Just as the Bunker Hill and Sullivan had used the American Protective Association to combat labor militancy in the 1890s, so it relied on local sentiment to accomplish the same end in 1917–1918. Bradley and Easton worried about IWW circulars that were making the rounds of Kellogg workers. Bradley confessed to Easton that if Bunker Hill was not treating its employees fairly, he thought the IWW might make headway. However, in light of the Liberty Bond and Red Cross subscriptions Bunker Hill workers had made, Bradley was confident that Bunker Hill men would be loyal. He believed Governor Alexander was “mighty weak-kneed,” but praised Kellogg city officials. As always, Bradley had Bunker Hill interests uppermost in his mind, and he did not hesitate to exploit conditions to benefit the company. He ordered Easton to use the IWW situation “as a good excuse” to stop publishing dividend information.28 For his part, Easton was pleased to report that a company of U.S. infantry had been stationed in Wallace on August 17, and “their presence is believed to have had a quieting effect on the radical agitators who were heretofore making some headway.” In addition, the sheriff

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had deputized forty-six “old, dependable” Bunker Hill employees in an effort to guarantee that the company holdings would have protection.29 The close Bunker Hill connection with local authorities and the local power structure was definitely evident, to the detriment of any group seeking to undermine company hegemony. However, the Bunker Hill actions appear tame in comparison with those of Phelps Dodge in the infamous Bisbee Deportation.30 Throughout 1918, The Coeur d’Alene district labor shortage became more acute.31 This spurred Bunker Hill smelter workers to make demands upon company management and marked a labor militancy among smelter employees that continued throughout the remainder of Bunker Hill history. Most of the smelter workers were new to the company, and had none of the close company ties that Easton had worked so diligently to cultivate since the 1890s. Even Easton admitted that the smelter workers put up with “intense heat and the discomforts of smoke and dust.”32 By the fall of 1918 Easton and Bradley were aware that the American Federation of Labor was also organizing in the district. The two Bunker Hill men were convinced that the government was in fact aiding and abetting these AFL efforts in an attempt to reward Samuel Gompers (AFL president) and the AFL for supporting the war effort. Governor Alexander’s personal representative tried to convince Easton that AFL unions represented a good strategy for counteracting IWW organizing. Easton was not buying that argument. Charles Moyer was the leader of the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers, the AFL union organizing miners. Moyer was a former president of the Western Federation of Miners, the longtime Bunker Hill nemesis, and in reality the IUMMSW was the successor to the WFM. Easton and others in the Coeur d’Alene district believed that the War Labor Board had facilitated Gompers’ efforts and called the board’s Felix Frankfurter the “Hot Dog of War.” Easton promised, “If it ever comes to a show down with us, I would rather that the National War Labor Board or its Idaho subsidiary deal directly with the Wardner Industrial Union, rather than that we ourselves should be compelled to sacrifice our local people to Moyer’s Union.”33 Bradley’s 1890s experiences made him even more strident in his opposition to Moyer. Decrying the fact that economic conditions were aiding Moyer’s organizing efforts at the smelter, Bradley noted, “It is too bad that a red-handed murderer, as Moyer is, can influence our Smelter employees to pay tribute to him rather than to join in and be part of the Kellogg community as we have tried to foster it.”34 The Bunker Hill and

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Sullivan Company management showed little sign of any amelioration in their antiunion stance and expected workers to fall into line. The Spokesman Review commended Bradley for his policy of sticking by loyal workers in Kellogg, even though demand for metals was decreasing, as well as his promise to rehire men who left Kellogg to serve in the military.35 Despite this praise, soon Easton and Bradley began to consider a wage cut, and a meeting of Coeur d’Alene mine operators concluded that a one-dollar reduction was in order. Although Easton and Bradley would have preferred a less drastic cut, they went along, and Bradley urged Easton to make sure that the company used the other mines’ lower wages to “get rid of Moyer’s influence and followers once and for all.” Easton did limit smelter production to one furnace, which enabled him to substantially reduce the crew, including a “considerable number of inefficients and undesireables [sic].”36 Despite Easton’s efforts, the union continued its activities. Easton sent Bradley a copy of a handbill announcing that D. C. Coates, “one of the most prominent labor leaders in the country,” was making an appearance under the auspices of Mine, Mill and Smeltermen’s Union No. 18. According to Easton, about two hundred men attended the meeting “to hear this party of whom you know from the past.”37 The twenty years that separated 1919 from the 1899 episode were not enough to dull either Bradley’s or Easton’s memory or convictions regarding labor organizers and/or organizations. In this atmosphere the labor shortage became more pronounced. On March 5, 1919, there were 395 men employed in the Bunker Hill mine, but on April 7, Easton could only find 320, and the decline had been steady. By the end of the month, Easton was forced to shut the mill down on Sundays, operate only one smelter blast furnace, and delay the start of a new shaft at the mine. Easton and Bradley speculated that perhaps it had been a mistake to lower the bonus, and they indicated that the cost of living was not going down as fast as they had hoped. By May 1919, the Bunker Hill restored fifty cents of the bonus. But even this fifty-cent increase per shift could not halt the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers. Reiterating his notion that the IUMMSW was simply the Western Federation of Miners with a new name, Easton had to report that Mine-Mill claims that the smelter was 100 percent organized were probably close to the truth. The Wardner Industrial Union officers were “greatly concerned” about the situation. The WIU had lost all of its smelter members.38

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The IUMMSW campaign continued, and the union demanded collarto-collar pay (the work day, including the time it took to enter and exit the mine), union recognition, a further fifty-cent increase in pay, and time-and-a-half for overtime work.39 By June, Easton had discharged six officers of the “Kellogg-Moyer” union for “vicious agitation,” but MineMill continued to make gains.40 On June 4, IUMMSW sent a letter to all of the Coeur d’Alene mine managers claiming to be the duly accredited representative of district workers and demanding the eight-hour day, a fifty-cent-a-day pay increase, and union recognition. The union requested and was granted a federal mediator from the Department of Labor.41 Easton agreed to meet informally with the mediator, but he made it clear that this discussion set no precedent and that for the last twenty years Bunker Hill had “recognized and dealt with the Wardner Industrial Union.” He pointed out that workers in the district actually only put in an eight-hour day, when time for travel and meals was subtracted. He admitted that the Coeur d’Alene district pay scale was twenty-five cents a shift less than Butte’s, but argued that Coeur d’Alene district working conditions were better. He was adamant when it came to the closed shop, which Easton believed, like most capitalists, jeopardized managerial hegemony. Bradley gave Easton his complete approval and validated Easton’s actions. In view of the comparative histories and records of “Moyer” and the Wardner Industrial Union,—also in view of your YMCA efforts and the general clean condition surrounding Kellogg family life, I feel that we are justified in publicly standing as a stone wall with the Wardner Industrial Union as against the “Moyer” union. At any rate, it is a platform we are committed to by twenty years of effort and no decent public sentiment will oppose us in staying with it; and it is really public sentiment that will kill or make the “Moyer” union in Kellogg. Bradley further urged Easton to stay open, despite Mine-Mill pressures, so long as Wardner Industrial Union members and “any other free citizens of Idaho care to continue to work for us.”42 This represents virtually the same position that Bradley advocated during the 1890s. Mine-Mill delayed any strike action until after the arrival of General Robert M. McWade, the U.S. conciliation commissioner. Easton described McWade as a journalist, politician, and “native born Irish man

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of education and culture,” who had been with the consular service in China. He impressed Easton favorably, even though Easton recognized that McWade’s situation was such that “his efforts are for the unionists.” Easton took McWade on a tour of Kellogg and provided him with information regarding the Wardner Industrial Union. McWade requested that Easton grant clemency to the men who had been discharged for “vicious agitation,” suggesting probation in lieu of permanent discharge. Easton replied that his company had no blacklist and did agree to provide McWade with a written report on each of the discharged men.43 The relationship between Bunker Hill workers and managers had many layers. A huge fire in the Bunker Hill sawmill and timber yard on June 19 led to rumors regarding the conflagration’s origin. One story was that a group of men, “flying a red flag” and driving their automobile at a high rate of speed, passed by the site shortly before the fire broke out. The sheriff arrested the alleged drivers, but had no evidence to hold them, while Easton maintained that a spark from a passing locomotive was responsible for the fire. At any rate, the community responded to fight the blaze, which could be seen for miles, and local women provided food for the firefighters as the town rallied to save its major employer.44 Easton sent checks to all of the firefighters, and the Wallace Press Times noted that “it is such acts as this that bring the management of large companies and the people of the communities in which they are located into close and sympathetic relations”—precisely the effect Easton had hoped to achieve.45 Although some local mines made concessions to workers, strike sentiment continued to be strong. On August 2, Burke union members voted 355 to 5 for a strike. The Kellogg union met the same day, and counting raised hands yielded a positive strike vote. Easton did not believe either of the votes was truly indicative of majority feeling, and he continued to claim that the Wardner Industrial Union was holding its own. Easton applauded the formation of the Idaho Citizens League, organized to “combat lawlessness and disorder.” The league advocated vigilante tactics that were similar to those of the American Protective Association in the 1890s. Four of the Kellogg officers worked at Bunker Hill smelter and complained about “radicalism they were surrounded by” to Easton, who promised them his “full cooperation and support.”46 Commissioner McWade, in his continuing quest for a compromise, solicited data on the eight-hour day, an important issue for both miners and managers. The state of Idaho had passed an eight-hour day law in

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1907, but for the mining industry the big question was when to start the day—when the men entered the mine, or when they arrived at their work location, which sometimes could take an hour of travel time. In the wake of wartime pressures, the companies had compromised in January 1918, and allowed men to go out of the mine on company time, while still entering on their own time. (This compromise was of course designed to maximize work, as company officials thought that having workers enter on their own time would hurry them to the work site, while when leaving on company time the men would be anxious to get home.) Easton claimed that the actual time spent at the “face” was less then eight hours, and he even argued that making the proposed change would discriminate against surface workers and other employees who actually worked an eight-hour day. He believed that if the union demand was met, the company would have to curtail output and increase its costs. He also pointed out that the company had spent forty thousand dollars for improved mine ventilation and that the mines in the Coeur d’Alenes were not hot, wet, or hazardous and that the wage scale was comparatively high.47 However, collar-to-collar pay was an important union goal, and miners would recognize its achievement as a definite union victory. Commissioner McWade brokered a gentlemen’s agreement between the union leadership and Bunker Hill management that included: the open shop, but a promise of no antiunion discrimination; the eight-hour day, “through facilitation as early as practical of entrance to and exit from the mines”; a wage rate tied to the prices of lead and zinc; and a grievance procedure with management as the final arbiter. McWade included the language that the agreement was made “directly with the U.S. government, through its conciliation commissioner, General McWade, and not with any union or non-union organization” in order to gain Bunker Hill acceptance.48 Though Easton and Bradley got practically everything they wanted, only government intervention and interference had guaranteed the victory, and this set an important precedent for Bunker Hill labor relations. Not surprisingly, the agreement did not satisfy labor, and following a very stormy meeting in Wallace on August 13, all of the mines except the Bunker Hill went out on strike. On August 14, strike notices appeared at the Hercules, Hecla, Tamarack and Custer, Morning, Interstate-Callahan, and Hunter mines.49 While all of the other mines in the district shut down due to the labor walkout, Bunker Hill continued to operate as usual. The IWW appealed to Bunker Hill workers, “Miners of Kellogg, Are you men of Kellogg

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going to help the masters defeat the miners of this district? An injury to one is the concern of all,” but Bunker Hill workers remained on the job. Animosity between striking miners and Bunker Hill employees ran high. A September fire at the Hercules prompted Bunker Hill to send its firefighters to assist. When their train passed through Burke, pickets from the Burke union stopped it and informed the Bunker Hill men that there were “enough scabs working up there” and to go home.50 Even this considerable pressure was to no avail, and Bunker Hill’s continued operation was a triumph for Easton. The Wallace Miner claimed that Easton had avoided a strike as a result of his long history of “personal interest in the welfare” of Bunker Hill workers, and the state mine inspector touted the Bunker Hill and Sullivan’s “well established policy of give and take with its men, a community interest with a heart in it that had been displayed for years.”51 Bunker Hill welfare capitalism drew the notice of mining maven T. A. Rickard, who reported that the twenty years of “consideration” Easton had shown Bunker Hill men had paid off.52 Not only did he attract the attention of these influential observers, but Easton also earned uncharacteristically high praise from Bradley. Bradley noted that he had given Easton a free hand, and Easton had shown himself worthy, thus freeing Bradley to pay attention to other mining properties. This marks the final completion of Easton’s apprenticeship and the beginning of a more equal partnership between the two men.53 Although they struggled to contain it in the face of concerted company efforts, workers seethed with animosity toward the company and its labor policy. On the other hand, even though the IUMMSW miners had not succeeded, they indirectly helped workers’ situation. As metals prices continued to rise in the early 1920s, the Wardner Industrial Union requested another raise. Easton decided to grant it, primarily because he did not want to fuel an International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers revival.54 Once the labor crisis had passed, the 1920s was a period of expansion and further integration for Bunker Hill. The purchase of the Star mine at Burke and the construction of the Bunker Hill zinc plant were at the center of this growth. The Star mine owners were engaged in a lawsuit against the Federal Mining and Smelting Company (owned by the Guggenheims) over a trespass issue. The Star people found that they were no match for the Federal Company’s resources, especially since many of the owners were old and not interested in spending money on

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the litigation. While Bradley’s decision to lend Star mine owners money to continue their trespass suit against the Federal Company seemed risky, it turned out to be one of the most significant decisions he made.55 Although it took considerable time, money, and worry before it became clear that this was the case, the Star made an indelible mark on the history of the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company and played no small part in its continued success. Construction of the lead smelter was certainly a gamble, but it was an entirely different situation than the Star property represented. The nature of the Coeur d’Alene district ore bodies, as the extra-lateral cases of the early twentieth century indicated, remained somewhat of a mystery, even to skilled mining engineers. Opinions as to the Star’s depth, the nature of the ore body, and the ability to utilize the ore varied. In addition, it was evident that the Star ore contained a large percentage of zinc, and in 1917, no one knew how to smelt the Star ore in a way that would practically deal with the zinc. So, Bradley and Easton again had their work cut out for them. The first complication was, in typical Coeur d’Alene district fashion, a lawsuit. The Star claimed that the Federal Company had trespassed on Star ground between 1907 and 1917. Upon making a careful inspection of the Star ground, Easton determined that the Federal Company had indeed trespassed, and Easton was certain that the Federal Company could not establish ownership of any of the Star.56 In fact, Easton believed that the initial Star trespass was tied to the ASARCO–Bunker Hill smelter controversy; as an ASARCO subsidiary, the Federal Company planned to obtain Star ore and send it to an ASARCO smelter. The district court ruled in favor of the Federal Company on April 19, 1918.57 However, the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals overturned the lower court decision in May 1920. Easton wired Bradley that the Star had secured everything it asked for, and he could not help but add, “But in addition to the substantial amounts represented by this victory, it is gratifying to have my judgement as to the Star’s rights, which I formed some four years ago, now, confirmed by the Court of Appeals.”58 Bradley realized that Star development would entail great expense. He initially hoped to negotiate a deal to access the Star ore through the Morning mine, but the Federal Company’s continued animosity precluded that. So, Bradley came up with the idea of cooperating with the Hecla Company. His plan was to dig a huge tunnel from the Hecla workings into the Star and for the Bunker Hill and Hecla to go into partnership. This would be a dramatic step for both companies, and soon involved

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the Bunker Hill in one of the soap-opera-like dramas that tend to characterize Coeur d’Alene mining district history. During the first week of April, Bradley met secretly with Hecla officials, including manager James McCarthy, in San Francisco. Bradley told the others that he thought the cheapest way to mine the Star ore was to build a 7,500- to 8,000-foot-long tunnel from the lower workings of the Hecla mine. Bunker Hill had invested $871,529 in the Star and planned to create a new company, the Sullivan Mining Company, as an umbrella for Bunker Hill/Hecla operations involving the Star.59 Bradley’s proposition created a real dilemma for the Hecla managers. The Hecla had turned down an opportunity to purchase the Star mine nine years earlier, deeming it too speculative. There continued to be a real question among mining men as to whether the Star had moneymaking potential. Since mining was experiencing one of its cyclical depressions, and some experts believed that the entire Coeur d’Alene district’s future was in doubt, many Hecla officers opposed the partnership.60 Eugene Day and Sarah Smith, both Hecla stockholders, obtained a court order from Spokane County Superior Court restraining Hecla from finalizing the Star purchase; the two then sued for a permanent injunction in both Washington and Idaho courts. Despite this rearguard action, the Hecla board of directors voted to purchase half of the Star, with only Smith in opposition; they then proceeded to discuss the erection of a zinc plant to process the Star ores. Eventually, the deal was finalized and James McCarthy, L. B. Hanley, F. M. Bradley, and Stanly Easton signed the agreement that gave Hecla fifty-percent interest in the Sullivan Mining Company; all of the ore was to come through the tunnel from Hecla, and Hecla would hoist all of it. Still disgruntled, Sarah Smith and Eugene Day launched a letterwriting campaign to other Hecla Mining Company stockholders, urging them to oppose the arrangement on the grounds that it would benefit only Bunker Hill, while representing an unwise investment for Hecla.61 They pointed out that Hecla was not equipped to deal with zinc ore and that if the Star was so valuable, why, when Bunker Hill was “scouring” the Northwest for properties, would it want to give Hecla half? They continued by pointing out that the long tunnel would cost a fortune, and it would be wet and thus require pumping. They concluded, “It is our contention that the venture of the Hecla into a low grade, base, zinc mining, milling and pumping adventure is entirely unwarranted.”62 In October, the twosome warned Hecla stockholders that the Supreme Court had not

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handed down a final decision in the Star–Federal Case, so that Hecla might be investing in a mine they would not even own. Bradley believed that the whole mess was the result of yet further machinations by the Federal Company’s interests and the Day interests to divert Hecla and other Coeur d’Alene ores from the Bunker Hill smelter. Only when the Federal case was finally settled, in March 1922, did the objections cease.63 Nevertheless, the Star problems did not end; once the partnership was complete, the challenge of actually mining the Star began. The tunnel was more difficult to build and more costly than first estimated; it was, in fact, incredibly wet and hot, and had severe ventilation problems. The ore body was not where mining engineers thought it should be, and for a while it looked as if the Sullivan Mining Company might never find a sufficient quantity of ore. Finally, on November 15, Easton wired Bradley that they had found the Star vein, the “showing is very important and probably the principal ore shoot of the Mullan District.” Bradley replied that for all of them it would certainly be a Thanksgiving to remember. He noted that McCarthy’s and Easton’s judgment had been “fully vindicated in every way to the mutual advantage of all our respective shareholders; and it should be very difficult now for the A. S. & R. Co. to ever take the Hecla ore away from the Bunker Hill smelter.” Once earned, Bradley’s enmity was obviously never ending (as the WFM had learned).64 The Star mine saved Hecla, too, and played no small role in the continuing success of the company. Hecla suffered a devastating fire in 1923 but, except for a recovery period, worked on the Star venture with tunnel construction and ore exploration from August 1921 until commercial grade ore was located, in late 1924. The first actual ore was produced in 1925, and since no processing plant for zinc ore existed in the Coeur d’Alene district, the ore had to be shipped to the Anaconda smelter at Great Falls, and to a Belgian company, Vieille-Montage.65 The need for a zinc plant in the district was apparent, but it required Easton and Bradley to call upon all their metallurgical, engineering, and business skills. Its eventual completion was yet another testimony to their partnership. The two men knew that all of the mines in the nearby Pine Creek district were zinc-lead-silver mines, and could not operate profitably if the zinc was just waste—the Star and other Pine Creek ores contained quantities of zinc that required some sort of special smelting process. It was an expensive undertaking, and Bradley had to convince the Hecla people to go fifty-fifty on the zinc plant, in order to protect their large

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Star investment.66 Even the considerable Star ores would not be enough for profitable zinc plant operation, so the Bunker Hill Company had to acquire additional Pine Creek properties. Obtaining sufficient electrical power was a challenge, and after complex discussions, negotiations, and exploration of other options, Bunker Hill strengthened its commitment with Washington Water Power Company. Finally, zinc production was a competitive field, and it was not at all clear that a zinc plant in Kellogg could vie with established plants. Bunker Hill engineers came up with a whole new product, Bunker Hill 99.99 percent zinc, and created a market for it. This entire saga illustrates Bunker Hill’s growing strength as a mining and smelting concern. The Star ore presented challenges to Bunker Hill metallurgical engineers, and they worked to perfect a concentrating process specifically designed for it. As early as 1917, Bunker Hill employees engaged in experimentation to create a zinc processing system that was suitable for the Star ores. Wallace Woolf was in charge of this effort; it soon became apparent that the work was incredibly difficult, and progress eluded Woolf. Bradley heard about a method that had conquered some of the difficulties that smelters in Anaconda and Trail, British Columbia, had encountered in trying to attain a similar goal, and he urged Bunker Hill employees to investigate this Tainton process. The Tainton process leached “dissolved” zinc ore with sulphuric acid, then removed the zinc from the resulting zinc sulphate solution by electrolysis. In early 1921, Bradley in fact convinced U. C. Tainton himself to go to Kellogg to experiment with the Star ore and his new electrolytic process. Tainton and Woolf’s collaboration proved to be a profitable one. They found that they could solve the problem of gelatinous silicate that resulted from the Tainton process if they coated electrodes with zinc. Bradley urged Easton to make some sort of deal with Tainton, as he viewed the Tainton process as “a short cut for us,” one we should “secure the right to use.”67 Having determined to use the Tainton process, Easton and Bradley turned their attention to negotiating the all-important power contract. Since Washington Water Power Company supplied electricity to the smelter, a power contract with them was logical. However, WWP claimed that before it could justify a new line for the zinc plant, Bunker Hill would have to promise a minimum monthly income for at least a twentyfive-year period—a demand that Bradley deemed “manifestly unfair.”68 Since Sarah Smith and Eugene Day had used the lack of a power contract as an argument against the Hecla–Bunker Hill arrangement, these

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negotiations took on added significance. After considerable bargaining, in 1926, WWP constructed a new, large-capacity, 110,000-volt line to replace the 1903 first high tension line into the Coeur d’Alenes, thus assuring an adequate supply of electricity for the zinc plant.69 Once Easton secured a power contract, he set about obtaining the necessary additional ore that profitable zinc plant operation required. Bradley urged Easton to obtain leases on the Sidney Highland Surprise, which was contiguous to Bunker Hill and could be worked in depth by an extension of the Kellogg Tunnel, as well as the Nevada Stewart. Bunker Hill acquired the Big Creek, which became part of the Crescent, one of the company’s most profitable claims.70 Tainton and the Bunker Hill Company built a demonstration plant to test the Tainton process on Star ores. Before the experiments began in earnest, Bradley sought an exclusive license for use of the Tainton process in the Coeur d’Alene district. Bradley knew that the Day family and the Hecla people would seek Tainton licenses, and he wanted to make sure that they could not obtain them and then compete with Bunker Hill. In May 1922, the Bunker Hill Company gained exclusive rights to the Tainton process in Shoshone County in exchange for a 10 percent royalty.71 Thus, by the end of 1924, the Bunker Hill Company had acquired the Star mine, located the ore body, and had a license for construction of a zinc plant utilizing the Tainton process. Speculation regarding the possible construction swirled throughout the mining and metals community, just as it had when the lead smelter was under consideration. Even the London Mining Journal discussed the topic and concluded that Bunker Hill would not take the risk, as stockholders were fearful it might prove disastrous for the company. Anaconda complained bitterly that Bunker Hill was slighting them and ignoring their pioneering work. None of this stopped the company.72 Bradley decided to build the plant and he offered the Hecla Company 50 percent interest; in fact, the Sullivan Mining Company would construct the zinc plant. When Hecla agreed, Bunker Hill quickly switched all of its zinc research and development work to the Sullivan Mining Company, and also billed the Sullivan Mining Company for past expenditures on zinc experimental work and research. Engineering and Mining Journal praised the decision as yet another landmark development in the history of the Coeur d’Alene mining district.73 The zinc plant produced its inaugural spelter in October 1928, becoming the first plant to employ the Tainton process.74 The Bunker Hill Company

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began to market a new product, 99.99 percent Bunker Hill brand zinc, and contracted with St. Joseph Lead Company (with its New York offices) to market the zinc. It did brilliantly, and soon New Jersey Zinc, Anaconda, and Hudson’s Bay Zinc of Canada had to change their own processes in order to compete with 99.99 percent Bunker Hill brand zinc.75 The Bunker Hill Company faced other challenges during the 1920s. Pollution problems continued to present themselves, and the debris difficulties of the earlier period did not end. In the summer of 1918, Easton notified Bradley that there were several “serious damage cases” in the lower valley because of milling debris and record-breaking flood waters the preceding winter. The Rose Lake Lumber Company claimed that sediment on its lumber resulted in a fifty-eight thousand dollar loss. When Rose Lake did an assay on the sediment, it showed that much of it came from the Coeur d’Alene district mines. The Debris Association was still intact, and the companies all continued to make regular monthly contributions to defend themselves, as well as to pay meritorious claims.76 However, in December 1919, James G. Dowell, C. D. Fisher, and A. W. Johnson brought separate actions in the District Court of Kootenai County, claiming damages to their property from the Bunker Hill Company and other mining companies. Jacob Polak, a rancher at Cataldo, sought $36,575.00 in federal court. Easton believed that Polak was “another irreconcilable, his lands do not even border on the River, and our efforts, extending over a period of several years, for a reasonable adjustment have been useless.” Bradley used another common mining argument when he pointed out that the timber industry contributed to the debris problem, since when it cut trees, erosion increased and the rivers silted up.77 Neither Easton nor Bradley viewed the debris cases as serious challenges to the Bunker Hill Company. Lead smelter operation added a new dimension to these environmental concerns. Even during the planning stages of smelter construction, Bunker Hill officials recognized that the smelter would produce unpleasant smoke and potentially unhealthy lead emissions. Bunker Hill people were well aware of smelter smoke studies conducted in Europe and of a number of so-called smoke cases in this country as well.78 In fact, Bradley and Easton chose Kellogg as the location for the smelter partly because its small population meant that smelter smoke would affect fewer people than would be the case in the alternative locations, Portland, Oregon, or the Puget Sound area of Washington. When company

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officials discussed construction plans in 1915, they considered the “nuisance” of the smoke and fumes and determined to install the Cottrell system of using electricity to remove particles for controlling both.79 The company also sought and received assurances from the U.S. government that the company would not be sued for damages to U.S. forest land near the smelter in return for a Bunker Hill guarantee to pay for any damage that did occur.80 Bunker Hill managers knew that the smelter posed a potential health hazard to workers, since a considerable literature on this topic existed, in no small part due to the work of Dr. Alice Hamilton.81 Dr. Royd R. Sayers, a surgeon with the Public Health Service working under the auspices of the Bureau of Mines, spent several days visiting the smelter during 1918, investigating worker complaints of occupational disease. Sayers wrote to manager Easton, “Whoever works in or about a lead smelter may become leaded,” a succinct expression of the situation that later bureaucrats had difficulty emulating. Sayers made several suggestions to Easton, including procedural changes designed to reduce men’s exposure to dust, use of water to control dust, better hygiene for workers, and regular physicians’ examinations for employees. He concluded that the control of dust and fumes was more important than employee hygiene, but the company emphasized the latter.82 Easton wrote to company official Jules Labarthe that it was essential for management to warn employees of the “ever present risk” via oral warnings, written warnings, and any other means available.83 The company instigated a compensation plan for victims of lead poisoning and also made an effort to transfer afflicted men to jobs away from the smelter. Despite all of these precautions, lead poisoning continued to be a problem at the smelter and, following the usual practice in the mining industry, company officials placed the onus of avoiding lead poisoning on the workers.84 The Bunker Hill Company did embark upon what became a long-term effort to find cures for lead poisoning. It tried the Clauge electrolytic system in 1919, and urged all of its workers to take the treatment regularly. The system proved not to be the panacea the company originally hoped it would be.85 In 1924, the Idaho Industrial Accident Board ruled that lead poisoning was an occupational disease and not eligible for compensation under Idaho law. Despite the ruling, Bunker Hill compensated “worthy employees” just as it did for mining accidents. Bradley and Easton preferred this informal method, as they feared that it would be even easier to claim sickness than it was to claim injury. On the other

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hand, Easton believed that if a worker was advised of the danger of lead exposure, and still chose to work, he assumed the risk. To this end, when the company did pay settlements, it made sure to do so as a voluntary act and to never give payments the aspect of a legal obligation. Company policy called for conspicuous lead poisoning notices in the smelter, and repeated adequate warnings accompanied by preventive and self-help rules and regulations.86 In 1929, the Bunker Hill Company’s highly touted solarium began operation. The state mine inspector exalted, “The value of the welfare work to company employees was demonstrated during the year by the outstanding contribution of the Bunker Hill & Sullivan Company in the installation of its solarium.”87 Bunker Hill officials believed that the artificial sunlight in the solarium worked to counteract the ill effects of lead. The solarium was also open to employees’ families, as a way to improve health during the winter months. During 1930, the solarium boasted 3,845 treatments.88 Just as they were well aware of the health risks associated with lead smelters, Easton and Bradley had followed with considerable interest the several so-called smoke cases of the early twentieth century. They were prepared when area resident Matt Kaiser started to complain about the smoke almost as soon as the smelter began operation. Easton refused to pay damages, and by 1925, Kaiser threatened to sue. Bradley and Easton decided to fight Kaiser in court. Since the dispute was of such long duration, Easton had spent considerable effort to ascertain its danger. He had examined Kaiser’s land on several occasions and noted to Bradley that Kaiser’s claims for damages amounted to more than the worth of the whole neighborhood east of town.89 The company did double the baghouse—a building equipped with cloth bags designed to capture dust—capacity and planned to enlarge and improve the Cottrell in 1923.90 In the probusiness climate of the 1920s, individuals seeking compensation for alleged smoke damage had little chance of prevailing over the powerful Bunker Hill Company. At the same time, Easton and Bradley recognized that complaints against them would no doubt continue. In May 1923, Easton sent Bradley a newspaper clipping describing a smelter smoke court case in Washington State with the attached handwritten message: “FWB, This will stimulate the cupidity of local claimants for pretended smelter damage. SAE.”91 Bunker Hill company policy of improving relationships with employees continued, as part of an overall strategy designed to maintain a loyal

Miners undergoing Clauge electrolytic process to treat lead poisoning, c. 1921. Miners immersed their hands and feet in saline solution and then a weak electrical current was sent through their bodies. (79.92.69, courtesy Idaho State Historical Society.)

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workforce not interested in union organization. The welfare capitalism of the 1920s was well established at Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company, in the words of the state mine inspector: “An excellent spirit of cooperation has been created and maintained in the employees and everything possible is done to promote their welfare.”92 In 1924, when the company moved its corporate home from Oregon to Delaware in order to benefit from a more advantageous corporate climate, 300,000 shares of preferred stock were designated for employees.93 Several similar initiatives allowed Bunker Hill to improve life in Kellogg, with an eye toward keeping employees satisfied. The companyowned electric works, the Light House, sold washing machines on contract. The company was able to provide a sought-after service (they sold thirty-four washing machines during August 1924 alone) while earning interest from the contracts and increasing electric use and thus Light House profits.94 The company extended death benefits to employee dependents if the worker had been employed at Bunker Hill for more than one year, in an effort to encourage workers’ loyalty. Bunker Hill joined with other district mines to purchase a mine safety car from the U.S. Bureau of Mines as part of the ongoing safety program. The September 25, 1924, celebration of the thirty-ninth anniversary of the Bunker Hill mine discovery was a high point for company management and workers, as well as the entire Kellogg community. Italian Prince Gelasio Caetani and Jacob Goetz were among the guests of honor, and several speakers and observers commented on Kellogg’s attractiveness and the excellent living conditions workers enjoyed.95 Bradley and Easton also continued to foster the economic health of their company. In order to expand the smelter operation, Bunker Hill opened an ore-purchasing office in Spokane, under the supervision of Frank Smith, whom they enticed to leave the ASARCO East Helena smelter. By 1923, it was necessary to expand the smelter and add a new plant for crushing and sampling. They also added baghouses and a large new Cottrell. Engineering and Mining Journal wrote that “in many respects the smoke-treating installation at the Bunker Hill plant is the most modern and complete in existence.” It included twenty-eight hundred bags in the baghouses, sixteen hundred of them new, and a fourteen-unit Cottrell with sixty-four pipes per unit. Bunker Hill made modifications in the milling and flotation operations as well. Together these efforts to establish both a flourishing community and a thriving company were very successful, as Bunker Hill performance on the New York Curb Exchange

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demonstrated. The stock sold for $67.50 in January of 1927 and was up to $156.00 by September of the same year. Bradley’s and Easton’s stature in the mining engineering profession grew proportionately. Easton was named a director and vice president of the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company in 1926, by which time the company was the largest employer in Idaho. He built a large house on the shore of Lake Coeur d’Alene, was considered as a possible candidate for the U.S. Senate in 1928, and received an appointment to the Idaho state board of education. Bradley was named president of the American Institute of Mining Engineers (AIME) in 1929, and AIME awarded him its Saunders Gold Medal in 1932—both occasions recognizing that Bradley had reached the pinnacle of the mine engineering profession.96 As Easton assumed almost total responsibility for the Kellogg operations, Bradley spent more and more time in Alaska and at other mining properties. In fact, he did not visit Kellogg at all during 1930, 1931, or 1932. Stanly A. Easton last met Frederick W. Bradley January 13, 1933, in the train station in Portland. Easton later recalled that they had engaged in a lively discussion regarding a matter on which Bradley possessed “definite ideas.” At the conclusion of their talk, Bradley bid Easton a cordial farewell and Easton last saw him “walking briskly through the Portland railway terminal.”97 Unbeknownst to Easton, Bradley had not been well for some time. He was unable to go to his office after April and died peacefully at his summer home on July 6, 1933, concluding a career that spanned fifty years and saw the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company evolve from a struggling concern to an industry giant.98 Longtime associate and Bunker Hill banker William H. Crocker said, “He was a real friend, a real man and a splendid citizen, in addition to being one of the greatest mining experts this country has ever known.”99 In the eleven years that separated the construction of the Bunker Hill lead smelter in 1917 and the completion of the Sullivan Mining Company zinc plant in 1928, Frederick W. Bradley and his associate, Stanly A. Easton, horizontally integrated their enterprise and systematized company management practices. Bunker Hill weathered World War I and its accompanying labor unrest and uncertainty, while working to improve living conditions in Kellogg. The zinc plant contributed to the economic health of Bunker Hill, its partner, Hecla, and the entire Coeur d’Alene mining district. Bunker Hill benefited from the strong economy that characterized the 1920s, Bradley and Easton established a solid foundation for their company, and Kellogg became a prosperous town and a model

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mining community. The Great Depression and World War II would test both the company’s economic strength and Stanly Easton’s management skills. At the same time, these twin crises would allow Bunker Hill employees the opportunity to make headway in their continuing campaign to wrest some control over their working lives from the patriarchal company management team.

CHAPTER 4

Depression and War, 1928–1949

The Bunker Hill Company emerged from the 1920s well positioned to occupy a central place among American mining concerns. It could boast an integrated industrial process that featured both lead and zinc processing plants. Company management was innovative and employed a labor relations policy that maintained company control, despite continuing pressure from workers. Stanly Easton enjoyed a reputation as a skilled mining engineer and competent manager. Bunker Hill fully expected to experience greater profits and more growth in the 1930s. While the Great Depression caused a detour for the company, in the long run Bunker Hill continued its record of expansion and growth. At the same time, the Depression and World War II crises led to increased solidarity among Bunker Hill workers and facilitated labor organization and militancy: Bunker Hill workers finally achieved their goal of union recognition. The worldwide Depression that began in 1929 certainly affected Kellogg’s Bunker Hill Company and the Coeur d’Alene mining district— the district boasted $32 million in metals production in 1929, but only $7 million in total production by 1932. However, though the Depression brought an economic downturn with no reprieve for many industries, the Bunker Hill situation was not so clear-cut. The company did experience a greatly diminished profit margin and stock prices fell. Bunker Hill stock appeared on the New York Curb Exchange in late 1926, and sold for sixty-seven dollars and fifty cents in January 1927. Amidst the general bull market, the stock reached a high of one hundred sixty-five dollars in March 1929; it fell to forty-eight dollars per share by January

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1930 and traded at only fourteen dollars per share in December 1932, or less than 10 percent of its highest value.1 In response to falling metal prices and depressed demand, the Sullivan Mining Company curtailed production at the Star Mine and at the zinc plant—in April 1930 the plant operated at 50-percent capacity and within a few months cut to 25-percent capacity. That the zinc plant operated even at this reduced level was of vital importance to the economic situation in the rest of the district, since it allowed small mines, particularly in the Pine Creek area, to continue a modest level of production.2 The Star Mine was closed during most of 1930, but the Bunker Hill mine continued to produce and in fact increased production to the point that in 1931 mine output was the largest it had been in several years. However, metal prices were lower than any time since 1902–03, a situation that even more efficient mining and smelting practices could not counteract; consequently, profits were lower than any year since 1902–03 as well. Only Bunker Hill and the Sunshine mined at capacity during 1931.3 The state mine inspector described 1932 as “the leanest that this county has witnessed in 40 years,” and district payrolls indeed dropped to their lowest point since the 1893 panic. Bunker Hill operated on a four-day-a-week schedule.4 Even with these conditions, the Frederick Bradley–Stanly Easton policy was to hold production at its pre-Depression levels; continue employment for Bunker Hill workers; and maintain wages even if it meant operating at a loss. Since 1925, district wages had been tied to the New York price of metals. That price dropped so low that miners’ pay should have been back to three dollars and seventy-five cents a day. Bunker Hill paid four dollars and seventy-five cents during most of 1932, but operated on a four-day workweek. At the end of 1932 the company returned to the five-day week but reduced the daily rate of pay to four dollars and twenty-five cents. The situation in 1933 was more of the same. A small increase in the price was offset by the large stocks of unsold lead on hand by the end of the year; there was little improvement during 1934.5 Despite this dismal record of profit performance, the company’s financial health was not threatened. The court settlement mandated smelting contract with ASARCO expired February 1, 1930, leaving Bunker Hill free to process all of its own ore. This necessitated a large-scale smelter expansion that almost doubled the smelter’s capacity—from seventy thousand tons to one hundred and twenty thousand—an expansion the

Cash payday, Bunker Hill, March 1933. Miners lined up in front of the company offices. (MG5-18, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

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state mine inspector labeled “the most important new construction in Shoshone County” during 1930. A further enlargement of the blast furnaces in 1936 allowed Bunker Hill to claim that it had the largest blast furnace in the United States.6 Also during 1930 the Sullivan Mining Company began production at a cadmium recovery plant, which was added to the zinc plant in late 1929. Cadmium is difficult to locate, and when it is found, it usually occurs along with zinc. It was a byproduct of the electrolytic zinc plant, represented only a few tenths of 1 percent of most zinc ore, and had to be removed in the zinc plant as it is an impurity in zinc. Cadmium has a resistance to oxidation and an unusually low melting point; it acts as a hardening and toughing agent when added to copper or silver. It was used in copper telephone and trolley wires, as well as in safety fuses for electric circuits. More important, in the 1930s automobile manufacturers began to use cadmium to rustproof nuts, bolts, and other small parts. Cadmium was applied as a base coat in chromium plating for bright parts and also in electric storage batteries. The Bunker Hill plant produced cadmium of great purity, analogous to the 99.99 percent zinc at the zinc plant, and the superior quality of Bunker Hill cadmium made it a sought-after commodity. The cadmium plant operated at capacity throughout the Depression, and cadmium sold well, although low prices resulted in small profits. The state mine inspector noted in his 1932 Annual Report that the Bunker Hill zinc and cadmium plants “constitute one of the most important enterprises in the Pacific Northwest, one which greatly insures permanence of the mining industry of Shoshone County.”7 The Bunker Hill Company’s ability to expand its product base was central to company success, despite the economic vagaries associated with the Depression. In terms of development work, Bunker Hill made significant disclosures of new ore in the Star Mine, and during 1937 one of the three most important discoveries in the history of Bunker Hill. All of this combined to make the overall outlook for the company relatively positive. The Bunker Hill and Sullivan 1934 Annual Report boasted, “The attached statements indicate a substantial improvement in the financial condition of the Company; as of this date all indebtedness is more than offset by cash on hand and receivables.” By the next year the company liquidated all interest-bearing obligations.8 This is not to say that the Depression had no real effects on the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company. The 1930s was a defining decade for organized

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labor in both the nation and the Coeur d’Alene mining district; the unionmanagement struggle that began in the 1890s reached its climax. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal was clearly the catalyst that allowed labor unions to win the recognition that they had sought for nearly forty years. That this dramatic achievement came at a time of economic duress only serves to make the story more compelling. At first glance, the lowest economic point in decades does not appear to be conducive to successful labor organization, but Franklin D. Roosevelt’s election and subsequent policies altered not just the rules, but also the entire playing field of labor-management relations. The staunchly Republican Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company recognized Roosevelt’s potential to instigate change. During the 1932 election campaign, company officials warned workers that if Roosevelt were elected, the company would shut down completely within thirty days. This threat had little apparent effect on the voting of company employees, as Shoshone County’s landslide vote for Roosevelt helped to propel him to a 109,479 to 71,312 victory in Idaho polling.9 In 1928 Herbert Hoover had carried all but one county in Washington, Oregon, and Idaho; in 1932 he carried only two counties in those three states. Democrat C. Ben Ross became Idaho’s governor, with strong support in the Coeur d’Alenes; the Wallace Miner’s headline read, “Rampant and Unreasoning Democracy Rides Ruthlessly over Republican Opposition in Shoshone County.”10 President Roosevelt’s plans to revive industrial production, and thereby get people back to work, had a galvanizing effect on laborers across the United States; Silver Valley workers were no exception. Section 7(a) of the National Industrial Recovery Act (NIRA) provided “that employees shall have the right to organize and bargain collectively through representatives of their own choosing.”11 Although the Roosevelt administration considered 7(a) to be of minor significance, labor leaders throughout the country interpreted it to mean that the president himself wanted workers to join unions. AFL president William Green christened 7(a) the “magna carta of labor,” and United Mine Workers president John L. Lewis compared it to the Emancipation Proclamation.12 The Kellogg Evening News carried the National Recovery Administration’s (NRA) symbolic blue eagle on its masthead—a reminder of Roosevelt’s New Deal policies. Working people mired in the economic morass of the Depression rallied to aid their president. The NIRA resulted in renewed labor union organizational activities in the Coeur d’Alene mining district. Although the International Union

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of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers had only fifteen hundred members in 1933, Roosevelt’s policies revitalized the lagging union, and Mine-Mill quickly restored charters to locals that had surrendered them in despair following World War I. Joining the union allowed Silver Valley workers to take a direct action to fight the Depression.13 Obviously, the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company was determined to pursue its long-established policy of resisting labor union organization. Company officials hoped they could rely on the continued success of the Wardner Industrial Union to counteract any prolabor aspects of the New Deal. It was the company’s intention to simply use the WIU to fulfill any requirements of the NRA codes. The large number of Bunker Hill workers who did express an interest in joining Mine-Mill astonished company officials. Attempting to ascertain what grievances prompted men to seek union membership, the mine superintendent and various shift bosses made the rounds of the workplace to inquire (according to a later investigation, “not always in diplomatic fashion or in the form of requests for information”). The reason given most often for joining Mine-Mill was “a desire to help the President in his National Industrial Recovery program.”14 This attitude led to considerable success for union organizing efforts.15 Mine-Mill made advances throughout the district. In April 1934 the union demanded a one-dollar-and-fifty-cent raise for Sunshine workers. The union argued that while a miner’s pay was ninety-nine dollars per month, the company paid a dividend that averaged $355 per month for each miner. The newly appointed Regional Labor Board agreed with the union, and Sunshine decided to raise pay to five dollars and twenty-five cents per day to avoid losing government contracts. This represented the first unambiguous union victory in Shoshone County since the 1890s. By June 1934 workers at the Morning, Page, Sunshine, and Hecla mines had voted for Mine-Mill representation.16 Bunker Hill was able to maintain its position as the strongest nonunion operation in the Coeur d’Alene mining district only by adopting an even more stridently antiunion stance and launching a full-scale campaign to discourage union membership. As eleven-year Bunker Hill veteran John Strolovich explained, his foreman bluntly informed him, “You take your choice—quit the union or quit the company.”17 Bunker Hill partner, the Hecla Company, fired all union officers. According to members of Burke Local No. 10, officials of the Hecla and Sullivan Mining companies stood across the street from the Miners Union Hall on

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September 15, 1933, warning workers not to enter and noting which workers did so anyway.18 Union men were quick to notice that of the forty-seven men discharged or laid off during the first nine months of 1934, forty-four were union members.19 Union officials appealed to the National Labor Board for help. Local union leader Ora Wilson wrote to Charles Hope, of the Regional Labor Board in Seattle, that the union had spent over two thousand dollars trying to get the discharged men reinstated; members were becoming impatient. He even warned that union men believed “they are entitled to the rights and privileges guaranteed them under the NIRA and if we cannot get them peacefully, we will be forced to proceed in a different and more forceful manner.”20 This thinly veiled threat illustrates both the sense of empowerment workers gained from New Deal legislation and their escalating militancy. When Mine-Mill filed a complaint against the Bunker Hill Company with the National Labor Board, the board appointed a panel of arbitrators to hear the union complaints.21 The panel’s final report selected the cases of five discharged workers as representative of the forty-four union workers who had lost their jobs, including Ora Wilson, who became an international vice president of Mine-Mill in 1936. The company claimed that none of these terminations were related to the men’s union activities, and the arbitration panel agreed.22 This represented a defeat for the union and a tremendous victory for the Bunker Hill Company, while providing an excellent illustration of the inherent weaknesses in Section 7(a) as labor legislation. In the long run, the decision confirmed the Bunker Hill Company’s conviction that it could meet any union challenge. In the meantime, the Bunker Hill Company continued to push for the Wardner Industrial Union as the bargaining agent for Bunker Hill employees. Mine-Mill believed that the WIU had been created to “keep the bona fide labor unions out of Kellogg,” to make sure that employees remained “under subjection to all company bosses,” and to profit the company through its administration of the loan and insurance program.23 But Easton noted: “Employes [sic] can choose anyone they desire to represent them. . . . The law does not prohibit the existence of a local labor organization, which may be called a company union and is composed only of the employes [sic] of the company.”24 To strengthen the company claim that the WIU was a viable labor organization, Easton allowed the WIU to elect an Employee Representation Committee made up of members from each company workplace—the mine, mill, smelter,

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and zinc plant.25 When the National Labor Board held representation elections on June 4 and 5, 1934, the Employee Representation Committee appeared on the ballot and received 549 votes to Mine-Mill’s 475. Despite Mine-Mill claims of company coercion and the inclusion of noneligible voters, the National Labor Board certified the election.26 The Employee Representation Committee began weekly meetings on June 11, 1934. Any worker could submit an oral or written complaint to a committee member, or workers could present their complaints in person at the committee meetings. The committee would then communicate complaints it deemed appropriate to the company, which had complete freedom of action in responding to the complaints. The committee’s first report of its activities indicated how this arrangement actually operated when it recorded: “Increase in pay . . . has been the topic for more requests than any other subject. The management has stated that there will be no increase in pay until the price of lead justifies it.”27 The company also denied requests for paid vacations, an extra hoistman while hoisting was taking place, and other requests of a similar vein. The company did grant requests for a dry house at the Reid Tunnel, additional showers for the Wardner dry, an electric clock for the zinc plant, and more hot water for the mill dry. The company also agreed to discontinue blasting during the noon hour—something workers especially wanted so they could eat their lunches in peace.28 Ultimately, the Bunker Hill Company denied requests that were expensive, or, more important from the company’s perspective, infringed on their managerial prerogatives. The company approved requests that were relatively inexpensive and did not jeopardize company control—but at the same time improved workers’ comfort in a context that workers were sure to notice. The company hoped that these obvious changes would lead workers to conclude that the Employee Representation Committee was in fact looking out for the workers’ interests and providing them with all of the representation they needed. International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers officials continued to attack the company in other venues. The union believed the Bunker Hill Company made efforts to subvert NRA codes designed to guarantee workers shorter hours. The zinc plant, which was of course actually operated by the Sullivan Mining Company, was a particular trouble spot. The union maintained that wages there had actually been reduced for night-shift employees, and, according to Mine-Mill, when the

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union tried to get affidavits from the men regarding their employment, Bunker Hill supervisors threatened them. By July 16, 1934, Ora Wilson forwarded the names of nineteen men who had their pay reduced on April 2, 1934, to R. D. Horning, the NRA compliance officer. These nineteen night-shift employees had been receiving a fifty-cent-a-day differential. Wilson claimed that most of the men in question were Local No. 18 members, and the demotion was due to their union membership and not to other considerations. Several of the men had Hispanic surnames.29 Whereas the constitution and bylaws of the Wardner Industrial Union offered membership to “white men,” Mine-Mill membership was more inclusive, and these men would have certainly been noticeable in the Kellogg population.30 Wilson became incensed when the NRA in Seattle forwarded this complaint to the labor compliance officer in the Boise, Idaho, office of the NRA, who found that no violation had occurred. An angry Wilson fired off a note to the chief compliance officer in Seattle, James S. Bradford, complaining that Hugh Johnson himself had given permission to send the case to Seattle, rather than the “tailor made” board in Boise. If you are really interested in the corporations complying with the law, I will ask you not to send them there. If your Board will take up this case, I will send it to you, if not, I will file it with the National Labor Board. I am not going to lay down on any of these cases and if you won’t cooperate with me, I will go directly to Washington, D.C. with them.31 Wilson’s appeal reflected the considerable influence that the Bunker Hill Company wielded as one of Idaho’s major employers and Mine-Mill’s determination not to be bullied. Bunker Hill continued to respond to union pressures with countervailing pressures of its own. Workers who had testified in the hearings reported repercussions. According to Joe Huffman, mine superintendent William McDougall himself approached him and said, You have got more gall and guts than any man I ever heard tell of, going down there on that trial and testifying that we had been spying on you as long as you have worked here, there is no manhood about you, I never seen a son of a bitch like you.32

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No miner would take an insult to his manhood lightly, and Huffman responded in kind: “You have no manhood about yourself.” Whereupon McDougall told him to get out of the stope, and Huffman warned McDougall he was lucky he was “an old man, or you wouldn’t get away with that.”33 This exchange illustrates that longtime Bunker Hill officials took their employees’ union membership as a personal affront. The discussion did not involve working conditions, wages, or hours, but rather, it centered on what both men considered to be of paramount importance—their masculinity and their ability to stand up to the boss. A year after the first hearing, Bunker Hill was again called to answer charges before the National Labor Board that it had “flagrantly” violated 7(a). This time the board found that the company was noncompliant and ignored the “spirit of the prior arbitration award.” Bunker Hill workers’ testimony moved the board.34 John Strolovich reported that Stanley McDougall not only asked him, “What’s the idea of joining the union?” but reminded Strolovich that the Bunker Hill Company employed his father and brother and had kept them all working, even when there had been a surplus of ore at the height of the Depression. In a similar vein, he told Max Greenough, “We put you to work here to keep you from starving to death when we didn’t need men.”35 When Stanley McDougall questioned Al Fischer about wanting to join the union, Fischer responded, “You come home with me and see the shack I have for my missus and kid to live in; and I would like in every way to get along and not starve.” McDougall allegedly responded, “I don’t understand you fellows. You take your dollar and blow it.” Fischer countered, “We are just muckers here and maybe supposed to be dumb, but still they can have a bright idea once in a while. . . . You know I have a baby and my home comes first and I intend to see that my baby gets the same breaks your old man gave you.”36 Fischer was referring to the fact that McDougall’s father was mine superintendent and that he and his colleagues were determined to stand up for themselves.37 Literally generations of relationships characterized the Bunker Hill labor situation. Upon hearing these stories, the board concluded that Bunker Hill did interfere with the suborganization of its employees in violation of Section 7(a). And, although the board could not find definitive evidence that all of the dismissals were due to antiunion prejudice, they were convinced that there was an “anti-union bias on the part of the company which throws an unfavorable light on the dealings with members of the union.” IUMMSW and its supporters praised this new opinion.38

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Nevertheless, the overall Bunker Hill strategy succeeded, and, by the summer of 1935, the Mine-Mill organizational drive was stalled. Two developments during 1937 again revitalized the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers. Congress passed the National Labor Relations Act—or the Wagner Act—legislation that gave federal courts power to enforce National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) actions and so greatly augmented the federal government’s power in labor-management relations. Union leaders throughout the country heralded the Wagner Act.39 Also in 1937, the CIO (first known as the Committee for Industrial Organization, and later formalized to Congress of Industrial Organizations) came to the Silver Valley. Dissatisfied AFL members had formed the CIO in an effort to facilitate union organizational efforts among unorganized workers, and the CIO was committed to militant, industrywide organizing efforts. The IUMMSW was a CIO charter member. CIO organizer Patrick J. McGuire arrived in the Coeur d’Alene mining district on January 9, 1937, and renewed labor militancy soon followed.40 Though occupied with their own organizing efforts, International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers officers and members shared a concern for unemployed workers and other victims of the Depression with labor union activists throughout the country. As was the case with labor-management relationships, this position sometimes required that Mine-Mill challenge the existing power structure in the Coeur d’Alene mining district. As the biggest employers and the focus of the entire economic system, mining companies believed they deserved to wield influence in their communities. For the first time since the Populists, labor found itself during the 1930s with an avenue to political clout—the Democratic Party—and used that path on a number of occasions. Workers believed that the federal government was in their corner. Mine-Mill supported unemployed and working-class members of the community whenever possible. When Shoshone County commissioners refused to allow the Unemployment Council to use the courtroom as a meeting place, Local No. 18 passed a resolution in opposition. The resolution stated that union men and the unemployed needed to “solidify” their ranks, to prevent management from driving a “wedge” to “split the ranks” of workers.41 The union was particularly forthright in the demands it placed upon the Idaho Emergency Relief Administration (IERA). When local merchants tried to take relief checks to pay bills they claimed were owed to them, the union involved the county prosecutor, who wrote a letter to the Boise head of the IERA warning, “To permit these

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people to pursue this course of conduct would, in my mind, be tantamount to saying that instead of the people getting relief they are merely subject to one form of slavery.”42 Mine-Mill objected strenuously to the appointment of procompany people to New Deal agencies designed to deal with unemployment. In fact, Local No. 18 appealed to Governor C. Ben Ross to intervene in local decisions regarding the IERA. Union officials were convinced that relief was not getting to the people who needed it and that bureaucratic snafus and mining company machinations were causing hardships.43 At the same time, Mine-Mill expected Democratic elected officials to represent the interests of both workers and the unemployed. In January 1935 Local No. 18 brought charges against William Hanson, a member and a Shoshone County commissioner, “for conduct unbecoming a member of organized labor.” Union members felt betrayed, since they had supported Hanson financially during the election campaign, and he appeared indifferent to union positions. According to the union, men and women who supported the Democratic ticket had “jeopardized their jobs and standing in the community.” The union recommended several of these people for appointments, but Hanson had selected individuals who had worked for the Republicans.44 The Mine-Mill political committee members who charged Hanson believed the stakes for the union were high in this case. They demanded that Hanson be fined five hundred dollars and expelled from the union, and they warned the Local Grievance Committee that “in view of the fact that labor has at last entered into politics, this being their first attempt to change the system responsible for so much suffering and unemployment, your decision and punishment will have a big bearing on our future labor representatives.”45 Local union officials were determined to utilize their newfound political power on behalf of workers. This more militant approach to unionism in its broadest sense can also be seen through the Mine-Mill Union’s efforts to confront the issue of the Kellogg area environment. One anonymous source wrote to the government, “In and around Kellogg the smelter city, a cat, or dog, can’t live, a barbwire fence will not last over 2 years and the whole valley from Burke and Mullan to Coeur d’Alene, a distance of 60 miles the whole water source is contaminated beyond help from tailings and slimes dumped in by the profit mongers, there isn’t a fish for 50 of the 60 miles in the main stream and the water in the Lake at Coeur d’Alene is unfit for human consumption although it is a body of water 30 to 100

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miles long.” The union member noted that timber around Kellogg was either dead or partially dead and concluded, “The only thing that grows here is the undertaker’s business and the graveyard.” The worker pleaded for a government investigation.46 State officials responded that if the union could supply data from experts, the state could intervene. Of course, Local No. 18 had no access to this kind of information.47 However, other constituencies also began to express concerns regarding the impact of heavy metals in dust and in the watershed, and state officials were forced to act. While it is typical to associate the environmental movement with much later in the century, Idahoans early on recognized many aspects of environmental problems. In late 1929 a series of articles in the Coeur d’Alene Press sought to alert the area populace to the danger of mine wastes contaminating the Coeur d’Alene River system and Lake Coeur d’Alene. Press editor John Knox Coe published articles with titles that clearly indicated his view of the danger: “Up the River of Muck and Into the ‘Valley of Death’“; “Valley of Desolation Tells Its Own Story”; “Once a Fruitful Paradise, Now the Valley of Death.” Coe described formerly rich farmland now deserted and a “waste of yellow swamp grasses, covered with muck and slime.” A Coeur d’Alene Press reporter attempted to get the Isaac Walton League interested in the problem.48 The Idaho State legislature responded with a full-scale investigation when they appointed the Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission in 1931. The commission was charged with studying and investigating means of “eliminating . . . so far as practical, all industrial wastes” that polluted the Coeur d’Alene River system and recommending ways to prevent damage to vegetation and crops, the public health, and wildlife.49 The commission’s initial meeting was on May 2, 1931, in Wallace. It quickly assigned the state sanitary engineer to examine samples of lake and river waters and also water that the Bunker Hill, Sunshine, Federal, and Hecla mines discharged. As a result of a public hearing in Harrison (where the Coeur d’Alene River enters Lake Coeur d’Alene) on August 29, the U.S. Bureau of Mines, the surgeon general of the United States, the U.S. Public Health Service, the U.S. Bureau of Fisheries, the Bureau of Biological Survey of the U.S. Department of Agriculture, and the Idaho Department of Public Welfare were all asked to make studies and submit reports to the commission. Coeur d’ Alene Lake water was of particular concern, since Harrison (population 493) and Coeur d’Alene (population 8,297) used the lake as a source for drinking water.50

Map of Coeur d’Alene River and Lake system. (Report and Recommendations of the Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission to the Twenty-second Session of the State Legislature of Idaho, 1933.)

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Dr. M. M. Ellis, in charge of interior fisheries investigations for the U.S. Bureau of Fisheries, examined Coeur d’Alene Lake and the Spokane River to the border between Idaho and Washington and made his results available to the commission. He and three assistants conducted their study between July 9 and August 3, 1932; Ellis and his associates also studied dead swans that were shipped from Harrison to the Bureau of Biological Survey, in Washington, D.C.51 The commission concluded that mine tailings and slimes were responsible for most of the pollution problems; improved milling techniques had undoubtedly exacerbated the situation. Ore was crushed, ground, and washed; it then underwent a separation process wherein valuable and nonvaluable parts of the ore could be separated due to differences in their gravity. The addition of the flotation process to ore dressing involved the vigorous agitation of the finely ground ore that remained with water, air, and a small amount of flotation reagents. These reagents formed froth; minerals adhered to this froth and were carried upward as the froth rose. The froth was then removed from the top, while the nonvaluable portion sunk and was taken off with water. The flotation process meant that more valuable ore could be obtained, but it also increased the production of fine size tailings. These tailings were difficult to remove, as they could pass through screens that were placed in the concentrator to catch them.52 The commission met to draft its report on December 22, 1932, and concluded that “it is evident, and known and admitted by all concerned, that tailings are discharged by the mills into the waters of the Coeur d’Alene River.” However, the commission found no conclusive evidence that stock had been poisoned in the past or that the lead found in the swan carcasses had been the cause of their death.53 Mine owners worked to provide settling basins or reservoirs and to remove the tailings from these by means of a suction dredge at Mission Flats in Cataldo. The dredge began operation July 15, 1932, on an eighthour-a-day schedule; eventually, the dredge operated twenty hours a day. By December 5, 1932, it had removed 500,000 tons of material, at the rate of between twenty-five hundred and three thousand tons daily. The commission was convinced that this would be enough to prevent serious repercussions from the pollution. Commission members concluded that for the drinking water to be harmful, a person would have to drink 2.4 gallons per day.54 Dr. Ellis found that from the South Fork to Cataldo and then to Harrison, the Coeur d’Alene River was “practically devoid of fish fauna,

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bottom fauna or plankton organisms,” but that adjacent unpolluted small lakes were supporting normal fish and ample aquatic vegetation. He concluded, “There is but one solution for this pollution problem as far as fisheries are concerned, namely the exclusion of all mine wastes from the Coeur d’Alene River.”55 Although mining companies were prepared to invest in the dredge and other measures, they were definitely not willing to stop producing ores. The Idaho Mining Industry’s policy was clear by 1946, when it claimed that using water for waste disposal “was in the public interest,” and that while it was also important to solve the problem of water pollution, it should be done on the local level, with industry in the lead, and without interference from the state or other governmental entities.56 Smelter smoke was also a concern. President Stanly Easton warned the Bunker Hill board of directors that the Depression’s economic conditions might lead to smoke claims on the part of farmers “trying to get a little cash,” but Bunker Hill was determined not to make any of these payments.57 During the 1940s the company continued its practice of seeking easements for smelter smoke as well as debris. Margarethe and Trace Jacobs, widowed mother and daughter, granted such an easement in 1940. According to the document, the Jacobs “claim that by reason of the operations of said Bunker Hill Smelter, said Zinc Plant and said Cadmium Plant, their said lands hereinbefore described, including the timber thereon, have been injured by the smoke, fumes, gasses and solid materials,” and that domestic animals have also been harmed. The company was determined to continue production and so purchased the easement from the two women. A 1948 deed also granted the company “the right and privilege of dumping any tailings, waste material or debris that may result from such mining, milling and smelting operations into the Coeur d’Alene River, the South Fork of the Coeur d’Alene River and its tributaries or along the banks thereof or area adjacent thereto” and the right to have the tailings carried away by the river. When the company allowed residents to pasture cattle on company property, the agreements included the stipulation that there be no liability for smoke damage.58 In fact, beginning in 1936 company records include a careful accounting of money expended for “smoke investigation costs,” “crop damage,” veterinary services, and easements.59 Although the public, the government, and the companies were aware that mine tailings and smelter smoke polluted the Kellogg area environment, the importance of mining production to the state and local economy outweighed other concerns.

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No doubt on account of increased worker militancy, but also as a result of having Democrats in the state legislature, a more progressive attitude toward workers, and as a part of the continuing Bunker Hill effort to create worker satisfaction, during the 1930s there was continued interest in safety and health. The solarium attracted considerable attention. All of the literature referred to pathological cases, anemia, and malnutrition as situations where solarium treatment could prove beneficial, but undoubtedly Bunker Hill officials hoped the artificial sunshine treatment would counteract the effects of lead as well. Engineering and Mining Journal stated, “The officials of the company are deserving of great credit for their initiative and enterprise in making an additional effort to overcome one handicap the underground worker has to face.” By February of 1930 the solarium had provided twenty-nine thousand treatments.60 In late 1936 Bunker Hill started a program designed to cut down on dust, and company engineer Harold Carlson received special training in dust control methods at the Air Hygiene Foundation of America in Pittsburgh. The new Bunker Hill program included a physical examination prior to employment and then at regular intervals; routine air sampling; and the installation of equipment to decrease dust. This equipment included an Impinger dust-collecting apparatus, an Owens jet-dust counter, and exhaust systems and water sprays. Ventilation was increased, blasting was postponed until the end of the shift, and the men were to wear respirators when exposed to “excessive amounts of dust.” Annual physical examinations started in 1935 and were conducted by doctors with the hospital contract.61 The government played a more prominent role in worker safety as well, and mine rescue work became a priority. The state mine inspector promulgated written rules and regulations, including a uniform bell system for all hoists. Therefore, every mine in the district operated under the same bell system to notify underground workers when the hoist was being used for ore or for men (when the hoist ran more slowly), and when blasting occurred. Bells informed men as to the hoist’s direction as well. All of this was designed to contribute to safety.62 By 1940 the district had replaced the old mine rescue car put into operation in 1923 with a one-and-one-half-ton Chevrolet truck that carried the rescue and first aid equipment. The truck could get to mine disaster locations more quickly than the train, since no locomotive or train crew was necessary. The vehicle was housed in Wallace, at the center of the district, and could theoretically get to any mine in one hour or less. The U.S. Bureau

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Bunker Hill employees preparing to enter the solarium, c. 1930. (Courtesy Engineering and Mining Journal 130 [August 23, 1930]: 180.)

of Mines inspected safety equipment and provided training in rescue and first aid, and mines introduced a stench warning system to alert underground employees of a fire.63 Despite all of this attention, mining remained a dangerous business. For example, in September 1939 sixteen-year Bunker Hill veteran and chief shaft repairman A. G. Anderson, 42, and Dewey White, 23, his assistant, were killed when they were working on the hoist and the hoistman failed to stop the cage at the shaft. They fell twenty-two hundred feet.64 Although the mining industry could boast considerable progress made toward creating a safer workplace, workers remained only too aware of the constant danger. As another part of its ongoing effort to foster worker satisfaction, the company continued its community activities. In 1937 when a growing number of pupils necessitated expansion of school building facilities, the school district had no funds for the construction or for new equipment. A bond issue would have taken considerable time to put into motion in

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May, when this issue was first discussed. In order for the improvements to be completed in time for the start of school, the Sullivan Company, the Bunker Hill Company, and the Federal Company agreed to contribute thirty thousand dollars to be used at the discretion of the school board, provided the funds went for schools or equipment.65 The YMCA continued to operate and offer vocational education courses. The YMCA also offered classes designed to help foreign-born members become citizens, and the secretary noted that “great care is taken to avoid any domination or paternalism on the part of officers or directors of the Association and to make the YMCA itself an authentic laboratory of democracy.” However, the YMCA prided itself on not just teaching government but also language and custom, and clearly the organization and its company sponsor hoped to inculcate their interpretation of democracy. During the Depression, Bunker Hill lent its “skilled industrial nurse” to teach women classes on home management, nutrition, and family hygiene— another indication of company paternalism.66 World War II marked a continuation of this period of change. In the first place, the war itself had a direct effect. Six hundred and twenty-two Bunker Hill workers served in the armed forces, and seventeen died, including the son of Bunker Hill manager J. B. Haffner.67 In a small and close community such as Kellogg, this had a long-lasting impact, and as was the case for the entire country, World War II was a defining episode in Kellogg history. However, the war proved a financial boon for the company and the community. Net income was $854,351 in 1940, but nearly doubled to $1,468,696 the following year.68 In addition, the wartime emergency served to accelerate developments of the 1930s. The government’s involvement became even more pronounced and was evident at many levels of company operation. Labor was able to consolidate its gains, and the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers finally completed the campaign begun in the 1890s to organize workers at the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company. As during World War I, serious manpower shortages challenged the company while giving leverage to workers and leading to a redefinition of relationships between workers and management. The war sped the organizational process at Bunker Hill properties, where the zinc plant represented a test case for both the union and the company. Prounion sentiment at the zinc plant was arguably stronger than in other Bunker Hill units. Mine-Mill filed a request for an investigation with

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Bunker Hill float with young women representing Bunker Hill’s metal production. “Each a Perfect Product,” Miners’ Picnic Parade, August 22, 1936. (MG5-32, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

the NLRB regional director, and a hearing was held August 28, and 29, 1941. According to information presented at the hearing, there were 309 on the zinc plant payroll list, and Mine-Mill had 174 signed union cards. The company claimed that the Employee Representation Committee was already the bargaining agent, and Manager Haffner stated that he had never bargained with anyone besides the committee since 1934. Despite all-out efforts on the part of the company to prove that the zinc plant was not a separate entity, the NLRB ruled that the zinc plant was an appropriate bargaining unit.69 The election was held on October 29, 1941, and a contract was signed on December 27, 1941.70 Once the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers achieved this inroad into solidly antiunion Bunker Hill, the floodgates of union agitation burst. However, by this time, the country was at war, and Bunker Hill management argued that Bunker Hill products were vital to the war effort and that the government was urging the company

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to “strain every effort to produce.” The mine was operating successfully, the community was peaceful, and the employees were well taken care of, so “an election at the present time under existing conditions is inadvisable, unnecessary and not supported by the record.”71 The NLRB was not convinced, and on May 26, 1942, workers voted 353 for Mine-Mill and 327 against; after fifty years, Bunker Hill workers finally achieved their goal of union recognition.72 The pressures for wartime production had contributed to this victory, and Coeur d’Alene district miners were not alone in using them as leverage to achieve long-sought goals. The International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers joined the rest of organized labor in giving the so-called no-strike pledge. As IUMMSW president Reid Robinson reminded Coeur d’Alene workers in a Kellogg station radio address on June 21, 1943, “First and foremost is the pledge which we have made to the President of the United States not to strike for any reason until victory is won. There are positively no strings attached to this pledge because it is a pledge made on behalf of all the people.”73 Although Robinson claimed there were no strings attached, the IUMMSW certainly believed that in exchange for giving up its main leverage, labor unions should receive War Labor Board support for wage increases and the elimination of inequities in the pay system. As a result, the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers used the Nonferrous Metals Commission to obtain concessions that it had been unable to wrangle from mining companies before the war. During the summer of 1942 a panel representing the National War Labor Board heard a dispute involving Bunker Hill and the other Silver Valley companies’ wage rates. The board ordered a general wage increase of one dollar per shift to the employees involved. The purpose of the increase was to stop out-migration of workers and to ensure production. Since the 1890s, Bunker Hill and other district workers had demanded the closed shop, and companies had fought vehemently against it. In exchange for the “no-strike pledge,” companies throughout the country accepted union shops and the War Labor Board pressured Bunker Hill officials to follow suit. The company accepted maintenance of membership and also a dues checkoff with extreme reluctance. General Superintendent P. C. Fedderson stated this succinctly in a letter to Local No. 18 on December 20, 1943, noting that the acceptance “is not to be construed as a voluntary acceptance,” but rather, one that the company agreed to “because of its unwillingness to raise an issue in this time of war which might hinder or retard maximum production of necessary war materials.”

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“Keep the Ore Cars Rolling.” (Western Federation of Miners/International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers Collection, 383-Pictures, Archives, University of Colorado at Boulder Libraries.)

Fedderson made it clear that the company did not consider this a permanent concession and reserved the right to “withhold consent” to such clauses in future contracts since the company was “definitely opposed to the principle of any form of compulsory requirement for membership in the Union as a condition of employment.”74 The union used the National War Labor Board’s Nonferrous Metals Commission to force additional wage increases as well. Companies believed this would violate the wage stabilization principles of the War Labor Board, but the board ruled in October 1944 that this was not the case. The issue was submitted to arbitration and Vernon E. Wardlaw of the U.S. Conciliation Service was appointed to arbitrate on June 8, 1943; his decision was approved October 5, 1944. Between February 14 and February 16, 1944, Wardlaw heard more than one thousand pages of testimony and visited the Sunshine and Bunker Hill mines, the Bunker Hill

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smelter, and the Sullivan Company zinc plant. Both sides submitted briefs as well. The arbitration hearing aired a number of issues beyond simple rates of pay, centering upon the nature of the work each employee did. For example, one key debate involved miners who were being asked to timber; the position of timberman required additional skill and knowledge. Wardlaw agreed, and found that if miners had to timber, they deserved the timberman rate of eight dollars and seventy-five cents a day, not the miners’ rate of eight dollars and twenty-five cents. Wardlaw created a new classification of timber repairman at nine dollars a day, although the union had wanted nine dollars and twenty-five cents. At the smelter, the union requested increases in thirty classifications, affecting two hundred of four hundred and thirty-seven employees, comparing them to zinc plant and Sunshine antimony plant workers.75 The principle of tying pay to skill levels was a key tenet of the union’s philosophy. In 1944 Mine-Mill demanded that shift differential payments be received, and the Nonferrous Metals Commission ruled that this was fair and met the requirements of the wage stabilization principles.76 All of this was part of a program to combat absenteeism and a shortage of workers that were endemic. Recognizing that they were in the driver’s seat due to the labor shortage, Mine-Mill members sought further improvements in working conditions. The increased production levels meant that dust and gas conditions worsened, and crews believed that their work exposed them to unhealthy conditions. As the baghouse crew noted, a wage increase would not help control the dust and gas, but it would help to “compensate” them for the hardships. The Union Safety Committee at the smelter wanted better dust masks and discussed “the case of a girl in Roaster being refused a respirator.” Granulating men also wanted a raise, since a tremendous amount of dust from the crusher and from the dumping of ashes on the conveyor belt near the pile caused them difficulties. The ore unloading crew argued that they deserved seventy-five cents additional pay each shift due to the dust and gas conditions that were worse than at other parts of the plant.77 Mine-Mill requested time-and-a-half for employees performing the work of flue cleaning. This involved men donning respirators and goggles and going into the flue to shovel out the very fine dust. Bunker Hill official P. C. Feddersen noted that while it was an “unusually dirty job” and “more disagreeable than the work the men regularly perform,” it was not hazardous. However, the National War Labor Board/Nonferrous Metals Commission disagreed, and on May 16, 1944, ruled that it was practice

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to pay extra for “hazardous and unpleasant work.”78 In this case, the federal government’s intervention allowed Coeur d’Alene district workers to achieve a concession on working conditions that they would not otherwise have received. In a further attempt to combat growing labor shortages through cutting turnover, Bunker Hill made more improvements in dust and fume collection; better ventilation was a key. As the mining works extended deeper into the earth (now four hundred feet below sea level), the mine got warmer, up to eighty-seven degrees Fahrenheit with relative humidity of 96 percent. Bunker Hill installed a Carrier Mine Spot Cooler, a Freon compressor, and lowered the temperature to between seventy-eight and eighty-two degrees, with relative humidity of 84 percent. This represented a noticeable improvement and was the first application of artificial cooling to the deep mines of the Coeur d’Alene mining district.79 The wartime situation also had an impact on production. The Nonferrous Metals Commission of the National War Labor Board had responsibility for metals producers such as Bunker Hill. Though the company had no direct military contracts, its products, especially lead and zinc, were critical to the war effort. Fifty percent of zinc production and fifteen percent of lead production was set aside to meet military requirements. As a result, Bunker Hill received priority ratings.80 At first, the Office of Production Management placed zinc under a special form of priority control, requiring producers to set aside a percentage of their production each month to create a pool out of which the Priorities Division allocated to meet urgent needs. On June 11, 1941, zinc was put under full priority control, and all military needs were to be met before civilian requirements. One ramification of this development was an even stronger Bunker Hill demand for tariff protection, because the company feared that the increase in zinc production would create surpluses after the war. Company officials’ judgment was correct, as the wartime demand for metals was terrific, especially zinc.81 During 1926 the United States had used 718,000 tons of zinc and 95 percent of that had been mined in this country. In 1941, before the United States entered World War II, U.S. consumption was l million tons of zinc, and only 45 percent of that had been mined in the United States. It was clear that increased domestic production was a necessity.82 The Bunker Hill Company sought to increase overall production of valuable metals utilizing every technological innovation at its disposal. The company erected a new slag-fuming plant and a new electrolytic

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antimony plant. The slag-fuming plant was designed to remove lead, zinc, and cadmium from smelter slag. There were only two similar plants in the region, at Toole, Utah, and Trail, British Columbia. The Bunker Hill slag dump was one of the largest deposits of reclaimable zinc in the West, and the new plant allowed the company both to get additional metal out of molten slag and also to obtain lead from slag dumps that had accumulated since the smelter started operation. The plant cost about a half million dollars and was capable of treating two million tons of cold dump slag mixed with hot slag from the lead smelter per year, or about five hundred tons daily. Fifty tons or more of zinc oxide represented the final product. Bunker Hill officials had been planning this addition since 1929, but the Depression called a halt to the process. The idea was revived after the beginning of the national defense program.83 Before World War II there were only two antimony smelters in the United States—one at Laredo, Texas, and one at Los Angeles, so most antimony used in this country was imported from China. The fact that antimony was a strategic metal with an important function in metallurgy of munitions provided the impetus for expanding production. Ores from the Coeur d’Alene dry ore belt where silver was found in conjunction with other metals presented a promising source, and Harold E. Lee and other Bunker Hill employees developed a process to remove antimony from these ores. Their electrolytic process to remove the antimony resulted in one of the highest grades of antimony available on the world market. The company also benefited because antimony was an impurity in lead.84 The combination of increased demand for metals, the no-strike pledge, the union security agreement, and the federal government’s higher profile shaped labor-management disagreements. When the War Labor Board approved the one-dollar pay increase, half of it, or fifty cents a shift, was to be paid only every fourth payday and was “contingent upon the individual’s compliance with rules and regulations as to continuity of work and standards of production.” Labor and management were to negotiate these rules. Both labor and management said this was hopelessly complex, so the board said as soon as it could come up with a mutually acceptable program to lessen absenteeism, the company could discontinue the holdback.85 Management and labor were unable to accomplish this until the 1944 contract negotiation period, a dramatic illustration of the continuing labor-management tension. Labor-management controversies continued at the company despite the war effort, as both sides sought to maintain their positions. In late

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1942 a presidential order confined nonferrous metals workers in the thirteen western states to their industry. Before the order, there were few discharges or compulsory layoffs because the manpower shortage was so critical. Following the order, the company saw an opportunity to regain its control, since workers were unable to leave. According to the union, Bunker Hill management began to lay off men for three days “for any slight infringement” of rules, even slowing up a job. Shift bosses, “of whom we never heard previous to the Presidential Order,” were discharging two or more men every two weeks. The union and the company jockeyed to obtain the upper hand in their relationship. Management and labor were supposed to cooperate on a Labor Management Committee. When the regional representative of the War Production Drive wrote to Local No. 18 financial secretary Ray Arnold about how the committee had worked, Arnold replied, “I must inform you that any report I could send in would not be suitable for printing.” According to labor activists, management was always looking for an “opportunity to ridicule the Washington bureaucrats” and could not accept labor “on an equal basis.” For example, the usual label was “labor-management committees,” but Bunker Hill management insisted on calling them “Management-Labor Committees.” This kind of pettiness is indicative of the difficulty in achieving any kind of cooperation. For their part, Bunker Hill management claimed that government bureaucracy and heavy taxation inhibited their efforts to meet production goals.86 The lack of available labor to meet war production needs continued to be one of the biggest problems the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company faced. The company tried several solutions. Public places in the district, except restaurants, were closed at midnight to reduce absenteeism. To encourage attendance and due to gasoline rationing, a bus system from Cataldo, Kingston, Pinehurst, and Smelterville operated to provide transportation for company workers.87 Men who had been drafted were given discharges and returned to the district. Perhaps the most experimental solution was to hire women to work in the smelter. By May 1945 the company employed about two hundred women, and, according to General Manager J. B. Haffner, the women were for the most part “satisfactory” employees, although “work suitable for women is naturally somewhat limited.” The company turned to the increased use of machinery in order to limit the number of physically demanding jobs. At the same time, men had to move to the jobs

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requiring greater physical strength and give their more desirable jobs to the women. In order to encourage this, if men moved to lesser-paying positions, they retained the higher rate of pay and also seniority rights; the union and company formulated a supplementary agreement to formalize this arrangement, and the agreement was a model one.88 Male workers still objected. For example, O. M. Coolin filed a grievance because he had to clean the flumes while women were sent out to do other work that was neither so arduous nor so dirty.89 Despite this kind of resentment, women were accepted for union membership, and, in fact, Anna Dam served as recording secretary and Martha Aro as financial secretary. The local passed a resolution calling for changes in the IUMMSW ritual to include women.90 In order to accommodate the needs of working mothers, the union established a committee to investigate the possibility of setting up a child-care center for the children of women workers, and sent letters to organizations, employers, the Junior Chamber of Commerce, and local ministers seeking support. This initiative was met with reserve from all sides, an indication of all of the groups’ conviction that women in the workplace were only a temporary, and certainly not desirable, necessity.91 Mine-Mill in the Coeur d’Alene district, as was true of the IUMMSW, became more closely tied to President Franklin D. Roosevelt and the Democratic party and tended to adopt left-leaning positions on a number of issues. Local members were active in the Russian War Relief movement; they supported Henry Wallace’s nomination as vice president. They wrote to Idaho representative Henry Dworshak, opposing the Smith-Connally Anti-Strike bill, “a vicious anti-labor bill,” and they protested the treatment of Joseph Curran, president of the National Maritime Workers. The union sponsored a weekly radio program, “Labor in Wartime,” on which they urged a second front in Europe and supported Harry Bridges, the leader of the left-wing International Longshoreman’s Union.92 Local No. 18 and Auxiliary No. 65 established a joint legislative committee in 1943 that met every week. They subscribed to the Daily Worker, People’s World, New World, the Union, and the CIO News, and used information they gleaned from reading these publications as the basis for political discussion and action. During the 1944 presidential election, Silver Valley Mine-Mill responded to an urgent letter from Philip Murray and Sidney Hillman, of the CIO Political Action Committee (PAC), that said it was the number-one job of every union official to get the vote out to “assure the re-election of

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Woman worker in zinc plant during World War II. (Album 2, picture 45, KPL No. 38, courtesy Kellogg Public Library, Kellogg, Idaho.)

President Roosevelt—for speedy victory in the war, lasting peace in the world, and jobs for all here at home.” Mine-Mill president Reid Robinson pointed out that a contribution to the political action campaign was an “investment in the security and happiness of our nation.”93 These efforts were particularly important since the Smith-Connally Law made it illegal for union locals to make political contributions. Coeur d’Alene district union people responded positively to these appeals. The union PAC met in conjunction with Democratic precinct committeemen to plan strategy, and, in fact, several members of the PAC also served as precinct committeemen themselves.94 They raised money, usually in one-dollar donations, and they circulated leaflets that favorably compared labor’s status under President Roosevelt to that during Herbert Hoover’s presidency. Women’s prominent role in all of this is noteworthy. In fact, the head of the women’s division of the national CIO-PAC was Verda W. Barnes

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from Idaho Falls, who wrote to Anna Dam to congratulate her on her fine work and send her the “Woman’s Guide to Political Action.” Dam served as vice chair of the Political Action Committee for Locals No. 9, No. 14, and No. 567 and Auxiliaries No. 46 and No. 65.95 The fifteen-minute-long Mine-Mill radio program, “Labor in Wartime,” aired every Thursday at 4:45 on radio station KWAL. These programs often featured pro-Roosevelt messages and also encouraged Mine-Mill wives to work for the president’s reelection. The women’s division of the CIO-PAC urged women to form baby-tending committees to facilitate participation. Each woman should have PAC cards in her purse at all times, and the committee emphasized that this applied not just to woman workers, but to the wives of workers as well.96 Women’s involvement would remain an integral part of Mine-Mill activities in the Coeur d’Alenes throughout the remainder of the union’s existence. Both Mine-Mill and the Bunker Hill Company management began to look ahead to the war’s end by 1944 and to begin jockeying for position. The immediate postwar period was a time when both sides attempted to establish themselves on a firm footing while endeavoring to acclimate to new postwar realities. First, the expansion that had gone on during the 1930s, and that had accelerated during the war, now really took off as the company prepared to meet postwar demands. In 1947, in light of historically high metals prices, Bunker Hill became the first lead-zinc mine to experiment with block caving methods, which allowed large, low-grade ore bodies initially deemed to be waste to be mined profitably. (The block caving method involves allowing “blocks” of ore to collapse, due to their own weight, in a controlled fashion.) Following exploration and sampling, the company determined that one place to begin the process was near the location where Noah Kellogg’s donkey discovered the mine. Bunker Hill planned to block cave about five million tons of low-grade lead/ zinc ore over a nine-year period. The face of the hill overlooking Kellogg would change; as the ore was taken out, the hillside would cave in. 97 In order to process this additional ore, the company expanded its surface plants. The mill, which had a capacity of twelve hundred tons a day, was increased to eighteen hundred tons a day during the war, and in 1948 to three thousand tons a day, which dwarfed other mills in the district. The smelter was producing five thousand tons of lead a month in 1948, almost double that of late 1947. 98 The zinc plant was enlarged from 3,400 to 4,250 tons a month capacity. One hundred and fifty additional cells were added

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to make it possible to process ore from neighboring mines as well as Bunker Hill ore.99 The company purchased control of Pend Oreille Mines & Metals, close to Metaline Falls, Washington, and in British Columbia, a controlling interest in the Reeves MacDonald property.100 After five years of experimentation, Harold Lee developed a system to recover cadmium from lead smelter fume, baghouse waste. Bunker Hill constructed a plant capable of producing fifty thousand pounds of 99.96 percent pure cadmium a month, as a replacement to the previous cadmium recovery system at the zinc plant.101 The labor shortage continued to be a major challenge for the Bunker Hill Company during the postwar period, particularly since turnover was incredibly high—in 1947 the company reported twenty-eight hundred hires and twenty-five hundred quits.102 In an attempt to find solutions to this acute labor shortage, the company expended money for building new housing to attract younger workers. The first phase of the family housing project was to cost $350,000, with a total price of about $1 million. It would include a boarding house with room for several hundred employees, five apartment houses, and forty-eight single-family homes.103 Bunker Hill also continued the wartime practice of more mechanization as a strategy for decreasing the need for additional workers. As the mine grew to greater depths, it was taking crews one and one-half hours a shift, or 25 percent of the available work time, to set up and take down their equipment. Bunker Hill employees designed a light, flexible, easily transported drilling machine and outfitted it with pneumatic columns. Two- and three-man crews supplied at a cost of twenty thousand dollars, with this new equipment, could do the work of large prewar gangs.104 For its part, the union took advantage of the labor shortage to leverage its demands. The International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers was aggressive in handling grievances. The records make it clear that the union carried grievances forward even when there was some question as to their validity. It was the union’s job to take care of its membership and to make certain that the collective bargaining agreement was followed to the letter, and Bunker Hill workers expected nothing less from their labor organization. The case of Thomas Quilter illustrates how much both labor and management invested in the grievance process. On Sunday, May 2, 1948, a group of “hooligans” waylaid Quilter and beat him. He was unable to work and received a doctor’s release. When he returned to work and gave

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his shift boss the release, Bob Moore at first questioned its authenticity and then informed Quilter that he no longer had a job. The union claimed this was “unquestionably” an unjust discharge and asked for reinstatement with rights intact and pay for all shifts lost; the grievance went all the way to arbitration, before Ernest F. Harold. The company maintained that Quilter had a poor absentee record and had, in fact, been off fourteen days without an excuse the previous month. He was assigned to muck alone, which the company admitted was distasteful work for a miner and well recognized as punishment. The company referred to contractual language that gave them the exclusive right to “discipline or discharge for proper cause.” The Bunker Hill attorney told the arbitrator that Quilter’s 27 percent absentee rate demonstrated that he “was totally indifferent to his employer’s welfare. Production—which made his job possible—was of no concern to him. This attitude of indifference was also apparent from his attitude on the witness stand.” Quilter claimed he had been discharged due to an FBI investigation into his union activities. According to the union, Quilter had received no warning regarding absenteeism, but rather, Bob Moore had only discussed his “radical activities.” Quilter was a shop steward and a grievance committee member and had been active in organizing the district; the union argued that he had been singled out in a crew where absenteeism was rife. He had twenty years’ experience and no other mine in the district would hire him, something the union found an unlikely coincidence.105 The entire case serves to illustrate the wide chasm that separated labor and management. Another labor-management issue involved the women who had come to work in the company plants during the war. Evelyn Schlect was a member of the first group of women; she began work in the zinc plant on September 24, 1943. As was the case with many industrial plants, Bunker Hill sought to accommodate women “due to the extreme shortage of men,” and the company assigned Schlect to a position in the lead-burning department. Her job included some work that the company deemed too heavy for a woman to perform, so either a male worker in her department or a male member of the bull gang (general labor) was called upon to complete these tasks. In 1946 the company believed the labor shortage was less acute, and officials decided to rearrange work so that women were assigned only to duties that they could do without assistance. In Schlect’s case, she was able to work in the lead-burning department for

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half a shift, and the company assigned her to clean the women’s dry and other duties for the other half shift. Olga Rubino was then assigned to general plant cleanup work. Rubino claimed that this violated her seniority in the bull gang, but the company argued that the bull gang was not a department and that seniority had no application to the “desirability” of a job. The company believed that permitting employees to assert their seniority on personal preference would result in “constant shifting of workers” and a general disruption of production and orderly operation.106 Rubino eventually lost her grievance, and the case illustrates how both the company and the union had to grapple with the women in the plant after the war. Pete Piekarski, a longtime smelter employee, indicated that women employees were given a hard time by both the company, which “tried to make life miserable,” and most union members, who “felt that women belonged in the home and had no business out in industry.”107 It is striking that Mine-Mill carried forward this grievance that pitted the Hispanic Rubino against a Caucasian union member, but women still were never on equal footing with men. The Bunker Hill Company and the rest of American employers applauded the passage of the Taft-Hartley Act, which, according to management, restored a balance to the labor-management relationship that had been absent since the Wagner Act had gone into effect. For its part, Mine-Mill referred to Taft-Hartley as the “Slave Labor Law” and joined the rest of organized labor in working for its appeal.108 By the end of the period, two especially troublesome issues confronted Bunker Hill union people. Following a disputed Mine-Mill International officer election, Philip Murray appointed a CIO committee to investigate. This CIO probe of Mine-Mill concluded that there was indeed Communist influence in the International.109 The House Un-American Activities Committee also examined Mine-Mill and found that the union’s “policies and activities . . . are directed toward the achievement of the program and purposes of the Communist Party.”110 The 1949 CIO convention expelled Mine-Mill along with nine other international unions on the grounds that they were Communist dominated.111 Despite these attacks, Mine-Mill locals in the West remained loyal. Engineering and Mining Journal reported with thinly veiled disgust, “Their hate-the-boss propaganda is incessantly violent, and utterly irresponsible. The hold these men have on the MMSW organization was demonstrated by the recent failure of an anti-communist drive to budge

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even one western local out of the MMSW.”112 Western miners’ loyalty to Mine-Mill was longstanding and deeply held. In the cold war climate of the immediate postwar period, mining companies were wary of Mine-Mill. Engineering and Mining Journal warned that Mine-Mill was bankrupt “both financially and spiritually” and predicted that, without CIO backing, the union would disintegrate. This leading industry journal proclaimed that a Communist was a “cold fish with a grudge in his heart and an elastic conscience, and a strange willingness to let somebody from Russia lead him around by the nose.”113 The specter of Communism simply added another dimension to deepseated animosity between labor and management. One mine manager warned that companies would be unable to defeat Communism among their workers until they could “overcome the handicap of several years of something-for-nothing New-Dealism.”114 Labor union people tended to view the anti-Communism fuss as simply another in a long line of management attempts to discredit Mine-Mill.115 While the International was coping with these accusations, Coeur d’Alene district workers had contract concerns on their minds. By July 1948 talk of a strike was more frequent. Mine-Mill was attempting to negotiate a new contract with the thirty-two mining companies in the district. Although the union’s original wage demand of a thirty-centan-hour increase was certainly significant and received much media attention, the most divisive and important issue was the health and welfare package that was modeled on the United Auto Workers (UAW) example. The union considered the health and welfare package a “must,” and 72 percent voted to reject a company proposal that did not meet the union’s expectations. The union wanted 4.8 cents per man-hour contributed to the welfare plan.116 Tempers flared. According to Local No. 18 financial secretary E. A. Bush, Rudy Hanson, a union officer, was “the victim of a cowardly and unwarranted attack” by Hecla supervisor Lee Messerly when Hanson was struck from behind. The union considered this an unmanly, “dastardly” assault on the whole membership. Of course Hanson was able to regroup and defend himself, but union members saw this incident as indicative of management tactics.117 The Bunker Hill smelter was the first to go out on strike on August 20, catching even Stanly Easton by surprise, since it represented the first production interruption due to a labor dispute in fifty years.118 Although the International was attempting to deal with the Communist accusations,

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Secretary-Treasurer Maurice Travis declared the strike “the major struggle this year behind Mine-Mill’s wage and contract program.”119 The Coeur d’Alene locals were determined to win the strike, and they used all of their resources to that end. The locals made home-canning facilities available to the membership. Members of the Ladies Auxiliary held a special open meeting for their members and other women. According to the union publication, “It was plain, once the discussion got under way, that the women do know what the strike issues are, do know how important the outcome is to their children and their future, and do know the need for their own participation in strike activity.” One Auxiliary member noted, “We women know this—that we’re ready to sacrifice for as long as necessary.”120 Coeur d’Alene mining district women had a long history of union involvement, and now they prided themselves on the role they played in supporting the strike. The strike literature emphasized the health and welfare issue. A radio interview over station KWAL highlighted Mike Durick, a charter member of Mine-Mill in the Coeur d’Alenes. The seventy-nine-year-old Durick resided in the county poorhouse and proclaimed, “After twenty-three years in the mines all I’ve got to show for it is bad lungs, a bad back and the right to live off the County.” He urged Coeur d’Alene miners to save themselves from a similar plight by continuing the strike.121 Kellogg Local No. 18 broke the districtwide solidarity by voting 673 to 536 to end the strike, in what was later referred to by Local No. 18 stalwarts as the “49 sell-out.” Members of the other locals deeply resented the Kellogg decision.122 Union negotiators had sought a program wherein the companies would pay 67 percent of dependent medical care and would also provide a sickness and accident policy. Bunker Hill workers settled for a fifty-fifty split for both.123 Although union official E. A. Bush’s public pronouncements claimed the settlement “represents a victory,” he admitted to a union official of Local No. 51, in Selby, California, that “the settlement was not too satisfactory, but with both lead and zinc prices on the skids it was as good as could be obtained.”124 The 1949 strike experience brought home to Local No. 18 members that the gains they had enjoyed during World War II could be in jeopardy. As the decade came to an end, Kellogg, Idaho’s, Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company prepared to seek new opportunities in the post–World War II period. For the most part, workers shared the company’s optimism and looked forward to new prosperity in the wake of the sacrifices the Depression and World War II had required. The Taft-Hartley Act and the

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1949 contract had made some progress in restoring what company officials deemed to be the appropriate balance between labor and management, although workers had succeeded in gaining union recognition and a strong union presence. The crises of the Depression and the World War, and their accompanying increase in governmental interference, were over, and Bunker Hill officials hoped to regain some of their autonomy. Their optimistic outlook was bolstered by a huge ore discovery, the Shea Ore Body, on the No. 17 level of the Bunker Hill mine. It was one of the biggest discoveries in Bunker Hill history and seemed to place the company on the threshold of a period of expansion and success.125

CHAPTER 5

New Realities, 1949–1968

Between 1949 and 1968 the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company sought to diversify its activities and to insulate itself from the impact of uncertain metals markets. The company faced pressure from stockholders, workers, and governmental entities as it tried to adapt to a more complex economic situation. A bitter strike plunged workers and management into a grueling fight for control that accentuated class divisions of long duration. Under the leadership of Frederick Bradley’s son, John, management struggled to diversify the company’s product base, update company physical plants, and restructure its managerial and organizational design. The company literally searched the world for additional ores to feed the Kellogg zinc plant and smelter. In the end, Bunker Hill company officials were so successful that despite their Herculean efforts to avoid it, the company fell victim to a hostile takeover that not only changed the company’s situation, but also altered forever important relationships between company and community. The post–World War II economic boom led the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company to launch a widespread expansion effort during the early 1950s, including construction of a 250-ton-per-day sulfuric acid plant. Stanly Easton and other Bunker Hill officials recognized that the disposal of waste smelter fumes was becoming more urgent; potential liability to the company originated from complaints of vegetation damage, despite the ongoing company policy of compensating for smoke damage. This attitude was confirmed when officials from the Forest Service expressed concerns about the death of trees in the Coeur d’Alene

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National Forest and attributed these deaths to zinc plant fumes.1 Sulfuric acid plant operation necessitated significant modifications at the zinc plant to replace the eight wedge-type roasters with four suspension-type roasters.2 The new plant began operations in April 1952 and, from a production standpoint, was very satisfactory. However, the company was unable to locate sufficient market for the acid production, and, therefore, Bunker Hill expanded efforts in that direction.3 (In part, insufficient markets were a problem because smelters across the country were pursuing the same strategy and there was a glut of sulfuric acid.4) The Bunker Hill smelter enjoyed its biggest output in twenty years during 1950. As a result, the company determined to expand the smelter to a capacity of 100,000 tons, at a price tag of $3 million.5 While earlier smelter production relied primarily on Coeur d’Alene district ores, this expansion required concentrates from outside the area. The company’s relentless search for ores would characterize the remainder of the decade. In 1954 Bunker Hill announced that it would build a $5 million sintering facility at its lead smelter that would replace the ten existing sintering machines with one large one. Bunker Hill also added a new laboratory.6 These developments set the tone of the 1950s—expansion, modification of surface plants to incorporate new technology, and a concerted effort to locate both ore concentrates and markets for Bunker Hill products. The 1950s was a transitional decade for Bunker Hill management both in terms of personnel and organizational structure. Easton had started work at Bunker Hill and Sullivan in 1896, had become manager in 1903, had served an apprenticeship under Frederick W. Bradley, and had assumed the company presidency upon Bradley’s death, in 1933. By the 1950s Easton was ready to begin curtailing his day-to-day oversight of the company. John D. Bradley, Frederick Bradley’s youngest son, stepped in to take over some of the responsibility. John “Jack” Bradley had married Stanly Easton’s daughter, Jane, in 1935, making his rise in the Bunker Hill ranks appear even more a family affair—in fact, it took on the trappings of a family dynasty. According to Easton, Frederick Bradley had groomed his sons “since infancy” to assume their place in the business, so Jack Bradley’s leadership was welcome.7 Jack Bradley’s relationship to the Bunker Hill Company was informed not just by his family heritage, but also by the close connections he maintained with the Kellogg community. He had pleasant childhood memories of summers spent in Kellogg and at the Boy Scout camp on nearby Lake Coeur d’Alene, and he enjoyed a cordial personal relationship with

The Kellogg Tunnel entrance. (MG367-2526, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

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many Bunker Hill employees and Kellogg residents. Of course, Jane Easton Bradley was also well known in Kellogg and had significant community connections, since she had grown up in the town. In 1954 Easton requested that he be allowed to step down as president and assume the honorary title of chairman of the Board of Directors; two years later he retired and was named Honorary Chairman and Company Director emeritus. John D. Bradley became the seventh president of the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company on March 29, 1955. He represented a new generation in terms of both his age and outlook, and he set about modernizing every aspect of Bunker Hill operations.8 The Bunker Hill management was determined to take advantage of the upper hand it had gained in the 1949 strike. This was in keeping with an industrywide effort among mining concerns to limit labor’s power; companies believed that since the New Deal, labor had enjoyed the initiative, and they were determined to alter this situation. Engineering and Mining Journal and other mining publications discussed sophisticated and detailed methods for accomplishing this. The International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers faced a barrage of charges of Communist influence within the union. These charges had profound effects on Bunker Hill and the Kellogg community. Fears of Communism had deep roots among company officials as they contemplated the union’s history of radicalism dating from the 1890s. Easton had dealt with Mine-Mill and its predecessor, Western Federation of Miners, for almost fifty years; Jack Bradley, well aware of his father’s unpleasant associations, shared Easton’s political conservatism and distrust of the union. The predominant cold war mentality only served to accentuate these concerns. The entire mining industry was cognizant of the vital role its products played in keeping the country in readiness for a possible confrontation with the Soviet Union or its allies. Professional mining organizations and the industry’s journals urged constant vigilance against potential Communist infiltration and control.9 The CIO began to investigate charges of Communist influence in several member unions, including the IUMMSW.10 At about the same time, Mine-Mill was wracked by an internecine battle over the issue when President Reid Robinson’s own Communist sympathies and his promotion of Communists, especially Maurice Travis, led to disputes.11 In the midst of this turmoil, Congress had passed, in 1947, the Taft-Hartley Act, which included the requirement that union officials sign affidavits

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swearing they were not members of the Communist Party. Mine-Mill officers initially refused to sign the affidavits on the grounds that the required signatures violated their First Amendment right to free association. Eventually, the leadership did sign the statements, although Maurice Travis, then serving as secretary-treasurer, publicly announced his resignation from the Communist Party in order to sign. The CIO expelled Mine-Mill in 1950 for its pro-Communist positions, and most of Mine-Mill’s international officers were indicted and eventually convicted on grounds that they had falsely sworn the Taft-Hartley affidavits.12 In August 1951 the Communist influence in Mine-Mill controversy came to Kellogg following an incident that, on its face, appears to be minor, indeed. KWAL, the local radio station, carried an interview with Jack Benton Blackwell (born in Hammond, Idaho, in 1913) who, in June, had accompanied a group of labor officials and union members on a trip to the Soviet Union. Blackwell told listeners that he had spent twentythree days in Russia and had spoken with thousands of people there. He claimed that the United States should try to emulate the Soviet Union’s record when it came to working conditions, the educational system, and the status of women in society, and he advocated the establishment of trade between the United States and the Soviet Union.13 This radio program created an uproar in the Silver Valley and beyond. According to longtime Bunker Hill personnel director Ray Chapman, the speech “so glorified Russia” that the community was up in arms.14 Faculty members and students at Gonzaga, a Catholic college in nearby Spokane, Washington, denounced the program, Blackwell, and the IUMMSW. District miners expressed shock and outrage at Blackwell’s statements, as did members of Kellogg Local No. 18; the IUMMSW organized to “combat the communist taint” on their local and union. One response was a fivehundred-car anti-Communist caravan that toured the district; another was anti-Communist proclamations from the three local mayors.15 A Spokesman Review editorial warned readers that due to its long history of union militancy, residents of the area had a tendency to ignore labor troubles in the Coeur d’Alenes, and this apathy created a “near perfect situation for communist infiltration into one of the nation’s most vital industries.” The editorial went on to claim that the one thing the Communists had overlooked was the power and influence of Coeur d’Alene mining district women—“When the women begin to realize their men are being played for a bunch of suckers by the commies there will be a real showdown. And the commies, so far, appear to have made

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the one fatal mistake—they’ve underestimated the power of a woman.” The editorial introduced a fascinating phenomenon of the anti-Communist rhetoric of the entire decade. Women in the Silver Valley were vocal spokespeople for both sides and played a significant role in what was usually considered to be a male-dominated industry.16 Many area residents joined the Shoshone County Anti-Communist Association (SCACA); its membership tripled in three weeks. By 1952 the SCACA received contributions from forty-eight community organizations, including the American Legion, the Kellogg Chamber of Commerce, the Masonic Lodge, church guilds, the American Association of University Women, and the Daughters of the American Revolution. The association’s leadership was decidedly middle class, although Bunker Hill hourly employee Eddie Adams was an early member. Local community officials denied access to the Civic Auditorium for union programs, including an appearance by Vincent Hallinan, labor leader Harry Bridges’ attorney.17 In the wake of this anti-Communist outcry, Mine-Mill stalwarts such as Peter Piekarski warned that the Communism issue was “a smokescreen used by the bosses to break unions and maintain profits.”18 Certainly, animosity and distrust permeated workers’ relationships. Two former Mine-Mill Local No. 18 officers, Art Lennon and Merlin Hoffman, were promoted to salaried positions at Bunker Hill, amidst speculation that the men’s advancement was a reward for providing the FBI with information regarding alleged Communists within the local. Mine-Mill people claimed that the FBI sought to intimidate them and wiretapped many of their homes. Physical altercations between workers were not uncommon.19 These rifts continued to grow and fester throughout the decade. Both the company and Local No. 18 revisited the issue in 1955. The Mine-Mill contract expired July 1, 1955, and United Steelworkers used the occasion for yet another jurisdictional challenge (they had successfully ousted Mine-Mill at the Sunshine in 1954). Ernest Weinert, past president of Local No. 18, undertook to lead the Steelworkers raid. He noted that “the Mine-Mill boys will tell you that I’m disloyal and a traitor. Yes, I am, not to the honest working people of the Coeur d’Alenes who really believe in the good old American way of life. If I’m a traitor, it is strictly to communism and will always be disloyal to the subversive elements.”20 Steelworkers charged that Mine-Mill people stood at the Bunker Hill gates with a list, checking those who signed United Steelworkers cards and claimed that this was “intimidation and coercion.”21

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However, Mine-Mill soundly defeated the Steelworkers in the July 14, 1955, voting by a 956–319 margin.22 By the middle of the decade, declining markets, turmoil within MineMill, and the managerial transition at Bunker Hill all converged, making this period one of the most unsettled in all of Bunker Hill and Sullivan history. Jack Bradley was at the center of every aspect. Bradley put considerable energy into revamping Bunker Hill management, diversifying the Bunker Hill Company, and improving the quality of life in Kellogg. To this end, he created the Employee and Public Relations Division in 1955. He wanted to make Kellogg “a more attractive place for employees to work and live” and was determined to improve housing, city planning, the hospital, and recreational facilities. Bunker Hill decided it was time to replace the old Wardner Hospital—basically a company hospital— with a new, public one. Mine-Mill (in line with the historic union desire to remove health care from company control) embraced the hospital project as well, and union members campaigned diligently on behalf of the hospital. Kellogg citizens voted 803 to 20 in favor of creating the West Shoshone Hospital District.23 In a similar vein, Bunker Hill took steps to end company ownership of housing (the company owned 107 houses outright and the land underneath another 188 to 220 houses).24 On June 11, 1956, Jack Bradley announced that the company would sell all of its houses, although the company maintained an element of control since the management committee would decide which employees would receive an opportunity to purchase houses.25 Bunker Hill encouraged a move of the Kellogg airport since the airport site could be used for residential construction and the public hospital, and the new airport location would allow better airline service.26 Bradley approved of a change in the Kellogg city limits so that the mine property came within the city in 1955 and the smelter in 1956. This increased the tax base, and Bradley believed it would allow the City of Kellogg to take over providing services the company had previously supplied. Bradley announced that Bunker Hill would sell the local electrical utility company to Washington Water Power. The sale marked a major step in Bunker Hill divesting itself of nonmining related business enterprises and was also another indication of Kellogg becoming an established community.27 Under Bradley’s personal direction, the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company launched a research program designed to

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identify new uses for lead and zinc. Bunker Hill had owned a controlling interest in the Northwest Lead Company since 1931 (it was a 92.5 percentowned subsidiary); in September 1956 Bunker Hill purchased Northwest Lead Company outright. It operated a fabrication plant in Seattle and sales offices and warehouses in Los Angeles, Oakland, and Portland. Following the purchase, these holdings became the fabrication division of Bunker Hill.28 The company acquired Associated Lead & Zinc and built an office warehouse near Los Angeles. These formed the basis of the chemical products division of the Bunker Hill Company. A variety of lead and zinc products were produced, principally lead oxides and red lead, the latter used as a primer on bridges such as the Golden Gate and the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge.29 By the 1950s Bunker Hill officials were certain that their mine had staying power and that it would continue to produce ore for the foreseeable future, thus allowing the company to engage in long-range planning. However, officials recognized that the Bunker Hill mine could only produce about one third of the metal needed to operate the lead smelter and about one tenth of the zinc plant requirements, so obtaining reliable ore sources became a priority. As an initial step, Bunker Hill purchased Hecla Mining Company’s interest in the Sullivan Mining Company and Pend Oreille Mines & Metals.30 During 1956 Bunker Hill officials examined forty-nine properties in the United Sates and Canada and optioned three for testing during 1957; they also visited twenty-six mining properties in Latin America.31 Business had grown considerably since the 1887 document incorporating the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company had been written. To symbolize the growth and the transition to a more diversified operation, the company changed its name to simply the Bunker Hill Company. As Bradley noted, the company was “far advanced beyond what is implied by the restrictive words ‘mining and concentrating,’” and the new, shorter title allowed for the custom smelting of concentrates from Canada, Australia, and South America, as well as from other mines; sulfuric acid production; and the fabrication and sales divisions’ activities.32 The company moved into the new Bunker Hill Building, a five-story office structure at 660 Market Street in San Francisco.33 Bradley constantly reiterated his conviction that economic conditions made managerial efficiency an urgent matter and that cost reduction would receive additional emphasis.34

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Worker packaging Bunker Hill Red Lead, Coast Operations, Pacific Division, Seattle plant, May 1968. (MG376-2358-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

All of this was not lost upon the union. Whereas the company sought to modernize operations and gain greater efficiency, the union often viewed these moves as an attempt to instigate the dreaded “speed-up” and as threats to employment security, as well as health and safety. Consequently, Mine-Mill sought to put in writing agreements regarding crew sizes and pace of work so that they would become part of the collective bargaining agreement and thus be safe from management meddling. A large-scale smelter grievance in 1954, dealing with general operation of the smelter, attempted to achieve this goal.35 The union claimed that the highly profitable operation of the blast furnace was maintained at the expense of the health of workers and the “smoking up of the whole district with poisonous fumes.” According to the union, the way to protect the men was to lessen their time in the high

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Gate at no. 1 shaft as twenty-two mine crew members are about to be lowered to their work sites. (MG367-2407-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

concentration of fumes and gases. This required larger crews and more relief men. The speed-up meant more exposure to fumes, so Mine-Mill demanded that if work pace increased by one-third, the size of the crew had to be increased by one-third as well. The company wanted to increase production first and then think about health and safety.36 A year later, another grievance stated that the smelter conditions were “absolutely unbearable” and that the speed-up continued to increase the dust, fumes, and gas hazard.37 Local No. 18 recognized that maintaining its position would fly in the face of management’s initiatives. In this case, the rank-and-file members were even ahead of their leaders, as a wildcat strike before contract negotiations in 1956 illustrated. Although a discharge was the immediate trigger, underground workers at the mine claimed that the speed-up and a “series of grievances” were responsible for them walking off the job.

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The smelter and zinc plant were not affected, but miners refused to work for a week.38 During the contract negotiations that followed, classic labor issues played a central role. Despite the recurring Communist domination issue, Mine-Mill was determined to provide its members with an advantageous contract. Union security was a key question, one that had been at the heart of Mine-Mill organizational efforts since the 1930s. Local No. 18 refused to surrender on this point, but both the company and the union wanted to avoid a strike, so the two sides compromised and a modified union shop was the result.39 The contract was favorable to workers in terms of wages and workplace issues such as crew size, the grievance procedure, safety, and pace of work. The 1956 contract satisfied Local No. 18 rank-and-file members on bread-and-butter issues and served to warn Bunker Hill management that labor would not surrender gains achieved at considerable sacrifice. As part of his diversification initiative, Bradley oversaw plans for Bunker Hill to enter the fertilizer business. Not only would this give the company another product not directly tied to metals, but also would guarantee a market for the sulfuric acid. Toward the end of 1956 the company signed a contract with J. R. Simplot Corporation, a fertilizer firm in Pocatello, to purchase five hundred tons per month, or 80 percent of the sulfuric acid plant’s capacity. The company became the exclusive, long-term supplier to Simplot for an eleven-year term.40 Bunker Hill began a two-phase expansion project at the zinc plant that would increase production capacity by 50 percent and cost $7 million. Zinc plant enhancements acknowledged that the company’s high-quality zinc product enjoyed considerable demand.41 Smelter production would continue to be a central concern for Bunker Hill management throughout the remainder of the company’s history. Because the mine was in good shape, and there was increased demand for the company’s zinc product, the lead smelter became the problematic part of Bunker Hill production; the smelter had the smallest profit margin of any aspect of Bunker Hill operations. The smelter was the oldest Bunker Hill surface plant, and therefore, not surprisingly, was in need of updating and modernization, requiring the greatest capital investment outlined in Bunker Hill long-range plans.42 Smelter and zinc plant expansion only exacerbated air and water quality difficulties that confronted the Bunker Hill Company. News of the company’s expansion plans prompted the Kellogg City Planning

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Commission to inquire as to company efforts to control the “smoke problem.” President Bradley noted, “I wish to emphasize that the production of gas is a necessary result of the operations of our reduction plants. As we enlarge these operations, more men will be employed resulting in more business activity in Kellogg—but more gas will be produced.”43 In this statement, Bradley reprised a longtime industry argument regarding pollution and presented the area population with a difficult choice—cope with pollution or lose employment opportunities. During the 1950s the strategies that would form the backbone of Bunker Hill policies to counteract charges of environmental harm—emphasizing production and its economic benefits as a trade-off for increased pollution; pollution easements to protect company interests; using the company’s considerable economic and political clout to influence governmental entities—were in place. When it came to inside the plant, the company added twenty-four fans to the smelter round house and twenty-two new fans to the lead refinery, silver refinery, and D and L roasters designed to assist in eliminating “dangerous lead gases,” which contributed to lead poisoning cases.44 But employees continued to complain. Lead refinery employees decried “intolerable conditions of smoke,” and blast furnace workers said their health and safety were “endangered by the vast amount of smoke, gases and noxious fumes in and around their work area.”45 While the company developed strategies for counteracting environmental complaints, increased production demands fostered correlating increases in worker health concerns. All of these expansion plans reflected improved metals prices and a positive financial outlook for the company. However, in 1957 things began to change. During 1956 Bunker Hill earnings reached $3,030,000, and stockholders earned one dollar and eighty-seven cents per share, but the next year, earnings were only $1,158,000, or sixty-nine cents per share.46 According to Bradley, this decline was the result of “excessive imports.”47 Following in his father’s footsteps, he took an active role in demanding a change in government policy in the form of import quotas, claiming that the importation of foreign lead had resulted in a 20 to 25 percent decrease in demand.48 Bradley served as vice president of both the Lead Industries Association and the American Zinc Institute; he spoke not just for Bunker Hill but for the entire industry when he advocated a tariff. Bradley also called for a government subsidy and for a government purchase program for excessive lead inventories.

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According to the Bunker Hill Reporter, the zinc industry had “opened its books” to the tariff commission in an effort to prove the necessity of the tariff.49 By 1959 the “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes” radio program declared unequivocally, “There is no longer any question as to whether or not the United States metal mining industry has been adversely affected by the ineptitude of government authorities.”50 Though for the most part, the conservative Republican positions the Bunker Hill Company embraced denounced federal government intervention, in its own case, the company demanded it. With no government help forthcoming, Bunker Hill management faced a grim economic outlook.51 In the fall of 1958 Wallace Woolf indicated that Bunker Hill was losing more than $200,000 a month. Bunker Hill cut zinc plant production by 25 percent on August 1, 1958, as a result of “continuing inventory accumulation with little hope of early government action.” Smelter production was reduced by 30 percent. Company difficulties were exacerbated in October 1958 when Simplot Corporation gave twenty-one months’ notice that it would cancel its acid contract.52 Managers considered salary reductions and early retirements while also embarking on a “get tough” policy for reducing and controlling costs. Since labor costs represented the single largest expenditure, Bunker Hill asked the consulting firm of McKinsey and Company to examine company practices. Between 1955 and 1957 the number of Bunker Hill Company employees had increased by five hundred, without a corresponding increase in production. According to Bradley, labor and supply costs had risen about 100 percent, while prices had only increased about 15 percent. Consequently, the company began to instigate plans to cut the workforce and sought to eliminate overtime.53 By February 1958 Bunker Hill went to a four-day workweek.54 The economic downturn also prompted Bradley to place even more emphasis on diversification. During 1957 Bunker Hill became a 25 percentpartner in the Sherwin Williams Company’s Coffeyville, Kansas, plant that produced barium hydrate, a compound added to lubricants to improve heat resistance and detergent action. Bunker Hill would contribute its considerable metallurgical knowledge to the partnership and would work to locate domestic barite reserves for the plant.55 In another attempt to stabilize the company’s position in the metals industry, in March, Bunker Hill began to produce zinc alloys for die castings and die metals. In a similar vein, Bunker Hill added Prime Western Zinc to its product list. This involved adding up to 1.5 percent lead to the famous

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Bunker Hill special high-grade zinc; the resulting product was used for galvanizing.56 In early 1958 Bradley began to investigate the possibility of the Bunker Hill Company building its own fertilizer plant, and he eventually decided to build both the fertilizer plant and a phosphoric acid plant in Kellogg. Projected costs were $4 million, but Bradley was convinced that the fertilizer business represented a logical diversification move for the Bunker Hill Company. He believed there was demand for the product, and fertilizer production would provide a market for Bunker Hill sulfuric and phosphoric acid and would have the additional benefit of allowing the company to improve air quality in the Kellogg area.57 Bradley informed the board of directors that by the time the phosphoric acid plant construction was completed, “our acid and waste gases might become a serious problem,” and he worried that public tolerance for pollution was declining dramatically.58 The lead smelter, with a capacity of 100,000 tons, had originally been built to process Hecla and Bunker Hill ores, but by 1957 the Hecla ore supply had been exhausted, and Bunker Hill production was only about thirty thousand tons. Bunker Hill controlled Pend Oreille Mines, and the Reeves MacDonald property yielded approximately another forty thousand tons, so thirty thousand tons of lead ore were necessary for the lead smelter to run at capacity. Locating ore reserves for the smelter was of primary importance to the company and prompted Bunker Hill people to engage in a constant search for ores; during 1957 they examined 121 properties in the United States and Canada.59 The Bunker Hill Company put even greater effort and resources into locating additional ore supplies closer to Kellogg. The company had owned the Crescent silver mine since the 1920s, but in 1942 had shut down the mine due to depletion of ores and the World War II–caused manpower shortage. In 1953 the Defense Mineral Exploration Administration (DMEA) of the U.S. government issued Bunker Hill a contract for development work at the Crescent. The DMEA work and additional Bunker Hill investment paid off in June 1958, when the company was rewarded with a “good strike and an important ore discovery.”60 The company completed an eighteen-thousand-foot tunnel from the Crescent to the Kellogg surface plants, which also allowed other Big Creek producers easier access.61 Despite these initiatives, demand and prices continued to decline, and the company’s financial position deteriorated accordingly. In 1958 Wallace

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Woolf reported that company losses had reached $2 million and that metals prices were 14 percent below the 1957 levels. Management launched a concerted effort to cut labor costs, which, of course, resulted in serious confrontations with Local No. 18 members. The issue was clear.62 From the management perspective, organized labor set up roadblocks to every management attempt to reduce the cost of production.63 According to the company, labor wanted to increase restrictions on management’s “freedom to manage.”64 This was the same argument that Frederick Bradley had used during the 1890s, and the union response was also according to form. Local No. 18 was determined to hold the line against any management attempts to decrease union control over crew sizes or other shop-floor rules. For his part, Jack Bradley believed it was of paramount importance to modernize shop-floor relationships with an eye toward “efficient management, not lackadaisical family relationships.” Bradley’s attitude certainly called longterm Kellogg associations and customary work rules into question.65 The company began a publicity campaign to introduce its tougher labor policy to both hourly employees and the general public, using its radio program, “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes,” to outline the new relationship. The program put it succinctly in July 1958, when it stated, “Labor leaders are going to have to stop talking about more pay for less work.” This was the company position in a nutshell. When the Bunker Hill and Hecla held their annual joint directors luncheon in 1959, the program cover depicted the directors under two threatening rain clouds— one labeled metals market and one union demands.66 The confrontation between labor and management came to center upon the union contract that would expire on June 30, 1959, as both camps geared up for what they recognized would be a life-and-death struggle. The two sides began discussions in February and used every tool at their disposal. Perhaps the only winner in all of this was the one local radio station, Osburn’s KWAL. The company sponsored its own version of the news, aired in close proximity to the station newscasts in a poorly camouflaged company attempt to blur the lines between the two.67 The union responded with radio programs of its own. Bunker Hill management also appealed to the Kellogg business community to embrace the company position. Labor relations official James Blaisdell told the Kellogg Kiwanis that “management must be in a position of being able to manage, to meet competition, to make technological changes and to adjust its operations to obtain minimum costs.”68

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Program Cover, Bunker Hill Board of Directors Meeting, 1959. (In author’s possession.)

International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers district representative James Daugherty put the labor spin on management claims in a speech before the Kellogg Rotary when he argued, “Productivity means speed-up. Greater productivity means fewer employees.” On another occasion, the union stated that “right to manage” really meant “slave labor.”69 Local No. 18 brought an ambitious agenda to the bargaining table. The union wanted a two-year contract, arguing that the three-year contract

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management sought would too severely limit the union’s ability to strike and thus reduce any leverage it might have. Mine-Mill wanted an improved grievance procedure that would eliminate the arbitration step. Arbitration was expensive, and Local No. 18 believed that one of Bunker Hill’s strategies was to take as many grievances as possible to arbitration in an effort to deplete union funds. Labor sought an end to the ban against strikes during the term of the collective bargaining agreement, a step several unions across the country were seeking to take at the same time. As usual, workers wanted wage increases and improvements in health insurance coverage. 70 The “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes” radio program characterized the union demands as “almost unbelievable.” 71 Despite a series of direct management appeals to workers, Local No. 18 refused to back down. In keeping with Bunker Hill employees’ long history of rank-and-file militancy, miners took matters into their own hands when they walked off the job in July. The company claimed that this wildcat strike was in direct breach of the contract and refused to discuss the issue until the men went back to work. Local No. 18 argued that an assistant underground foreman had created a working environment where resentment was at a “boiling point.” An incident involving miner R. R. Smith, a veteran Local No. 18 member, touched off the dispute when, according to Smith, the assistant foreman used “abusive language and attempted to manhandle him.” This was the kind of incident that struck at the heart of miners’ self-image regarding their manliness and represented an insult that resonated with all Mine-Mill members. Even appeals from union officials could not convince the men to return to work. Although the wildcat walkout lasted only one day, it served notice that Local No. 18 members were determined to exercise their power.72 The union applied pressure on other fronts as well. Local No. 18 claimed that the Bunker Hill Company had failed to pay attention to worker health and safety, always a concern for union members. Poison fumes at the blast furnace were especially troublesome to workers. According to the union, the company had opportunities to reduce the fumes when the blast furnace was shut down for routine maintenance, but had failed to take advantage of these downtimes. The union used this to support its claims when it succinctly argued that management’s failure in this case proved that “if management is not restricted by sound contract language it will allow conditions dangerous to life and limb for the simple reason that fixing and eliminating them costs money and does not produce metal.” Mine-Mill maintained that its members had experienced a pronounced

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increase in incidents of lead poisoning since the company instigated the speed-up (or efforts to increase productivity, depending upon one’s perspective) in 1954.73 In the midst of all of this posturing and negotiations, a tragedy befell the Bunker Hill Company when Jack and Jane Bradley were killed in a Bay Area automobile accident, November 27, 1959. Their deaths shocked the Kellogg community and received considerable press coverage in the San Francisco area and the national media as well. John D. Bradley was a prominent member of the national metals community, and he was well respected in mining and metallurgy circles. At the time of his death, he was serving a second term as president of the National Lead Industries Association (NLI) and was a director of the American Zinc Institute. He was only forty-nine years old. The Bradleys were pillars of Silver Valley society and often spent summers at the Hayden Lake home they had purchased from Bing Crosby. Jack Bradley had succeeded in completely reorganizing and, to a considerable degree, redirecting the company during his five-year term as president; no one else could bring Bradley’s historical and family connections to the Bunker Hill post. Emmett Solomon became the interim head of the company, and the Bunker Hill management scrambled to regroup in the face of this disaster.74 Local No. 18 and the Bunker Hill Company continued negotiations toward a new collective bargaining agreement, and work continued under several extensions of the 1956 contract. Despite the loss of its president, the company situation was strong since it had large stocks of metal on hand and demand continued to lag; Bunker Hill was in a good position to take a strike without assuming the serious losses that better economic conditions would have created. 75 Issues remained unresolved and Local No. 18 struck the company’s Kellogg plants on May 5, 1960, idling twenty-eight hundred workers at the complex. It soon brought the cold war bugaboo of Communist influence once again to the fore. The Shoshone County Anti-Communist Association launched a publicity campaign designed to spotlight Mine-Mill’s Communist affiliations, but few people in the Silver Valley took notice until IUMMSW vice president Albert Skinner and District Seven director Chase Powers came to the Coeur d’Alenes to assist Local No. 18 in organizing the strike. Both were free on bond while appealing federal court convictions on charges of filing false non-Communist affidavits under the Taft-Hartley requirement. The two men became the focal point for local anti-Communists.76

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“Could This Be a Coincidence?” Shoshone County Anti-Communist Association advertisement comparing Mine-Mill preamble and Communist Manifesto. (Kellogg Evening News, September 7, 1960, p.1.)

In response to Skinner’s and Powers’s presence, and most certainly due to the encouragement of Anti-Communist Association members and teachers, Kellogg High School students formed the “I Am An American Youth” organization. The group’s policy statement indicated that it was not antiunion and did not intend to take sides in the strike, but did intend

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to work to “remove the communistic influence that has infiltrated local organizations and to bring the seriousness of this situation to the attention of the entire public.” This declaration illuminated a key element of the ensuing campaign: the idea that Communist influence at the international level of Mine-Mill posed a threat to local interests and foisted outsiders’ ideas upon the local community.77 The youth organization decided to sponsor an anti-Communist parade on May 26. Various community groups, such as the American Legion, Kellogg Elks Lodge No. 1841, the Shoshone County Republican Central Committee, and the Eastern Star, passed resolutions of support. Pastor Vernon Vork, president of the Shoshone County Ministerial Association, urged prayers for “the preservation of the American way of life against enemies who would rob us of our freedom.”78 Between three and four thousand people attended the parade (Kellogg’s population was approximately six thousand); about half of the school’s five hundred students participated. Mine-Mill officials urged union members to keep their children at home. The parade conveyed a decidedly pro-American image, with an abundant display of patriotic symbols and an emphasis on the theme of local control of the labor situation. Banners proclaimed, “Pro-labor, Pro-Union, and Anti-Communist,” and, “Let Our Dads Decide Without Communist Pressure.”79 James Daugherty reminded the community that union members wanted their children to be taught Americanism, but that school leaders had organized the parade as an antiunion tactic. He claimed, “We are fearful that it will develop into strife and riots among school children. Our children will not stand by and hear their fathers called communists.”80 In a more urban setting, the children of mine officials and those of workers would probably have attended different schools, but Kellogg High School was the only one in town, so no students could avoid this confrontation. A week after the parade, on June 5, a new group entered the picture, the Shoshone County Commonsense Council. President Robert Robson, Kellogg City attorney, stated, “Our purpose is to bring to the attention of the entire public facts that speak for themselves under the critical light of commonsense.”81 The council claimed to speak for college students, professional people, local school students, businessmen, workers not connected with mining, retired people, and plain citizens. The Commonsense radio broadcasts often warned of Communism’s perils, pointed out that Mine-Mill leadership “has consistently followed the Communist Party line through the years and during this strike,” and

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intimated that Mine-Mill had duped the strikers. The council brought the specter of class animosity into the situation; one council broadcast claimed that “Mine-Mill management, beyond a doubt, is the most class conscious group in our community” and warned union members that Mine-Mill represented “the seed of your own destruction, the destruction of your wife and your children and all you hold worthwhile.”82 The Commonsense Council sought to emphasize the detrimental impact of class hostility on Kellogg as a community. According to the council, Mine-Mill’s talk of class jeopardized longstanding societal and familial relationships. As was true of all the groups, women played a vital role in the Commonsense Council, and advertising solicited women’s support. One advertisement in the Kellogg Evening News reproduced a letter signed, “Just a Striker’s Wife,” complaining that there was no money for school clothes or winter supplies. The writer asked, “What are we, as wives of these strikers and Mine-Mill Slaves going to tell our children? We had no voice in this matter. . . . Our feelings don’t count.” Thus the Commonsense Council called into question the actual necessity of the strike action and concentrated on the hardships the strike placed upon union families.83 Mine-Mill continued to pressure the company on several fronts. Union radio broadcasts exclaimed over “how much our children’s throats clear up each day they do without smelter smoke.” Union members claimed that they were able to get suntans since fumes were not blocking the rays.84 These statements reflect a position that militant union members had voiced since the 1930s—denouncing the company’s environmental record. In embracing this strategy, Bunker Hill workers established a precedent that unions continue to follow in many instances, attempting to place the company in a negative light in terms of environmental impact as part of a strategy designed to sway public opinion toward the union position, while emphasizing the role of union members as Kellogg citizens. The strike was divisive for the entire Kellogg community in a number of ways. When the 1960 school year got underway in September, the Kellogg School District announced that there would be no school hot lunches since the district could not afford to provide lunches for students unable to pay. Mine-Mill was convinced that depriving union children of school lunches was simply another form of company intimidation. Local No. 65 Auxiliary members Violet Walker and Helen Piekarski appeared before the school board and asked them to investigate, and James Daugherty traveled to Boise to urge the Idaho attorney general,

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Frank Benson, to look into the Kellogg situation. Many people, including the Idaho Citizens Relief Committee, contributed to a fund to pay for lunches.85 Finally, the Kellogg School District restored the lunch program toward the end of November. Over 650 workers attended an October 10 mass meeting and called upon Republican Idaho governor Robert Smylie to intervene and send surplus foodstuffs to Kellogg. The governor responded with both direct assistance and monetary aid. Despite considerable criticism, Governor Smylie maintained that “this is a human problem which deserved and received a humanitarian solution.”86 At a special session, members of the Kellogg Chamber of Commerce gave unanimous support to a resolution denouncing the governor’s decision that qualified strikers’ families receive public assistance. Robert Robson and the president of the chamber flew to Boise to deliver the resolution in person.87 The governor received letters warning him that he was acting as a tool of the Communists, and Robson told the Kellogg Rotary, “For five months we have been trying to break the back of the Mine-Mill Union and remove this cancer from our community,” and now the governor’s action has played “into the hands” of the union.88 These charges and the longstanding Bunker Hill pro-Republican position did not change Smylie’s mind. Democratic Idaho senator Frank Church and Representative Gracie Pfost (D) intervened on the strikers’ behalf as well. According to Mine-Mill, this was all part of the Mohawk Valley Formula, an approach first used in the early days of the CIO wherein the companies used the Communist issue to defeat the union. However, it was also a longtime Bunker Hill strategy dating back to the 1890s.89 For its part, the union was not above name-calling and other similar tactics. According to the Commonsense Council, a Mine-Mill flyer called Shoshone County Anti-Communist Association and council members “big mouths,” “idiots,” “small brains,” “misfits,” “outcasts,” “liars,” and “just plain small.”90 Soon a rival union challenged Local No. 18. Mine-Mill claimed that the Northwest Metal Workers Union was simply a front for the company and those who wanted to break the strike. NWMW members insisted that they were good union men who were simply opposed to Communism and were dedicated to rescuing their union from Communist infiltration. Both the Commonsense Council and the Shoshone County Anti-Communist Association aided the NWMW through contributions and the recruiting of members. Robert Robson acted as the NWMW

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attorney and kept the signed “blue” membership cards under lock and key to protect new members from Mine-Mill recriminations.91 NWMW’s origins remain clouded, but longtime anti-Communist Eddie Adams and Leland Alkire, Murrin Huff, Merlin Wood, and Ernie Tregoning approached attorney Robson, seeking his help in ousting Mine-Mill. Robson supplied the fledgling group with a list of the names and addresses of all Bunker Hill employees for use in soliciting support.92 The Northwest Metal Workers obtained the required signatures to force a National Labor Relations Board election to determine which labor organization would represent Bunker Hill workers.93 The vote was scheduled for December 10, 1960, and the election campaign was a bitter one. Animosity increased when the Bunker Hill Company, arguing that Mine-Mill’s representation was uncertain, left the bargaining table and thus ensured that the strike could not be settled until after the election. The Northwest Metal Workers Union campaign had two major themes. First, the union concentrated on the Communist issue. The NLRB ballots listed the three choices from left to right: Mine-Mill, No Union, and Northwest Metal Workers. Metal Workers advertisements urged workers to vote right—meaning both correctly and ideologically (against Communism). The second theme was the length of the strike and the approach of the Christmas season. The Northwest Metal Workers adopted the slogan “Back to Work by Christmas.” Metal Workers’ recruiting efforts echoed these themes; the only requirement for NWMW membership was that a man sign a blue card indicating his “dislike for communism and the Bunker Hill strike.”94 Eventually, the Commonsense Council withdrew in favor of the Northwest Metal Workers Union.95 As the election drew closer, both sides concentrated more attention on references to home and family, and appeals featuring women and children were central to the campaigns of both Mine-Mill and the Northwest Metal Workers Union. The Metal Workers bought a number of ads that emphasized the detrimental effects the strike was having on family relationships. Tempers were hot in both camps. In November, Leland Alkire was arrested for carrying a gun at the Union Legion Hall and voicing threats against Mine-Mill officials. According to some accounts, as he left his home, Alkire told his wife, “I’m going to kill Daugherty right in his own meeting. I’ve primed up all day for this.” She called the police, who arrested the Northwest Metal Workers official.96

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Advertisement urging end to 1960 strike, Back to Work by Christmas Committee. (Eddie Adams, chair, was also president of Northwest Metalworkers Union.) (Kellogg Evening News, December 5, 1960.)

Despite Mine-Mill’s constant denials, the Communist issue refused to disappear and, in fact, continued to make headlines. Several area ministers spoke out against Mine-Mill. One proclaimed, “I would consider it a victory for Communism if Mine-Mill wins the election”; another called the election a “decision between Americanism or Marxist Communism, between Christians and the anti-Christ.” Yet another warned of a Satanic plot.97 Needless to say, these attacks from religious leaders

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were disturbing to Mine-Mill members, who also belonged to the various churches. Northwest Metal Workers won the election by a vote of 672 to 621. (Only eight men voted against participation in a labor organization.) The strike had lasted over seven months, making it the longest strike in Bunker Hill history. All of the parties involved agreed that the issue of Communism had been a crucial one.98 Having won the certification election, the Metal Workers confronted the considerable challenge of settling the strike and forming a labor organization capable of representing the eighteen hundred Bunker Hill workers, almost half of whom were less than wholehearted in their support. On December 21, 1960, the Northwest Metal Workers signed a five-year contract with the Bunker Hill Company, and the company provided workers with a one hundred dollar advance on pay for Christmas.99 The vote to accept the contract was 248 to 2, and both the Northwest Metal Workers Union and the Bunker Hill Company presented the contract as a victory for workers. In announcing the settlement, company president Charles E. Schwab warned, “In making this economic proposal I wish to emphasize we are taking a gamble with you, conditioned upon the fact that we must improve the production from our plant. All we ask is a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. Such has not always been the case in the past.”100 Attorney Robert Robson spoke for the union and promised, “I pledge to you [that] the leadership of our union will bend every effort toward achieving the goals you have outlined. You have been both fair and generous.” As Robson’s statement suggests, the Metal Workers clearly approached labor-management relations differently than Mine-Mill.101 The difference between the two labor organizations was further marked when the Kellogg Chamber of Commerce voted to extend a membership to the NWMW so that the two groups could “cooperate for the betterment of the community.”102 President Schwab exalted that management and employees could “look forward to a period of harmonious industrial relations enhanced to a degree heretofore thought unattainable.”103 If Bunker Hill officials thought that their labor problems were at an end, they were mistaken. In January 1961 Northwest Metal Workers began to advertise that they were accepting applications for membership. The ads stated that men not employed in a supervisory capacity, “of good moral character,” and “not a member or consistent supporter of, or active participant in the Communist Party or other subversive

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organizations which oppose the democratic principles to which our nation and our Union are dedicated” were eligible to apply for membership.104 These requirements soon led to controversy. Northwest Metal Workers denied membership to twenty-five individuals on the grounds that they did not meet the criteria. The list included former Mine-Mill Local No. 18 president Paul Maness, former officers and members of Mine-Mill’s negotiating committee Peter Piekarski and Elwin Shultz, and some shop stewards—in other words, Mine-Mill’s most vocal and active members.105 The men denied membership became a cadre of opposition to the Northwest Metal Workers Union, initially as an informal group nicknamed the “Reject Club,” but then more formally as the Committee to Oppose Company Unionism, and later as the Committee for United Trade Union Activity.106 Within months of the election, the Rejects circulated flyers labeling Northwest as a “boss kissing imitation union puppet of the Chamber of Commerce” and began a concerted effort to replace Northwest Metal Workers.107 Neither did the Bunker Hill Company achieve the hoped-for labor peace. By 1962 Mine-Mill and Steelworkers began decertification movements. While the NLRB delayed elections for a year, this decision only prolonged the campaign, as all three unions continued their charges and countercharges.108 The eventual election results reflected a decided division among workers. Of 1,573 eligible voters, 415 voted for Mine-Mill; 254 voted for the Steelworkers, and 688 voted for Northwest Metal Workers. There were nine votes against any labor union, five voided ballots, and forty-two “challenged” ballots.109 In the end, the Northwest Metal Workers Union was recertified as the Bunker Hill bargaining agent on May 25, 1964, and signed a new three-year agreement with the company a few months later.110 Having temporarily resolved their labor problem, Bunker Hill officials again turned to issues of diversification and expansion that had in fact been ongoing during the strike. A real turning point in Bunker Hill history came in September 1960, when the company announced an agreement with National Lead Company, whereby National Lead would purchase Bunker Hill’s primary lead and its special high-grade zinc and cadmium. This assured Bunker Hill of an outlet for its refined metals and would guarantee that the company would no longer have to confront the prospect of large unsold inventories.111 This was a goal that had eluded Bunker Hill executives throughout the company’s history.

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The Bunker Hill Company’s sulfuric acid plant, constructed at a cost of $2 million, had been completed in June 1960. According to the company, the plant featured “the most modern equipment available” and promised to be “clean, safe, and efficient.”112 It, of course, could not begin operation during the strike, but was put on line in January 1961. The company continued to search for new ore supplies. In late 1961 company officials leased the Morning Mine, an American Smelting and Refining Company property that was adjacent to the Star Mine.113 Management also experienced a transition when Stanly Easton died, on December 18, 1961. For more than fifty years his name had been associated with the Bunker Hill Company, and his mining expertise was recognized throughout the country. While scholars hesitate to place too much emphasis on one individual’s impact on the development of a company, much less a community, Stanly Easton’s place in the Kellogg psyche remains synonymous with the “good old days.” The next year the company announced that it would move its corporate headquarters from San Francisco to Kellogg, leaving only a four-man research and development staff at 660 Market Street in San Francisco. Since Jack Bradley was out of the picture, it no longer made sense to maintain a large presence in California.114 With a new collective bargaining agreement in place and a more malleable labor union, Bunker Hill determined to continue to strive for maximum efficiency. It was easy to see the impact of this strategy in smelter productivity statistics. Following the strike, the man hours required to produce a ton of lead dropped by about one and a quarter hours. A similar decline in the cost of operating labor per ton of lead was achieved: costs dropped from sixteen dollars and ninety-eight cents in 1959 to eleven dollars and seventy-two cents as the cost of operating labor per ton of lead produced in April 1961.115 Old MineMill members claimed that the contract opened the way for even more speed-up, with no one in a position to offer any challenge. According to the Rejects, between 1959 and 1961 Bunker Hill metal output increased by 27,817 tons of lead and 979,057 ounces of silver, all with 539 fewer workers. Northwest Metal Workers responded, “Any man working at the Bunker Hill properties knows that the so-called speed-up is pure hogwash. It is true that some men actually have to be on the job, possibly a little longer than in previous years. In most cases this happened with ex-featherbedded friends of Mine-Mill.”116

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Another troublesome result, in the militants’ view, was that the speed-up resulted in more workers “poisoned by toxic lead.” According to the Rejects, of twenty-three smelter workers in one department, eighteen showed elevated lead levels, and the situation was indicative of lead contamination throughout the facility. Workers argued for a relief man on all shifts so that workers could take a break from dust and fumes.117 In response to cases of lead poisoning, or plumbism, workers in close proximity to lead dust or fumes were required to wear respirators. All workers were to undergo regular urinalysis tests for lead and when the tests showed elevated lead levels, the worker was transferred to another company job.118 The company did post improvement in the area of lead poisoning, the result, according to Bunker Hill officials, of better dust and fume collection, better company housekeeping, improved personal hygiene on the part of workers, and the controlled use of protective equipment. Days lost to plumbism were decreased from 757 in 1961 to twenty-three by 1964.119 The Committee for United Trade Union Activity also sought to draw attention to Bunker Hill’s lead problem. In 1961 committee members wrote a letter to Idaho governor Robert E. Smylie demanding an investigation of the lead problem in Kellogg and stating that both employees and the general population were in jeopardy.120 State mine inspector George Fletcher responded, “We know the dangers of lead poisoning and these are no greater than they have ever been.” Although some mine employees recalled keeping houses closed in summer to avoid the fumes and taking their children out of the valley on the worst smoke days, most Kellogg residents believed there was nothing new to investigate. However, the considerable press coverage the letter received marked the beginning of increased media attention. To combat this, the Bunker Hill Company soon began placing advertisements in various publications proclaiming the company’s efforts at improving the environment, and the company strove to project an image of environmental awareness. Despite these steps, Bunker Hill managers realized the seriousness of the situation. A. Y. Bethune, manager of metallurgy, reported to the board of directors in 1961 that the Bunker Hill plants were growing older at the same time the company was attempting to increase production, and the public was “becoming more and more aware of and critical of, our physical operation. No matter how we may think or whatever the facts may dictate, we are in for a harder and harder fight to control dust and fume.”121

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Bethune’s statement was prescient. Public awareness of environmental issues grew, and the Bunker Hill Company stepped up expenditures for pollution control; during the 1960s expenditures reached $8 million. Even this large amount would appear small in light of later developments. The company worked hard to establish a reputation as a model corporate citizen willing to expend extra effort in order to improve the Kellogg environment.122 Bunker Hill’s economic situation did improve. In the first place, the big losses the company incurred in the strike year, 1960, allowed it to pay no income taxes in 1962 or 1963. And though the company reported a $l.25 million dollar debt following the strike, it was debt free by October 1963. In fact, in November 1963 the company paid a fifty-cent-per-share dividend, the first since a five-cent dividend in 1958. By 1964 the Bunker Hill Company enjoyed a revived metals economy and improved profits.123 The company listed its assets at $55.8 million, although many analysts estimated them as being closer to $60 million. This turnaround was in no small part due to payoffs from the massive mechanization that had allowed the company to cut $1 million from its payroll, reducing it to $12 million a year.124 In the wake of these positive financial developments, the Bunker Hill Company began to explore the possibility of appearing on the New York Stock Exchange.125 Charles Schwab purchased the first one hundred shares of Bunker Hill stock on July 26, 1965; the initial offering involved l,590,000 shares, and the opening price was twenty-five and a half.126 Management called this a “milestone in the history of the company.”127 There was such great demand for Bunker Hill zinc production that during this period the company contemplated a massive zinc plant expansion. Bunker Hill technicians worked to devise a plan to mechanize the labor-intensive cell room, particularly stripping.128 During 1966 Bunker Hill announced that it would spend $13 million on zinc plant projects, the largest expansion in Bunker Hill history, but necessary to meet increased demand for zinc metal and sulfuric acid.129 Charles Schwab informed the Kellogg Chamber of Commerce on February 16, 1967, that he was pleased to make an announcement he had “looked forward to making for many years”—that the “long hoped for elimination of smelter smoke from our operations will become a reality by late 1968 or early 1969.” The company would expand its sulfuric acid production with a $3 million capital program that would increase the strength of Bunker Hill sulfur dioxide from 1 percent to 7 percent and

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Bunker Hill zinc plant, 1968. (MG367-2425-28, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

would also triple storage capacities in the event that markets were not available.130 The company was able to ensure some degree of ore supply through terrific and extensive discoveries in the Crescent.131 Bunker Hill won its bid against ASARCO’s East Helena smelter for Hecla’s Lucky Friday ore from August 1966 to August 1971.132 Bunker Hill also made production from its own mine much more efficient. The bulk mining method and mine pillar stoping allowed the company to mine low-grade ore that was previously unprofitable.133 At the same time, the company was able to decrease manpower in the mine by 30 percent between the last quarter of 1965 and the last quarter of 1966 while increasing the tons per stoping shift by 57 percent.134 The 1966 net earnings per share were the highest in sixteen years.135

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Although the improved economy was good for Bunker Hill’s economic success, in one area the company had a poor track record—attempting to locate and develop mining properties outside of Idaho’s Silver Valley. On May 24, 1964, Bunker Hill entered into a formal agreement with National Lead to develop the Higdon property near Fredericktown, about one hundred miles south of St. Louis, Missouri. Development would require sinking a shaft almost fifteen hundred feet deep and constructing a mill and auxiliary surface plants. The project would cost about $4 million over a three-year period, but Bunker Hill executives hoped it would guarantee a ten-year ore reserve that was vital to the profitable operation of the Kellogg plants.136 The Higdon was scheduled to begin operation in 1968, but after three and a half years of work at a cost of over $3.5 million, Bunker Hill officials decided to mothball the project.137 By April 7, 1966, Bunker Hill stock had increased to thirty-two and five eighths. No one was exactly certain why, but Merill Lynch stockbrokers attributed the rise to the potential investors saw in the Crescent mine. By April 19, 1966, Bunker Hill stock was selling at forty-two.138 Charles Schwab told Bunker Hill stockholders at the annual meeting that he had no clue who was buying the company’s stock, and added, “The sustained buying interest in Bunker Hill has surprised many market observers.”139 Soon, the Bunker Hill board of directors received merger offers from several companies, but voted to decline them.140 The New York Times reported that Bunker Hill was the subject of a takeover attempt in July.141 By December, Charles Schwab wrote to stockholders that Texas-based Gulf Resources & Chemical Corporation had made a sudden move to gain control of the company and was offering fiftysix dollars a share for 700,000 shares. Schwab urged stockholders not to sell and noted, “Not one member of your Board of Directors or your management will tender his shares.”142 Charles Schwab and the Bunker Hill board of directors were determined to fight the Gulf takeover attempt.143 On December 18, 1967, Schwab announced that Bunker Hill had agreed in principle to a merger with Homestake Mining.144 These plans were abandoned in favor of trying to broker a merger with Utah Construction Company of San Francisco, which had $148.3 million in revenue during 1966, compared to $76 million for the Bunker Hill Company.145 Gulf President Robert Allen admitted that he had “underestimated the corporate muscle” that Charles Schwab could throw into the battle.146 Charles Schwab let down his guard too soon. On January 11, 1968, Gulf renewed its offer, and, by January 29, changing stock market conditions

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had led Utah Construction to withdraw from merger talks. By the end of the month, Bunker Hill was the most active stock on the New York Stock Exchange.147 Schwab recalled that at that point it “became my responsibility to pick up the phone and call Mr. Allen, president of Gulf Resources and Chemical Corporation, not the easiest thing I’ve done in my life.”148 On February 3, Gulf Resources & Chemical announced that it had purchased 535,000 shares at sixty dollars.149 Charles Schwab addressed the community on February 14 in a special radio broadcast on KWAL. He reviewed events in which he and the Bunker Hill management had fought Gulf’s hostile takeover attempts for two months until Gulf backed off. Then, according to Schwab, Gulf had “suddenly swooped into the open market and bought 540,000 shares of Bunker Hill.” Schwab admitted that his reception of Allen when he came to Kellogg in December was anything but cordial; however, he had relaxed too soon.150 Gulf was not listed on the New York Stock Exchange, was a much smaller company, and was interested in diversification. Gulf’s revenues during 1967 were $22.9 million, compared to Bunker Hill’s $83.6.151 New York bankers lent Gulf the money to purchase the Bunker Hill stock because security analysts were convinced that Gulf’s management team was first-rate.152 Charles Schwab was correct when he wrote in the Reporter, “To determine why Bunker Hill suddenly became a target for merger or acquisition, all you have to do is examine our record over the last six years. What happened is the penalty of success—success to which all of our employees have contributed so much.”153 The Bunker Hill board of directors remained less than enthusiastic about the takeover, for obvious reasons. Director Ira Jorelman was particularly concerned about political uncertainties that could threaten Gulf’s holdings in Mexico. Charles Schwab urged a secret ballot on the merger question so that members of the board of directors would feel free to vote their own convictions; the directors voted against the merger by a four-to-three tally. When Charles Schwab informed Robert Allen, he indicated that if the directors did not reconsider, Gulf would instigate a proxy battle. Schwab prevailed upon the directors to reconvene. Although several directors continued to have serious reservations, they had no choice and approved the merger.154 The Bunker Hill directors did convince Robert Allen to agree that Gulf would vote its shares in favor of the merger only if a majority of the stockholders besides Gulf did so. At Bunker Hill’s annual stockholders’ meeting, May 28, 1968, the stockholders approved the merger, ending eighty-one years of Bunker

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Cover of Gulf Resources & Chemical Corporation annual report, 1968. (MG367-2496, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

Hill as an independent company. Stockholders got one share of Gulf preferred stock and .76 of a share of Gulf for each share of Bunker Hill Stock. In addition, they were to receive a dividend of approximately twenty-five cents a share if the merger was completed by May 31.155 Bunker Hill was removed from the New York Stock Exchange listings and replaced with Gulf Resources Corporation.156 Following the stockholder vote, Charles Schwab announced he was resigning his position. He had been with Bunker Hill since 1944 and had

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presided over a period of tremendous expansion and development, but he was shell-shocked by the Gulf takeover. Schwab noted, “As chief executive officer I was caught in, or found myself involved in, a series of situations which, while quite commonplace today, were most difficult.” He became director of North American Mining Operations for the Anaconda Corporation.157 A decisive period in Bunker Hill Company history had ended as the company assumed its new position as a wholly-owned subsidiary of Gulf Resources & Chemical. For the first time, Bunker Hill would be completely in the hands of people with no local connections. Perhaps the tremendous success Bunker Hill had experienced during the 1960s had laid the foundation for the takeover. The historian is left to ponder whether or not John D. Bradley would have been able to prevent the takeover from happening. At any rate, things would never be the same for the company, its employees, the Kellogg community, and even the state of Idaho.

CHAPTER 6

Texas Takes Over The Gulf Resources Years, 1968–1981

Though a cliché, it is nonetheless true that things were never the same for the Kellogg community or the Bunker Hill Company following the Gulf Resources hostile takeover. The Kellogg operations became one part of a larger organization, and corporate considerations took precedence over Bunker Hill wishes. This is not to say that Bunker Hill received no benefits from the arrangement; the transition, however, was a difficult one, and it had an impact on not just the company but certainly the Kellogg community and the entire state of Idaho. While they endeavored to become accustomed to the new corporate realities, Bunker Hill managers also confronted serious challenges. The company serves as a microcosm for heavy industry in the United States during the 1970s and 1980s. Competition increased, governmental regulations, particularly in the area of the environment, mushroomed, and the Bunker Hill people struggled to update aging plants. Labor placed demands on the company in terms of wages, working conditions, and health and safety issues. In the final analysis, a variety of forces combined to defeat Bunker Hill’s efforts. In 1981 the Bunker Hill Company closed the doors of all operations in Kellogg, ending almost one hundred years of heavy metal production. A seminal Idaho story ended in an array of blame and recriminations, but mostly in disbelief. Over twenty years later, the ramifications of the situation continue to challenge area residents. In the wake of the Gulf takeover, managerial and operational changes were necessary.1 Although Gulf attempted to keep these to a minimum, there were shake-ups in the managerial ranks, and Gulf sent some of its

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own people to Kellogg to “provide for more effective control of operations.”2 Clearly, Gulf believed that Bunker Hill operations required greater control and better management. Gulf tried to assure Bunker Hill people that their company would continue to grow and prosper, but the entire process was certainly unsettling. With the acquisition of Bunker Hill, the Gulf group included seven subsidiaries, all widely scattered geographically and only tangentially related in terms of their functions. For the first time, Bunker Hill people had to justify their actions to managers unfamiliar with the situation in Kellogg.3 Soon it was evident that the takeover would put new pressures on Bunker Hill. By the end of 1968 Gulf asked Bunker Hill people to trim their capital budget, first from $5.2 million to $3.7 million, and then to $3 million—approximately a 40 percent cut.4 The bottom line was that Gulf had spent a lot of money getting the Bunker Hill Company, and the corporation required a return on its investment. Gulf also needed to make sure its profits were good so that its stock would be attractive to investors and the corporation could make additional acquisitions. In short, the Gulf goal for 1969 was “RESTORE and maintain strong investor interest in GRC by steadily increasing earnings.”5 This pressure for enhanced performance was increased due to a situation Bunker Hill had predicted during the takeover—Gulf’s investment in Mexico sulfur was not secure, and in fact, the Mexican government was taking it over. Such a takeover represented a huge potential loss, and Bunker Hill was needed to keep investors convinced Gulf was a good risk.6 A Bunker Hill communiqué warned, “Bunker Hill management personnel may have reservations about what they will have to do to improve the profit picture right now, but this is immaterial considering the realities of the situation facing the company.” If this did not happen, Robert Allen would be in an “unfavorable position with his directors and stockholders,” and “all the key Bunker Hill staff members may be assured that they will precede Mr. Allen into the unfavorable position.”7 The message was obvious: Bunker Hill needed to make up for losses that it had nothing to do with, and it needed to do so in any way possible, even if company officials did not like it—Bunker Hill people’s jobs were on the line. Bunker Hill’s success was crucial to Gulf’s success, as Gulf’s consolidated financial statement, dated December 31, 1969, and marked “confidential, “ made clear.

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SALES Lead, zinc silver $95, 297,528 Lithium $10, 443,140 Coal $ 7,943, 2148 So it is evident that although Gulf had taken over the Bunker Hill Company, Bunker Hill was the vital portion of the Gulf profit picture.9 At the end of 1969 Gulf was able to announce a big dividend of thirty-two and a half cents per share, and in the early part of 1970, profits continued to be “up sharply.”10 Everything seemed to be going according to Robert Allen’s plan. However, the Bunker Hill financial situation deteriorated much more quickly than anyone at Gulf or Bunker Hill had predicted when a variety of forces combined to create difficulties. In January 1969 unusually cold weather (36 degrees below zero), froze water lines, and neither the blast furnace nor the fuming plant could operate.11 The Mexican takeover of Gulf holdings went much faster than Gulf executives had foreseen. The members of the Bunker Hill board of directors who had expressed serious reservations about this aspect of Gulf had been absolutely correct in their assessment. That vindication was small compensation when Gulf had to write off $12.7 million on its Mexican sulfur investments, which, prior to the Bunker Hill takeover, had been one of the key Gulf holdings.12 As would be the case for many American firms, Gulf found itself victim of the vagaries of the global economy. At about the same time, initial moves away from lead as an additive in gasoline were made. While the Lead Industries Association claimed that there was no proof of harm and no evidence of benefits, the possibility that this Bunker Hill market would dry up rocked Kellogg.13 In March 1970 Robert Allen announced that Frank G. Woodruff had been elected vice president and director of Gulf and president of its subsidiary, the Bunker Hill Company, replacing William Hewitt, who resigned for personal reasons. Between June and December 1970 Bunker Hill reduced the number of employees on the payroll from 2,080 to nineteen hundred—a move Woodruff believed was the right direction, but only an initial step.14 A surprising decline in the price of silver (a thirty-two-cent drop between January and October 1971) exacerbated the company’s financial difficulties.15 Cadmium and antimony prices were also depressed.16

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Bunker Hill’s administrative structure “was substantially reorganized.” Key executive personnel were replaced, including the hiring of James H. Halley to succeed Robert L. Haffner, on August 15, 1971. (Haffner’s father, J. B. Haffner, had served as president and member of the Bunker Hill board of directors from 1940 until 1955.) The Bunker Hill administrative offices were moved back to Kellogg for the final time (Gulf had established offices in Spokane) in an effort to consolidate management functions.17 All of these changes failed to stem the tide of the economic downturn as Bunker Hill reported losses of $4.563 million in 1970 and $3.85 million in 1971—a significant change in company fortunes. This crisis was not unique to Bunker Hill—the entire metals industry confronted similar situations, and several plant closures ensued. In August 1970 ASARCO announced it would close the Selby and Tacoma smelters; in February 1971 American Zinc closed its East St. Louis and Dumas, Texas, plants. In all, five U.S. zinc smelters and two lead smelters closed in 1970–71; by 1972 total lead smelting capacity in the United States had decreased by 18 percent, and zinc smelting capacity was down by 40 percent. Bunker Hill remained one of the few custom zinc and lead smelters in the country.18 The company denied rumors published in the (Boise) Idaho Daily Statesman that its own shutdown was imminent, but the specter of a Kellogg closure was a recurring theme of the 1970s.19 Frank Woodruff told the Kellogg Chamber of Commerce that Bunker Hill’s problems were “production, prices, and pollution,” and this was an accurate assessment.20 To counteract these pressures and to further its goal of increased profits and more efficient operation, Gulf instituted a number of policies. Although many of these continued along the lines that Jack Bradley had established, Gulf applied a more Draconian approach (as least in the view of Kellogg employees). Expansion of production capacity and improved plant productivity continued to be priorities. Work on the $2.5 million updraft sintering plant announced July 23, 1968, went forward and was completed in early 1970. The new Lurgi machines would handle ore three times faster than the old Dwight Lloyd equipment, and the Lurgi allowed for the construction of a $3.5 million sulfuric acid plant at the lead smelter to complement the one at the zinc plant. Bunker Hill entered into a joint venture with Stauffer Chemical to utilize the acid in fertilizer production.21 The main reason the Gulf board of directors approved the sulfuric acid plant construction was that it would reduce emissions from the

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sintering process; environmental matters were moving to center stage for the Kellogg operations.22 It was not as if Bunker Hill people had ignored this issue, since, during the 1960s, expenditures for pollution control totaled $8 million, and the company had launched an advertising campaign highlighting “Our Clean Air Program” and “Our Clean Water Program.” These efforts paid off when the Idaho Board of Health and the Pacific Northwest Pollution Control Association both presented awards to Bunker Hill in recognition of its pollution abatement initiatives.23 The company hired two “air pollution control specialists” as well.24 By November 1969 Personnel Director Ray Chapman was able to promise visiting state lawmakers and the North Idaho Chamber of Commerce, “I can tell you factually and truthfully that by 1971, the bulk of environmental problems in the Kellogg area attributed to Bunker Hill operations will be but a distasteful memory.”25 In 1970 the U.S. Congress established the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA).26 Bunker Hill officials quickly recognized that big producers would be the first target for OSHA inspectors.27 One Bunker Hill manager claimed that it would take fifteen men at least two years to accomplish the cleanup required at the smelter to meet the new OSHA standards.28 United Steelworkers viewed OSHA as an ally and was quick to turn to the new entity with complaints that workers were “exposed to conditions which are hazardous to their health.”29 Congress also enacted the Clean Air Act and the Water Quality Improvement Act, and established the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in 1970. These developments also had an impact on Bunker Hill and created more bureaucratic oversight for the company. State bureaucracies likewise took an interest, and various Idaho regulatory agencies began to direct more attention to Bunker Hill. A report from the Department of Highways showing that bridges and other metal corroded much faster in Kellogg than elsewhere in the state spurred state officials to channel even more effort into the Bunker Hill investigation.30 A State Department of Health and Welfare letter to the company in June 1971 indicated that higher lead levels were measured in Kellogg than near an ASARCO plant in El Paso, Texas, that had been the subject of national attention.31 Consequently, the Department of Health and Welfare launched studies of lead in the air, vegetation, and soil, and implemented a screening program for residents. Bunker Hill public pronouncements denied any analogy with the El Paso scenario, but privately company officials were sufficiently worried to ask local

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Special citation from the Board of Health of the State of Idaho to Bunker Hill for exemplary pollution control efforts, November 14, 1969. (MG367-2386-38-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

physician Dr. Ronald K. Panke to conduct tests on area children. The results of these urinalyses indicated no elevated lead levels, and the children’s parents were not informed that the tests had been done, an indication of Bunker Hill’s considerable influence in the Kellogg community.32 The company initially responded positively to this new atmosphere and expressed optimism regarding Bunker Hill abilities to solve pollution problems. Plant manager Gene Baker assured the Idaho Air Pollution Control Commission that Bunker Hill was reducing pollution by 50 percent.33 However, the company was forced to delay the start-up of its new sulfuric acid plant when it could not market the acid; President Frank G. Woodruff wrote a letter to company employees explaining the situation and asking for patience in obtaining air quality improvements.34 The company also sought an Idaho Air Pollution Control Commission

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variance from state sulfuric acid (SO2) requirements and constructed a forty thousand-dollar weather station designed to monitor atmosphere conditions and SO2 levels with an eye toward matching operational activities with weather and SO2 conditions.35 Despite these actions, some local residents continued to voice their complaints regarding pollution.36 Even when the new sulfuric acid plant finally opened in August, problems continued to plague company officials. By October, the state filed a complaint against Bunker Hill for “not achieving the highest and best practical treatment control.”37 The company embarked on a strategy of pitting state environmental agencies against the EPA. Federal law required states to develop State Implementation Plans (SIPs) that met federal air quality standards. Idaho’s proposed SIP mandated 72 percent retention of SO2. In May 1972 the EPA disapproved the state plan and substituted its own 82 percent retention requirement. After hearing testimony, the state adopted its SIP as a formal regulation, and the EPA took the matter under advisement.38 Following a public hearing on water quality, Bunker Hill invested in a new wastewater treatment plant that cost $1 million to construct and $702,000 a year to operate, but allowed the company proudly to announce an end to water quality problems.39 It was evident throughout the mining industry that pollution control issues were going to become increasingly important. At the same time, there was a general recognition that governmental regulation would only become more comprehensive.40 In response, the company sought to publicize its pollution control effort. Frank Woodruff noted in a presidential message, “One of the areas where I need your support is in telling our side of the environmental story.”41 Bunker Hill’s confidential capital budget request for 1973 included seventy thousand dollars for “major changes” in the smelter sinter plant. According to the rationale, since 1972, “the plant has been pushed to achieve maximum output,” and as a result, problems had increased “exponentially”; men sometimes refused to enter the plant due to dust and fumes, and worker morale was suffering.42 Bunker Hill’s public face did not coincide with internal recognition that emissions presented a serious challenge. The company took steps to employ new, modern mining techniques that were more cost-effective and increased productivity.43 The Bunker Hill mine was old, and the underground workings were incredibly complex, including a two-mile adit tunnel and ore shafts encompassing four thousand feet vertically and five thousand feet horizontally.44 Trackless

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underground mining represented one innovation. Bunker Hill designed a “revolutionary new drilling machine” that was self-propelled and designed to use with a rubber-tired, front-end loader underground. The “jumbo” could be operated by one man instead of two and could drive trackless drifts. The ramp development method of mining represented another big experiment in this area. The ramps were like a staircase between one level and the next. Using a new one-cubic-yard loader that was small enough for the ramps, miners were able to complete development work twice as fast as with the conventional air-powered track machines. Between February 1970 and February 1971 a total of six thousand feet of trackless development was completed. Bunker Hill people estimated that every three new levels opened with the ramping method would save about $150,000.45 Gulf announced that it would spend $3 million on exploration and development in a five-year period. In 1969 the company unveiled a major exploration project at Pend Oreille mine, near Metaline Falls, Washington, designed to develop new ore reserves and budgeted at $250,000.46 Bunker Hill spent eighteen thousand dollars exploring Sierra Silver-Lead Mining Company’s Hardscrabble property two miles north of Osburn and twenty thousand dollars near Mullan at Princeton Mining Company.47 The Cortez operations, owned in conjunction with American Exploration and Mining Company of San Francisco, earned a net income of $2.599 million. Bunker Hill officials searched for a partner to join them in developing the Higdon property in Missouri, a Bunker Hill investment since 1964.48 Gulf began a concerted effort to convince labor that employees would have to be a part of the solution to company productivity difficulties. In a letter to employees regarding the cost-reduction program, the company pointed out that Bunker Hill was in a precarious position, and the competitive situation demanded that everyone cooperate. While the lead smelter at Glover, Missouri, produced eight hundred tons of lead per man-year, the Bunker Hill figure was only about three hundred tons, and that kind of competitive disadvantage could not be tolerated.49 The Gulf demand for profits was reflected in more direct attempts to increase worker productivity as well. According to labor, this was speed-up, but management maintained that this demand only reflected the new realities of the metals industry. These differing viewpoints created a confrontation that had been a hallmark of labor-management interaction in recent years, as the situation at the Bunker Hill zinc plant

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illustrated. Since the plant utilized electrolysis rather than a fire method, it was able to continue production when many U.S. zinc smelters were forced to close. However, the zinc plant cell room represented a bottleneck in production. It had 960 individual cell boxes, sixteen thousand cathodes, and twenty-one thousand anodes. Every eight to twenty-four hours, the zinc was removed manually from the plates. This stripping operation left the aluminum cathodes clean and ready to return; the zinc that was produced was 99.99 percent pure.50 Traditionally, a worker was required to hand strip eight truckloads of cathodes for a day’s pay. Based on the advice of industrial engineering consultants, management implemented an experimental incentive hand-pulling and -stripping program during November 1968. According to test results, one man could strip twelve to thirteen truckloads per shift, and in fact, one worker stripped sixteen loads. If the workers agreed to accept this standard, Gulf could reduce the stripping crew by approximately fifteen men, at a savings of between fifty thousand and eighty thousand dollars per year. Needless to say, many workers were less than enthusiastic, since it threatened job security and required considerable more exertion in less than ideal working conditions. By January 1969 twenty-six men were working under the incentive plan in an effort to increase their take-home pay.51 At the same time, management noted that lead absorption incidents increased “significantly” during 1968 as the result of lower turnover and more overtime work.52 As one worker noted, “All of us who worked in the cell room knew it was hell, a clamorous, acidy, rotten egg sulphorous [sic], sweltering dangerous hell, worked at by men happy to earn a paycheck but angry at the cell room’s degrading conditions.”53 The zinc plant cell room case makes it clear that greater productivity came at a cost; in this instance, at least, one aspect of the cost involved worker health. The personal costs were even higher. A renewed emphasis on safety was yet another aspect of Gulf’s retention program and cost-reduction effort. In October 1969 Bunker Hill created one central safety authority in the industrial relations department as a replacement for three separate safety departments.54 Officials advocated a more “positive approach” to accident prevention and industrial health, particularly in the wake of a devastating fire at the nearby Sunshine mine, when ninety-one men lost their lives in the worst hard-rock mining fire in fifty-five years. Bunker Hill put all of its resources at the disposal of the Sunshine, and company crews were quickly dispatched to assist. Though Bunker Hill people were proud

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Worker hand stripping at the Bunker Hill zinc plant, 1968. (MG367-2414-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

of their performance, the disaster cast a pall over the entire Coeur d’Alene mining district. In the aftermath, every Bunker Hill and Crescent underground worker received training in the use of the Mine Safety Administration (MSA) self-rescuer; Gulf properties were the first in the district to make the self-rescuer required equipment.55 The company also updated emergency plans.56 However, Bunker Hill management continued its decades-long policy of refusing to allow safety considerations to limit managerial prerogative. Democratic governor Cecil Andrus appointed Carl Griner to be state mine inspector, and Griner insisted that hourly employees accompany his inspectors. Bunker Hill officials complained, “Evidently he feels that hourly employees knew [sic] more about our work places than management.” Of course, this was precisely what workers did think.57

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Internecine labor organization machinations complicated Gulf’s managerial plans; officials acknowledged that a volatile labor climate confronted them as Steelworkers and Northwest Metal Workers vied for Bunker Hill worker support. The by now all-too-familiar advertisements and radio broadcasts reiterated claims and counterclaims, but this time the situation was complex since Mine-Mill no longer existed. Northwest urged its members to “resist the power-hungry Steelworkers’ dues grab” and described the Steelworkers as “a foreign union,” controlled by officers in “Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 2,303 miles away.”58 The union also continued its longstanding policy of appealing to wives: “A word to the wives of Northwest Metal Workers. Unless you can see your way clear to run your household through a lengthy strike you’d better talk with your husband before he even considers voting for the Steelworkers.”59 For their part, the Steelworkers countered with claims of the advantages of AFL-CIO membership and criticism of Northwest. One ad argued, “When a tool doesn’t work at all . . . THROW IT AWAY!”60 Taking up an old Mine-Mill argument, the Steelworkers asserted that NWMW actions were no substitute for willingness to stand up to the company. In April 1970 United Steelworkers once again filed a petition with the National Labor Relations Board for certification as the official bargaining representatives of the Bunker Hill workers. Eleven hundred and five workers of the 1,304 eligible cast their ballots at the May 1970 certification election. When controversies involving challenged ballots were finally resolved, the vote was Northwest, 556, Steelworkers, 542, and the NLRB informed the Bunker Hill Company that Northwest would be recertified as the bargaining agent.61 Contract negotiations followed the NLRB election as usual, but this time there was considerable worker sentiment for a strike unless the company made significant concessions. Following days of negotiations, and in response to pressure from both union officials and the company, rank-and-file workers approved a contract by a mere 70-vote margin— clearly less than a mandate.62 Northwest Metal Workers Union and Bunker Hill Company representatives formally signed the new contract on December 1, 1970. It provided a ninety-three-cent-per-hour increase in wages and benefits. Bunker Hill president Woodruff noted that, in order to meet the increased financial obligation, Bunker Hill expected “improved productivity from each man and woman on the job.”63

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Having settled the negotiation without a strike, company and union officials believed they had guaranteed labor stability for another three years, but they were disappointed, as labor peace remained elusive. An early indication of dissent within Northwest Metal Workers involved the Rejects. Militants within Northwest wanted the Rejects admitted to membership and convinced the Rejects to reapply. Despite NWMW officers’ urgings that they not do so, a majority of Metal Workers Union members voted to approve the Rejects’ applications; so, after ten years, they became members of Northwest. Ironically, given their historic animosity, the Rejects saw a merger with the Steelworkers as the only salvation for organized labor at the Bunker Hill Company, and they even found a loophole that facilitated the merger.64 After resolving company objections, the Bunker Hill bargaining unit received the designation Local No. 7854, United Steelworkers of America (USWA).65 The Steelworkers’ victory reflected the fact that an international union was better positioned to combat the Gulf corporate entity. The changes Gulf sought in the labor-management relationships demanded constant union vigilance and required tough grievance work. Northwest had neither the expertise to monitor the collective bargaining agreement effectively, nor the resources of Steelworkers.66 The union maintained that more grievances were handled and more cases arbitrated in the year after the merger than in the ten years of Northwest Metal Workers’ tenure.67 Labor-management relations entered a new era, and, for the first time, Kellogg workers looked outside of the West—to Houston and Pittsburgh— for policies that would impact their daily lives. Meanwhile, Gulf president Robert Allen used his political influence to diminish regulatory effects in the area of the environment. He served as Richard Nixon’s top fundraiser in Texas, and Gulf apparently channeled $100,000 to the Nixon campaign through its defunct Mexican subsidiaries two days before strict regulations went into effect in April 1972.68 Despite this expenditure, by 1973 environmental pressures converged on the Bunker Hill Company, and it became less cooperative. The company announced an Intermittent Curtailment System (ICS) to deal with SO2 emissions not captured by the sulfuric acid plant.69 The ICS required careful monitoring of weather and production conditions. When pollution levels threatened to exceed established standards, the company would cease operation. Although considerable financial sacrifice resulted, Bunker Hill claimed this was the only option available to

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them. According to officials, Bunker Hill’s existing equipment could meet the standard about 345 days a year; they had no choice but to curtail operations on the remaining days. A catastrophe disrupted Bunker Hill pollution control efforts on September 3, 1973, when a fire broke out in the smelter baghouse. The baghouse comprised seven sections, and sections six and seven both suffered significant damage, including the destruction of part of the roof. This created a difficult situation for the Bunker Hill Company. Since the roof was gone, there was no place to attach the cloth bags that caught the smelter smoke emissions.70 The company decided to continue to operate and to use the remaining portion of the baghouse to control the smoke and fumes.71 Although officials hurried to repair the damages, construction delays and the unavailability of replacement bags obstructed their efforts. Baghouse section seven was not replaced until November 3, 1973; section six remained inoperative until March 17, 1974. This situation stressed the remaining baghouse sections, which had to compensate for the damaged areas; consequently, bags in sections one through five wore out faster. Even after the baghouse fire damage was repaired, the company continued to have difficulty obtaining the all-important bags from suppliers.72 The decision to not only continue smelter production, but also to increase the amount of lead processed remains the subject of considerable controversy. Two facts are certain: first, the price of lead increased substantially around the time of the baghouse fire. Lead prices in January 1973 were $286 per ton and by October 1974 had climbed to $479 a ton.73 Second, during the period that the baghouse was not operating at full efficiency, the amount of lead emissions increased. Average lead emissions during the years 1955 to 1964 were 8.3 tons per month and ll.7 metric tons from 1965 through 1973. Emissions increased to 35.3 tons per month following the baghouse fire.74 This evidence strongly suggests that despite the realization that the damaged baghouse meant increased lead emissions, the Bunker Hill Company decided to continue producing lead in order to take advantage of the price increases. Although state officials in the area suspected as much at the time, the state of Idaho took no action to curtail Bunker Hill production. This lack of state response no doubt reflected the economic and political power that the company wielded in Idaho. Bunker Hill reported losses of $9.037 million in 1973. Robert Allen announced that he had refinanced Gulf’s $50 million dollar debt with a

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final maturity date of 1989, thus accelerating the push for profits.75 Bunker Hill ended its long-term agreement with National Lead Industries as one step in that direction. Investment analysts had criticized Gulf for relying on NLI instead of marketing lead and zinc, two of its principal products, itself. In response, Gulf formed Bunker Hill Sales Company, a wholly owned subsidiary headquartered in New York City, to market metals.76 A 1974 turnaround in Bunker Hill profits was phenomenal when, partly as a result of higher lead prices, the company reported a huge income of almost $26 million.77 Gulf responded with an all-out effort to increase mineral production and establish a diversified mining base that included Bunker Hill acquisition of 100-percent ownership of Pend Oreille Mines & Metals in 1974 and purchase of the Pioche property in Nevada two years later.78 Gulf pushed Bunker Hill to examine more potential new ventures, but Kellogg employees responded that they had their hands full with current work, and Gulf should look elsewhere for the necessary expertise.79 Bunker Hill officials believed that, when metals prices were low, they took the brunt of Houston criticism, but when the prices rebounded, they were expected to carry the entire Gulf Resources Corporation. Internal issues did not disappear. Both Steelworkers and the Bunker Hill Company grappled with a new cadre of women workers. In 1972 in an effort to comply with equal opportunity laws, Bunker Hill accepted women for production jobs; Judy Etherton became the first woman to be hired at the smelter since World War II.80 Before Etherton, there were only eight women on the hourly list at Bunker Hill, and six of them were women hired during World War II. In recognition of this fact, the Bunker Hill Reporter headline proclaimed, “Rosie Is back. Reminiscent of World War II, the Women Are Returning to the Bunker Hill Plants to Work Side-by-Side with Men.” According to the official Bunker Hill publication, though “a few may carry the torch of women’s liberation,” high wages attracted most of the women. One “smelter gal” stated, “I was making $1.40 per hour working at a café. Here I started at $3.73 and though it’s a little dirtier, the hours are shorter and the work is easier.”81 In 1975 Judy Etherton, whose father had worked at Bunker Hill since 1940, became the first female to work underground, where women had been excluded for reasons of “tradition, superstition, and perhaps a little chauvinism.”82 Between 1972 and 1976 forty-five women production workers were added to the Bunker Hill payroll, thirty in the lead smelter and fifteen in the zinc plant.83

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While the Bunker Hill Reporter emphasized that the women were treated the same as their male counterparts, most male workers had a difficult time accepting the women, and the climate for women was problematic. Bunker Hill sought, for example, to entertain callers to the “GAP News” information number (a company-provided hotline with prerecorded announcements) with a report that D. O. Pennington, a lancer at the fuming plant, caught a sandal heel in the stairway leading to the parking lot, fell, and broke her big toe. The information line message joked, “She will lose a couple of weeks on this industrial accident.”84 This gibe hinted at a more deep-seated and widely held attitude that women were not suited to the Bunker Hill workplace. The roller coaster–like condition of the metals market wreacked havoc with Gulf/Bunker Hill plans. Following 1974’s record performance, 1975 saw the market plummet and metals prices decline. Bunker Hill president James Halley referred to the situation as the worst economy since the 1930s, and it could not have come at a less opportune time. Bunker Hill had just launched its marketing division when the bottom fell out of the metals market, and Bunker Hill customers could not meet their contractual obligations. Bunker Hill considered closing the Crescent and Reeves MacDonald mines. Bunker Hill’s 1975 earnings represented only 14 percent of total Gulf earnings, down from 40 percent in 1974.85 Pollution costs only exacerbated the Bunker Hill’s financial plight. The heady financial success of 1974 had overshadowed the challenge of both lead and SO2 emissions, but these problems did not disappear.86 The year 1974 was pivotal in the history of the Bunker Hill Company’s lead problems, and the chronological proximity to the baghouse fire is probably not a coincidence. In April, two Kellogg-area youngsters were hospitalized with symptoms of lead poisoning. Alfred P. Thomas, Jr., and Marla J. Thomas, individually and as guardian ad litem for three minor children, sued Gulf, seeking $500,000 general damages and $500,000 punitive damages stemming from lead poisoning.87 Dr. James A. Bax, of the Idaho State Department of Environmental Control, investigated and reported that according to state measurements, the average lead levels in the smelter area had increased by a factor of four over the last two years and were certainly much higher than the surrounding area. Average ambient lead levels in the Kellogg-Smelterville area had increased dramatically—from 3.9 ug/m3 (micrograms per cubic meter) in 1971, to 8.6 in 1972, to 13.2 in 1973.88 This substantial increase both surprised and worried state officials, who contacted experts from the Centers for Disease

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Control (CDC) and asked for assistance. During August, CDC physicians visited Kellogg and examined children from the entire area. They found that 99 percent of the one- to nine-year-old children living within one mile of the smelter had blood lead levels greater than forty micrograms of lead per one hundred milliliters of blood, indicating increased absorption, and 22 percent had levels greater than eighty ug/100mL, indicating lead poisoning.89 Also during April, the company received a number of complaints of horses dying and, in fact, paid compensation for at least nine of these animals. As a result, the company sent letters to all Kelloggarea landowners noting that there was an accumulation of lead in the area due to sixty years’ lead production, warning that there was a possible lead contamination problem, and advising against grazing horses or other livestock on the land.90 The company responded to the lead poisoning problem in several ways. Bunker Hill had embarked on a plan to revegetate eighteen thousand acres in 1972, and research under the auspices of the Greater Shoshone County, Inc., the U. S. Bureau of Mines, and the University of Idaho had been undertaken to determine what variety of trees could grow.91 Bunker Hill began planting trees and shrubs during the summer of 1975.92 Eventually the company boasted a well-publicized greenhouse located three thousand feet from the surface in a mine ventilation shaft that grew trees to supply the revegetation effort.93 The company also stepped up its efforts to control lead emissions, and by June 17, Baker claimed the company was making significant progress.94 To further demonstrate its commitment to improvement, Bunker Hill created the Division of Environmental Affairs and made Baker vice president. However, in June, when he submitted a confidential lead smelter master plan to Gulf, Halley told Gulf president Frank Woodruff that the smelter was not producing as much as it should, that the pollution controls were not up to standards, and that OSHA requirements were not being met and workers were being “leaded.”95 The State of Idaho Department of Health and Welfare demanded more information on Kellogg-area children’s lead levels. Kellogg city officials expressed indignation about the department’s interference, and the Bunker Hill Company fought efforts to have the Centers for Disease Control, in Atlanta, conduct a study.96 The company did agree to cosponsor and provide most of the financing for a state inquiry, the Shoshone County Lead Health Project. The company called on industry contacts for assistance in locating experts who would be sympathetic to the smelter’s position

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Kellogg-area families in line for blood testing to determine lead levels, c. 1974. (MG3670-2429-5, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

(particularly from the Kettering Labs), and President Halley was able to make certain that Dr. Panke was the chief medical investigator for the project. The study found that of 172 children living in the area closest to the smelter, all but two, or 98.2 percent, had lead levels of over 40 ug/100 mL, a level government officials deemed dangerous.97 Dr. Glen Wegner, director of the Shoshone Lead Project, made an interim report to the Kellogg community in January 1975. He indicated that forty-five children had blood lead levels of greater than 80 ug/100 mL, including one child with the highest blood lead level ever reported. These children were receiving a physician’s care. A certified epidemiologist had investigated the children’s homes and made recommendations. An industrial hygienist and licensed practical nurse, Irene Stroud, and a home health worker, Ann Goldade, began the process of visiting each home in which a family member suffered an abnormal absorption of lead.98 These visits were due to the conviction that, as Dr. John A. Mather,

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administrator for the Health Services Division of the state’s Department of Health and Welfare, indicated in late 1974, there was a correlation between habits and conditions in the houses and yards and children’s blood lead levels.99 According to officials, children from poorer families were at greater risk not only as a result of their economic situation, but also, from the officials’ perspective, due to poor parenting. The Kellogg School Board voted to close the Silver King School— located across the street from the smelter—at the end of the school year. In response, school district patrons claimed that the lead danger was unsubstantiated and demanded an election. The Silver King PTA placed newspaper advertisements claiming that there was “no conclusive evidence that the school children are getting leaded by attending the school” and pointing out the financial burden closure would cause the school district. Voters chose to keep the school building in use by a 996–131 margin. According to state officials, lead levels at the school were 130,000 ppm(parts per million), or 130 times the safe level.100 Kellogg community members expressed their doubts regarding state officials’ opinions, and it would not be the last time they did so. In October, the Bunker Hill Company announced a program to purchase houses in the area adjacent to the smelter at appraised value before the incidents of lead poisoning. Bunker Hill paid $464,440 for all but fifteen houses within a one-half-mile radius of the smelter. Company workers then burned down the houses, bulldozed the waste, brought in new top soil, and attempted to revegetate the area—although few of the new plants grew.101 The lead smelter working conditions again came to the fore when Bunker Hill received information regarding the dangers women smelter workers faced. They asked Dr. Panke to investigate, and after attending a lead industries conference, the doctor was convinced that women production workers were at risk. He wrote to Halley in April 1975, indicating that women should not be allowed to work in either the lead smelter or the zinc plant unless they could prove that they were sterile. The company informed the Steelworkers that the women would be transferred and that their seniority would be lost.102 Some women produced proof of sterility, some underwent surgery so that they could return to their jobs, and others accepted transfers to other areas. The Bunker Hill decision to ban fertile women from the smelter and zinc plant was not permanently resolved, but provides another example of company awareness that lead in its plants presented a danger to workers.103

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Technical staff people from the state, the EPA, and the Bunker Hill Company met to review the SO2 situation. The EPA advocated sulfur burners or other permanent controls for the Bunker Hill smelter, with an estimated installation cost of $830,000 and an additional $550,000 yearly operational cost. Bunker Hill countered this suggestion by pointing out that the EPA itself was on record as saying that sulfuric acid plants were the “latest available technology” for sulfur dioxide control. Bunker Hill consultants had examined the company’s sulfuric acid plants and found that they were operating at “peak efficiency.” Therefore, the EPA was asking for additional untried, experimental technology.104 In place of sulfur burners, company consultants suggested the construction of a 715-foot stack at the lead smelter and a 610-foot stack at the zinc plant designed to better disperse smelter emissions. Bunker Hill believed that the stacks would enable it to meet the 1977 state guidelines, and company officials claimed that EPA obduracy was delaying the beginning of stack construction and thus endangering the Kellogg economy. Gene Baker wrote to EPA Hearing Officer Theodore R. Rogowski, “The EPA’s proposal is the only remaining barrier to the taking of final steps to ensure that the sulfur dioxide ambient air quality standards are met in Kellogg area without excessive curtailment of Bunker Hill’s operations.”105 This dispute between Bunker Hill and the EPA put state of Idaho officials in an untenable position. Ian von Lindern, an environmental engineer at the Department of Health and Welfare, noted Bunker Hill’s adamant opposition to permanent controls and launched a campaign against the company’s stance.106 He accused Bunker Hill of seeking to make only “cosmetic” changes, and complained, “Repeatedly, we are given faulty, incorrect, obscure and meaningless information. . . . Bunker Hill technical reports are an insult to an engineering education. Many seem to be direct lies.” According to von Lindern, even the company that installed the sinter machine recommended a sulfur burner, and furthermore, for the money spent on stacks, Bunker Hill could provide scrubbers for the smelter. He even claimed that the state bureaucracy worried more about maintaining good relations with the company than solving the problem.107 In an effort to attract public support for its position, the Bunker Hill Company retained two public relations firms, Dale Henderson Inc. and Ogilvy and Mather Inc., to undertake a “preliminary communications program.” The company also stepped up efforts to publicize its pollution

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control activities, including an expanded public speaking program, a concerted effort to obtain media coverage of pollution control projects, and increased discussion of the topic in the Bunker Hill Reporter.108 The public relations firms had their work cut out for them when an NBC Nightly News program titled “Deadwood Gulch” aired on February 22, 1975, and examined Kellogg’s lead pollution. Although even company officials admitted that the NBC coverage took note of Bunker Hill pollution control efforts, the program clearly emphasized the pollution problems.109 In April 1975 the company issued new regulations regarding industrial health protection in lead exposure areas. The company recognized that it would be best to provide protection from lead exposure by “engineering and/or administrative means,” but in the meantime, respirators were the best option. Workers were required to trim beards, regularly check the respirator for proper fit, and use the respirator. Employees were also required to wash their hands and faces before eating or smoking, wash their work clothes daily, shower and change clothes before leaving the plant, and have regular monitoring. The thrust of the regulations assumed that, if a worker’s blood lead level exceeded 80 ug/100 mL of whole blood, he had not followed the regulations, even if no supervisor had observed that he was not using his respirator. He had ninety days to either reduce his lead level or face discharge.110 The Steelworkers responded negatively to what they termed an “intimidating” letter outlining this new policy, and in fact, the union demanded a company retraction. Union men wondered how the company could think about dismissing a worker who had excessive lead levels when company procedures were, in the final analysis, responsible.111 OSHA-mandated company logs of occupational injuries and illnesses indicated that union concerns regarding an increase in lead absorption were warranted.112 The Shoshone County Lead Health Project issued its final report in September 1975 and concluded that project investigators did “not feel any permanent clinical impairment or illness has occurred. Further it is not likely to occur in the future due to this particular exposure.” Though some Idaho newspapers questioned the report’s reliability given the Bunker Hill’s role in funding the study, company president Halley sent a letter to all employees announcing that “we can all be pleased and relieved by the conclusion.” The company worked hard to make sure that the study’s report received media attention, but there was a pronounced difference in the coverage of the report between the Kellogg

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Evening News and newspapers outside Bunker Hill’s immediate sphere of influence.113 Although many Kellogg citizens believed that the crisis was over, and the Bunker Hill Company hoped to put the issue behind it, the company’s problems had only begun. A number of state and federal governmental entities increased their activities vis-à-vis Bunker Hill. Subordinates pressured Dr. Lee Stokes, head of Idaho Health and Welfare, to take stronger action since “there are obvious correlations between Bunker Hill emissions, air lead levels, and consequent exposure to the community,” and the company was “hostile” to any suggestion that it was violating air quality regulations.114 Upon reviewing the available data, the Health and Welfare Department and the state epidemiologist advised residents of Smelterville, Kellogg, and Pinehurst not to raise vegetables due to lead contamination in the soil. One state official described Bunker Hill delays in controlling fugitive dust as “deplorable.”115 In June, the EPA cited Bunker Hill for violation of the Idaho state regulation for control of fugitive dust in its lead smelter operations.116 Bunker Hill more and more complained that it was a victim of EPA “fiats,” that it was being asked to do more than other smelters, and that the government bureaucrats were overreacting.117 Halley responded to state orders not to raise vegetables by comparing them to government warnings regarding cigarettes. He told Cassandra Tate of the Lewiston Morning Tribune that “people are sick of the government telling us what is good for us. . . . I make it a point to never wear a seat belt, and I get a great sense of personal satisfaction out of it.”118 Halley’s attitudes resonated with many Silver Valley residents. In December 1975 the smelter was shut down seven days for Supplemental Control. (Supplemental Control was previously known as the Intermittent Curtailment System, but company officials thought “intermittent” suggested there was not enough commitment.) These December curtailments and those in January 1976 cost Bunker Hill over $3.5 million in lost revenues; employees lost two thousand man-shifts of work. Gene Baker wrote to Dr. Stokes that the shutdown had resulted in the furlough without pay of 150 workers and a 25 percent reduction in those employees’ December paychecks. Baker warned, “In the future there must be a better realization of the humanistic responsibility to individuals within the society the regulatory agencies were created to serve.” Many Kellogg residents echoed Baker’s view.119

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In a further initiative, Bunker Hill sought judicial review of the EPA SO2 standard, contending that the EPA had acted arbitrarily and capriciously in overturning the Idaho plan and promulgating its own regulation.120 The company promised to carry its fight all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. The company also announced a delay in construction of the tall stacks—blaming the EPA for creating a climate of uncertainty and jeopardizing the Kellogg area’s economy and health. Bunker Hill officials touted the company’s earnest efforts to meet EPA standards and claimed that the agency was “unreasonable.”121 Bunker Hill did face a dilemma. A long delay in tall-stack construction while the EPA ruling was in the courts would guarantee the company’s inability to meet the state 1977 SO2 standards. Following a complete economic feasibility study and input from company lawyers, Bunker Hill announced on June 1, 1976, that it would go ahead with tall-stack construction.122 Idaho governor Cecil Andrus praised the decision and State Department of Health and Welfare officials deemed the company’s plan acceptable. The EPA, on the other hand, continued to claim that Bunker Hill could capture more SO2 through improved acid plant design. Rank-and-file state of Idaho employees also expressed doubts regarding the effectiveness of the tall stacks.123 Stack construction was estimated to cost $11 million and were scheduled for operation by July 1977, the original date for the State Implementation Plan. According to Engineering and Mining Journal, Bunker Hill was gambling on “judicial reason” in applying the EPA standards. The company was also wagering that the $11 million expenditure would allow the smelter and zinc plant to continue operation long enough to recoup the costs.124 The shutdown implications of Supplemental Control only exacerbated Bunker Hill production managers’ frustrations as they worked to keep the smelter operating at capacity. The “GAP News” took to reporting production glitches and shutdowns. Between August 1, 1975, and July 31, 1976, the Bunker Hill smelter was shut down parts of 173 days, or 1,427 hours, with an accompanying loss of more than twenty-five hundred man-shifts and 13,836 tons of cast lead.125 By 1977 it seemed that Bunker Hill’s luck had gone from bad to worse; its financial situation definitely had followed that course. Profits had been in a downslide since the record 1974 performance, but in 1977 the situation was desperate.

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Tall stack, 715 feet, Bunker Hill smelter, c. 1977. (MG367-2417-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

BUNKER HILL PROFITS 1974 1975 1976 1977

$ 25,953,000 $ 6,912,000 $ 6,037,000 $ [9,037,000]126

Bunker Hill had made the decision to build the tall stacks, but had to pay for them despite a poor economic showing and continuing production disruptions due to smelter breakdowns and shutdowns to control smelter emission levels. When Gulf personnel criticized the Bunker Hill 1977

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capital budget and the losses it predicted, James Halley responded with a terse memo to Frank Woodruff: “It may take some time, however, to recover from the sense of discouragement created by your memo.”127 Bunker Hill people thought they deserved credit for performing as well as they did, despite tremendous obstacles. The company found some relief, and certainly a sense of vindication when in July 1977 the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals held that the EPA had not “exercised a reasoned discretion” in setting the SO2 standards. The court refused to force Bunker Hill to meet the EPA standard and remanded the issue to the EPA for further consideration. However, this victory came amidst increased difficulties on the environmental front.128 In June 1977 nine children brought suit against the Bunker Hill Company seeking $20 million in damages in recompense for health problems and loss of potential wages due to high blood lead levels stemming from the 1973 baghouse fire. Billy and Marlene Yoss’s three children and the six children of Edward and Janis Dennis claimed that, during that period, they had lived near the smelter and had suffered varying degrees of lead poisoning. The Bunker Hill Company and the parent company, Gulf Resources, realized that the suit represented a serious challenge and spared no expense in fighting the charges.129 Labor troubles exacerbated the economic pressures and the environmental concerns. In May, United Steelworkers Local No. 7854 went on strike—the first Bunker Hill strike since 1960. A Bunker Hill management fear became a reality when Bunker Hill workers sought parity with Steelworkers members at the nearby Sunshine mine. Local No. 7854 members rejected the company’s last offer by a margin of 90 percent, even though it included an eighty-three-cent wage hike and thirty cents each year thereafter.130 James Halley and Bunker Hill’s industrial relations administrator, Gerald G. Turnbow, sent a letter to all employees stating, “This is by far the largest offer Bunker Hill has ever made to any group of employees and, except for the Sunshine settlement, the largest offer ever made by any company in the District.”131 Bunker Hill offered to open its audited financial data to Steelworkers in an effort to prove its inability to pay; the company argued that if it met the Steelworkers’ demands, it would have to shut down Bunker Hill.132 It appeared that the two sides had reached a stalemate, and in desperation, company officials tried to appeal directly to workers with a “Dear Fellow Employee” letter. The company indicated that despite efforts, “frankly we are not much closer to settling the strike than we were six

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weeks ago.”133 Bunker Hill officials were acutely aware that in this instance they no longer had the Communist issue to fall back on, and there would be no independent union, like the Northwest Metal Workers, to rescue them.134 Local No. 7854 countered the Gulf letter with claims that “the absentee landlord” was trying to break the strike rather than settle it.135 By August the strike was three months old, and Gulf announced that any increase in the offer would result in the elimination of mining jobs. “Unfortunately the trade-off in any decision by the company to increase its offer will be a concurrent decision to make substantial operating cutbacks and therefore, extensive personnel terminations in those profit centers now barely profitable.” A three-cent decline in the zinc price only increased the bleakness of the Bunker Hill financial picture.136 On June 1 Gulf was forced to stop operations at the Pend Oreille mine since the company had no place to send the ore. The mine was closed temporarily on May 25 and permanently on September 1, putting eighty steelworkers in Metaline Falls out of work.137 From the company perspective, the strike had lasted much longer than management had planned, and Steelworkers had proved tougher than Bunker Hill had anticipated. There was serious discussion among company managers regarding the possibility of simply closing the mines and reaching a settlement with surface plant employees. Bunker Hill could pass increased production costs back to concentrate suppliers in that event. Bunker Hill president Halley argued that this scenario would result in a cash flow that was not sufficient to meet Gulf’s requirements. He also pointed out that, if the Bunker Hill and Star mines were closed, it would be impossible to reopen them with contract miners, and they would be lost forever.138 On September 9, 1977, Local No. 7854 invited wives and girlfriends to a movie. Bill Thompson, USWA staff representative, reported on the status of the negotiations, and, according to him, many of the women present spoke vigorously in support of the strike. The women planned a parade of support for September 20, but a tentative agreement was reached on September 12, 1977. The union won two dollars and seventytwo cents an hour in wages and benefits. Workers gained a tenth holiday and improvements in vacation allowances, sickness and accident policies, and pension benefits. The new contract also included a Cost of Living Adjustment (COLA); union officers heralded the COLA as a clear victory. The agreement was more costly than Gulf had expected; Gulf had “planned” for a 38 percent increase for Steelworkers and a 42 percent increase for the craft union members, but ended up with 53.9 percent

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for crafts and 51.5 percent for Steelworkers. The settlement did keep Bunker Hill wages below the rest of the district, but in the long run, the contract was perhaps too expensive for the company.139 While Bunker Hill expended considerable energy in preparing its defense in the Yoss case, the EPA began the process of promulgating a standard of lead in ambient air. Bunker Hill and other lead producers were convinced that 5.0 ug/m3 was an acceptable standard that they could reasonably meet and that would guarantee the health of workers and community members. The EPA announced a standard of 1.5 ug/m3 of lead in ambient air on September 28, 1978.140 Bunker Hill president E. Viet Howard believed that 80 percent of smelters in the United States, Bunker Hill included, would be unable to reach this benchmark, as it was beyond both their economic and technical ability.141 The industry estimated that the new standard would reduce U.S. lead capacity by 80 percent through mine, smelter, refinery, and battery plant closures, would cost twenty-three thousand jobs, and would create a worldwide shortfall.142 A presentation to the Gulf board of directors drove home this point in no uncertain terms. An overhead titled “New Regulations in Development, Lead in Ambient Air” graphically noted that cities such as Los Angeles had more than double the proposed lead level of 1.5 ug/m3 and that the level at the Bunker Hill fence line was 15.0 ug/m3. (The security fence line level at the El Paso smelter was 30.0 ug/m3.)143 At about the same time the company received word that OSHA would promulgate an arsenic exposure standard of 10.0 ug/m3 of air, one fiftieth of the existing standard.144 Since 1975 Bunker Hill management had argued that there was not sufficient evidence to support this new standard on the grounds of worker health; furthermore, the company said it did not have the technical ability to meet the standard.145 Employees agreed with the company’s assessment of the new arsenic standards, and several Bunker Hill workers launched a grassroots, antiOSHA movement.146 Employees wrote to Idaho U.S. senator James McClure to complain about the rules. McClure traveled to the Silver Valley and met with the workers, who told him that the regulations hampered their work, created uncomfortable working conditions, and threatened the existence of their jobs because of the financial burden they placed upon the company. According to the employees, the respirators were bulky and the overalls designed to protect them from arsenic were uncomfortable. They resented the federal government dictating their work attire and practice. The company denied that supervisors

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organized the movement, but they did allow people time off to attend the meetings if their work did not suffer.147 This anti-OSHA movement tapped deep-seated Silver Valley attitudes regarding both outsiders and the federal government and also capitalized on workers’ justified worries regarding their own job security. The entire nonferrous metals industry felt the effects of environmental regulation. Compliance with these regulations had resulted in about a 10 percent increase in the price of lead and zinc production costs and had contributed to the closing of nearly one half of U.S. zinc production facilities since 1970.148 Business Week wrote about “The Lead Industry’s Awesome Air-Pollution Task.”149 As a result, the industry pulled out all the stops against the l.5 ug/m3 ambient lead standard.150 For its part, Bunker Hill adopted a decidedly adversarial approach to both state and federal environmental regulators. Bunker Hill official Jack W. Kendrick told employees that “government interference with virtually every aspect of our personal and business lives continues unabated at a huge cost with little or no apparent benefit.”151 Despite the expenditure of over $20 million for pollution control, Bunker Hill was still unable to comply with all of the regulations and received EPA nonattainment status. EPA criticism of the tall stacks and the entire Supplemental Control system continued, especially during January 1979, when a record-breaking cold wave, with temperatures hovering around zero degrees and dropping as low as minus twenty-five, combined with air stagnation to create a real crisis. This situation provides an excellent illustration of the complex interactions between the community, the company, and the EPA. Unable to meet the emissions requirements due to air stagnation, the company shut down its plants. Bunker Hill president Howard placed a conference call to the EPA’s Donald Dubois, regional administrator of Region X. He explained to Dubois that “we’ve got a critical situation over here.” Sulfur dioxides were building up, and they had tried a 50 percent shutdown and finally had to shut everything down to avoid a “willful violation with consequent criminal as well as civil penalties” of the SO2 emissions standards. It was so cold that shutting down the plant was causing freezing and damage. According to Howard, a considerable amount of the harm was being done to the pollution control equipment, such as scrubbers and acid plants, which had water and fluids in them. Howard said, “I am in a position that we have exhausted our possibilities with what we can do—we need some help, aid, assistance, something.” He requested

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permission to resume operations at a curtailed level sufficient to keep the plant warm and prevent freeze damage. Howard sought some assurance that if he started the plant up to prevent greater damage he would not be “inviting some prosecural [sic] action.” The EPA had no legal right to waive the regulations, but within a few hours they did indicate that they “could consider good faith efforts to comply” in “deciding what enforcement action to take if standards were violated.”152 Fortunately, the air stagnation situation unexpectedly ended, and the company was able to resume operations. Bunker Hill saw this as an “opportunity here for public criticism of policy,” since they had spent $11 million, had a seventeen-month record of attainment, and the regulations were inflexible and required the company to harm their own plants in order to comply.153 The costs associated with this shutdown were huge—$1.018 million in lost production, twenty-five thousand dollars in lost wages, and seventy-five thousand dollars in repairs to equipment. President Howard pointed to the resulting damage to the smelter as proof that variances were needed for exceptional circumstances and that the EPA had lost sight of people in its relentless effort to enforce regulations. This portrayal of the Washington, D.C., bureaucracy as remote and unfamiliar with Idaho conditions resonated with Kellogg-area residents. The closure prompted several Silver Valley residents to write to the EPA and protest this lack of flexibility. There were so many that Donald R. Bliss, Jr., director of external affairs of the EPA’s Region X, wrote a response letter that was printed in the Kellogg Evening News on January 22, 1979, and was also sent to each letter writer. Bliss argued, “In our view, the shutdown and its economic effects on the residents of the Silver Valley resulted from a management decision by the Bunker Hill Company some time ago.” According to the EPA, when Bunker Hill chose the tall-stack solution, the company took its chances. In a prepared statement in response to the letter, Bunker Hill accused Bliss of offering “an overly simplistic explanation to a problem of major concern to all residents of the Silver Valley.”154 This conflict marks an important point. Residents of the Silver Valley rallied to support the Bunker Hill Company against interference on the part of the federal government in the form of the EPA, especially when the EPA demands seemed unreasonable and detrimental to the community’s economic well-being. By June, however, Bunker Hill and the EPA signed a “Settlement Agreement and Interim Control of SO2 Emissions.” The accord ended the SO2 litigation filed in 1975 and represented another victory for the

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company, since the agreement allowed the company to operate under the standards that it had been meeting since the tall stacks were completed.155 In addition, the settlement included provisions for excess emissions during periods of startup, shutdown, and equipment malfunctions. The company agreed to a research project to develop technology for permanent SO2 control. The sulfur dioxide emission problem was at least temporarily solved.156 By 1979 what experts had recognized as the biggest Bunker Hill challenge was even more evident—the need for a new source of ore. Bunker Hill could not make up for its ore shortfall through purchases on the international market unless U.S. producers were allowed to charge prices for their zinc that were competitive with international prices.157 Consequently, Bunker Hill joined other U.S. producers in pressuring the federal government to exempt zinc from price controls.158 This effort was unsuccessful, and Bunker Hill distributed popular bumper stickers that read, “Buy American Zinc and Foreign Peanuts,” a reference to Democratic president Jimmy Carter, a Georgia peanut farmer.159 The Bunker Hill Company could not look to its own holdings for relief. The continued prospects for the old Bunker Hill mine were not good. The company closed its Pioche operation. Officials deemed the Pioche a technical success that had resulted in a valuable asset—a fully equipped mine and mill—but since there was no market, the company had no choice but to end production there.160 Even under optimal conditions, Bunker Hill could not expect any production from the Higdon property for at least eighteen months.161 The only thing that saved Bunker Hill from utter financial devastation was the fact that silver prices literally went through the roof in 1978. As a result, the company built a new electrolytic silver refinery at the Kellogg lead smelter (at a cost of $750,000) and boosted silver refining capacity by three million ounces annually.162 Bunker Hill continued to experience “erosion of performance as compared to plan.” Howard reported to Gulf officials that Bunker Hill’s salaried staff was “working flat out to maximize income,” but “morale is not high.”163 They retained the First Boston Corporation to augment Bunker Hill’s investment banking relationships, and company managers set to work providing First Boston with all available information concerning Bunker Hill operations.164 Gulf withdrew all spending authority unless “it can be proven that failure to commence the project will have an adverse material effect on 1979 financial results, even if previously

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Bunker Hill silver refinery, 1970. (MG367-2406-1, Historical Photograph Collection, University of Idaho Library, Moscow, Idaho.)

approved” and suspended all construction projects. Bunker Hill managers received orders to defer contractually committed tonnages of concentrate payment when possible, reduce inventories, collect all pastdue payments, suspend hiring, and restrict overtime to an absolute minimum. Howard noted that the “foregoing measures are severe” but were necessary.165 Silver and lead prices dropped precipitously in 1980, while doubledigit inflation was wreaking havoc with the economy in general. One ramification was a slump in automobile production. General Motors alone used 40 percent less zinc in 1980 than it had the previous year.166 Base metal prices were down—the lead price dropped from an all-time high of sixty-six cents a pound in 1979 to thirty-four cents in 1980. The inflationary spiral sent costs skyrocketing—wages and salaries were up

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15 percent, electric power up 23 percent, natural gas up 49 percent, and coke (a coal-based fuel) up 20 percent.167 Ironically, this crisis came at a time when Bunker Hill managers could boast that their decade-long campaign to improve productivity at the Kellogg plants was on the verge of complete success. The appointment of Jack Kendrick to the post of Bunker Hill Company president accentuated the new realities, as Kendrick came to the Bunker Hill with an accounting background, rather than the usual mining/engineering experience. Both the Bunker Hill and Crescent mines exceeded planned expectations during 1980.168 The company began to produce a new family of zinc alloys to compete in the foundry castings industry. Company officials had lowered energy requirements at the plants as well. The lead smelter cast lead production was 119,400 tons compared with 101,400 tons in 1979, and the smelter set all-time records for sinter produced, sinter consumed, and blast furnace operating time. The silver refinery expanded by 50 percent.169 Recognizing that satisfactory labor negotiations were a prerequisite to company survival, Bunker Hill created a special management team and planned carefully to achieve that goal.170 Contract negotiations began on April 16, and a three-year contract that was within acceptable company parameters was signed on August 19. Turnover was at an all-time low; the company had one thousand job applications on file and closed the employment office—the labor situation was in hand.171 The Bunker Hill public relations spending began to pay off with awards for advertisements featuring the company’s underground greenhouse and revegetation program. The picture was not entirely rosy, though, and by 1980 Gulf management admitted that it was considering “strategic alternatives with respect to the Bunker Hill.”172 In actuality, Gulf had contracted with First Boston to contact potentially interested parties and discuss the sale of Bunker Hill. (Only top management was aware of this “Project X.”) First Boston asked potential buyers to sign a confidentiality statement and then provided them with all of Bunker Hill’s vital statistics. Company managers were hopeful that Cominco (a delegation visited Kellogg in January 1980) would make an offer. However, Cominco officials recognized the central Bunker Hill challenges. They mentioned that despite an expenditure of almost $5 million, Bunker Hill engineers had not been able to find a practical method of mechanizing the zinc plant stripping process. Cominco believed the lead smelter’s location was too close to surrounding

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hillsides to accommodate the major remodeling necessary to bring it to state-of-the-art conditions.173 Rumors regarding a possible sale began to circulate. When asked to comment, President Kendrick replied, “There is probably not a single business in the country that is not for sale at the right price, and Bunker Hill is no exception.” But the greatly inflated silver prices made it almost impossible for Kendrick or anyone else to establish what the “right price” was, and this certainly hampered potential sales as well.174 Although Bunker Hill remained optimistic about its ability to meet these challenges, company officials recognized that solving the problem of ambient lead in the workplace was going to be the “major environmental task” of the 1980s.175 Events in early 1980 brought this point home. Under revised OSHA requirements, Bunker Hill was not allowed to depend upon respirator use to contend with lead in the workplace; instead, the company was to make engineering changes. In addition, the company was required to transfer workers with elevated blood lead levels at no reduction in wage rates for the transferred employees. Bunker Hill officials realized that they would be unable to meet these standards even with a combination of respirators and improved engineering. The entire lead industry was convinced that the new rules were politically inspired and were not technologically feasible. Workers with blood lead levels of 80 ug/100 mL of blood were eligible for removal from the workplace; they could return when their blood lead levels fell below sixty. However, according to the guidelines, by 1984 removal would be required at fifty, and a worker could not return to work until his or her blood lead level was below forty. Gene Baker warned Gulf president Robert Allen that half of the lead smelter employees Bunker Hill tested showed blood lead levels above sixty, and he was not certain that they could achieve the fifty level at all.176 Consequently, Bunker Hill, along with the entire lead industry, sought a stay in the implementation of the OSHA lead standard. United Steelworkers believed that the stay would compromise worker health, and they fought against it. Union leaders also requested OSHA intervention, and the agency sent a representative and a physician, Dr. Patricia Sparks, to examine health and safety conditions at the Bunker Hill plants. As a result of this inquiry, on September 11, 1980, OSHA issued a citation for 108 violations. One of the violations involved the sterilization policy that, in 1975, had banned women from the smelter. According to OSHA, the sterilization requirement represented prima

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facie evidence that the company had failed to provide a safe and healthful environment for workers. OSHA fined Bunker Hill ten thousand dollars for this violation alone, and there is little doubt that the OSHA actions were in part an effort to pressure other companies into complying with the lead standard.177 Some officials also viewed this as a gender-equity issue; this was particularly true of Eula Bingham, the OSHA administrator. Bingham was opposed to any exclusion of women from the workplace. In defense of her viewpoint, she cited the case of dibromochloropropane (DBCP), a pesticide that was found to cause sterility in men. No one suggested that men be banned from the workplace. In Bingham’s view, both OSHA and American society in general should avoid a double standard.178 Bunker Hill and Gulf officials were particularly upset that a courier from OSHA hand delivered the citations at the same time the agency held a news conference in Washington, D.C., to announce them. Bunker Hill’s conviction that OSHA had blindsided them was certainly strengthened when the Washington Post reported the violations in a story with the headline, “Sterilization.” Bunker Hill president Kendrick pronounced the OSHA decision to take this to the newspapers “irresponsible.” During the summer of 1981 OSHA decided to drop the violations against Bunker Hill on the sterilization issue after a court ruling in a similar case against American Cyanide Corporation found that fetal protection was not part of OSHA’s responsibilities. Changes in the Washington, D.C., political climate also aided Bunker Hill. President Ronald Reagan appointees began to refer to an “exclusionary policy,” rather than a “sterilization policy,” and their change in emphasis and attitude helped to defuse the issue.179 Even the United Steelworkers expressed doubts as to whether or not there was sufficient evidence that women submitted to sterilization solely in an effort to keep their jobs.180 (The women involved turned to the Idaho Human Rights Commission, which found probable cause for discrimination, since men were not required to furnish proof of sterilization.)181 Bunker Hill denied that there was any discrimination and declined to enter into any conciliation negotiations.182 The entire episode highlighted the Bunker Hill Company’s increasing frustration level. The company had banned women from the smelter in the first place in an effort to prevent lead from damaging their health. This action then resulted in criticism and adverse publicity. On the other hand, the company was not able to make a definitive statement that lead exposure in its plants carried no health risks, and the women involved believed the government, the union, and the company had victimized them.

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Pressures on the environmental front only became more intense. On June 27, 1980, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia affirmed the EPA ambient air quality standard for lead of 1.5 micrograms.183 Bunker Hill claimed that the company would have had difficulty even in meeting the 5.0 microgram standard that the lead industry wanted. The Yoss case went to trial in Boise in January 1981 and, following more than a month of testimony, the two sides settled for $2 million. Most people in Kellogg viewed the decision as a “rip-off.” When the plaintiffs described Kellogg as an undesirable place to live, 4,337 people in north Idaho signed a petition of protest.184 Many people in the Kellogg/ Pinehurst/Smelterville community ostracized the Yoss and Dennis families and characterized them as unclean. When a newspaper article titled “Lead Poison Case Paints Grim Scene” described fifteen-month-old Arlene Yoss as she “sat playing last week in the pollution-contaminated dust of her front yard,” a Bunker Hill official wrote in the margin of his clipping, “This is what gets me—lead is absorbed through the skin.” He went on to write that the girl’s mother, Marlene, was a “squatter in a shack on BH property.”185 The official believed that lack of cleanliness and parental supervision were key components in the lead poisoning cases. As the state of Idaho, the EPA, and OSHA stepped up their regulatory efforts, all three made conflicting demands on Bunker Hill and entered into agreements that contradicted one another. This only increased Bunker Hill’s frustration level and convinced the company that Idaho’s distance from the Washington center of power led officials to believe they could act without fear of oversight or conflict. Douglas Costle, EPA administrator, announced that the agency was embarking on a two-year study of the lead problem, but Donald Dubois, EPA regional administrator, and Milton Klein, State of Idaho Health and Welfare administrator, demanded an immediate Bunker Hill compliance plan. Bunker Hill president Kendrick and Gene Baker traveled to Washington to meet with EPA officials and claimed that Bunker Hill was being separated from the rest of the lead industry. They “demanded that Costle evaluate the impact of the standard on the entire lead industry before singling out Bunker Hill.”186 Gulf president Robert Allen complained bitterly to Costle and sent blind carbon copies of his letter to Texas senator Lloyd Bentsen and two Idaho legislators, Senator James A. McClure and Representative Steve Symms.187 In a letter to employees, Allen warned that if government regulation remained “unchecked,” it “will surely result in loss of our economic freedom and when it does, loss of our political freedom will soon follow.”188

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In August 1981 the company declared, “Although Bunker Hill’s processing efficiencies at the smelters are presently the best in a decade, the operations will continue to generate substantial losses until such time as metal prices increase significantly over their present levels.”189 The needed market improvements did not come, and Gulf announced the closure of the Bunker Hill mine and smelter complex in the fall of 1981, ending almost one hundred years of operation. A flurry of efforts to prevent this closure, including proposals for union concessions and an employee purchase plan, were unsuccessful. The shutdown was completed in early 1982, putting more than two thousand people out of work.190 Gulf’s reasons for the closure were low metals prices, a lack of available concentrates to purchase, and the burden EPA standards placed upon the company. Gulf officials claimed that had they not attempted to meet the 1.5 microgram lead limit—a goal they were unable to achieve—they could have spent that money developing a lead/zinc mine to give them more raw material.191 In the face of the shutdown, the EPA and OSHA did agree to five years of “business certainty for the company,” but the regulatory concessions came too late, and people in Kellogg felt betrayed. Kellogg-area residents joked about eating “Fluffy Fresh Air Omelet,” “Blue Sky Pie,” and “Rainbow Stew” instead of the more substantial entrées they enjoyed before the Bunker Hill closure. Spokane newspaperman Chris Peck expressed area residents’ thoughts when he wrote, “What began as a wellintentioned if somewhat idealistic, environmental movement became a back-alley mugging of the fat boy on the block—Bunker Hill.”192 State officials had a different viewpoint as they accused the Bunker Hill Company of “obstructionism and non-compliance,” and the Kellogg community of being “non-cooperative.”193 Kellogg residents had no reason to cooperate with policies they realized might jeopardize their livelihoods. Gulf did promise to clean up the Bunker Hill site; in the words of President Kendrick, “As bitter as this has been, the company’s management will make every effort to ensure that no ‘sleeping giant’ remains at the site to ‘bite us’ at a later date.”194 Despite these assurances, the environmental problem continues. The EPA identified the twenty-one acres surrounding the smelter as a Superfund cleanup site on September 8, 1983, and the legal battle over who was responsible for the cleanup costs continued through the 1990s.195 Recent studies have shown that between 1965 and 1981 more than six million pounds of lead spewed from the Bunker Hill smelter stacks; cleanup efforts remain incomplete.196

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Graphic depiction of the amount of tailings, or waste, produced for every ton of ore mined. (Bunker Hill Reporter [May/June 1975]: 3, in author’s possession.)

Kellogg, Idaho’s, Bunker Hill Company shared its fate with other basic industries in the United States. Aging plants made it difficult for the company to compete in a global market. Company managers made real strides during the 1970s toward updating the physical plant, but, in the final analysis, the costs became prohibitive. Kellogg’s geographic location made it expensive to import concentrates from other locations, exacerbating the company’s difficulties. The ever-increasing demands for environmental improvements may have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. But Bunker Hill people themselves had created some of their own problems. In hindsight, the decision to construct the tall stacks at the smelter and zinc plant was probably shortsighted. The terrifically high silver prices in 1979 temporarily blinded company officials to the economic realities. In the final analysis, elements of Bunker Hill management that had been hallmarks of company success throughout the twentieth century

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were not able to save the business. Bunker Hill had always been able to locate sufficient ores to operate the surface plants—either through opportune discoveries or key purchases, such as the Star mine. The company had been remarkably skilled in applying new technology to both production and environmental situations. The tremendous Bunker Hill economic and political clout in Idaho had often allowed the company to circumvent environmental regulations. All of these previous strategies failed Bunker Hill managers in the 1970s, and the closure resulted. Kellogg’s Bunker Hill Company fell victim to the changing political and economic realities of the 1980s.

Conclusion

At the time of its closure, the Bunker Hill Company boasted the only single-site facility in the United States that possessed the integrated capacity to produce base precious metals—primarily lead, zinc, and silver, but also cadmium and antimonial lead. Company plants included the lead smelter, the zinc plant, and the silver refinery, along with sulfuric acid and fertilizer plants. Bunker Hill accounted for about 17 percent of U.S. primary lead production, 15 percent of refined slab zinc production, and 15 percent of refined silver production.1 Bunker Hill operated the largest lead smelter in the world. The shutdown of such a major producer sent shock waves through the nonferrous industry, and the economic impact on Idaho was dramatic. Threats of closure had been a part of the Bunker Hill business climate for so long that most Kellogg residents viewed the situation with disbelief and felt certain that it would only be a matter of time before the Bunker Hill would reopen. They were mistaken, and more than twenty years later, the Kellogg economy has yet to recover. On May 26, 1996, explosions blasted the tall stacks at the zinc plant and lead smelter, symbolizing the finality of the plant closure and the end of Bunker Hill’s dominance of the Silver Valley. Thousands witnessed this final act and mourned the demise of a local landmark and the industry it represented.2 Silver Valley residents remain divided when it comes to assessing the legacy of the Bunker Hill Company. Opinions among former company employees range from the positive and defensive—“No credit is ever given to the Company for the thousands of good paying jobs that this

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Sign outside of Kellogg, Idaho. (Album 2, picture 1, courtesy Kellogg Public Library, Kellogg, Idaho.)

once great mining and smelting complex provided, nor for the metals produced that were needed by our modern society, nor for the good community deeds this large employer provided in its 94 year life, and most certainly not for the great effort made to handle the environmental problems associated with its operations”—to a harsh indictment: “The physical details of my work and of Silver Valley life, the dilapidation of poverty, the scrubby hills with growth-stunted pines and strangled brush life, the choking industrial smoke and smog, and the befouled gray river running through the middle of town were outward signs of inward realities: sadness, rage, shame, cynicism, neglect, and resignation.”3 In fact, both assessments have elements of truth, and the wide division between them speaks volumes about mining and its impact not just on the Coeur d’Alene mining district but in the American West in general. Former workers and their families point to Bunker Hill’s accomplishments and the company’s contributions to the U.S. economy. At the

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time of its closure, the company had established itself at the pinnacle of the American mining industry. It boasted not just production records but technological innovations and creative management practices. For almost seventy years, members of the Bradley and Easton families had maintained close connections with the Silver Valley and company employees. This family dynasty in management was mirrored in many Kellogg-area families in which several generations owed their livelihoods to Bunker Hill. Geography added to an insularity that prompted associations between classes that would not have been possible in a different setting. Although there was never any doubt that the Bunker Hill management viewed workers in a certain light, and the same was true of workers’ ideas regarding their managers, the two groups shared the valley, its public schools, its churches, and its outlook on many levels. In some ways, the Bunker Hill tale represents American industry during the twentieth century. Mining engineers Frederick Bradley and Stanly Easton and their successors applied new technology and innovative processes to difficult industrial challenges. They and the cadre of engineers and technical experts they employed succeeded in keeping the mine operating for an inordinately long period of time. They were able to add the lead and zinc production facilities, pioneer mining mechanization, and develop purer grades of metals that were an integral part of U.S. economic development. Of course, none of the Bunker Hill achievements would have been possible without the efforts of workers, who, at considerable risk to their health and even lives, toiled at the huge company complex. Workers took inordinate pride in their ability to face the considerable dangers mining and smelting presented. A part of their very identity was tied up in ideas of masculinity and toughness that also informed labor relations. Since the Bunker Hill Company was the major employer, workplace relationships had an impact on the entire community as well. Decades after the events transpired, when workers discuss the 1960 strike, the Sunshine fire, the Gulf Resources takeover, or even their everyday work lives, their memories carry a considerable emotional investment. The classic labor-management confrontation—management seeking to control the workforce as a strategy for maximizing profits and workers fighting valiantly and continuously to maintain control over their lives and work—is a dominant theme of Bunker Hill history. Workers turned to labor unions to provide an institutional framework and support for

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their position, and Bunker Hill history exemplifies the salient themes of American labor history. A decades-long history of labor conflict informed Bunker Hill managers’ decisions. Managers and workers strived to make Kellogg a good community in which to live and work. Though fostering a satisfied workforce was one motivation for the company, the reality was that managers and workers alike benefited from efforts to improve the Kellogg quality of life. Bunker Hill sponsored the local branch of the YMCA, contributed to the construction and operation of local churches, and provided financial support to recreational activities. The company subsidized area schools, the hospital, and various youth activities. Bunker Hill officials worked to foster patriotic zeal during both world wars, and, during times of crisis, the company often served as a rallying point. When the complex closed, Kellogg lost 80 percent of its tax base, and the community infrastructure continues to suffer. The Gulf Resources takeover in 1968 marked a pivotal point in Bunker Hill history from several perspectives. Though local managers tried to maintain a positive attitude regarding the new Texas bosses, changes rocked Kellogg. Both managers and workers resented the absentee Gulf officials—despite protests to the contrary, neither group ever really trusted that the Texas men had Bunker Hill’s best interests as a first priority. There is no doubt that in the wake of the 1973 baghouse fire, Houston officials made a conscious decision to continue operation. During the eighteen months that followed, the smelter spewed over six hundred tons of lead over the twenty-one-square-mile area that surrounds the smelter. Health effects to people living in the vicinity continue to be felt.4 The Bunker Hill closure has left a bad taste in the mouths of Silver Valley folks, particularly after Gulf moved assets overseas (primarily to commercial real estate investments in New Zealand) and then declared bankruptcy, leaving former workers with pension and insurance difficulties and robbing the environmental cleanup of vital funds. Though area residents often speak nostalgically of Bunker Hill, the same is seldom true for Gulf Resources. In 1983 the Environmental Protection Agency named the Bunker Hill site to its Superfund list, and cleanup efforts are ongoing amidst continuing controversy. The Army Corps of Engineers is engaged in supervising the largest revegetation contract in the United States, possibly the world, designed to restore plants to the one thousand barren acres that surround

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the former Bunker Hill site.5 Concerns regarding the impact of years of smelter operation on the health of Kellogg-area residents continue to plague Silver Valley residents, and a study of two thousand north Idaho individuals (now in their twenties and thirties) who were victims of lead exposure is ongoing.6 Several campsites along the Coeur d’Alene River have been closed due to high lead levels.7 The Coeur d’Alene Tribe has regained control of the lower part of Lake Coeur d’Alene and is now a major player in the cleanup activities—a decided change from the beginning of Bunker Hill history, when company officials totally ignored tribal interests.8 Whereas government estimates of cleanup costs range between $50 and $100 million, the Tribe places the cost at $1.2 billion.9 Nowhere is the contest over what happened in Kellogg more evident than in opinions on the Environmental Protection Agency’s cleanup of the Silver Valley. Sentiments can be easily observed today when walking through the local area and noting that neighboring houses display signs that oppose or support the EPA. The story of Silver Valley activist Barbara Miller is the best illustration. Miller formed the Silver Valley People’s Coalition to examine the long-term effects of pollution on area residents. Her actions made her a pariah in many quarters. In 2001, the Ford Foundation announced that Miller was one of thirty-six finalists (from three thousand nominees) for its prestigious recognition of community leaders who have made a contribution to their locality. Thirty-five of the finalists enjoyed strong community endorsements. The Ford Foundation was shocked when letters critical of Miller and against the potential $130,000 grant began to pour into its offices. Many of the letters were in response to an editorial written by Dan Drewry for the Shoshone County News, in which he proclaimed, “We as a community know that Barbara Miller and her claque represent a tiny, disaffected minority.” He urged readers to write to the Foundation in opposition to the grant. “You have a chance today to help choke off the stream of lies, half-truths and distortions that emanate from the organization.” Although Miller won the award, her local popularity has not increased.10 In fact, although historians and other observers of situations similar to the Bunker Hill story note resentment toward the corporation as a result of the economic decline, in the Silver Valley, residents tend to focus their anger on the federal government and especially the EPA. The government has had to provide extra security for public hearings on Superfund cleanup in order to guarantee the safety of officials. Residents claim the agency has exaggerated the situation and, as a result, has

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handicapped efforts at economic revitalization. Even the EPA calls the Silver Valley Superfund project “unusually contentious.” While most regions want more cleanup, Coeur d’Alene mining district residents argue for less and accuse the federal government of meddling where it does not belong.11 When Noah Kellogg (and his donkey) discovered the Bunker Hill outcropping in 1885, it is doubtful that anyone could have predicted the long production history the mine would enjoy. For almost one hundred years the company and the Kellogg community were at the center of the Idaho economy and made vital contributions to the nation as well. Whether or not these accomplishments were worth the costs remains open to debate. However, few would not agree that the Bunker Hill was “much more than a hole in the ground.”

Notes

INTRODUCTION 1. Rickard, A History, 340. 2. By the 1970s, Bunker Hill accounted for about 17 percent of U.S. primary lead production, 15 percent of refined slab zinc production, and 15 percent of refined silver production. It was the largest lead smelter in the world. Bunker Hill “Description of Business,” April 1980, Manuscript Group (MG) No. 367, Box 13, Folder 211, Bunker Hill Mining Company Records [hereafter cited as BHR], Special Collections, University of Idaho Library. 3. Limerick, Legacy of Conquest, 99. 4. Chandler, Visible Hand, 346 and Appendix A. 5. William Robbins, Colony and Empire. 6. Chapman, “Uncle Bunker.” 7. See Rohe, “Man and the Land,” 299–338; Francaviglia, Hard Places; Ryden, Mapping the Invisible Landscape; Morrissey, Mental Territories. 8. Worster, Under Western Skies, 13. 9. See William Cronon, “Kennecott Journey: The Paths Out of Town,” in Under an Open Sky, ed. by Cronon, Miles, and Gitlin, 28–51; White, “It’s Your Misfortune; Meinig, Interpretation, especially “Reading the Landscape,” 195–244. 10. See Francaviglia, Hard Places, 70–78; McCarthy and Guthmen, “Special Issue,” 71. 11. Malone, “Collapse,” 455–64; Robbins, “In Pursuit,” 277–93. CHAPTER 1 1. Stoll, Silver Strike, 51–156 and introduction by Katherine G. Aiken; Magnuson, Coeur d’Alene Diary, 16–19; Charles Wilson, The Bunker Hill Company:

212

NOTES TO PAGES 5–11

A Mine and Its Men, 7–17 (hereafter cited as A Mine and Its Men), MG No. 367, Box 77, Folder 1751, BHR. 2. Spokesman Review, May 25, 1935. 3. Wardner, Jim Wardner, 23. 4. Rickard, A History, 320–22. 5. Typewritten copy of handwritten Buck Statement, June 23, 1886, Box 74, Folder 1557, BHR; Pacific Reporter 13 (February 1887): 350–51. A popular Kelloggarea poem notes, “When you talk about the Coeur d’Alenes and all their wealth untold / Don’t forget to mention Kellogg’s Jack, who did the wealth unfold.” 6. Wilson, A Mine and Its Men, 21. 7. Ibid., 14. 8. See Rickard, From Mine to Battleship, 20; and F. W. Bradley to stockholder W. Nightingale, February 15, 1895, (Yellow Press Copy), Box 7, Folder 67, BHR. 9. D. C. Corbin, “Recollections of a Pioneer Railroad Builder,” Washington Historical Quarterly l (January 1907): 43–44. 10. Kensel, “Inland Empire Mining,” 88; Fahey, Inland Empire, 135–36. 11. J. W. Gwinn, “The Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company,” Mining Congress Journal (November 1931): 600. 12. Ibid., 28–29. 13. Livingston-Little, An Economic History, 325; Livingston-Little, “Bunker Hill and Sullivan,” 37. 14. Richard H. Peterson, “Simeon Gannett Reed,” 3. 15. Derickson, Workers’ Health, 86; Coeur d’Alene Miner, July 12, 1893. See also Spokesman Review, August 22, 1935; Magnuson, Coeur d’Alene Diary, 136–37; Wardner, Jim Wardner, 57–58, 65. 16. Clement to J. H. Hammond, January 15, 1892, Box 7, Folder 63, BHR. 17. Livingston-Little, “Bunker Hill and Sullivan,” 39; Hammond, Autobiography, 189; Richard H. Peterson, Bonanza Kings, 97. 18. Hammond, Autobiography, 495. See also Spence, Mining Engineers. 19. See Derickson, Workers’ Health, 5–9. 20. See Wyman, Hard Rock Epic, 85–107. 21. Bradley to N. H. Harris, March 7, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR. See Magnuson, Coeur d’Alene Diary, 148; Nye, Electrifying America, 204. 22. Fahey, Ballyhoo Bonanza, 70–71; Grover, Debaters and Dynamiters, 13; Lingenfelter, Hardrock Miners, 199. 23. See Cowan, A Social History, 179–84. 24. Phipps, “Bull Pen” (Ph.D. diss.), 13–14; Grover, Debaters and Dynamiters, 12; Lingenfelter, Hardrock Miners, 18–27; Limerick, Legacy of Conquest, 116–18. 25. Robert Wayne Smith, Coeur d’Alene Mining War, 20–21. Smith’s account is the standard one of the 1892 labor conflicts in the Coeur d’Alene mining district. See Derickson, Workers’ Health, for a discussion of the hospital issue. For a

NOTES TO PAGES 11–14

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discussion of management attitudes toward workers’ responsibility see Wyman, Hard Rock Epic, 115–45. 26. Bradley to Harris, November 28, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66; Bradley to Harris, May 15, 1896, Box 8, Folder 70, BHR. 27. Rickard, Bunker Hill Enterprise. This publication provides a detailed discussion of technical aspects of the Bunker Hill and Sullivan operations. Labor costs were the largest expenditures for mining companies. For costs to the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining Company, see Frederick Burbidge to Harris, January 5, 1897, Box 8, Folder 73, and Burbidge to Bradley, January 8, 1898, Box 8, Folder 77, BHR. 28. Bradley to Harris, February 10, 1893, Box 7, Folder 3, BHR. Bunker Hill Company correspondence contains several references to management’s perceptions of class differences. Nonminers were referred to as “the better class.” The management referred to the workers as “a class that we know to be revengeful, unreliable, and unscrupulous,” and also believed that “some of them cannot stand prosperity and some cannot stand continued hard work. They either lay off for a spree or for a rest.” Burbidge pointed out that Pinkerton detectives were often discovered because they were “above the average in intelligence” and thus easily distinguished from the miners, Bradley to Harris, January 17, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67; Bradley to Harris, May 1 1894, Box 7, Folder 65; Burbidge to Bradley, January 23, 1899, Box 8, Folder 83, BHR. 29. Phipps, “Bull Pen” (Ph.D. diss.), 18; Smith, Coeur d’Alene Mining War, 42–43; Richard H. Peterson, Bonanza Kings, 68–70. 30. Thirteen men eventually received prison terms in Boise’s Ada County jail for violating the court injunction, and four more men served federal prison terms for conspiracy in relation to the Frisco mill explosions. For discussions of these events and the role of the Western Federation of Miners, see Dubofsky, We Shall Be All, 28–35; Schwantes, Pacific Northwest, 239–43; Schwantes, In Mountain Shadows, 155–57. 31. Victor Clement, mine manager, to company president Hammond, telegrams, July 11, 1892, and July 12, 1892, Box 7, Folder 63; Clement to Bunker Hill Company, telegram, July 12, 1892, Box 7, Folder 63, BHR. 32. Clement to Hammond, telegram, July 15, 1892, Box 7, Folder 63; Clement to William Crocker, San Francisco banker and major Bunker Hill stockholder, telegram, July 19, 1892, Box 7, Folder 63, BHR. 33. Hammond, Autobiography, 495. See also Spence, Mining Engineers. 34. Engineering and Mining Journal 58 (December 1, 1894): 515 (hereafter cited as EMJ). 35. Bradley was largely responsible for the company’s survival and success. Under his leadership, the Bunker Hill Company paid its first dividend and, by the end of the decade, had a favorable cash flow. Wilson, A Mine and Its Men, 57; Rickard, A History, 324. Bradley’s contract was confirmed. Executive Committee, Bunker Hill Board of Directors, March 20, 1893, oversize (o.s.) Folder No. 1, BHR.

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NOTES TO PAGES 14–19

36. EMJ 140 (August 1939): 78–79. For the importance of engineers to early American mining, see Ochs, “ American Mining Engineers,” 278–301. 37. James Houghteling to Harris, June 16, 1894, Box 9, Folder 101, BHR. 38. See Lindley, A Treatise. 39. Rickard, A History, 362. 40. Fahey, Ballyhoo Bonanza, 153. 41. See Bradley to Harris, December 22, 1895, Box 8, Folder 69. 42. In 1898, Bunker Hill brought suit against the Last Chance Co. EMJ 66 (October 22, 1898): 497. 43. Fahey, Ballyhoo Bonanza, 152. 44. EMJ 57 (June 2, 1897): 517; EMJ 54 (March 17, 1894): 254. 45. Bradley to Harris, November 16, 1895, Box 8, Folder 69 (expendituresper-ton chart), BHR. 46. Bradley to Harris, January 24, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64; Bradley to Harris, May 26, 1894, Box 7, Folder 65, BHR.; EMJ 58 (June 30, 1894): 616 (tramway had to be repaired). 47. C. R. Corning, consulting engineer, to Harris, July 14, 1896, Box 9, Folder 93, BHR. 48. Burbidge to Bradley, December 2, 1898, Box 8, Folder 82, BHR. See Burbidge to Bradley, Box 8, Folder 80, BHR. 49. Burbidge to Bradley, December 15, 1897, Box 8, Folder 76; Burbidge to Bradley, April 2, 1899, Box 8, Folder 84; Burbidge to Bradley, August 1, 1898, Box 8, Folder 80, BHR. 50. Fahey, Days of the Hercules, 53–55. 51. See Bradley to Hermon Butler, December 6, 1898, Box 9, Folder 100; Charles Counselman to Bradley, December 15, 1898, Box 9, Folder 101; Executive Committee, Bunker Hill Board of Directors minutes, December 5, 1898, o.s. Folder No. 2, BHR. 52. EMJ 76 (September 5, 1903): 365; Bradley affidavit, American Smelting and Refining Company v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, Equity Case No. 7555, U.S. District Court for the District of Oregon, 8–10 (bound copy in BH records); Bradley to Hermon Butler, December 6, 1898, Box 9, Folder 100; Annual Report for the Year Ending May 31, 1899, 3, BHR. 53. Burbidge to Bradley, December 15, 1900, Box 9, Folder 89; Burbidge to Bradley, August 29, 1899, Box 8, Folder 85; Burbidge to Bradley, September 3, 1898, Box 8, Folder 81, BHR. 54. Bradley to Harris, February 19, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR. 55. Bradley to Harris, October 21, 1895, Box 8, Folder 69; Bradley to Harris, February 23, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64; Bradley to Harris, January 23, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR.

NOTES TO PAGES 19–22

215

56. Burbidge to Bradley, May 1, 1898, Box 8, Folder 79; and see Bradley to Harris, January 8, 1896, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR. 57. Bradley to Harris, January 9, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67; Bradley to Harris, January 23, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR. 58. EMJ 57 (March 20, 1894): 230; Bunker Hill to Heyburn, December 6, 1895, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. See Hyde, From Hell to Heaven. 59. Bunker Hill to Heyburn, December 6, 1895, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. 60. Coroner’s jury report, Bradley to Harris, February 19, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR. 61. Ibid. 62. “Driving Out the Dagoes,” Spokane Chronicle, February 6, 1894. 63. Bradley to Harris, June 10, 1894, Box 7, Folder 65; Bradley to Harris, December 6, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66; Bradley to Mrs. Curran, July 16, 1894, Box 7, Folder 65, BHR. 64. Joseph Korbel, Austria-Hungarian consul in San Francisco, to Bradley, February 10, 1897, Box 9, Folder 98, BHR. See Bunker Hill Mining and Concentrating Company v. Oberder. 65. Bradley to Harris, February 10, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. 66. EMJ 57 (February 1, 1894): 159; Bradley to McConnell, March 10, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64; Bradley to Harris, February 13, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64; agitators Irish “without exception,” Bradley to F. R. Moore, November 24, 1894, Box 7, Folder 86, BHR. Coeur d’Alene district wages were high in comparison to other work situations. According to Wyman, Hard Rock Epic, the average daily wage for nonfarm labor between 1870 and 1899 was one dollar and four cents to one dollar and fifty-seven cents, p. 35. 67. Bradley to Harris, February 17, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR. 68. See Fahey, Ballyhoo Bonanza, 84; EMJ 58 (July 28, 1894): 84. A grand jury was unable to locate anyone willing to testify as to the murderer’s identity. 69. Gov. William McConnell to Bradley, December 5, 1894; Bradley to Harris, November 16, 1894, both Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. See John H. M. Laslett, Labor and the Left, 244–45. Their opponents sometimes referred to People’s party members of the Miners’ Union as “dynopops,” a derogatory term combining the words “dynamiters” and “Populists.” For the Democratic platform, see “Platform Adopted,” Idaho Daily Statesman, May 27, 1892, 1. Terrorized Bradley to Harris, July 25, 1894, Box 7, Folder 65, BHR. 70. Bradley to Harris, November 9, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. 71. Gaboury, “From Statehouse to Bullpen,” 16. 72. Bradley to Harris, November 23, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. 73. Ibid. 74. Ibid. 75. Bradley to Harris, November 24, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR.

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NOTES TO PAGES 23–26

76. EMJ 57 (December 8, 1894): 529. 77. On this subject see correspondence from McConnell to Bradley, December 6, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, and to Harris, December 8, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66. See also Bradley to McConnell, December 17, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. 78. Bradley to Harris, March 3, 1894, Box 7, Folder 64, BHR. 79. Bradley to Harris, January 22, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67, BHR. 80. Bradley to Harris, November 24, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66; Bradley to Harris, telegram, November 23, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. 81. Bradley to Harris, November 26, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. 82. Bradley to Harris, February 8, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67, BHR. Bradley informed Harris of a case in which the union had expelled an APA member and noted sarcastically, “The jurymen, judge, and prosecutor were all Catholics” (Bradley to Harris, April 5, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67, BHR). 83. Bradley to Harris, April 4, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67; Bradley to Harris, March 8, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67, BHR. 84. Bradley to Harris, April 4, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67. See also Burbidge to Bradley, April 4, 1895, Box 7, Folder 67, BHR. 85. Bradley to Harris, July 9, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68. McConnell, writing to Bradley on July 6, apologized for being short of rifles, but indicated he would send the carbines, noting, “These are guns for short range work.” McConnell to Bradley, July 6, 1895, and Bradley to McConnell, July 13, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, BHR. 86. Burbidge to Bradley, June 9, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, and Bradley to Harris, June 22, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, BHR. 87. Bradley to Harris, August 25, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, BHR. Spokesman Review, June 25, 1895, 8. 88. Bradley to Harris, June 22, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, BHR. 89. McConnell to Bradley, June 28, 1895; Box 8, Folder 68; McConnell to Bradley, May 13, 1896, Box 8, Folder 70, BHR. 90. Bradley to Harris, July 1, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, BHR. 91. Bradley to Harris, July 11, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, BHR. 92. Bradley to Harris, July 18, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68, BHR. 93. Bradley to Harris, July 26, 1895, Box 8, Folder 68. D. O. Mills to Harris, July 26, 1895, “Pleased to hear that Bradley has been so wide-awake as to be prepared”; Mills to Harris, July 23, 1895, “You and Superintendent Bradley should be congratulated on this preparation for any trouble,” both Box 9, Folder 102, BHR. 94. Bradley to Harris, May 11, 1896, Box 8, Folder 70, BHR. 95. McConnell to Bradley, May 13, 1896, Box 8, Folder 70, BHR. 96. Bradley to Harris, May 11, 1896, Box 8, Folder 70, BHR. In two letters to Harris on that date, Bradley tried to convince Harris that a Pinkerton detective was not necessary, especially the Scotsman Harris had in mind. Bradley insisted a successful agent should be Irish and a skilled miner. Bradley concluded, “In no

NOTES TO PAGES 26–30

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event do we want a Cornishman.” Bradley to Harris, May 15, 1896, Box 8, Folder 70, BHR. 97. Bradley to Harris, May 29, 1896, Box 8, Folder 70, BHR. 98. Burbidge to Bradley, February 18, 1898, Box 8, Folder 77; Burbidge to Bradley, July 28, 1898, Box 8, Folder 80. Burbidge suggested to Bradley that giving the franchise to women would add to the “law and order” vote, both because the women would tend to be sympathetic and because married men tended to be older and more likely to vote conservatively. Burbidge to Bradley, March 14, 1898, Box 8, Folder 78, BHR. 99. Joseph McDonald, manager of Helena and Frisco Mining Company, to Burbidge, March 14, 1898, Box 8, Folder 78, BHR. 100. Burbidge to Bradley, March 21, 1898, Box 8, Folder 78, BHR. 101. Burbidge to Bradley, September 29, 1898, and October 5, 1898, both Box 8, Folder 81, BHR. 102. Burbidge to Bradley, April 16, 1898; Burbidge to Bradley, April 25, 1898, both Box 8, Folder 79, BHR. 103. Burbidge to Bradley, April 24, 1898, Box 8, Folder 77, BHR. When mill workers used the reduced workforce as a bargaining chip and asked for a wage increase, Burbidge denied the request because he feared it would only lead to further union demands. 104. Burbidge to Bradley, April 7, 1898, Box 8, Folder 78, BHR. The Bunker Hill Company did not enjoy much success in utilizing detectives. See Bradley to Burbidge, August 23, 1898, Box 8, Folder 80; Burbidge to Bradley, October 5, 1898, Box 8, Folder 81; Burbidge to Alex Granger, October 27, 1898, Box 8, Folder 81, BHR. 105. “Sheriff Defends Union Men,” Spokesman Review, April 27, 1899, 1. 106. Ibid.; “Its Bulwark an Injunction,” Spokesman Review, April 29, 1899, 1. 107. Jensen, Heritage of Conflict, is the standard work. See Lukas, Big Trouble. For a Socialist perspective, see Job Harriman, Class War in Idaho. Ultimately, the U.S. Army requested an affidavit that the weapons had been destroyed. Brig. Gen. A. R. Buffington to Idaho governor Frank W. Hunt, October 2, 1901, Gov. Frank W. Hunt files, Governor’s Papers, Box No. 1, Idaho State Archives, Idaho State Historical Society. See also Phipps, “Bull Pen” (Ph.D. diss.), 16–34; Thiessen and Schwantes, “Industrial Violence,” 83–90. See EMJ 67 (May 6, 1899): 539 for a management perspective and Idaho State Tribune (WFM paper) May 3, 1899 for a labor perspective. 108. Western Federation of Miners history, Box 1, Easton Papers, University of Idaho Special Collections. 109. Spokesman Review, May 5, 1899. 110. Wardner News, May 6, 1899. 111. Hutton, Modern Inquisition in Idaho. Hutton’s husband, Al, was the train engineer. Not long after May Hutton’s scathing indictment of the martial law

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NOTES TO PAGES 30–33

episode, the Huttons struck it rich as partners in the Hercules Mine at Burke, Idaho. EMJ 67 (May 20, 1899): 599. For union denials of responsibility for the bombing, see EMJ 67 (May 13, 1899): 568. See San Francisco Examiner, June 22, 1899. 112. Gov. Steunenberg to Eliju Root, telegram, September 30, 1899; Root to Steunenberg, telegram, September 30, 1899, Coeur d’Alene Mining Wars vertical file, Idaho State Historical Society; see Taylor, Racial Frontier, regarding African American troops; Report of the Industrial Commission on the Relations and Conditions of Capital and labor Employed in the Mining Industry (Washington, D.C., 1901), 12, 535–36. Hawley, History of Idaho, Vol. 1, 254; Spokesman Review, July 11, 1899, 1. 113. See Taylor, Racial Frontier, 187–89. 114. Following the removal of these officials, Gov. Steunenberg appointed two Democrats and one silver Republican to the commission, which in turn selected a Republican as county sheriff. Spokesman Review, July 11, 1899, July 12, 1899; Bunker Hill reported these developments with pleasure to stockholders. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1899, Box 5, Folder 10, p. 2, BHR; “The conduct of the sheriff was such as to make him an accessory to those crimes and I therefore brought proceedings to remove him.” Samuel H. Hays, attorney general, “Report to the Governor of Idaho in the Insurrection in Shoshone County Idaho. April 29, 1899, the Coeur d’Alene District,” IHS vertical file. 115. San Francisco Examiner, July 21, 1899; Wardner News, May 13, 1899. 116. See Walter Licht, Industrializing America, 174–75. 117. History of Western Federation of Miners, Easton Papers. 118. EMJ 67 (July 8, 1899): 47; EMJ 69 (May 12, 1900): 568. 119. The company informed stockholders of the mill destruction in a May 4, 1899, letter, Box 9, Folder 102; O. W. Johnson to Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining Company, May 10, 1899, Box 9, Folder 102, BHR. 120. Hugh France maintained a cordial relationship with the company throughout his life. On the occasion of his death, in 1909, the company flew its flag at half-mast. Stanly Easton to Bradley, October 27, 1909; and October 30, 1909, BHR. Bartlett Sinclair’s proclamation, Wardner News, May 13, 1899. 121. EMJ 67 (June 10, 1899): 689 noted that only those men “opposed to the cruel and illegal antics of leaders of the Miners’ Union” received permits. 122. EMJ 68 (July 8, 1899): 47; EMJ 68 (September 2, 1899): 287; EMJ 67 (June 24, 1899): 769. 123. Bradley to Houghteling, August 19, 1899, Box 9, Folder 101, BHR; correspondence between James Hawley and Bradley, May 11 to June 14, 1900, Box 9, Folder 103, BHR; subsidy, Annual Report for the Year Ending May 31, 1902, 269, Box 5, Folder 21, BHR; Burbidge to Bradley, May 4, 1900, Box 9, Folder 87, BHR. 124. Burbidge to Granger, April 27, 1899, Box 8, Folder 84, BHR; operator report, April 20, 1901; operator report, May 3, 1901, both Box 1, Folder 1, Easton Papers.

NOTES TO PAGES 33–37

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125. W. S. Swain to Burbidge, May 11, 1902, BHR; operator report, April 8, 1901, Box 1, Folder 1, Easton Papers; Burbidge to Granger, April 27, 1899, Box 8, Folder 84, BHR. 126. Bradley to Houghteling, August 19, 1899, Box 9, Folder 101, BHR. The Bunker Hill share was seventy-five hundred dollars. 127. Burbidge to Hawley, July 28, 1898, Hawley Papers, Idaho State Historical Society; Lindley, in San Francisco, to Borah, August 8, 1899, Box 8, Borah Papers, Idaho State Historical Society; Hugh France, in Wardner, to Borah, November 7, 1899, Box 8, Borah Papers. 128. Butte Times, June 17, 1899. 129. Burbidge to Bradley, June 13, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88, BHR. 130. Burbidge to Bradley, June 22, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88, BHR. 131. U.S. Cong., House, Coeur d‘Alene Labor Troubles; Ibid., House Joint Resolution Document 24; Ibid., House Joint Resolution Document 1999; U.S. Cong., Senate, Coeur d’Alene Mining Troubles; Burbidge to Bradley, June 13, 1900, BHR. 132. When the Western Federation of Miners’ successor, the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers, sought to organize the Silver Valley during the 1930s, International Secretary-Treasurer James Robinson wrote a local worker that he hoped to deal with district operators, “particularly with the Bunker Hill and Sullivan outfit, as I am nursing a grievance of 35 years duration with that gang.” James Robinson to Henry Mitson, March 14, 1935, Box 367, Western Federation of Miners/International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers Papers, Western Historical Collections, Norlin Library, University of Colorado at Boulder. 133. Burbidge to Bradley, July 12, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88, BHR. 134. Bradley to Burbidge, May 18, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88; Burbidge to Bradley, July 23, 1900; Burbidge to Bradley, July 12, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88; Burbidge to Bradley, July 30, 1906, BHR. 135. EMJ 73 (May 10, 1902): 668; Bradley to Burbidge, September 12, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88, BHR. 136. This company program was so successful that by 1919 then-manager Stanly Easton could point to the large percentage of homeowners among Bunker Hill employees as a reason workers should vote against an impending strike. See “Message to Bunker Hill Employees on the Eve of the 1919 Strike vote,” August 5, 1919, Box 2, Folder 7, Easton Papers. 137. For a discussion of plans for construction of the Episcopal church in Kellogg (later named the Emmanuel Episcopal Church), see Bradley to Harris, November 11, 1894, Box 7, Folder 66, BHR. Bradley recounted the construction of the YMCA building in a letter to Easton, October 5, 1917, Box 10, Folder 130, BHR. 138. Burbidge to Bradley, July 29, 1899, Box 8, Folder 89 and January 27, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88, BHR.

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NOTES TO PAGES 37–44

139. Burbidge to Bradley, September 10, 1900; Burbidge to Bradley, November 8, 1900, Box 9, Folder 89, BHR; See Thomas P. Hughes, Networks of Power. 140. Cost to hook up with electricity, 12–15 Work Papers, Manager’s Report for the Fiscal Year Ending May 31, 1903, Box 5, Folder 21, BHR; Bradley to Burch, November 30, 1901, Box 9, Folder 92, BHR. 141. Burbidge to Granger, March 23, 1899, Box 8, Folder 83. EMJ 74 (October 18, 1902): 527. See Lindley to McBride and Folsom, attorneys, Washington, D.C., May 1, 1902, BHR. 142. Bradley to Burbidge, November 11, 1900, Box 9, Folder 89, BHR. 143. Burbidge to Bradley, May 25, 1900, Box 9, Folder 87, BHR. 144. Bradley to Burbidge, September 12, 1900, Box 9, Folder 103, BHR. 145. Bradley to Paul Babcock, December 22, 1900, Box 9, Folder 100, BHR. 146. “The Most Remarkable Event,” Manager’s Report for the Fiscal Year Ending May 31, 1903, Box 5, Folder 21, BHR; EMJ 76 (October 10, 1903): 552. CHAPTER 2 1. Idaho State Grange Bulletin, October 1, 1924. According to Derickson, Workers’ Health, 10, Bunker Hill paid its 177th dividend in June 1912 and, at that point, had paid investors over $13 million on their aggregate investment of slightly more than $3 million. 2. Cochran, Business in American Life, 145. 3. EMJ 79 (May 4, 1905): 880. 4. See, for example, Easton to Bradley, March 3, 1907, Box 10, Folder 109, BHR. 5. Bradley to Easton, December 28, 1906, Box 10, Folder 108; Easton to Bradley, December 27, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR. See Hovis and Mouat, “Miners, Engineers,” 429–56. 6. Easton to Bradley, at Treadwell, Alaska, July 21, 1909, Box 10, Folder 113, BHR. 7. Easton to Bradley, July 17, 1920, Box 10, Folder 141, BHR. 8. Easton to Bradley, telegram, April 30, 1908, Box 10, Folder 112, BHR. Coded telegrams in the Bunker Hill papers often include handwritten translations. 9. The Bradley–Easton engineering approach was in keeping with developments throughout American Industry. See Pursell, American Technology; and Cowan, A Social History. 10. Easton to Bradley, February 7, 1911, Box 10, Folder 117; Bradley to Easton, February 25, 1911, Box 10, Folder 117; Bradley to Easton, March 15, 1911, Box 10, Folder 117; Easton to Bradley, September 30, 1916, Box 10, Folder 126, BHR. 11. Easton to P. R. Bradley, at Treadwell, September 30, 1916, Box 10, Folder 126, BHR.

NOTES TO PAGES 45–50

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12. Bradley’s stenographer to Easton, September 21, 1912, Box 10, Folder 119, BHR. 13. Easton to Bradley, April 23, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107; Easton to Bradley, April 25, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107; J. S. Wallace to Easton, April 23, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107; Bradley to Easton, May 2, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107, BHR. 14. Easton to Bradley, June 20, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107; Easton to Bradley, May 31, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107; Bradley to Easton, July 3, 1906, Box 10, Folder 108, BHR. 15. T. A. Carson to Bradley, March 17, 1913, Box 10, Folder 120, BHR. 16. Bradley to Easton, March 24, 1915, Box 10, Folder 123, BHR. 17. EMJ (February 25, 1904): 331. 18. Easton to C. W. Evers, October 5, 1905, Box 10, Folder 106; Evers to Easton, October 6, 1905, Box 10, Folder 106, BHR. 19. Easton to Miss Gertrude Beals, secretary, National Civic Federation, January 15, 1910, Box 10, Folder 115, BHR. 20. EMJ 78 (September 15, 1904): 419. 21. Easton to Bradley, December 13, 1906, Box 10, Folder 108; Bradley to Easton, December 13, 1906, Box 10, Folder 108; Easton to Bradley, December 18, 1906, Box 10, Folder 108, BHR. 22. Wilson, A Mine and Its Men, 8–10. 23. Ibid. 24. Easton to Bradley, handwritten note, February 27, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107, BHR. 25. See Schwantes, In Mountain Shadows, 159–60. The most comprehensive discussion of the entire episode is by Lukas, Big Trouble, especially 245–71. 26. Hawley to Easton, February 27, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107. See the pamphlet for the dedication of a memorial to Steunenberg in front of the Idaho State Capitol, dedicated in 1929, published by the Capitol News Publishing Company, Boise. 27. Bradley to Easton, June 1, 1907, Box 10, Folder 109; Bradley to Easton, June 18, 1907, Box 10, Folder 109, BHR. 28. Borah Papers. 29. Idaho Magazine 3 (April 1906): 221. 30. Special report of No. 15, Spokane, Wash., May 7, 1906. According to the report, one lot of guns was shipped to Mullan in a crate with fruit trees and taken to “a saloon man’s house and unpacked.” Box 1, Folder 3, Easton Papers. 31. No. 142 to Easton, March 13, 1905, Box 1, Folder 3, Easton Papers. 32. Thiel detective report to Easton, April 19, 1906, Box 1, Folder 3, Easton Papers. 33. John L. Boyne to Easton, January 9, 1906, Box 1, Folder 5, Easton Papers. 34. No. 24 to Easton, February 13, 1906, Box 75, Folder 1578, BHR. 35. Thiel No. B108 to Easton, January 9, 1906, Box 75, Folder 1580, BHR.

222

NOTES TO PAGES 50–55

36. Pinkerton detective bill for month of January, January 31, 1906, Box 75, Folder 1578, BHR. 37. Pinkerton No. 5 report, August 29, 1906, Box 75, Folder 1578, BHR. 38. Thiel detective No. B108 to Easton, March 26, 1906, Box 75, Folder 1580, BHR. 39. No. 66 to Easton, November 30, 1905, BHR. 40. Thiel No. B108 to Easton, March 31, 1906, Box 75, Folder 1850, BHR; Operative No. 57 to Easton, October 31, 1906; October 20, 1906; October 26, 1906, Box 1, Folder 3, Easton Papers. 41. Easton to Bradley, March 28, 1907, Box 10, Folder 107, BHR. 42. Easton to Bradley, June 1, 1907, Box 10, Folder 109, BHR. 43. Myron Folsom to Easton, June 3, 1907; Easton to Bradley, June 16, 1907, Box 10, Folder 109, BHR. 44. Easton to Bradley, December 21, 1907, Box 10, Folder 10, BHR. 45. Easton to Bradley, at Treadwell, September 13, 1912, Box 10, Folder 119, BHR. 46. Easton to Bradley, September 28, 1912, Box 10, Folder 119, BHR. 47. Easton to Bradley, July 6, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121, BHR. 48. Easton to Bradley, November 7, 1912, Box 10, Folder 119; Easton to Bradley, May 13, 1912, Box 10, Folder 121, BHR. 49. Easton to Bradley, May 13, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121, BHR. Easton estimated the taxes would be $4,377.73. 50. Easton to Bradley, January 28, 1913, Box 10, Folder 120; Easton to Bradley, July 22, 1912, Box 10, Folder 121; Easton to Bradley, August 10, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121; G. D. Abbott, assistant secretary to Easton, August 8, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121, BHR. 51. Easton to Abbott, August 22, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121; Abbott to Easton, telegram, September 8, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121; Bradley to Easton, July 24, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121, BHR; EMJ 94 (October 5, 1912): 665. 52. Easton to Bradley, April 20, 1917, Box 10, Folder 128; Easton to Bradley, April 25, 1917, Box 10, Folder 128, BHR. 53. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1911, 99. 54. Easton to Bradley, March 19, 1909, Box 20, Folder 113; Bradley to Easton, February 28, 1918, Box 11, Folder 131; Easton to Bradley, December 27, 1917, Box 10, Folder 130, BHR. 55. Easton to Bradley, October 10, 1907, Box 10, Folder 110, BHR. 56. Easton to Bradley, November 13, 1907, Box 10, Folder 110; Easton to Bradley, December 5, 1905, Box 10, Folder 110; Bradley to Easton, February 25, 1908, Box 10, Folder 111; Bradley to Easton, March 23, 1908, Box 10, Folder 111, all BHR. 57. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1913, 73; Inland Herald (Spokane, Wash.), February 21, 1911.

NOTES TO PAGES 55–59

223

58. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1911, 99. 59. Cochran, Business in American Life, 161. 60. Bradley to Easton, January 13, 1916, Box 10, Folder 120, BHR. 61. Bradley to Easton, October 5, 1917, Box 10, Folder 130, BHR. 62. EMJ 114 (November 18, 1922): 894. 63. EMJ 101 (February 12, 1916): 331; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1915, 5. 64. Easton to Bradley, January 12, 1917, Box 10, Folder 127, BHR. 65. Derickson, Workers’ Health, 36; Aggregate data on accidents unequivocally confirms the impression created by these anecdotal reports that hard-rock mining was an exceedingly dangerous industry. From 1911 to 1920, the industry suffered 3.8 deaths per one thousand workers. See Hyde, From Hell to Heaven. 66. Fred Mill, attorney, Robertson, Mill & Rosenhaupt, to Folsom, writing on behalf of Dan McDermott, January 22, 1910, Box 74, Folder 1572; Easton to Bradley, at Treadwell, July 9, 1912, Box 10, Folder 119, both BHR; Coeur d’Alene Press, October 25, 1912. 67. Easton to Bradley, July 9, 1912, Box 10, Folder 119; BHR. Causes of the eighteen fatalities were: fall from ground, 7; caught in mill machinery, 2; fall from manway, 1; fall down shaft, 1; skip or caught by skip, 1; electrocuted by trolley wire, 3; explosion of creosote tanks, 1. 68. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1912, 2. 69. Easton to Bradley, May 20, 1912, Box 10, Folder 118; Bradley to Mrs. Hughes, May 24, 1912, Box 10, Folder 118; Bradley to Easton, May 24, 1912, Box 10, Folder 118, BHR. 70. Easton to Folsom, December 27, 1909, Box 74, Folder 1572, BHR. 71. Ibid. 72. Easton to Bradley, June 21, 1907, Box 10, Folder 109; Folsom to Easton, January 30, 1909, Box 10, Folder 113, BHR. 73. Easton to Bradley, October 11, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121; Easton to Bradley, October 31, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121; Bradley to Easton, October 15, 1913, Box 10, folder 121, BHR. 74. Easton to Bradley, October 11, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121; Easton to Bradley, October 15, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121, BHR; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1912, 18. The Idaho experience was typical of many attempts at Workman’s Compensation legislation during the progressive period. See Lankton, Cradle to Grave, 135–36. 75. Easton to Bradley, February 3, 1917, Box 10, Folder 127, BHR. 76. Easton to Bradley, February 3, 1917, Box 10, Folder 127, BHR; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1917, 3. 77. Easton to Bradley, February 3, 1917, Box 10, Folder 127, BHR. 78. See photo, frontispiece, Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1913, and p. 69; and Rosner and Markowitz, Dying for Work, xiv–xv.

224

NOTES TO PAGES 59–63

79. Lankton, Cradle to Grave, 138; Aldrich, Safety First, especially 2–75. 80. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1912, 6–7; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1913, 37; Anthony Bale, “America’s First Compensation Crisis: Conflict over the Value and Meaning of Workplace Injuries under the Employers’ Liability System,” in Dying for Work, ed. by Rosner and Markowitz, 35–36. 81. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1913, 71; EMJ 97 (March 14, 1914): 590. 82. Easton to Bradley, February 17, 1917, Box 10, Folder 127; Bradley to Easton, February 10, 1917, Box 10, Folder 127, BHR. 83. R. W. Raymond, “The U.S. Supreme Court and the U.S. Mining Law,” EMJ 81 (February 10, 1906): 265–66. 84. Easton to Bradley, September 9, 1905, Box 10, Folder 106; Bradley, in Telluride, to Easton, October 30, 1905, Box 10, Folder 106, BHR. See Rickard, From Mine to Battleship, 18–19. 85. Wilson, A Mine and Its Men, 10–14. 86. Easton to Folsom, November 21, 1905, BHR. 87. Fahey, Ballyhoo Bonanza, 146. See also “The Production of Spelter in 1908,” EMJ 87 (January 9, 1909): 63, which notes that the apex suits would no doubt be expensive. 88. Easton to Bradley, March 10, 1909, Box 10, Folder 113, BHR. 89. Bradley to Easton, October 28, 1909, Box 10, Folder 114, BHR. 90. Easton to Folsom, November 5, 1909, Box 74, Folder 1572, BHR. 91. Judd Stewart to Easton, October 29, 1913, Box 10, Folder 121, BHR; EMJ 89 (April 16, 1910): 837. 92. “Great Litigation Ends,” Wallace Times, March 25, 1910; EMJ 89 (April 9, 1910): 792. See EMJ 89 (April 30, 1910): 936. 93. Easton to Burton L. French, telegram, April 9, 1908, Box 10, Folder 124; Easton to Bradley, December 15, 1908, Box 10, Folder 112; Easton to Bradley, December 18, 1908, Box 10, Folder 112; Easton to Bradley, December 20, 1908, Box 10, Folder 112; Bradley to Easton, April 13, 1909, Box 10, Folder 113; Easton to Bradley, May 26, 1909, Box 10, Folder 113; Bradley to Easton, June 8, 1909, Box 10, Folder 113; Easton to Bradley, August 14, 1909, Box 10, Folder 113; Bradley to Easton, October 18, 1910, Box 10, Folder 116; Easton to Bradley, October 14, 1910, Box 10, Folder 124; Bradley to Easton, February 6, 1912, Box 10, Folder 118; Easton to Bradley, February 9, 1912, Box 10, Folder 118; Bradley to Easton, February 8, 1912, Box 10, Folder 118, all BHR. 94. Burbidge, Bunker Hill manager, to Spokane attorney Albert Allen, January 10, 1899, Box 9, Folder 88; Burbidge to Bradley, June 28, 1900, Box 9, Folder 88, BHR. See McCarthy et al. v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, et al. (1906): 981–85; McCarthy et al. v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, et al. (1908). 95. Folsom to Easton, January 24, 1906, Box 74, Folder 1571, BHR.

NOTES TO PAGES 64–68

225

96. Bradley to Easton, October 18, 1909, Box 10, Folder 114, BHR. 97. See Easton to Bradley, October 23, 1909, Box 10, Folder 114. BHR. 98. Report of Operator No. 14, August 24, 1905 and August 31, 1905, Box 1, Folder 5, Easton Papers. 99. Report of Operator No. 14, September 25, 1905, September 27, 1905, November 2, 1905, Box 1, Folder 5, Easton Papers. 100. Easton to Bunker Hill secretary Wallace, October 31, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR. The mining companies had collected over $381,000 to be used for attorneys’ fees, land purchases, and to pay damages. 101. Easton to Wallace, October 31, 1918, BHR. 102. EMJ 90 (August 27, 1910): 427; Elmer Doty v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, No. 309, Circuit Court of the United States for the District of Idaho, Northern Division, August 1910, Box 5, MG 130, Special Collections, University of Idaho Library. See Frederick, “Ninth Circuit,” 208–210. 103. Spokesman Review, May 17, 1911. 104. Easton to Wallace, May 7, 1915, Box 10, Folder 123; Easton to Bradley, February 26, 1913, Box 10, Folder 120, BHR. 105. For background on the formation of ASARCO and the Guggenheims’ involvement, see Fell, Ores to Metals, 218–39; Marcosson, Metal Magic, 57–83. Securing sufficient ore was a problem in all facets of the metals industry. See Scamehorn, Mine and Mill; and Schwantes, Vision and Enterprise. 106. Stanly A. Easton, “Sixty-Four Years in Mining as Told to Charles Stark,” October 21, 1957, Easton audio tape, tape 1, side 2, Box 1, Folder 40, Easton Papers. 107. EMJ 79 (May 18, 1905): 965. 108. Rockwell, Sketch Portraits , 1–18; Bradley to Easton, February 8, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107; Bradley to Easton, March 20, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107, BHR. 109. Easton to Bradley, November 9, 1906, Box 10, Folder 108; Bradley to Easton, September 30, 1905, Box 10, Folder 106, BHR. 110. Bradley to Easton, October 25, 1905, Box 10, Folder 106; Bradley to Easton, November 19, 1905, Box 10, Folder 106, BHR; W. R. Ingalls, “Lead,” EMJ 81 (January 6, 1906): 9. 111. Bradley to Easton, October 27, 1907; Bradley to Easton, October 18, 1907, Box 10, Folder 110, BHR. 112. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1907, 5; Easton to Bradley, October 17, 1908, Box 10, Folder 112, BHR. 113. Easton to Bradley, December 9, 1910, Box 10, Folder 116; Bradley to Easton, February 16, 1911, Box 10, Folder 117, BHR. 114. Easton to Bradley, August 13, 1912, Box 10, Folder 124; Easton to Bradley, February 18, 1906, Box 10, Folder 107; BHR; Wilson, A Mine and Its Men, 101; See Spence, Mining Engineers, 369. Stanly Easton, interview, October 21, 1957, tape 2, side 2, Easton Papers; Young, Western Mining, 201.

226

NOTES TO PAGES 68–73

115. J. W. Gwinn, “The Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company,” Mining Congress Journal 17 (1931): 602. The new mills were designed by an Italian, Gelasio Caetani, who later became ambassador to the United States and Mussolini’s aide; see Spence, Mining Engineers, 11. 116. Bradley affidavit, American Smelting and Refining Company vs. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, 21–22. 117. Bradley wrote to Easton (January 4, 1913, Box 10, Folder 120, BHR), “I do not like the way in which the A. S. & R. Co. are shaping up all contracts to expire June 1, 1915. They are evidently planning that on that date they will fix upon another 5 year period with us, but this doesn’t go unless the prices are right.” Another Coeur d’Alene observer warned, “There is now no doubt that the American Smelting and Refining Co. has so manipulated matters as to assure to itself practically undisputed sway in the district. . . . When outside contracts expire, . . . the entire district will pass under the domination of the most unscrupulous and rapacious combination.” “Lead-Smelting Projects in the Coeur d’Alene,” EMJ 100 (November 6, 1915): 751. For the lead price, see Bunker Hill Company annual reports, 1905–1917, Box 5, Folders 22–25, BHR. 118. Bradley to Easton, January 4, 1913, Box 10, Folder 120; Wallace to Easton, June 7, 1915, Box 10, Folder 123, BHR. 119. EMJ 100 (October 2, 1915): 572. 120. Ibid. (November 15, 1915). 121. Bradley to Easton, January 14, 1916, Box 10, Folder 125, Easton to Bradley, December 23, 1915, Box 10, Folder 123; board of directors minutes, July 14, 1916, o.s. Folder 3, BHR; EMJ 100 (November 13, 1915): 819. 122. Spokesman Review, April 1, 1916; Wallace Miner, March 31, 1916 and June 21, 1917; Spokane Daily Chronicle, September 23, 1915; Coeur d’Alene Press, August 21, 1916. 123. Bradley to Easton, December 30, 1914, Box 10, Folder 123; Bradley to Easton, August 17, 1916, Box 10, Folder 126; Bradley to John Gray, July 24, 1916; Wallace to Easton, April 10, 1915, Box 10, Folder 126; Easton to Wallace, October 21, 1916, Box 10, Folder 126, BHR. The Washington Water Power substation was completed in May 1917, EMJ 103 (May 19, 1917): 911. See also EMJ 102 (July 8, 1916): 114, 484. 124. Spokesman Review, June 27, 1917; Easton to Bradley, July 16, 1917, Box 10, Folder 129, BHR; telegram quoted in EMJ 103 (March 31, 1917): 553. 125. See Noble, America by Design, 258–59. CHAPTER 3 1. Affidavits of plaintiff, ASARCO v. Bunker Hill, 37; and bill of complaint, 31, 34; Spokesman Review, August 22, 1917. Bunker Hill ore’s iron content made it desirable. EMJ 104 (September 22, 1917): 537.

NOTES TO PAGES 73–78

227

2. Bradley to Easton, January 18 and February 1, 1918, Box 11, Folder 131, BHR. 3. F. H. Brownell and Myron Folsom agreement, March 12, 1918; and A.S. & R.Co–Bunker Hill Mining and Concentrating Company agreement, March 12, 1918, Box 11, Folder 132, BHR. 4. Stockholder meeting minutes, November 1, 1919, o.s. No. 3, BHR. 5. EMJ 111 (January 15, 1921): 118. 6. Easton to Bradley, March 29, 1917, Box 20, Folder 127, BHR. 7. Bradley to Easton, June 6, 1917, Box 20, Folder 128, BHR. 8. Easton to Bradley, June 10, 1917, Box 10, Folder 128, BHR; Wallace Press Times, May 5, 1918. For a comprehensive examination of America during World War I, see Kennedy, Over Here. 9. Easton to Bradley and board of directors, February 1, 1919, Box 11, Folder 135, BHR. 10. Wallace to Easton, June 8, 1917 and June 13, 1917; Easton to Lem Wilson, June 19, 1917, Box 10, Folder 128, BHR. 11. Notice to employees, July 23, 1917; see Bradley to Easton, July 28, 1917, Box 10, Folder 129, BHR. 12. Bradley to Easton, January 29, 1918, Box 11, Folder 131, BHR. 13. Bunker Bullion 2 (October 13, 1918), Box 75, Folder 1615; Bradley to Easton, January 6, 1919, Box 11, Folder 135; Bradley to Easton, November 4, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134; Bradley to Easton, December 19, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR; EMJ 106 (October 19, 1918): 718. 14. Easton to Bradley and board of directors, February 1, 1919, Box 11, Folder 135, BHR; Spokesman Review, April 9, 1919; Bunker Bullion, memorial ed. (August 1919), Box 75, Folder 1615, BHR. 15. Easton to Bradley and board of directors, February 1, 1919, Box 11, Folder 135, BHR. 16. Bradley to Easton, November 13, 1917, Box 10, Folder 130; Easton to Bradley, July 2, 1918, Box 11, Folder 133; Foster C. Gibson, manager, Edison Storage Battery, Seattle, Wash., June 28, 1918, Box 11, Folder 133; Bunker Hill purchasing agent to Easton, July 8, 1918, Box 11, Folder 133, BHR. 17. Bradley to Easton, November 25, 1918 and November 30, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR. See Cuff, War Industries Board; Schwarz, Speculator; Sobel, Giant Corporation, 8–21; Blackford and Kerr, Business Enterprise, 260–62. 18. Bradley to Easton, December 10, 14, and 16, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR. 19. Bradley to Easton, telegram, September 18, 1918; Bradley to Easton, September 18, 1918, attaching American Mining Congress directions, Box 11, Folder 133, BHR. 20. C. W. Brown, “Changes Up Town,” Bunker Bullion 2 (October 13, 1918), Box 75, Folder 1615, BHR.

228

NOTES TO PAGES 79–83

21. D. L. Huntington, Washington Water Power, to Easton, March 27, 1917, attached to Easton to Bradley, May 5, 1917, Box 10, Folder 128, BHR. 22. Easton to Bradley, April 18, 1917, Box 10, Folder 128, BHR. 23. Coeur d’Alene Press, April 24, 1917. The definitive study of the IWW is by Dubofsky, We Shall Be All. 24. Easton to Bradley, handwritten note, June 27, 1917, Box 10, Folder 128; Easton to Bradley, July 1, 1917, Box 10, Folder 129, BHR. 25. George Huston to Easton, July 6, 1917. See Easton to Bradley, July 8, 1917, Box 10, Folder 129, BHR. 26. Easton to Bradley, July 8, 1917, Box 10, Folder 129; BHR; Wallace Miner, July 8, 1917. 27. Spokesman Review, July 19, 1917. See Lovin, “Red Scare in Idaho,” 2–13; Lovin, “World War Vigilantes,” 2–11; Sims, “Idaho’s Criminal Syndicalism Act,” 26–36. 28. Bradley to Easton, July 17, 1917, Box 10, Folder 129, BHR. 29. Easton to Bradley, August 30, 1917, Box 10, Folder 129, BHR. 30. Schwantes, Vision and Enterprise, 154–55. 31. British citizens were called back to Great Britain, and a Serbian recruiter took several underground workers. Work in shipyards and other war industries attracted Bunker Hill employees as well. See Easton to Bradley, April 11, 1918; April 15, 1918; April 23, 1918, Box 11, Folder 132, BHR. 32. Easton to Bradley, July 20, 1918, Box 11, Folder 133, BHR. 33. Easton to Bradley, September 14, 1918, Box 11, Folder 133; Bradley to Easton, October 3, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR. 34. Bradley to Easton, October 9, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR. 35. Spokesman Review, February 3, 1919; Easton to Bradley, February 3, 1919, Box 111, Folder 135, BHR. 36. Easton to Bradley, March 1, 1919; Bradley to Easton, March 5, 1919; Easton to Bradley, March 11, 1919, Box 11, Folder 135, BHR. These layoffs were particularly troublesome to workers who believed that they had, at the urging of management, sacrificed during the war to purchase Liberty Bonds and make contributions to the Red Cross. Once the war ended, they had been rewarded with wage cuts that often forced workers to sell their Liberty Bonds at less than face value in an effort to keep their heads above water, while owners continued to profit. 37. Easton to Bradley, April 1, 1919, Box 11, Folder 136, BHR. 38. Easton to Bradley, May 20, 1919, Box 11, Folder 136, BHR. 39. Easton to Bradley, May 28, 1919, Box 11, Folder 136, BHR. 40. Bradley, at Treadwell, to Easton, May 31, 1919, Box 11, Folder 136, BHR. Wallace Press Times, June 6, 1919. 41. Easton to Bradley, June 7, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR. 42. Bradley to Easton, June 13, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR.

NOTES TO PAGES 84–88

229

43. Easton to Bradley, June 18, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR. 44. Easton to Bradley, June 23, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR; Wallace Press Times, June 20, 1919. 45. Wallace Press Times, June 20, 1919. 46. Easton to Bradley, August 5, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR. 47. Easton to Commissioner McWade, U.S. Conciliation Service, August 11, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR; Easton statement to employees, August 5, 1919, Box 1, Folder 7, Easton Papers. 48. “Gentlemen’s Agreement,” August 13, 1919, enclosed in Easton to Bradley, August 18, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR. 49. Strike notice for Hercules, Hecla, Tamarack, and Custer, August 14, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR. 50. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1919, 6; Spokesman Review, August 15, 1919; Easton to Bradley, telegram, August 15, 1919; Easton to Wallace, telegram, August 18, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR. 51. Editorial, “No Strike at BH and There’s a Reason Why,” Wallace Miner, August 28, 1919. 52. Rickard, Bunker Hill Enterprise, 140, reprint, Box 83, Folder 1852, BHR. 53. Wallace Miner, September 3, 1919; Spokesman Review, September 3, 1919; Bradley to Easton, August 29, 1919, Box 11, Folder 137, BHR. Burbidge, of the Federal, sought information regarding the Bunker Hill home loan program in the hope of imitating the successful Bunker Hill labor policy. See Burbidge to Easton, November 28, 1919; Easton to Burbidge, December 1, 1919, Box 11, Folder 138, BHR. 54. Easton to Bradley, February 12, 1920; Bradley to Easton, February 14, 1920, Box 11, Folder 139, BHR. On company unionism, see Nelson, “Company Union Movement,” 355–58. 55. Easton, “Sixty-Four Years in Mining,” 21, Easton Papers. 56. Wallace Miner, February 22, 1917 and August 2, 1917; Easton to Bradley, September 25, 1917, Box 10, Folder 124, BHR; Rush White, mining engineer, to E. H. Moffett, president of Star Mining Company, September 26, 1917, Star case file. 57. In Equity, Star Mining Co. v. Federal Mining and Smelting Co., Star case file; EMJ (December 1, 1919): 77. 58. Bradley to Easton, telegram, May 17, 1920, Box 11, Folder 140; Easton to Bradley, May 17, 1920, Box 11, Folder 141, BHR. 59. Wallace Press Times, May 24, 1921. 60. Bradley to Easton, March 18, 1921, Box 23, Folder 156; Bradley to Easton, April 5, 1921, Box 12, Folder 156, BHR. 61. Sarah Smith and Eugene Day to Hecla Mining Co. stockholders, October 1, 1921, p. 433, Star case file. 62. Smith and Day to Hecla Mining Co. stockholders, October 28, 1921, Star case file.

230

NOTES TO PAGES 89–92

63. Bradley to Easton, October 24, 1921, and December 14, 1921, Box 12, Folder 157; Bradley to Easton, March 29, 1922, Box 12, Folder 158, BHR; EMJ (January 28, 1922): 181; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1922, 19. 64. Easton to Bradley, October 13, 1924, Box 12, Folder 149; Bradley to Easton, November 15, 1924, Box 12, Folder 161, BHR. 65. Easton to Bradley, December 3, 1924, Box 12, Folder 149, BHR. 66. Easton to Bradley, December 12, 1919, Box 11, Folder 128, BHR; EMJ 109 (April 17, 1920): 945; EMJ (May 22, 1920): 1183. 67. Bradley to Easton, February 2, 1920, Box 11, Folder 129, BHR. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1927, 34; U. C. Tainton, “The Sullivan Electrolytic Zinc Plant,” EMJ 126 (December 1, 1928): 856–59; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1922, 125. 68. Bradley to Easton, March 5, 1921, Box 12, Folder 156, BHR. 69. Bradley to Easton, March 25, 1921, Box 12, Folder 156; Bradley to Easton, June 14, 1921, Box 12, Folder 157; Bradley to Easton, September 9, 1921, Box 12, Folder 157; Bradley to Easton, May 9, 1922, Box 12, Folder 158, BHR; R. B. Childs, Washington Water Power Co., “Electricity in the Coeur d’Alene District,“ Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1928, 31–34. 70. Bradley to Easton, November 8, 1922, Box 12, Folder 159; Bradley to Easton, September 24, 1923, Box 12, Folder 160; Bradley to Easton, November 8, 1922, Box 12, Folder 159, BHR; EMJ 126 (May 20, 1922): 883. 71. Bradley to Easton, August 1, 1923; agreement, March 8, 1924, Box 12, Folder 160, BHR. 72. An April 8, 1925, clipping sent to Bradley, in Easton to Bradley, April 10, 1926, Box 12, Folder 154, BHR. 73. Board of directors minutes, June 24, 1926, Box 1, Folder 1; Bradley to Easton, September 21, 1926, Box 12, Folder 154, BHR. 74. Wallace G. Woolf and R. M. Miller, “Electrolytic Zinc Plant of the Sullivan Mining Company,” Mining Congress Journal 17 [November 1930?]: 624. Many new technologies required metals of exceptional purity, and the Bunker Hill product filled the bill. Williams, A Short History, 124. 75. Mining Industry of Idaho Report, 1928, 16, called it “the world’s highest grade zinc.” See U. C. Tainton, “The Sullivan Electrolytic Zinc Plant of Sullivan Mining Company,” in Mining Industry of Idaho Report, 1927, 33–38; Mining Truth, 1928 Convention edition, March 1, 1928, 7–8. 76. Easton to Bradley, at Treadwell, July 24, 1918, Box 11, Folder 133; Easton to Wallace, October 31, 1918, Box 11, Folder 134, BHR. 77. Easton to Bradley, April 21, 1920, Box 11, Folder 140; Easton to Bradley, May 12, 1921, Box 12, Folder 156, BHR. See Frederick, “Ninth Circuit,” 208–210. 78. See Swain, “Smoke and Fume Investigations,” 2384–88; Ligon Johnson, “History and Legal Phases of the Smelting and Smoke Problem—1,” EMJ 103 (May

NOTES TO PAGES 93–97

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19, 1917): 879–80; Ligon Johnson, “History and Legal Phases of the Smelting and Smoke Problem—2,” EMJ 103 (May 26, 1917): 924–26. 79. See Bradley to Easton, December 30, 1915, Box 10, Folder 123; Bradley to Easton, May 4, 1915, Box 10, Folder 122, BHR. The Cottrell system used electricity to remove particles. See I. G. Cottrell, “Recent Progress in Electrical Smoke Precipitation,” EMJ 101 (February 26, 1916): 385–92. 80. The letter to the U.S. Forest Service outlining these terms is quoted in Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company Board of Directors minutes, July 14, 1916, o.s. No. 3, BHR. The federal government had conducted studies showing the dangers of smelter smoke. Dept. of Interior, Bureau of Mines, Metallurgical Smoke, by Charles H. Fulton; U.S. Dept. of Agriculture, Injury to Vegetation, by J. K. Hayward. 81. See Oliver, Lead Poisoning. 82. R. R. Sayers, assistant surgeon, U.S. Public Health Service, to Easton, July 16, 1918, Box 12, Folder 155, BHR. 83. Easton to Jules Labarthe, August 22, 1918, Box 12, Folder 155; Bradley to Easton, December 22, 1924, Box 12, Folder 161, BHR. See William Graebner, “Private Power, Private Knowledge and Public Health: Science, Engineering, and Lead Poisoning, 1900–1970,” in Health and Safety of Workers, ed. by Ronald Bayer, 15–71. 84. Easton to Bradley, October 8, 1924, Box 12, Folder 149, BHR. There was a strong common-law tradition in this area with three basic rules of common-law liability: assumed risks, contributory negligence, and fellow servant. See Wyman, Hard Rock Epic, 120–23. 85. Rickard, Bunker Hill Enterprise, 16. 86. Bradley to Easton, December 22, 1924, Box 12, Folder 161; Easton to Bradley, December 31, 1924, Box 12, Folder 149, BHR. 87. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1929, 193. 88. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1930, 3; Mining Congress Journal 17 (November 1931): 631. 89. Easton to Bradley, February 9, 1925, Box 12, Folder 150; Easton to Bradley, February 21, 1920, sending copy of John A. Anderson v. American Smelting and Refining Company, Box 11, Folder 139, BHR. 90. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1923, 13; Easton to Bradley, March 23, 1923, BHR. 91. Easton to Bradley, May 14, 1923. 92. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1923, 22. 93. Bradley to Easton, November 3, 1924, Box 12, Folder 149, BHR. 94. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1924, 27. 95. Easton to Bradley, September 6, 1924, Box 12, Folder 164, BHR. 96. Dictionary of American Biography, 21, supplement 1, s.v. “Frederick Worthen Bradley, February 21, 1863–July 6, 1933,” 107–108.

232

NOTES TO PAGES 97–104

97. Easton statement, Box 55, Folder 1027, BHR. 98. Frederick Worthen Bradley obituary, San Francisco Chronicle, July 7, 1933; “Appreciation: Frederick Worthen Bradley,” EMJ 134 (August 1933): 349–50; “Frederick Worthen Bradley,” Who Was Who in America, 1:123. 99. Wilson, A Mine and Its Men. CHAPTER 4 1. See Idaho State Mine Inspector’s Annual Report, 1932, 44, 279–80; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1930, 213. 2. Bunker Hill Annual Report, 1933, 3, 5, Box 6, Folder 28, BHR; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1932, 280; EMJ 132 (November 23, 1931): 468. 3. Bunker Hill Annual Report, 1930, Box 6, Folder 27, BHR. 4. Bunker Hill Annual Report, 1934, 5, Box 6, Folder 28, BHR; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1931, 28; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1932, 24; EMJ 130 (December 23, 1930): 627; EMJ 132 (November 23, 1931): 465. 5. Bunker Hill Annual Report for 1933, 3, Box 6, Folder 28; Bunker Hill Annual Report for 1934, 3, Box 6, Folder 28; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1934, 27; Easton testimony, Box 377, Folder 11, IUMMSW Papers, Western Historical Collections, University of Colorado at Boulder (hereafter cited as Mine-Mill Papers). 6. EMJ 127 (April 20, 1929): 653, 746; EMJ 128 (December 28, 1929): 1017; EMJ 128 (December 7, 1929): 901. In fact, many American businesses survived the Great Depression without serious economic dislocation. See Sobel, 123. 7. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1930, 42–44; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1932, 280–81. 8. Bunker Hill Board of Directors minutes, September 19, 1949, Box 2, Folder 7, BHR; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1931, 28; Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company Annual Report, 1935, 3, Box 6, Folder 29, BHR. 9. Arthur R. Day, oral history interview with Robert Carroll, August 16, 1988; See chap. 4, abstract table 22G in C. Hobson et al., Idaho Digest and Blue Book (Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton Printers, 1935). 10. Wallace Miner, November 10, 1932. 11. See Green, World of the Workers, 140. 12. Quoted in Bernstein, Turbulent Years, 34. 13. Veteran miner Robert Carroll remembered, “They had a huge picture of Roosevelt on the wall of the Union hall.” In later testimony before a government agency, another union man recalled responding to a company official’s question as to why he would belong to the union, “The president wants me to.” See Arthur R. Day interview with Robert Carroll; and Jensen, Nonferrous Metals Industry, 5–6. 14. Regional Labor Board, Seattle, opinion and ruling of Board of Arbitration, Case No. 12, p. 15, In the Matter of Hecla Mining Company, Sullivan Mining

NOTES TO PAGES 104–107

233

Company, Bunker Hill & Sullivan Mining & Concentrating Company, respondents on the complaint of Burke Miners Union No. 10, IUMMSW, and Kellogg Mine and Smeltermen’s Union No. 18, I.U. of M.M. & S.W, complainants, filed April 3, 1934, Box 364, Mine-Mill Papers. 15. See Wallace Press Times, August 30, 1933. 16. Wallace Miner, June 14, 1934. 17. Strolovich affidavit, Box 379, Mine-Mill Papers. 18. Case No. 12, bill of particulars, Box 364, Mine-Mill Papers. 19. Spokesman Review, March 7, 1934. 20. Ora Wilson to Charles Hope, National Labor Board, Seattle, March 28, 1934, Box 364, BHR. 21. Spokesman Review, March 7, 1934. 22. Case No. 12, filed April 3, 1934, Opinion and Ruling of Arbitrators, 20, Box 75, Folder 1630, BHR. The company argued in the cases of Bilkey, Fischer, and Forbes that changing conditions in the industry and mine had prompted the dismissals. Management claimed that “soldiering” and a lot of waste coming from the stope where they were working had led to Wilson and Young being discharged. The company maintained that it was only interested in the efficient operation of its property, not in pressuring or intimidating men to decline union membership. The arbitration panel ruled that union activity was in fact not the cause of discharge in any of the cases and found that “the evidence does not establish any violation of Section 7(a) of the National Recovery Act.” The panel further proclaimed that “management must be accorded the right to pass upon the work of its employees.” Case No. 12, filed April 3, 1934, Opinion and Ruling of Arbitrators, 16–19, Box 75, Folder 1630, BHR. 23. Case No. 12, bill of particulars, Box 364, Mine-Mill Papers. 24. Wallace Miner, August 31, 1933. 25. Case No. R-2954, before the National Labor Relations Board, In the Matter of Sullivan Mining Company and Kellogg M. & S. Union, Local No. 18, International Union of Mine, Mill & Smelter Workers, Affiliated with the Congress of Industrial Organizations, p. 4, Box 384, Mine-Mill Papers. 26. See Labor World, June 15, 1934: 1. 27. Report of the Employee Representation Committee, Box 55, Folder 1044, BHR. 28. Ibid. Committee members were Fred Summer, Jerry Gooch, Steven Hanson, Clay Wilson, and Harold Carlson. A “dry” is the room where the workers shower and change their clothes. 29. Ora Wilson, secretary, Local No. 18, to R. D. Horning, NRA compliance officer, July 16, 1934; July 20, 1934; December 4, 1934, Box 364, Mine-Mill Papers. The nineteen men were Earl B. Turner, Joe Uduc, Gildo Bodrini, Paul Calabratta, Adolph Wieglin, Joe Valencia, John Marshick, Julio Montesimo, Jesus Flores, Leo Rodriguez, Carlos Gutiriz, Andrew Cooley, Tom Merlino, Rosco Martin,

234

NOTES TO PAGES 107–10

Pole Disosidado, Augustine Salas, Carlos Ramez, Juan Rincon, and Henry Valverde. 30. “By-Laws of the Wardner Industrial Union, November 1935,” 8, Box 381, Folder 17, Mine-Mill Papers. 31. Allen B. Easton, labor compliance officer, to Ora Wilson, August 22, 1934, NRA, Idaho officer, national emergency, Box 364, Folder 1, Mine-Mill Papers; Wilson to James Bradford, chief compliance officer, Seattle, August 25, 1934, Box 364 Folder 1, Mine-Mill Papers. 32. Joe Huffman affidavit, April 1, 1935, Box 367, Folder 31, Mine-Mill Papers. 33. Ibid. 34. Case No. 181, Regional Labor Board, March 20, 1935, given May 2, 1935, In the Matter of the Bunker Hill & Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company and Kellogg Mine & Smeltermen’s Union, No. 18, I.U. of M.M. & S.W., Box 380, Folder 27, Mine-Mill Papers. 35. Strolovich affidavit, Box 379, pp. 36–48, Mine-Mill Papers. 36. Max Greenough affidavit, Box 379, pp. 124–25, Mine-Mill Papers. 37. On William McDougall, see J. W. Gwinn, “The Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company,” Mining Congress Journal (November 1931): 601. 38. Facts and findings, Case No. 181, hearing, March 20, 1935, decision, May 2, 1935, Box 380, Folder 27, Mine-Mill Papers. 39. The Kellogg Chamber of Commerce opposed the Wagner Act. Spokesman Review, April 8, 1934; Charles Hope, NLRB, to Harry Mitson, August 15, 1935, Box 359, Mine-Mill Papers. 40. Wallace Press Times, September 15, 1937. McGuire stated his purpose was to “remove the yoke of coercion and intimidation” in the Coeur d’Alene district. Two excellent bibliographical essays on the CIO are Zieger, “Toward the History of the CIO,” 458–526; and Zieger, “The CIO,” 413–40. Zieger’s CIO, 1935–1955 is the most comprehensive study of the CIO. Miners won a landmark victory at the Sunshine mine during 1937, a turning point in labor history in the Coeur d’Alene district. See Gov. Barzilla Clark Papers, AR2, 161 B., Box 17; Wallace Strike and CIO Strike, June–August 1937, folder labeled “CIO Strike, August 1937”; “In the Matter of Sunshine Mining Company and International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers,“ in Decisions and Orders of the National Labor Relations Board, Vol. 7, May 1, 1938–June 30, 1938 (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1938): 1255–56, Case C-364; Phipps, “Bull Pen” (Ph.D. diss.), 156. 41. Resolutions, Box 367, Folder 31, Mine-Mill Papers. 42. John L. Fitzgerald, prosecuting attorney, to P. C. Meredith, administrator, Idaho Emergency Relief Administration, January 31, 1935, Box 367, Folder 1, Mine-Mill Papers. 43. See Mitson to C. Ben Ross, January 21, 1935, Box 367, Folder 1, MineMill Papers; Malone, C. Ben Ross, 51–76.

NOTES TO PAGES 110–14

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44. Floor Grievance Committee, January 25, 1935, Box 367, Folder 31, MineMill Papers. 45. Walter Rinnard, chairman of Political Committee for Local No. 18, to Floor Grievance Committee, January 25, 1935, Box 367, Folder 31, Mine-Mill Papers. 46. Handwritten note in with union meeting minutes, 26 April 1935, Box 367, Mine-Mill Papers. 47. H. C. Clare, director, Public Health Engineering, State of Idaho Dept. of Public Health, to Local No. 18, September 19, 1944, Box 367, Mine-Mill Papers. 48. Coeur d’Alene Press articles, “Once a Fruitful Paradise, Now the Valley of Death,” January 10, 1930; January 16, 1930; December 23, 1929; December 26, 1929. 49. State of Idaho, Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission, Report and Recommendation. 50. Ibid., 12. 51. Ibid., 17. 52. Ibid., 14; see A. W. Fahrenwald, “Flotation Practice in the Coeur d’Alene District, Idaho,” American Institute of Mining and Metallurgical Engineers (July 1927): 1–18; Mouat, “Flotation Process,” 3–31. 53. State of Idaho, Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission, Report and Recommendation, 54–55. 54. J. K. Hoskins, ”Report on the Lead Content of the Waters of the Coeur d’Alene River and Coeur d’Alene Lake in Idaho” (Washington, D.C.: GPO / U.S. Public Health Service, 1932): 18–19. 55. U.S. Dept. of Interior, Bureau of Fisheries, “Pollution of the Coeur d’Alene,” by M. M. Ellis. See also U.S. Bureau of Mines, “Pollution of the Coeur d’Alene River and Lake by Mill Tailings,“ report to the Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission, 1932, unpublished manuscript, Records of the Bureau of Mines, Record Group 70, National Archives, Washington, D.C.; Casner, “Toxic River,” 2–19. 56. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1946, 77. 57. Bunker Hill Company Board of Directors, November 23, 1933, Box 1, Folder 6, BHR. 58. Easement, February 28, 1940, Deed Book “72,” p. 376, Margarethe Jacobs, a widow, and Trace Jacobs, a spinster, to Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, a corporation, and Sullivan Mining Company, a corporation, recorded March 7, 1940; deed, August 17, 1948, Seattle First National Bank, successor to the Spokane and Eastern Rust Company to Bunker Hill & Sullivan Mining & Concentrating Company, Deed Book “82,” p. 186, recorded August 23, 1948; see, for example, Les Prather, assistant Bunker Hill secretary, to Mr. C. R. Mutch, September 2, 1941, Box 5, Folder 1037, BHR. 59. Yearly figures for these expenditures ranged from $15,184.81 in 1938 to $26,290.19 in 1949, Box 51, Folder 960, BHR.

236

NOTES TO PAGES 115–21

60. EMJ 128 (November 2, 1929): 686; EMJ 130 (August 23, 1930): 181. See also Spokesman Review November 24, 1929; Stanly Easton, “All Year Sunshine for Mine Workers,” Mining and Metallurgy 10 (December 1929). 61. EMJ 140 (February 1939): 79. 62. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1935, 68. The bell signals were: stop (if in motion)—one blast; proceed (if at rest)—one blast; back up—two blasts. 63. “Mining Rescue Work in the Coeur d’Alenes,” EMJ 141 (April 1940): 49–50. 64. Spokesman Review, September 20, 1939. 65. Trust agreement, Sullivan Mining Company, Bunker Hill & Sullivan Company, Federal Company with Trustees of School District No. 30, Silver King, May 20, 1937, BHR. 66. R. D. Wilder, YMCA secretary, “Kellogg’s Industrial YMCA,” EMJ 140 (August 1939): 81. 67. See Spokane Chronicle, December 2, 1944. He was killed March 20, 1944, and was awarded the Silver Star posthumously. 68. Bunker Hill Company Annual Report, 1941, 3, Box 6, Folder 29, BHR. 69. Case No. R-2954, In the Matter of Sullivan Mining Company and Kellogg Mine and Smeltermen Local No. 18, IUMMSW affiliated with Congress of Industrial Organizations, Box 55, Folder 1044, BHR. 70. Election announcement, October 29, 1941; J. B. Haffner to Oliver E. Godwin, telegram, L.A., December 27, 1941; Case No. R-2954, “Certification of Representatives” in the matter of Sullivan Mining Company and Local No. 18, November 28, 1941, Box 55, Folder 1044, BHR. 71. Case No. R-3668, Bunker Hill and Local No. 18, NLRB, “Supplemental Decision and Certification of Representatives,” Box 380, Folder 27, Mine-Mill Papers. 72. Case No. R-3668, “Supplemental Decision and Certification Memorandum” in the matter of Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company and Local No. 18, Box 380, Folder 27, Mine-Mill Papers. See Lichtenstein, “Ambiguous Legacy,” 214. He argues that more attention should be paid to organizational efforts that were successful in 1941–1942. 73. Reid Robinson radio address on Kellogg station KWAL, June 21, 1943, Box 384, Mine-Mill Papers (emphasis in original). For a discussion of the nostrike pledge and labor during World War II, see Freeman, “Delivering the Goods,” 570–93; and Koistinen, “World War II Economy,” 443–78. 74. P. C. Fedderson, general superintendent, to Local No. 18, December 20, 1943, Box 380, Folder 28, Mine-Mill Papers. 75. Vernon E. Wardlaw, October 5, 1944, Case No. 22-512, In the Matter of Coeur d’Alene Mining Companies and International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers, before the National War Labor Board, Nonferrous Metals Commission, Box 361, Mine-Mill Papers. The companies were Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining

NOTES TO PAGES 121–25

237

Company, Sunshine Mining Company, Federal Mining and Smelting Company, American Smelting and Refining Company, Tamarack and Custer Consolidated Mining Company, Sherman Lead Company, Dayrock Minng Company, Hercules Mining Company, Coeur d’Alene Mines Company, Hunter Lease (Gold Hunter mine), and Hull Lease (Frisco mine). Union locals Nos. 9, 14, 18, and 567 were involved. 76. National War Labor Board, Nonferrous Metals Commission, Case No. 22-701, in case of eighteen mining operators and locals Nos. 9, 14, 18, and 567, Box 361, Mine-Mill Papers. 77. Grievances in Box 366, Mine-Mill Papers: February 7, 1944, from granulator operators; January 24, 1944, from ore unloading crew; January 12, 1944, from baghouse workers. 78. Agreement, April 5, 1944, Ray Arnold and IUMMSW and Fedderson, general superintendent, Bunker Hill Smelter, Case No. 22-447, Box 380, Folder 28, Mine-Mill Papers. 79. Eurie E. Brown, chief mining engineer, Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company, “Air Cooling at the Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mine,” Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1942, 17; Eurie E. Brown, “Spot Coolers Increase Comfort of Mine Workers,” EMJ 146 (January 1945: 58–59; Mining World 4 (June 1942): 29. 80. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1941, 19. See Sobel, 157–60. 81. Wallace G. Woolf, “The Outlook for Zinc,” in Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1941, 23–25. 82. Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1941, 17. 83. “Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company Electrolytic Antimony,” Mining World (July 1942): 3; EMJ 142 (September 1941): 78; Inspector of Mines, Annual Report, 1943, 189; Spokane Daily Chronicle, February 27, 1942; “Zinc Fuming Plant,” EMJ 144 (April 1943): 103; EMJ 143 (November 1943): 90. 84. EMJ 143 (February 1942): 86. Mining World 4 (June 1942): 3–10, 85. National War Labor Board, Nonferrous Metals Commission, March 6, 1944, Box 56, Folder 1113, BHR. 86. Arnold to E. L. Turkington, regional representative, War Production Board, December 4, 1943, Box 384; Turkington to Bunker Hill Labor Management Committee, November 17, 1943, Box 384, Mine-Mill Papers. 87. “What Mining Men Are Doing about the Manpower Shortage,” EMJ 146 (May 1945): 93. 88. Supplement to district agreement between Local No. 18, IUMMSW, and Bunker Hill Smelter and Sullivan Zinc Plant, August 27, 1943, Box 384, MineMill Papers. 89. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company Annual Report, 1943, 5; Coolin grievance, February 11, 1944, Box 366, Mine-Mill Papers.

238

NOTES TO PAGES 125–28

90. Resolution, August 19, 1944, Box 383, Folder 27, Mine-Mill Papers. 91. Local No. 18 minutes, June 20, 1944; September 21, 1944; September 18, 1944; October 12, 1944; Box 383, Folder 27, Mine-Mill Papers. See Milkman, Gender at Work, 70–76. For a discussion of the impact of war work in a more general sense, see Woloch, Women and the American Experience, 301–309; Gluck, Rosie the Riveter. 92. See Arnold to Bunker Hill manager Haffner and Allied War Relief Committee, April 5, 1945, Box 380, Folder 28, Mine-Mill Papers; Arnold, Local No. 18 secretary, to Graham Dolan, editor of The Union, November 6, 1943, Box 380, Folder 12, Mine-Mill Papers. 93. Murray and Hillman, CIO, to shop stewards and committee, October 7, 1944; Reid Robinson, IUMMSW president , to all local unions, July 19, 1944, Box 383, Folder 11, Mine-Mill Papers. 94. CIO PAC meeting minutes, September 3, 1944, Box 383, Folder 11, MineMill Papers. Anna M. Dam, vice chairman, local Political Action Committee, to CIO Political Action Committee, August 22, 1944, Box 383, Folder 11, Mine-Mill Papers. 95. Verda W. Barnes to Anna Dam, October 4, 1944, Box 383, Folder 11, Mine-Mill Papers. Barnes was later a staff member for Sen. Frank Church and a real power in Idaho politics. See Ashby and Gramer, Fighting the Odds, 72. 96. News-Letter and Women’s Activities in CIO-PAC, issued by Women’s Division, National CIO-PAC, September 15, 1944, Box 383, Folder 11, Mine-Mill Papers. The script for October 19, 1944, offers a good example of Mine-Mill programming. This radio skit featured John Jones, ostensibly thirty-two, married, with two children, employed in a war production industry, and not a union member. Jones was “lost in 1944.” A number of players point out all Roosevelt has done for workers, and one of them is Jones’s wife, Mary, who lauds Roosevelt and convinces her husband to vote Democratic. See “Labor in Wartime,” broadcast, KWAL, Wallace, Idaho, 19 October 19, 1944, Box 383, Folder 11, Mine-Mill Papers. 97. “Big Bunker Hill Project May Add Years to Life of Mine,” Spokane Daily Chronicle, August 4, 1947. 98. Frank McKinley, assistant mill superintendent, “Bunker Hill’s New Mill,” EMJ 149 (June 1948): 89; EMJ 149 (March 1948): 108. 99. Board of directors, October 23, 1947, Box 2, Folder 7, BHR contains the Easton announcement of the zinc plant expansion. 100. “Zinc Purchase Plan Outlined,” Spokesman Review, September 19, 1948; Bunker Hill Annual Report, 1948, 4, Box 6, Folder 30, BHR; Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company Board of Directors meeting minutes, March 23, 1948, and April 22, 1948, Box 2, Folder 7, BHR. 101. EMJ 146 (December 1945): 135–36; John B. Huttl, “Bunker Hill Plant Recovers Metallic Cadmium from Fume,” EMJ 147 (April 1946): 82–85.

NOTES TO PAGES 128–31

239

102. Spokesman Review, June 17, 1948. 103. EMJ 149 (August 1948): 126; “Mining Company to Build Homes,” Spokesman Review, April 9, 1948; Bunker Hill and Sullivan Company stockholders meeting minutes, March 23, 1948, Box 2, Folder 7, BHR. 104. R. S. Hooper, “Recent Developments in Mechanization at the Bunker Hill Mine,” in American Institute of Mining and Metallurgical Engineers Technical Publication No. 2256, (September 1947): 1–5. 105. Quilter grievance, May 8, 1948; Union’s Summary; Local #18 Rebuttal to Company; Company’s Summary; Box 368, Mine-Mill Papers. Hull to Joseph J. Mondon, regional manager, American Arbitration Association, November 5, 1948, Box 368, Mine-Mill Papers. 106. Olga Rubino grievance, January 19, 1946, Box 368, Mine-Mill Papers; Wallace G. Woolf, superintendent of zinc plant, to Zinc Plant Grievance Committee, January 26, 1946, Box 368 Mine-Mill Papers; company’s statement, Rubino grievance, Box 368, Mine-Mill Papers; submission, In the Matter of Olga Rubino against Sullivan Mining Company, Zinc Plant, May 9, 1946, Box 368, Mine-Mill Papers. 107. Reminiscences recorded by Peter Piekarski, Local No. 18 activist, tape No. 7, p. 3 (transcript in author’s possession). I am grateful to Corinne Davis for sharing this information. 108. “The Communist Menace in Labor Unions,” Mining Congress Journal (December 1949); “Taft-Hartley and the Miner,” EMJ 148 (December 1947). 109. “Ex-Communist Leads Move to Secede from MMSW,” EMJ 148 (July 1947): 75. 110. “The committee is firmly convinced that Maurice Travis and other international officers of the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers have allowed the influence of the communist party to interfere with the internal affairs of the international union.” “Report to President Philip Murray by Committee Appointed to Investigate Unrest within the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers, May 16–17, 1947,” p. 14. See Table A–Table D, Annex A, and “Communist Dominated Unions” in America’s Plans for War against the Soviet Union, 1945–1950: A 15 Volume Set Reproducing in Facsimile 98 Plans and Studies Created by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, ed. by Steven T. Ross and David Alan Rosenberg (New York: Garland, 1989). 111. EMJ 150 (September 1949): 98. 112. EMJ 148 (December 1947): 55. 113. “Communism Menaces Mining Industry,” EMJ 148 (July 1947): 75. 114. EMJ 148 (July 1947): 80. 115. “Union Flyer,” Local No. 18, IUMMSW Papers (hereafter cited as Local No. 18 Papers). 116. Spokesman Review, July 7, 1948. See EMJ 150 (November 1949): 131–32. 117. E. A. Bush, financial secretary, to Lou Hanley, manager of Hecla, July 22, 1949, Box 358, Folder 2, Mine-Mill Papers.

240

NOTES TO PAGES 131–38

118. Bunker Hill and Company Board of Directors meeting minutes, August 25, 1949, Box 2, Folder 7, BHR. 119. The Union, November 7, 1949, 2. 120. “Women Mobilize to Help Coeur d’Alene Strikers,” The Union, November 7, 1949, 4; Spokesman Review, August 18, 1949; EMJ 150 (November 1959): 131; Spokesman Review, September 23, 1949. 121. The Union, November 7, 1949, 1. 122. Spokesman Review, November 14, 1949. 123. Bush to Oliver Martin, recording secretary, Local No. 622, Conda, Idaho, December 9, 1949, Box 358, Mine-Mill Papers. 124. Spokesman Review, November 13, 1949; Bush to Roland Look, financial secretary, Local No. 51, Selby, Calif., December 13, 1949, Box 358, Mine-Mill Papers. 125. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Board of Directors meeting minutes, September 19, 1949, Box 12, Folder 7, BHR. CHAPTER 5 1. Board of directors, January 25, 1951; Board of directors, December 27, 1951, Box 2, Folder 8, BHR; Easton, “Sixty-Four Years in Mining,” p. 25. For an accounting of smoke investigation costs during these years, see Box 51, Folder 960, BHR. 2. Board of directors, February 27, 1952, Box 2, Folder 8, BHR. 3. Bunker Hill Company 1952 Annual Report, 8; Bunker Hill Annual Report, 1954, 10, Box 6, Folder 31, BHR. 4. Smith, Mining America, 98. 5. Spokesman Review, July 12, 1953. 6. Bunker Hill Company Annual Report 1950, 6, Box 6, Folder 31, BHR. 7. Easton affidavit, October 21, 1936, BHR. 8. Annual meeting minutes, March 26, 1957, Box 3, Folder 10, BHR; Kellogg Evening News, March 26, 1957; Idaho Daily Statesman, March 27, 1957. 9. Joseph M. Gambastese, “Mine, Mill v. CIO Fight Means Turmoil for Mining,” EMJ 101 (April 1950): 73. 10. American Metal Market 57 (February 17, 1950): 1, carried the text of the CIO committee hearing evidence on Communists in Mine-Mill findings. 11. Jensen’s Nonferrous Metals Industry is still the standard work on this subject. See also Robert E. Vivian, “The Communist Menace in Labor Unions,” Mining Congress Journal (December 1949): 34–36. 12. The issue of Communism and the CIO has had considerable historical attention. Kampelman, Communist Party vs. the CIO, and Saposs, Communism in American Unions, both support the CIO expulsions. The same is true of Vernon Jensen’s Nonferrous Metals Industry Unionism. Another interpretation is available in Bert Cochran, Labor and Communism: The Conflict that Shaped American Unions

NOTES TO PAGES 138–40

241

(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1977); Levenstein, Communism, AntiCommunism; Ginger and Christiano, Cold War against Labor. A recent reexamination is Stepan-Norris and Zeitlin, Left Out. Also helpful is Nelson Lichtenstein, “The Communist Experience in American Trade Unions,” Industrial Relations 19 (Spring 1980). For a general discussion of the CIO, see Preis, Labor’s Giant Step; Galenson, CIO Challenge; and especially Zieger, The CIO, 1935–1955. See also Zieger, “Toward the History of the CIO,” 458–516; and Zieger, “The CIO,” 413–40. 13. Transcript of the radio address in Communist Domination of Union Officials in Vital Defense Industry—International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers, hearing before the U.S. Senate Sub-committee to Investigate the Administration of the International Security Act and Other Internal Security Laws of the Committee on the Judiciary, 82nd Cong., 2nd sess., October 6–9, 1952, 292–93. A transcript of Blackwell’s speech is included. 14. Ray Chapman, interview by author, February 6, 1989, Bunker Hill Company offices, Kellogg, Idaho. 15. Spokesman Review, September 29, 1951. 16. Rhea Flekner, “The Way I Heard It,” Spokesman Review, September 30, 1951. 17. Kellogg Evening News, October 17, 1951; Spokane Daily Chronicle, September 29, 1951. 18. Mine-Mill Executive Board minutes, April 12, 1953, Local No. 18 Papers. Piekarski was often at the center of claims of local Communist influence in Mine-Mill. 19. Ray Chapman, interview by author, February 6, 1989; Gary Hoffman (son of Merlin Hoffman), interview by author, June 8, 1999, Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Both Chapman and Hoffman referred to late-night telephone calls. Hoffman related several incidents of fighting between the factions. He also indicated that at one point he was kidnapped by Mine-Mill supporters and kept from his family for several days. At a March 7, 1955, union meeting, Rex Pollock, a Local No. 18 member, reported being visited by the FBI, as did Art Norlen and Peter Piekarski. Box 367, Mine-Mill Papers. Piekarski recounted this in his taped memoirs as well (transcript in author’s possession). See also, Norlen, Death of a Proud Union, 82–84. 20. Kellogg Evening News, April 13, 1955. 21. Quotation from Otto Orr of United Steelworkers, Kellogg Evening News, April 20, 1955. 22. Charles E. Schwab, to attorney Marion Plant, June 14, 1955 (Plant was a member of the San Francisco legal firm of Brobech, Phlegar and Harrison, and was the Bunker Hill Labor consultant), Box 72, Folder 1511, BHR; management meeting minutes, June 29, 1955, Box 6, Folder 39, BHR; tally of ballots 19-RC1689, July 14, 1955.

242

NOTES TO PAGES 140–44

23. Management Committee meeting minutes, August 1, 1955. Mine-Mill Ladies Auxiliary, No. 65, put in considerable effort soliciting signatures for the hospital petition and campaigning for the ballot measure. See Norlen, Death of a Proud Union, 77–81; and Helen Piekarski and Peter Piekarski, interview by author, April 12, 1990, Pinehurst, Idaho. 24. Bradley was speaking before the Kellogg Kiwanis. See Kellogg Evening News, June 15, 1956; see Management Committee meeting minutes, March 9, 1956, for the report; Management Committee meeting minutes, June 20, 1956, for the decision to sell, Box 6, Folder 40, BHR. 25. See Kellogg Evening News, March 30, 1956; Bunker Hill Reporter 2 (July 1957): 2. 26. Kellogg Evening News, June 15, 1956. 27. Coeur d’Alene Press, April 6, 1956; North Idaho Press, June 12, 1956; Coeur d’Alene Press, June 12, 1956; and for WWP sale, board of directors meeting minutes, May 29, 1956, Box 3, Folder 9, BHR; Wallace Miner, August 30, 1956. 28. Kellogg Evening News, August 8, 1956. 29. Wallace Miner, August 9, 1956; Kellogg Evening News, June 16, 1959. 30. Kellogg Evening News, September 23, 1955; November 25, 1953; October 26, 1955; stockholders special meeting, October 26, 1955, Box 3, Folder 9, BHR. 31. Annual Report for 1956, 14, Box 6, Folder 32, BHR; Kellogg Evening News, March 29, 1957; North Idaho Press, November 15, 1957; Spokesman Review, November 15, 1957. 32. EMJ 157 (April 1956):140; board of directors minutes, January 25, 1956, Box 3, Folder 9, BHR. 33. Kellogg Evening News, September 5, 1956; February 27, 1956; North Idaho Press, February 27, 1956. 34. Management Committee meeting minutes, June 4, 1957, Box 6, Folder 41, BHR. 35. Master Smelter grievance, 1954, Box 365, Mine-Mill Papers. 36. Ibid. 37. Smelter grievance, March 23, 1955, Box 363, Mine-Mill Papers. 38. Kellogg Evening News, May 14, 1956. 39. Management Committee meeting minutes, August 10, 1956; ibid., September 28, 1955, Box 6, Folder 39, BHR; Kellogg Evening News, May 3, 1956, Spokesman Review, October 5, 1955. 40. Kellogg Evening News, January 24, 1957; Nampa Free Press, January 24, 1957; Bunker Hill Reporter 2 (January 1957): 1. 41. Wallace Miner, November 29, 1956; Spokane Daily Chronicle, December 7, 1956. 42. Management Committee meeting minutes, February 12, 1957, Box 6, Folder 41, BHR.

NOTES TO PAGES 145–48

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43. Ira A. Robson, assistant secretary to Stanly Easton, January 29, 1954, enclosing quit claim deed to Riverside Addition for Elmo D. Swanson; Bunker Hill Reporter 2 (January 1957): 2. 44. Management Committee meeting minutes, December 4, 1956, Box 6, Folder 40; January 3, 1957, Box 6, Folder 41, BHR. 45. Smelter grievance No. 2.223, April 9, 1960; smelter grievance No. 2.224, April 8, 1960, Box 368, Mine-Mill Papers. 46. North Idaho Press, February 11, 1958. 47. See “1958 Annual Report to Employees from President,” 1. 48. See Coeur d’Alene Press, November 6, 1957. 49. See Coeur d’Alene Press, November 16, 1957; “Mining Industry Cites Defense Need in Asking Relief,” Bunker Hill Reporter 2 (December 1957): 3. 50. “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes” program, December 31, 1959, BHR. 51. Management Committee meeting minutes, August 25, 1958, Box 6, Folder 42, BHR. 52. Management Committee meeting minutes, September 5, 1958; October 13, 1958, Box 6, Folder 42, BHR. 53. Management Committee meeting minutes, April 3, 1957; April 17, 1957, Box 6, Folder 41, BHR. 54. Kellogg Evening News, January 28, 1958. 55. Bunker Hill Company Annual Report, 1957, 4, Box 6, Folder 32, BHR; Bunker Hill Reporter 3 (April 1958): l; Bunker Hill Reporter 4 (April 1959): 4; Wall Street Journal, February 24, 1958. 56. Wall Street Journal, February 24, 1958; Spokane Daily Chronicle, October 17, 1959. 57. Bunker Hill Reporter 3 (November 1958): l; Bunker Hill Reporter 4 (February 1959): 1; Wallace Miner, September 17, 1959; Spokesman Review, September 16, 1959. 58. Board of directors meeting minutes, December 22, 1958, Box 3, Folder 10, BHR. 59. Wallace Miner, July 23, 1959. 60. Board of directors meeting minutes, November 26, 1952, Box 2, Folder 8, BHR; Spokane Daily Chronicle, March 18, 1958. See also Wallace Miner, March 28, 1958; Bunker Hill Reporter 2 (March 1958): 2. 61. North Idaho Press, April 19, 1957; Wallace Miner, April 25, 1957. 62. Kellogg Evening News, February 4, 1959. 63. Idaho Daily Statesman, June 6, 1959. 64. Bunker Hill Company Annual Report, 1958, 4, Box 6, Folder 32, BHR. 65. John D. Bradley in Management Committee minutes, June 4,1957, Box 16, Folder 41, BHR. 66. “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes,” radio program, July 24, 1958; program from joint directors lunch, July 1959, BHR.

244

NOTES TO PAGES 148–53

67. KWAL to Chapman, March 24, 1959, BHR. 68. Kellogg Evening News, May 20, 1959; Spokane Daily Chronicle, May 20, 1959. 69. B. F. Mahoney in Bunker Hill file notes on James Daugherty’s remarks to Kellogg Rotary, April 16, 1959, BHR; “Mine-Mill Hand-Out,” December 2, 1959, Local No. 18 Papers. Peter Piekarski remembered that union people had posted a sign reading “slave labor camp” at the entrance to Kellogg. It was always promptly removed so finally the union made a stencil. 70. Kellogg Evening News, February 6, 1959; Spokesman Review, February 22, 1959. 71. “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes,” June 11, 1959, Local No. 18 Papers. 72. Union press release, July 30, 1959, Local No. 18 Papers; North Idaho Press, July 30, 1959; Spokane Daily Chronicle, July 30, 1959. 73. Mine-Mill broadcast, August 14, 1959, Luther Church speaker, Local No. 18 Papers. 74. Notes on management group meeting, marked “Confidential,” November 30, 1959, Box 3, Folder 10, BHR; Spokane Daily Chronicle, November 27, 1959; Kellogg Evening News, November 27, 1959; Wallace Miner, December 3, 1959; Spokesman Review, December 2, 1959. The Bradleys were involved in a head-on crash as they returned home from Thanksgiving dinner at his mother’s. 75. See board of directors meeting minutes, January 11, 1960, Box 11, Folder 11, BHR. 76. See Dorothy R. Powers, “Mine-Mill Leader States Position on Communism,” Spokesman Review, February 27, 1961, 12. Skinner and Powers were convicted in March 1960 of conspiracy to defraud an agency of the United States (the National Labor Relations Board), by falsely filing the non-Communist affidavits. They were sentenced to three years and fined two thousand dollars. According to the U.S. attorney in charge of the case, Donald G. Brotzman, Skinner and Powers had pretended to resign from the Communist Party in order to sign the affidavits. The Supreme Court later overturned the convictions. According to Ray Chapman, in an interview on February 6, 1989, Bunker Hill had an FBI file on James Daugherty. See also Mine-Mill Papers, April 1960, 1. 77. “Youth Group Denies Role in Dispute,” Spokesman Review, May 23, 1960, 8; and “Policy Statement by Youth Group,” Kellogg Evening News, May 18, 1960, 1. 78. See “Anti-Communism Drive,” Kellogg Evening News, May 20, 1960, 1; “Local Youth Movement Gains Further Support,” Kellogg Evening News, May 24, 1960, 1; “Youth Movement Rally Ready for Tomorrow,” Kellogg Evening News, May 25, 1960, 1; “Youth Movement Parade Rally Set for Tonight: More Organizations Pledge Full Support,” Kellogg Evening News, May 26, 1960, l; “Youth Parade at Kellogg Mounts Up,” Spokesman Review, May 26, 1960, 2. For a discussion of religion and anti-Communism, see Heale, American Communism. According to Heale, evangelical and fundamentalist Protestants and Roman Catholics often played

NOTES TO PAGES 153–55

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prominent roles in anti-Communist activities. In Kellogg, all of the Protestant denomination ministers came out strongly opposed to Mine-Mill and the Communist influence, with the exception of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The Catholic priest was pro–Mine-Mill. 79. See “Young Kellogg Marchers Colorful, Unforgettable,” Spokane Daily Chronicle, May 27, 1960; “Anti-Communist Demonstration Goes Off Smoothly at Kellogg,” Lewiston Morning Tribune, May 27, 1960; “Huge Crowds Attend Youth Parade-Rally,” Kellogg Evening News, May 27, 1960, 1. As then-Kellogg High School principal Virgil Larson indicated, the parade and speeches were primarily patriotic in nature, and while there had been some concern regarding potential violence between marchers and union members, none materialized. However, Gary Hoffman remembered fighting between various factions. 80. Spokane Daily Chronicle, May 17, 1960. 81. “Commonsense Council Formed in District,” Kellogg Evening News, June 3, 1960, 1. Other founders were high school music teacher Glen Exum (also a leader of the Shoshone County Anti-Communist Association); insurance man Henry Crowley; A. G. Gamm, business manager of Kellogg’s Doctor’s Clinic (where Dr. G. I. Gibbon practiced); William Fawcett, office supply store owner; and dentist Hand F. Wayne. Robert Robson’s father, Ira, had served as Bunker Hill Company assistant corporate secretary and owned a house next door to the company offices. Robert Robson leased the house and lived there during the 1960 strike. 82. Commonsense Council radio broadcast, November 2, 1960, Box 372, Mine-Mill Papers. 83. Kellogg Evening News, June 24, 1960, 4; “Excerpts from a Letter to the Commonsense Council,” Kellogg Evening News, June 30, 1960, 3. This was an advertisement paid for by the Commonsense Council. 84. Mine-Mill strike bulletin, No. 3, June 27, 1960, Local No. 18 Papers. 85. Kellogg Evening News, November 15, 1960; letter from Idaho Citizens Relief Committee, Box 366, Mine-Mill Papers. The committee included Edward Middlemist, former state senator from Boundary County; union representatives; George Greenfield, past chairman of the Idaho Democrats; and Perry Swisher, editor of the Pocatello newspaper and a former Republican member of the state legislature. 86. See Coeur d’Alene Press, October 7, 1960; North Idaho Press, October 10, 1960; Kellogg Evening News, October 12, 1960; Idaho Daily Statesman, October 14, 1960. Smylie’s answer, North Idaho Press, October 17, 1960. 87. North Idaho Press, November 8, 1960; resolution, Kellogg Evening News, October 12, 1960; “Children Denied School Lunches in Idaho Strike,” Mine-Mill Papers, November 1960. 88. John Corlett, “Politically Speaking,” Idaho Daily Statesman, October 13, 1960.

246

NOTES TO PAGES 155–58

89. See Mine-Mill broadcast, July 21, 1960, Local No. 18 Papers; Kellogg Evening News, October 10, 1960. See flyer, “Following Is the ‘Mohawk Valley Strike Breaking Formula,’” Local No. 18 Papers. 90. Commonsense Council broadcast, July 13, 1960, Box 372, Mine-Mill Papers. 91. Lewiston Morning Tribune, September 23, 1960. See Kellogg Evening News, September 21, 1960, and September 22, 1960; Idaho Daily Statesman, September 23, 1960; Spokesman Review, January 20, 1961. 92. Mine-Mill people suspected the company provided Robson with the list. Handwritten notes of NLRB Conference, November 22, 1960, Wallace, Idaho, Local No. 18 papers. 93. Ibid. According to union officer Peter Piekarski, Mine-Mill hoped that the election would allow the union to “get the Communist monkey off our back once and for all.” Peter Piekarski, interview by author, April 12, 1990, Pinehurst, Idaho. See Norlen, Death of a Proud Union. Davis, “One Union” (M.A. thesis) provides an in-depth look at Local No. 18 and this strike. 94. Flyer with “Petition for Decertification” mailed to Bunker Hill workers, Local No. 18 Papers. 95. Commonsense Council broadcast, November 1, 1960, Box 372, MineMill Papers. 96. Spokane Daily Chronicle, November 9, 1960; Norlen, Death of a Proud Union, 124–25. 97. Dorothy Powers, “Housewives, Miners, Take Sides in Bitter Mining Area Union Battle,” Spokesman Review, February 28, 1961, 10. 98. NWMW president Eddie Adams believed that Communism was “the most important issue in the strike,” whereas Mine-Mill regional director James Daugherty called Communism a key issue in breaking his union. Bunker Hill manager B. F. Mahoney also reported that Communism was “an important factor in the breaking of the Bunker Hill Strike,” Spokesman Review, February 27, 1961; Mahoney, manager of employee and public relations, Bunker Hill Company, “A Review of the Status of Unions Representing Employees in the Mining Industry of the West with Particular Reference to Inter-union Rivalry” (speech, Las Vegas, Nevada, March 14, 1961, BHR). 99. North Idaho Press, December 14, 1960, and December 22, 1960. The Bunker Hill records on the entire 1959–1960 negotiation are summarized in Box 72, Folder 1513. 100. North Idaho Press, December 22, 1960. 101. The notoriously adversarial relationship between Mine-Mill and management was perhaps best characterized by novelist Clancy Sigal. He portrayed Mine-Mill members as coming “into the world absolutely convinced the boss is a no good sonofabitch and . . . [dying] thinking the same thing.” Clancy Sigal, Going Away: A Report, a Memoir (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1962), 142.

NOTES TO PAGES 158–61

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102. Kellogg Evening News, December 16, 1960. 103. Spokesman Review, January 27, 1961. 104. Kellogg Evening News, January 3, 1961. 105. Spokesman Review, March 5, 1961; Schwab, notice, posted April 14, 1961. 106. NWMW to Piekarski, February 13, 1961, Local No. 18 Papers. 107. “Selective Hatred,” Local No. 18 Papers. 108. Spokesman Review, October 24, 1962; NLRB Case No. 19-RC-3151; board of directors minutes, October 31, 1962, Box 4, Folder 11, BHR. 109. “Report on Challenged Ballots,” NLRB Case No. 19-RC-3318 and No. 19-RC-3324, April 28, 1964, Box 73, Folder 1529, BHR; North Idaho Press, April 9, 1964; Spokesman Review, April 9, 1964. 110. Kellogg Evening News, May 19, 1964, and August 7, 1964; Spokesman Review, August 8, 1964. 111. Kellogg Evening News, January 27, 1961. 112. Wallace Miner, June 23, 1960, and September 17, 1959; quotation, Kellogg Evening News, August 29, 1960. 113. Bunker Hill Reporter 7 (January 1962): 2; see board of directors, October 23, 1961, Box 4, Folder 11, BHR. 114. San Francisco Chronicle, December 8, 196l; Spokesman Review, January 28, 1962; San Francisco Chronicle, January 19, 1962; board of directors, memorial upon the death of Stanly Alexander Easton, January 29, 1962, Box 4, Folder 11, BHR; Spokesman Review, February 11, 1962; Bunker Hill Reporter 7 (February 1962). Two examples from the author’s experiences in Kellogg illustrate this. When visiting the Kellogg Museum I noticed an artifact with the simple label, “Stanly Easton’s Hat.” In answer to my question, the docent noted that no one in Kellogg required any explanation as to who Easton was and why he was significant. While I was in Kellogg to facilitate a library reading program, one of the participants came up to me to comment on the work I was doing to record Bunker Hill history. The one story she wanted to make certain I heard involved her attending a Bunker Hill function during the 1950s. The woman wanted me to know that when Stanly Easton heard she was celebrating a wedding anniversary, he had given her a kiss on the cheek. Almost fifty years later, this remained a high point in her life. 115. Joint Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, April 25, 1961, Box 6, Folder 43, BHR. 116. NWMW newsletter, December 4, 1961, Local No. 18 Papers. 117. Letter to the editor, North Idaho Press, September 11, 1961. 118. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, June 27, 1962, Box 6, Folder 43, BHR. 119. Alvin K. Kroll, smelter superintendent, “Staff Reports to Board of Directors,” January 31, 1965, 46, Box 7, Folder 57, BHR. 120. “Lead Poisoning Charge Aired by Unknowns,” Kellogg Evening News, June 29, 1961; “Mine Inspector Says Letter Just Work of Group of Inciters,”

248

NOTES TO PAGES 161–64

Kellogg Evening News, June 30, 1961; “Lead Poisoning Case Affidavits Requested,” Spokesman Review, July 1, 1961. See Peter Piekarski reminiscences (in author’s possession). 121. A. Y. Bethune, manager of metallurgy, “Staff Reports to Board of Directors,” August 1, 1961, Box 7, Folder 53, BHR. 122. Bunker Hill Reporter 6 (June 1964): 4. 123. Spokesman Review, October 29, 1963; Bunker Hill Reporter 8 (November 1963): 1; and 9 (February 1964): 1. 124. William M. Cody, Wall Street Journal, October 16, 1963. 125. The board of directors discussed the possibility of a New York Stock Exchange listing at the July 27, 1964, meeting, Box 4, Folder 12, BHR; Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, November 2, 1964, Box 6, Folder 44, BHR; application for New York Stock Exchange listing, Box 65, Folder 1385, BHR. 126. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, November 2, 1964, Box 6, Folder 44, BHR; Spokesman Review, July 25, 1965. 127. Bunker Hill Reporter 10 (August 1965): 2. 128. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, June 27, 1963, Box 6, Folder 44, BHR; LeVern M. Griffith, manager of plant services, “Staff Reports to Board of Directors,” July 29, 1963, Box 7, Folder 55, BHR; Management/ Operating Committee meeting minutes, August 31, 1964, Box 6, Folder 44, BHR. 129. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, April 7, 1965, Box 6, Folder 45, BHR; “Staff Reports to Board of Directors,” January 30–31, 1966, Box 7, Folder 58, BHR. 130. Charles E. Schwab remarks to Kellogg Chamber of Commerce, February 16, 1967, BHR. 131. Spokesman Review, April 21, 1965. 132. News release, June 14, 1966; Spokesman Review, June 19, 1966. 133. Spokane Daily Chronicle, December 3, 1966; Wall Street Journal, March 31, 1966. 134. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, April 4, 1967, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR. They deleted this information from the annual report because they did not want to alert the union to the situation. 135. News release, March 17, 1967. 136. Ibid.; board of directors meeting minutes, May 18, 1964, Box 63, Folder 1360, BHR; Kellogg Evening News, June 3, 1964; American Metal Market, June 3, 1964. 137. News release, May 4, 1967. For information regarding Higdon costs, see Box 63, Folder 1361, BHR. 138. North Idaho Press, April 7, 1966, and April 19, 1966. 139. Schwab at stockholders meeting, April 19, 1966, Box 4, Folder 12, BHR; Idaho Daily Statesman, April 20, 1966.

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140. The board unanimously voted that a Gulf Sulphur Corp. suggestion of merger was “not of interest.” Board of directors meeting minutes, April 19, 1966, Box 4, Folder 11, BHR; the Executive Committee meeting on July 6, 1967, received an offer from Dillingham Corp. and declined it at the September 28, 1967, board meeting, Box 4, Folder 11, BHR. 141. New York Times, June 22, 1966. 142. Schwab to stockholders, December 12, 1967. 143. Board of directors meeting minutes, December 11, 1967, and January 29, 1968, Box 4, Folder 12, BHR. 144. News release, Homestake Mining Company, December 18, 1967, Box 74, Folder 1543, BHR. 145. Joel Ream, “Bunker Hill Control Battle Changes,” Spokesman Review, January 7, 1968. 146. Ibid. 147. Spokesman Review, January 11, 1968; North Idaho Press, January 29, 1968, and February 1, 1968. According to Harry Magnuson, it was, ironically, a person with Idaho connections whose stock sale clinched the deal for Gulf. A. Darius Davis was a 1929 University of Idaho graduate who became an owner of the Wynn and Lovett Grocery Company, one of the largest grocery chains in the nation. Harry Magnuson, interview by author, April 23, 1995, Wallace, Idaho. Magnuson was an officer at Hecla and on the Bunker Hill Board of Directors. 148. North Idaho Press, February 15, 1968. 149. The Executive Committee, Bunker Hill Board of Directors, reviewed the Gulf sequence of events. February 20, 1968, Box 4, Folder 12, BHR; minutes of adjourned special meeting of board of directors, May 25, 1968, Box 4, Folder 12, BHR. 150. Spokesman Review, February 3, 1968; Kellogg Evening News, February 8, 1968; Coeur d’Alene Press, February 9, 1968; KWAL, February 14, 1968; Kellogg Evening News, February 15, 1968. 151. Spokesman Review, April 7, 1968. 152. “The Battle of Bunker Hill,” Forbes (March 15, 1968): 52; Time 9 (June 7, 1968). 153. Bunker Hill Reporter 13 (February 1968): 1. 154. Special board of directors meeting minutes, March 18, 1968 and reconvened March 25, 1968, Box 4, Folder 12, BHR. 155. News release, April 23, 1968; North Idaho Press, April 23, 1968; Spokane Daily Chronicle, May 28, 1968; Kellogg Evening News, May 28, 1968; stockholder meeting minutes, May 28, 1968. The vote was 591 to 928 for merger and 111 to 962 against, without the Gulf shares; 1,131,728 for and 111,962 against, with the Gulf shares, Box 4, Folder 12, BHR. 156. Spokane Daily Chronicle, June 3, 1968. 157. Kellogg Evening News, May 19, 1968, and July 25, 1968.

250

NOTES TO PAGES 168–70

CHAPTER 6 1. Spokane Daily Chronicle, July 23, 1968. William Hewitt had a degree in chemistry from Harvard. He joined the Bunker Hill Company in 1958 as staff assistant to Jack Bradley and had served as general manager of the Pacific Division and as assistant to the president before assuming the Bunker Hill presidency, in 1968. Bunker Hill Reporter 13 (June 1968): 1, Box 83, Folder 1878, BHR. 2. Spokesman Review, August 26, 1969. 3. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, July 26, 1968, BHR; Gulf Resources & Chemical Corp. statement of general policies and procedures, Box 98, Folder 2229, BHR. 4. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, December 12, 1968, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR. 5. Management Committee meeting minutes, August 26, 1969, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR (emphasis in original). 6. Kellogg Evening News, January 22, 1969. 7. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, June 10, 1969, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR. 8. Gulf consolidated financial statement, December 31, 1969, marked “Confidential,” Box 33, Folder 555, BHR. 9. Western Mining News, April 10, 1970. 10. Kellogg Evening News, November 12, 1969; Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, June 10, 1969, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR; Gulf news release, April 22, 1969, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR. 11. Bunker Hill Reporter 14 (January 1969): 1. 12. Gulf news release, November 28, 1969, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR; Western Mining News, April 10, 1970. 13. See Spokane Daily Chronicle, October 5, 1970, and December 3, 1970. Bunker Hill officials continued to claim that there was no scientific evidence that lead additives to gasoline harmed the environment, despite the fact that the Environmental Protection Agency required a gradual phase-out of lead in gasoline beginning in 1973. See “GAP News,” April 1, 1976, Box 83, Folder 1867, BHR. 14. Gulf news release, March 16, 1970, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR. Woodruff had a degree in mining engineering and geology from Michigan Technical University. He worked for Kennecott Copper in various capacities before coming to the Bunker Hill Company. 15. Bunker Hill news release, August 11, 1971, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR; Kellogg Evening News, June 2, 1971, and August 11, 1971. 16. Cadmium dropped from two dollars and twenty-five cents to two dollars and fifty cents per pound, antimony from ninety-six cents to fifty-seven cents per pound. Bunker Hill news release, August 11, 1971, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR.

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17. Bunker Hill news release, July 28, 1971, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR; Spokesman Review, August 3, 1971; Halley had a degree in metallurgical engineering from New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology and came from Western Knapp Engineering. 18. Kellogg Evening News, February 17, 1971; “Management Newsletter,” November 26, 1971, Box 84, Folder 1889, BHR; Spokane Daily Chronicle, May 29, 1970, and July 30, 1970. 19. Idaho Daily Statesman, November 17, 1971. 20. Quoted in the Bunker Hill “Management Newsletter,” November 26, 1971, Box 84, Folder 1889, BHR. 21. Spokane Daily Chronicle, July 23, 1968; EMJ 170 (July 1969): 12, and 170 (October 1969): 136. 22. EMJ 170 (August 1969): 149; Bunker Hill Reporter (September 1970): 3. 23. See “Smelter Smoke to Be Captured,” Kellogg Evening News, April 24, 1970; “New Pollution Control Project on at Bunker Hill,” Kellogg Evening News, May 26, 1970; “The Battle of Bunker Hill,” Pacific Building and Engineer (August 21, 1970): 332–34; “End to Pollution Problem Expected by Bunker Hill,” Spokane Daily Chronicle, May 21, 1971. 24. EMJ 170(November 1969): 135. 25. “End to Pollution Problem,” Spokane Daily Chronicle, May 21, 1971. 26. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, July 27, 1971, Box 7, Folder 51, BHR. 27. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, May 15, 1972, Box 7, Folder 51, BHR. 28. OSHA complaint against Bunker Hill, in evidence file Edna Grace Yoss, Raymond Hans Yoss, Arlene Mae Yoss, Paula A. McCartney, John S. McCartney, Raymond E. Dennis, and Harley L. Dennis, minors, by the Guardian ad Litem, Brian J. Linn, and Richard A. McCartney and Christina M. McCartney v. The Bunker Hill Company, a Delaware Corporation and Gulf Resources and Chemical Corporation, a Delaware Corporation, U.S. District Court for the District of Idaho, No. CIV-772030 (hereafter cited as Yoss Case). 29. “Complaint,” July 26, 1972, against Bunker Hill to OSHA from United Steelworkers, Local No. 18 Papers. 30. Alfred Eiguiren, administrative director, Air Pollution Control Commission, to State of Idaho Dept. of Highways, October 15, 1971, in evidence file, Yoss Case. 31. Idaho Dept. of Health and Welfare, to Bunker Hill, June 21, 1971; G. M. Baker to A. P. Lennon, memo, “El Paso Lead Episode,” July 6, 1973, both Yoss Case. 32. “Lead Testing Was ‘Unreliable,’“ North Idaho Press, September 24, 1981. 33. Air Pollution Control Section, Idaho Dept. of Health and Education, Air Pollution Control Commission, Proposed Implementation Plan for the Control of Air

252

NOTES TO PAGES 173–76

Pollution in the State of Idaho, Gene Baker Testimony, V2, Special Collections, University of Idaho Library. See also Rabe and Flaherty, River of Green and Gold, 50–51. 34. Woodruff, memo to all employees, January 28, 1971, Local No. 18 Papers; Bunker Hill news release, December 21, 1971, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR. 35. Idaho Daily Statesman, December 25, 1971, 21. 36. See, for example, Mrs. Noel J. Lewandowski to Gov. Cecil Andrus, February 12, 1971, Yoss Case. 37. Complaint in evidence file, Yoss Case. 38. Bunker Hill newsletter, January 22, 1973, Box 13, Folder 207, BHR. See “Background on the Bunker Hill Company Lead Smelter Stack News Release,” Box 14, Folder 222, BHR. 39. EMJ 174 (November 1973): 234. 40. See Elburt F. Osborn, “Mining Industry Must Become Truly Concerned with Ecology,” Mines Magazine (August 1971): 7–9; H. R. Spedden, “Impact of Environmental Controls on Nonferrous Metals Extraction,” Mining Congress Journal (December 1970): 57–63. 41. “President’s Message,” Bunker Hill Reporter 16 (July/August 1971): 2, Box 83, Folder 1881, BHR. 42. Confidential budget request to Gulf, 2, affidavits, Yoss Case. 43. See Robert L. Russell, mine superintendent, and Gene W. Pierson, manager of industrial engineering, “Profitability Control at Bunker Hill Mine,” Mining Congress Journal (September 1970): 38–44. 44. See Bunker Hill Reporter (December 1970): 3, Box 83, Folder 1880, BHR. 45. See Russell and Henry W. Zimmerman, project engineer, “Ramp Development of Deep Ore Bodies at Bunker Hill Mine,” 10, Box 76, Folder 1736, BHR. 46. Spokane Daily Chronicle, November 4, 1968. 47. Spokane Daily Chronicle, July 23, 1968, and January 30, 1969; Kellogg Evening News, February 13, 1969, and March 10, 1969. 48. Gulf press release, February 2, 1970, Box 83, Folder 1857, BHR; Halley to Woodruff, memo, August 15, 1974, summarizing Higdon history, Box 15, Folder 255, BHR. 49. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, June 1, 1971. The committee passed out letter to employees with this Glover information, Box 7, Folder 51, BHR. 50. Bunker Hill Reporter 16 (July/August 1972): 2–3, Box 83, Folder 1852, BHR. 51. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, December 12, 1968, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR; Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, January 24, 1969, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR. See “Bunker Hill Zinc Plant and Cell Room Mechanization Study,” 1973, Box 3, Folders 112–13, MG No. 187, University of Idaho Special Collections.

NOTES TO PAGES 176–80

253

52. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, January 24, 1969, p. 7, Box 7, Folder 47, BHR. 53. Bill Woolum, “On Needing Richard Hugo,” Copia lecture, Seattle, Wash., October 19, 2002. 54. Bunker Hill Reporter 14 (October 1969), Box 83, Folder 1879, BHR. 55. EMJ 173 (August 1972): 9–10; Bunker Hill Reporter 16 (May/June 1972): 1, Box 83, Folder 1882, BHR. 56. Bunker Hill Reporter 16 (July/August 1972): 1–2; Bunker Hill Reporter 16 (May/June 1972): 1, and (July 6, 1972), Box 83, Folder 1882, BHR. 57. Management/Operating Committee meeting minutes, July 27, 1971, Box 7, Folder 51, BHR. 58. Northwest Metal Workers Board of Directors to members, January 3, 1970, and March 17, 1970, Local No. 18 Papers. 59. Kellogg Evening News, May 8, 1970. 60. North Idaho Press, March 12, 1970 (emphasis in original). 61. Ibid. 62. Frank M. Woodruff, President to each Employee, November 5, 1970, Local No. 18 Papers. 63. Woodruff, “President’s Message,” Bunker Hill Reporter (December 1970): 2, Box 83, Folder 1880, BHR. 64. L. G. Alkire, secretary treasurer, NWMW, to Peter Piekarski, November 25, 1970; “Rejects” to NWMW, December 14, 1970; Piekarski to United Steelworkers international representative, December 7, 1970, Local No. 18 Papers. 65. NLRB Order to Show Cause, Case No. 19-AC-10, July 25, 1972; civil complaint, U.S. District Court, CIV 2-72-20, June 15, 1972, p. 8, Local No. 18 Papers. Not everyone in the NWMW Union welcomed the merger. Jearl Batch, Donald Colegrove, and A. A. Tomko—NWMW local officers in the Pend Oreille Mines & Metals, a mine in Metaline Falls, Washington—attempted to fight the merger with a rearguard action through the NLRB, but their efforts were unsuccessful. 66. Mine-Mill had merged with United Steelworkers in 1966. 67. Local No. 18 grievance notes, Local No. 18 Papers. 68. Robert Woodward and Carl Bernstein, “Bunker Hill Said Involved in Campaign Contributions,” UP, Spokesman Review, October 7, 1972. 69. “Intermittent Curtailment System,” Bunker Hill Reporter (January/ February 1973): 3, Box 83, Folder 1883, BHR. 70. Baker, Bunker Hill vice president for environmental affairs, deposition, June 4, 1979, p. 107, Yoss Case. 71. Ian H. von Lindern, environmental engineer, Idaho Dept. of Health and Welfare, “File Note, Baghouse Fire at Bunker Hill,” September 30, 1974, Yoss Case. 72. Baker deposition, pp. 105, 128, 130, Yoss Case. 73. Evidence attached to Baker deposition, p. 239, Yoss Case.

254

NOTES TO PAGES 180–83

74. Shoshone Lead Health Project Report, 1975, 92; Dr. Lee Stokes to von Lindern, memo, “Ambient Lead Air Quality Information, Kellogg Area,” April 29, 1975, Yoss Case. 75. Gulf news release, October 19, 1973, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR. 76. D. A. Bancel to Woodruff, memo, March 24, 1975; Halley to NLI, December 7, 1973, Box 14, Folder 213, BHR; Bunker Hill Reporter 18 (January/February 1974), Box 83, Folder 1884, BHR. 77. See Five-Year Summary, Bunker Hill Company, in Gulf Resources and Chemical Co. Annual Report for 1977, p. 9, Box 6, Folder 35, BHR. 78. Gulf news release, October 16, 1973, Box 15, Folder 216, BHR. 79. Houston, Texas news release, October 18, 1973, Box 15, Folder 216, BHR; Robert E. Bowman to Halley, October 19, 1973, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR; Geology and Exploration Planning Book pages. 80. Randall, “Social Problem Careers” (Ph.D. diss.), 4. 81. Bunker Hill Reporter (May 1968) and (July/August 1976); “The Weaker Sex? Women Return to Operations Payroll,” Bunker Hill Reporter (November/ December 1973): 3, Box 83, Folder 1883, BHR. Studies of women in mining throughout the country demonstrate that women worked in the industry primarily to achieve higher rates of pay. See Norris and Cypres, Women of Coal; and Moore, Women in the Mines. 82. “The Women Who Work Where Only Men Were,” Bunker Hill Reporter (July/August 1976): 2, Box 83, Folder 1886, BHR. 83. Randall, “Social Problem Careers” (Ph.D. diss.), 60. 84. “GAP News,” May 19, 1976, Box 83, Folder 1868, BHR. 85. Bunker Hill Reporter (March/April 1975): 1, Box 83, Folder 1885, BHR. 86. “President’s Message,” Bunker Hill Reporter 19 (November/December 1975): 2, Box 83, Folder 1885, BHR. 87. Hawley to Jack M. Webb, October 16, 1974, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR. 88. Von Lindern and George Dekan to Jerry Cobb, Idaho State Dept. of Environmental and Community Services, May 6, 1974, Yoss Case. 89. Cancer and Birth Defects Division, Bureau of Epidemiology, to director, Centers for Disease Control, memo, “Human Lead Absorption Near a Smelter— Kellogg, Idaho,” March 18, 1975, for administrative use, limited distribution, not for publication, Yoss Case. 90. Gene Baker to land owners in the Kellogg area, April 29, 1974, Box 14, Folder 220, BHR; Baker deposition, p. 64, Yoss Case. See George E. Burrows, “Lead Toxicosis in Domestic Animals: A Review of the Role of Lead Mining and Primary Lead Smelters in the United States,” Veterinary and Human Toxicology 23 (1981); Joseph F. Keely, A Study of Heavy Metal Pollution in the Coeur d’Alene Mining District: Student originated Studies Project to the NSF (Moscow: University of Idaho Press, 1976). 91. Bunker Hill Reporter (March/April 1974): 2, Box 83, Folder 1884, BHR.

NOTES TO PAGES 183–86

255

92. Ed Pommerening, forester, Bunker Hill Company, “Revegetation of the Coeur d’Alene Mining District,” Mining Congress Journal (March 1977): 20–22. 93. “GAP News,” January 28, 1976, Box 83, Folder 1867, BHR. See EMJ (April 1976): 137. By 1978, Bunker Hill had planted 330,000 trees and shrubs and planned to plant 350,000 more the following year. 94. George Doran, Bunker Hill, to Webb, secretary and assistant general counsel, Gulf, memo, “Draft of Narrative for Annual Report, 1977,” January 20, 1978, BHR. 95. Halley to Woodruff, “Lead Smelter Master Plan,” June 20, 1974, Box 16, Folder 292, BHR. 96. See “The Poisoned Kellogg Children,” editorial, Lewiston Morning Tribune, September 14, 1974. 97. Shoshone County Lead Health Study Report, 1975, 95. 98. “An Open Letter to the People of Shoshone County,” from Dr. Glen Wegner, director, Shoshone County Lead Health Project, January 1975, Yoss Case. 99. “State Releases Partial Results of Lead Study,” Kellogg Evening News, October 3, 1974. 100. Cassandra Tate, “State Agency Still Studies Fate of Silver King School,” Lewiston Morning Tribune, February 25, 1975; Tate, “American Dilemma,” 82; Kim Price, “Scientist: Bunker Hill Shot Down Blood Lead Study,” Idaho Daily Statesman, September 23, 1981. 101. Baker deposition, p. 214, Yoss Case. President James Halley sent a letter to Silver King residents, January 8, 1975, regarding the destruction of the houses and advised them, “We want to assure you that our activities in your community will be conducted with the utmost regard for your safety and the protection of your property.” Box 14, Folder 220, BHR. 102. Randall, “Social Problem Careers” (Ph.D. diss.), 61. According to Randall, Halley was the father of a thirty-year-old, mentally handicapped daughter, and he believed her birth in Kellogg was a contributing factor to her handicap. 103. Baker deposition, pp. 74–82, Yoss Case. See Ruth Heifetz, “Women, Lead, and Reproductive Hazards: Defining a New Risk,” in Rosner and Markowitz, Dying for Work, 160–69, especially p. 160 on Eula Bingham. 104. See Halley to James A. Bax, confidential memo, July 23, 1974, Yoss Case. 105. Baker to Theodore Rogowski, EPA hearing officer, August 12, 1975, Yoss Case. 106. Von Lindern to Stokes, “Bunker Hill SO2 Regulation S,” May 29, 1975, Yoss Case. 107. Von Lindern to Stokes, memo, “Environmental Control Strategies with the Bunker Hill Company, Shoshone County, Idaho,” June 5, 1975 (copies to Bob Olson, Murray Michael, Monte MacConnell, Tony Yankel, Jim Kimball, exhibits), Yoss Case.

256

NOTES TO PAGES 187–89

108. Gelb Marketing Research, “Outline of Bunker Hill Research,” January 29, 1975, Box 14, Folder 228, BHR. Bunker Hill hired Gelb to conduct preliminary research for the public relations firms. 109. Although the program suggested Deadwood Gulch was an appropriate name for the barren land near the smelter, the area was named for the famous mining district long before the smelter was even constructed. See Tate, “American Dilemma,” 78–79; Michael G. Steinheimer to Halley, February 22, 1975, Box 13, Folder 206, BHR. 110. Halley to all employees working in smelter and zinc plant, April 24, 1975; Corporate Policies and Procedures, 420.3, issued April 24, 1975, Box 14, Folder 221, BHR. 111. Resolution adopted at the regular meeting of May 7, 1975, USWA, Local No. 7854, Local No. 18 Papers. 112. Log of occupational injuries and illnesses, OSHA Form 100, January 3, 1972, to May 27, 1975, Box 14, Folder 232, BHR. 113. See, for example, “Who’s Watching Kellogg?” (Pocatello) Idaho State Journal, July 30, 1975; Halley to all Bunker Hill employees, September 17, 1975, Box 15, Folder 279, BHR. 114. Von Lindern to Stokes, memo, April 29, 1975, Yoss Case. Von Lindern later testified during the Yoss trial that he had lost his contracts with the Idaho Dept. of Health and Welfare due to pressure from Gene Baker and the Bunker Hill Company. Price, “Bunker Hill Shot Down,” Idaho Statesman, September 23, 1981; Tony Yankel to Murray Michael, April 28, 1975, Yoss Case. Von Lindern’s engineering firm had been a major contractor in the Bunker Hill Superfund site cleanup. Congress established the Superfund Program in 1980. Administered by the Environmental Protection Agency, the program works to clean up the country’s worst pollution sites. 115. Yankel to Michael, “Status of Present Issues Concerning the Kellogg Valley,” April 25, 1975, exhibit, Yoss Case. 116. Dr. John A. Mather, state epidemiologist, to Dr. Lee Stokes, Idaho Dept. of Health and Welfare, April 25, 1975, Yoss Case; U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, notice of violation, Case No. X75-03-21-113, June 17, 1975, Yoss Case. 117. Robert Allen to Zinc Institute, speech, Bunker Hill Reporter (March/April 1976): 3, Box 83, Folder 1886, BHR. 118. Cassandra Tate, “Kellogg Warned of Food Danger,” Lewiston Morning Tribune, March 7, 1975. 119. Baker to Stokes, administrator, Environmental Services Division, Idaho Dept. of Health and Welfare, January 5, 1976, Yoss Case. 120. “Tall Stacks Deferred, EPA Ruling Appealed,” Bunker Hill Reporter (November/December 1975): 1, Box 83, Folder 1885, BHR. 121. EMJ 177 (January 1976): 148.

NOTES TO PAGES 189–93

257

122. Gulf news release, “Background on the Bunker Hill Company Lead Smelter Stack,” Box 14, Folder 222, BHR, p. 6. 123. William F. Boyd and Edward Seger to Baker, privileged and confidential memo, December 12, 1975, Box 13, Folder 206, BHR. 124. “Bunker Hill’s Second Tall Stack: A Gamble on Reasonable SO2 Rules,” EMJ 177 (September 1976): 23–24. 125. Bunker Hill environmental fact sheet, December 1976, Box 77, Folder 1766, BHR. 126. Hardship argument against wage and price controls, Box 3, Folder 189, BHR. 127. Halley to Woodruff, January 7, 1977, Box 16, Folder 295, BHR. 128. “Ninth District Court of Appeals Long Awaited Decision re SO2,” EMJ 178 (September 1977): 304. 129. See “Bunker Faces $20 Million Suit,” Coeur d’Alene Press, June 3, 1977. 130. Ibid. 131. Letter to all Bunker Hill hourly employees, May 20, 1977, Box 15, Folder 287, BHR. 132. Halley to all salaried employees, May 10, 1977, Box 15, Folder 282, BHR. 133. Kellogg Evening News, June 21, 1977. 134. See Steelworkers, “Victory Is Ours” flyer, Local No. 18 Papers. 135. Strike bulletin No. 8, Local No. 18 Papers; Kellogg Evening News, June 22, 1977. 136. Kellogg Evening News, August 2, 1977. 137. Ibid., September 1, 1977. 138. October management meeting from Jerry Howard, December 9, 1977, Box 15, Folder 269, BHR. 139. “Gals Air Opinions at Union Meeting,” Kellogg Evening News, September 9, 1977; Kellogg Evening News, September 14 and 19, 1977; “District Wage Rate Comparison,” July 1, 1977, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR. 140. E. V. Howard, Bunker Hill president, to Woodruff, Gulf president, memo, “B.H. 3rd Quarter Report,” October 23, 1978, Box 13, Folder 1996, BHR. 141. Howard to Webb, secretary and assistant general counsel, Gulf, memo, July 20, 1978, Box 13, Folder 196, BHR; Howard to J. T. Northcutt, assistant controller, Gulf, memo, October 23, 1978, Box 13, Folder 196, BHR. 142. Howard to Northcutt, October 23, 1978, Box 13, Folder 196, BHR. 143. Presentation to Gulf Board of Directors, August 22, 1978, Box 13, Folder 193, BHR. 144. Howard to Ray Marshall, secretary of labor, and Eula Bingham, assistant secretary of labor, mailgram, January 31, 1978, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR. 145. J. Allen Overton, Jr., president, American Mining Congress, to chief executive officers of the Copper, Lead and Zinc Smelting Companies, mailgram, January 17, 1978, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR.

258

NOTES TO PAGES 193–96

146. Coeur d’Alene Press, June 6, 1979. 147. Howard to Allen, Anti-OSHA movement by Bunker Hill hourly employees, July 25, 1979, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR. 148. Howard to Allen, memo, July 10, 1978, Box 14, Folder 216, BHR. 149. “The Lead Industry’s Awesome Air-Pollution Task,” Business Week, September 11, 1978, 130. See Bryce I. MacDonald and Moshe Weiss, “Impact of Environmental Control Expenditures on Copper, Lead, and Zinc Practices,” Mining Congress Journal 64 (January 1978): 45–50. 150. See, for example, J. Allen Overton, Jr., president, American Mining Congress, to AMC Ad Hoc Nonferrous Smelter Group, May 12, 1978, Box 15, Folder 262, BHR. 151. Jack W. Kendrick, “President’s Message,” in “Bunker Hill Company 1979 Annual Report to Employees,” 2, Box 77, Folder 1773, BHR. 152. Howard and Donald Dubois, EPA, record of discussion, January 3, 1979, Box 13, Folder 187, BHR. 153. Howard to Allen (copy to Woodruff), “Smelter Closure-News Release,” January 2, 1979, telecopy message, Box 13, Folder 187, BHR. 154. Bunker Hill statement in response to Bliss letter, Box 13, Folder 187, BHR. 155. Bunker Hill news release, June 6, 1979, Box 13, Folder 189, BHR; Howard to various officials, June 11, 1979, Box 13, Folder 189, BHR; compliance order settlement agreement, EPA, No. X75-03-21-113, Box 14, Folder 213, BHR. 156. “Bunker Hill 1979 Annual Report to Employees,” Box 77, Folder 1773, BHR. 157. Hardship arguments re: wage and price controls, Box 13, Folder 189, BHR. 158. Supervisory newsletter, June 1–15, 1978, Box 77, Folder 1768, BHR. 159. See Simon D. Strauss, ASARCO, to Halley, July 20, 1978; Howard to Simon Strauss, July 25, 1978, Box 13, Folder 190, BHR; “Getting it Done,” Spokesman Review, December 24, 1978. 160. EMJ (April 1978): 9. 161. Presentation to Gulf Board of Directors, August 22, 1978, Box 13, Folder 193, BHR. 162. “Supervisors Newsletter,” July 1–15, 1978, Box 77, Folder 1768, BHR; Howard to R. N. Gilges and A. L. Juhl, June 19, 1978, Box 14, Folder 244, BHR. 163. Mr. Allen, October management meeting minutes, memo, October 24, 1978, Box 15, Folder 269, BHR; W. J. Lampard to Howard, March 2, 1979, Box 13, Folder 188, BHR. 164. Howard to Woodruff, September 20, 1979, Box 13, Folder 189, BHR; “Supervisory Newsletter,” June 1–15, 1978; Howard to Management/Operating Committee, September 7, 1979, Box 13, Folder 189, BHR.

NOTES TO PAGES 197–201

259

165. Howard to Vice President R. C. Colgan, memo, marked “confidential,” “Cash Conservation Program,” February 27, 1979, Box 13, Folder 187, BHR. 166. Bunker Hill Company “Supervisors Newsletter,” May 1980, Box 77, Folder 1779, BHR. 167. Bunker Hill Intercom 1, no. 1 (July 198l), Box 84, Folder 1889, BHR; excerpt from Robert Allen’s address to stockholders, May 11, 1981, Box 77, Folder 1779, BHR. 168. “1980 Annual Report to Employees,” “President’s Message” from Jack Kendrick, Box 77, Folder 1776, BHR. 169. “Supervisors Newsletter,” February 1980, Box 77, Folder 1779. 170. Turnbow to Howard, “confidential,” Special Management Team for Planning the 1980 Union Negotiations, April 26, 1979, Box 14, Folder 231, BHR. 171. Kendrick to Allen and Woodruff, confidential interoffice memo, fall labor negotiations, May 22, 1980, Box 14, Folder 231, BHR. 172. “GRC Shows Mid-Year Losses,” Intercom 1 no. 2 (August 1981): 1–4, Box 84, Folder 1889, BHR. 173. Howard to Management/Operating Committee, September 7, 1979, Box 13, Folder 189, BHR; Kendrick to Woodruff, January 7, 1980; Kendrick to Mr. Ray Groth, First Boston, March 14, 1980; George Petty, vice president of finance, to Joe Frelinghausen, First Boston, June 26, 1980, Box 13, Folder 211, BHR. 174. Kendrick, interview by author, August 24, 1994. 175. R. C. Colgan to Jan Gurley, October 30, 1980, Box 14, Folder 217, BHR. 176. Baker and Jack Welsh to Allen, January 12, 1979; Baker to Allen, January 14, 1979, Yoss Case. 177. Walt Harris, “OSHA Fines Bunker Hill on Sterility Policy,” Metals Daily (September 16): 1. 178. “The Lead Industry’s Awesome Air-Pollution Task,” Business Week, September 11, 1978, p. 130. 179. Randall, “Social Problem Careers” (Ph.D. diss.), 83. 180. Ibid., 90. 181. Betty Sims, civil rights investigator, to James P. Keane, attorney at law, Re: Hamp. v. The Bunker Hill Co., Complaint Nos. E-0480-126 and 101 801433, enclosing the written findings in those cases, Yoss Case. 182. Keane to Sims, October 8, 1980, Yoss Case. 183. NLI to all members, July 8, 1980, BHR. 184. “Bunker Hill Agrees to Pay $2 Million,” Idaho Daily Statesman, October 24, 1981. Statesman reporters could find no one in Kellogg who agreed with the settlement. “Kellogg Folks Decry Bunker ‘Rip Off,’“ Idaho Daily Statesman, October 24, 1981. People in Kellogg maintain that the children involved in the Yoss case suffered from neglect and a filthy home environment and that people who practiced basic

260

NOTES TO PAGES 201–202

hygiene were not leaded. Ray Chapman (former Bunker Hill public relations directory), interview by author, June 8, 1982, Kellogg, Idaho. See also, Gary Strauss, “Bunker Witness Depicts Parents as Drug Users,” Idaho Daily Statesman, October 9, 1981. 185. Kent Swigard, “Lead Poison Case Paints Grim Scene,” Spokesman Review, October 6, 1974. The clipping with the Bunker Hill official’s comments was given to the author by the official’s son. 186. D. R. Brandell to Kendrick, February 25, 1980, Box 14, Folder 211, BHR. 187. Robert Allen, CEO to Douglas M. Costle, EPA administrator, February 21, 1980, Box 14, Folder 211, BHR. 188. Allen, Gulf CEO, form letter, c. 1980, Box 14, Folder 211, BHR. Allen reported that the Gulf PAC had received $18,700 in donations. 189. Intercom 1, no. 2 (August 1981), Box 77, Folder 1779, BHR. 190. “Hunt for Bunker Hill Buyer Ends,” Idaho Daily Statesman, November 11, 1981. 191. Lenny F. Unger, public relations, to Allen, memo, December 4, 1981, Box 14, Folder 211, BHR. 192. “Agreements Spark Optimism,” North Idaho Press, September 23, 1981; Chris Peck, “Environmentalist Is a Dirty Word,” Spokesman Review, September 1, 1981. 193. U.S. EPA, “Special Review of EPA Handling of the Bunker Hill Superfund Site” (Seattle, Wash.: EPA Region 10 Library, 1990), 4. 194. Jim Fisher, “Unskilled Workers Main Concern, Kendrick Says,” Kellogg Evening News, December 2, 1981. 195. See, for example, David Bond, “Bunker Hill Cleanup Cost Looms large,” Spokesman Review, August 26, 1990; Bekka Rauve, “Kellogg Cheers Bunker Hill Cleanup Proposal,” Spokesman Review, February 23, 1991; Steve Massey, ”EPA Probing Ties of 3 Businessmen to Superfund Site,” Spokesman Review, May 12, 1991; Steve Massey, “Bunker Hill Partners File for Protection,” Spokesman Review, July 2, 1991; “Bunker Hill Told to Immediately Move Mine Waste, “ Spokesman Review, October 1, 1991; “New Lead Standard Heightens Concern for Shoshone Kids,“ Spokesman Review, October 8, 1991; “$67 Million Plan Proposed to Clean Up Bunker Hill Site,” Spokesman Review, June 16, 1992; Cynthia Taggart, “Kellogg May Get on Listing but Clinic for Victims of Lead Put on Hold,” Spokesman Review, January 16, 1993; “Firm’s Status Clouds Bunker Cleanup,” Spokesman Review, July 27, 1993; and “Firms Agree to Silver Valley Cleanup,” Spokesman Review, March 3, 1994. 196. Woodward and Clyde Consultants and Terrographics, Interim Site Characterization Report. According to the report, emissions also included 560,000 pounds of cadmium, 860,000 pounds of zinc, 29,000 pounds of mercury, and 70,000 pounds of arsenic.

261

NOTES TO PAGES 205–10

CONCLUSION 1. Bunker Hill description of business, April 1980, Box 13, Folder 211, BHR. 2. Rich Roesler, “Kellogg’s Giant Stacks Bite the Dust,” Spokesman Review, May 26, 1996. 3. Chapman, “Uncle Bunker,” 129; Woolum, “On Needing Richard Hugo,” Copia lecture, October 19, 2002. 4. Susan Drumheller and Craig Welch, “Children Left in the Dust,” Spokesman Review, March 9, 1997. 5. Julie Titone, “Corps Renews Battle for Bunker Hill,” Spokesman Review, September 25, 1998; Craig Welch, “Some Say Fears of Contamination Are Exaggerated,” Spokesman Review, March 9, 1997. 6. Titone, “Cleanup Called Inadequate,” Spokesman Review, September 30, 1998. 7. Zaz Holander, “High Lead Levels in Kids Prompted Campsite Closings,” Spokesman Review, July 9, 1999. 8. Satchell, “Taking Back the Land,” 61–68. I was unable to locate a single reference to the Coeur d’Alene Tribe in the Bunker Hill Records. 9. Karen Dorn Steele, “Digging for Dollars to Pay for Cleanup,” Spokesman Review, August 21, 1998. 10. “Kellogg Activist Honored Nationally,” Spokesman Review, September 7, 2001; Cynthia Taggart, “Activist Wins Gold for Getting Lead Out,” Spokesman Review, September 20, 2001. When Smithsonian magazine recently updated the Kellogg environmental situation in an article titled “Tarnished Luster,” a letter to the editor from a Kellogg resident objected strenuously to the characterization. See Smithsonian 32 (December 2001): 18. 11. Steele, “EPA Strikes Vein of Anger,” Spokesman Review, July 21, 2002; Benjamin Shors, “EPA Is a Bad Word in Burke,” Spokesman Review, July 21, 2002; Steele, “A Legacy of Lead,” Spokesman Review, July 25, 2002.

Selected Bibliography

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———. Inspector of Mines. Annual Report of the Mining Industry in Idaho, 1899–1974. U.S. Congress. House. Coeur d’Alene Labor Troubles. 56th Cong., lst sess., 1899. ———. House Joint Resolution Document 24. 56th Cong., lst sess., 1899. ———. House Joint Resolution Document 1999. 56th Cong., lst sess., 1899. U.S. Congress. Senate. Coeur d’Alene Mining Troubles. 56th Cong., lst sess., 1899. Senate Document 24. ———. Communist Domination of Union Officials in Vital Defense Industry—International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers. Hearing before the subcommittee to investigate the administration of the International Security Act and Other Internal Security Laws of the Committee on the Judiciary. 82nd Congress, 2nd sess., October 6–9, 1952. U.S. Department of Agriculture. Injury to Vegetation and Animal Life, by J. K. Hayward. Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1910. U.S. Department of Interior. Bureau of Fisheries. “Pollution of the Coeur d’Alene River and Adjacent Waters by Mine Waste,” by M. M. Ellis. Special Scientific Report No. 1. Washington, D.C., 1940. ———. Bureau of Mines. Metallurgical Smoke, by Charles H. Fulton. Bulletin 84. Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1915. U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. Special Review of EPA Handling of the Bunker Hill Superfund Site, 1990. U.S. Industrial Commission. Report of the Industrial Commission on the Relations and Conditions of Capital and Labor Employed in the Mining Industry. Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1901. Woodward and Clyde Consultants and Terrographics. Interim Site Characterization Report for the Bunker Hill Site. August 4, 1986. Work Assignment No. 59-OL20, EPA Contract No. 68-01-6939, ES-26, EPA Region 10 Library, Seattle, Wash. Court Cases American Smelting and Refining Company v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company. Equity Case No. 7555, U.S. District Court, District of Oregon (1918). Bunker Hill Mining and Concentrating Company v. Oberder. Circuit Court of Appeals, 79 F. 726–28 (9th Cir. 1897). Edna Grace Yoss, Raymond Hans Yoss, Arlene Mae Yoss, Paula A. McCartney, John S. McCartney, Raymond E. Dennis and Harley L. Dennis, minors by the Guardian ad Litem, Brian J. Linn, and Richard A. McCartney, Christina M. McCartney v. The Bunker Hill Company, a Delaware Corporation, and Gulf Resources and Chemical Corporation, a Delaware Corporation, U.S. District Court for the District of Idaho, No. CIV-77-2030 (1981).

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Elmer Doty v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company. No. 309, Circuit Court, District of Idaho, Northern Division (1910). McCarthy et al. v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, et al. Circuit Court, District of Idaho, 147 F. 981 (1906). McCarthy et al. v. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, et al. Circuit Court of Appeals, 164 F. 927 (9th Cir. 1908). Star Mining Co. v. Federal Mining and Smelting Co. Circuit Court of Appeals, 265 F. 881–89 (9th Cir. May 17, 1920). Manuscript Collections Idaho State Historical Society Borah, William E., Papers. Clark, Governor Barzilla, Papers. Coeur d’Alene Mining Wars vertical files. Hawley, Governor James, Papers. Hunt, Governor Frank W., Papers. Star Mining Company v. Federal Mining and Smelting Company Papers (1920). Peter Piekarski Local No. 18, International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers Papers. University of Idaho Special Collections Manuscript Group No. 5. Stanly Easton Papers. Manuscript Group No. 130. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining Company Records, 1894–1937. Manuscript Group No. 187. Bunker Hill Company. Research and Development Division Records, 1922–1982. Manuscript Group No. 188. Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company Legal Cases, 1899–1902. Manuscript Group No. 367. Bunker Hill Mining Company Records, 1887–1984. Western Historical Collections, University of Colorado at Boulder Western Federation of Miners/International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers Papers. Mining Journals Engineering and Mining Journal Mining and Metallurgy Mining and Scientific Press Mining Congress Journal Mining World

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Index

Adams, Eddie, 139, 156 Accidents, 19–20, 56–57, 116, 223n65, 223n67 AFL-CIO (American Federation of Labor–Congress of Industrial Organizations), 178 Alaska Treadwell (mine), 18, 81 Alexander, Moses, 80–81 Alkire, Leland, 156 Allen, Robert, 170, 199; and demand for profits, 169; and Gulf Resources takeover, 164–65; Nixon contributions, 179; and OSHA, 201 American Federation of Labor (AFL), 81, 103 American Mining Congress, 78 American Protective Association (APA), 23–24, 26, 80, 84 American Smelting and Refining Company (ASARCO), 63, 160, 172; contract with Bunker Hill, 66; East Helena smelter, 96, 163; El Paso smelter, 171; expiration of Bunker Hill ore contract, 100; and lead trust 17, 226n117; Morning mine, 160; smelter closures (1970), 171; suit against Bunker Hill, 72–73; Star litigation, 87, 89; Tacoma smelter, 65, 68

American Zinc Institute, 145, 151 Anaconda (company), 89, 91 Andrus, Cecil, 177, 189 Antimony, 123 Anti-OSHA movement, 194 Apex rights, 14, 60 Arnold, Ray, 124 Aro, Martha, 125 ASARCO. See American Smelting and Refining Company Baghouse, 94, 96, 121, 180 Baker, Gene: and EPA, 186, 201; and Idaho Air Pollution Control Commission, 173; and lead emissions, 183; and lead poisoning at smelter, 199; and state emissions standards, 188 Barnes, Verda W., 126 Baruch, Bernard, 66 Beale, C. W., 64 Beatty, James, 12, 63 Bethune, A. Y., 161–62 Big Creek producers, 91, 147 Bingham, Eula, 200 Blackwell, Jack Benton, 138, 241n13 Blaisdell, James, 148 Bleichart tramway, 9, 15, 17 Bliss, Donald R., Jr., 195

276

Block caving, 127 Borah, William, 49 Boyce, Edward, 22, 30 Boyle, William, 30 Bradford, James S., 107 Bradley, Frederick Worthen: and AFL, 81; and American Protective Association, 23–24; and anti-union policy, 104–105; and Bunker Bullion, 70; Bunker Hill manager, 13, 213n35; and Committee on Lead, 77; death, 35, 72, 97; Easton mentorship, 41–44; and Irish, 23; and Italian workers, 20; and IWW, 79–80; and Kellogg tunnel, 38; and labor, 85–86; and labor shortage, 124; and Miners’ Union, 21–22, 26; as mining engineer, 93; and Prohibition, 55; and safety, 18–19, 20; San Francisco earthquake, 45; Star mine purchase, 87–88; Steunenberg assassination, 48–49; and Tacoma smelter, 18; violence against, 48; and Wardlaw arbitration, 120–21; Western Federation of Miners, 46, 47, 100; and World War I, 76; YMCA, 54–55 Bradley, James, 42 Bradley, Jane Easton, 135, 151 Bradley, John (Jack): and American Zinc Institute, 145; assumes Bunker Hill presidency, 134; Bunker Hill reorganization, 140; death, 151; diversification initiatives, 134, 146–47; fertilizer plant, 147; and Gulf Resources takeover, 167; Kellogg roots, 135–36; Lead Industries Association, 145; and Local No. 18, 148; marriage to Jane Easton, 135; research program, 140; and tariffs, 145–46 Bradley, Mary (Mrs. Frederick), 42, 48 Bradley, Sewell, 42 Bradley, Worthen, 42 Brownwell, Francis, 64 Buck, Norman, 6, 12, 30 Bull pens, 12, 30

INDEX

Bunker Bullion (newspaper), 76, 78 Bunker Hill 99.99 percent zinc, 90 Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company: and antimony 123; and ASARCO contract, 66–67; and Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission, 111; and detectives, 50; diversification, 140; dredge construction, 113; early managementstrategies, 45–46; and Employment Bureau, 46, 78; and Federal case, 60–62; and Guggenheims, 78; housing construction, 128; incorporation, 8; and Kellogg, Idaho, 96; Kellogg school construction, 35; labor policy, 27, 30, 46; and lead in the workplace, 115; and lead poisoning, 92–93; and ational Labor Relations Board, 107–108; ore concentrator destroyed, 27; pollution, 94, 114; San Francisco earthquake, 42; Star mine, 90–91; stock, 97; sulfuric acid plant, 134; and Tainton process, 92; Wardlaw conciliation, 120; and Wardner Industrial Union, 46; World War I profits, 77; World War II women workers, 124–25, 129–30; World War II production, 122–23; and workmen’s compensation, 58; and YMCA, 54–55 Bunker Hill Company: closure, 201–204; fertilizer plant, 147; and First Boston Corporation, 196; Gulf Resources takeover, 165–66; Higdon property, 196; incorporated, 141; laborrelations, 148; and lead poisoning, 182; management changes, 146; and National Lead, 159; New York Stock Exchange, 167; and Northwest Metal Workers, 158; outlook for 1958, 146; phosphoric acid plant, 147; Pioche property, 196; pollution, 144–45, 161–62, 186–87; profits, 190; purchases houses near zinc plant, 185,

INDEX

255n101; and Steelworkers, 191–92; strikes (1960), 150–54, (1977), 191–92; sulfuric acid plant, 134, 160; Supplemental Controls, 188, 189; tall stack construction, 189–90; women workers, 181–82, 185; women workers sterilization policy, 200 Bunker Hill Reporter, 187 Bunker Hill smelter: baghouse, 94, 131, 180; construction, 41, 69–70; financial, 162; expansion, 100–101; Guggenheim attempt to lease, 73; lead poisoning, 93–94, 134;modernization requirements, 144; and NWMW, 155; opening of, 80; ore requirements, 147; output, 135; pollution, 92–93; production (1980), 198; productivity, 160; sintering facility, 135; smoke, 93, 114; and union organizing, 81 Bunker Hill v. Empire State, 37 Bunker Hill zinc plant, 72, 86, 88, 90, 97; begins operation, 91; cell room mechanization, 176;expansion, 127, 144, 162; fans and ventilation, 145; labor contract, 118; and labor organization, 106; need for, 89; sulfuric acid plant, 135; Sullivan Mining Company ownership, 91; smoke, 114 Burbidge, Frederick, 33, 37, 38; Bunker Hill assistant manager, 26; Bunker Hill manager, 27; Federal Company officer, 61; and Kellogg school, 35; and Kellogg tunnel, 38; andlitigation, 38; and tariff, 63 Burleigh drills, 10 Bush, E. A., 131–32 Cadmium, 101–102; 250n16 Caetani, Gelasio, 96, 226n115 Callow screens, 68 Carbide lamps, 59 Caribou (mining claim), 61 Carnegie Company, 66–67 Centers for Disease Control, 182–83

277

Chapman, Ray, 138, 172 Cheyenne (mining claim), 38 Church, Frank, 155 CIO Political Action Committee (CIO-PAC), 125–27, 130–31 Clagett, William, 6 Class difference, 12, 24, 49–50, 134, 154, 213n28 Clauge electrolytic system, 93 Clement, Victor: and Bleichart tramway, 9, 13; Bunker Hill manager, 13; Bunker Hill mining engineer, 8; and Kellogg tunnel, 17; and labor episode of 1892, 13 Coates, D. C., 81 Coe, John Knox, 111 Coeur d’Alene (lake steamer), 7 Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission, 111 Coeur d’Alene Tribe, 209 Colby, William, 61 Collar-to-collar pay, 83, 85 Committee for Industrial Organization (CIO, 1935–38), 109 Committee for United Trade Union Activity, 159, 161 Committee on Lead, 77–78 Commonsense Council, 153–54, 155, 156, 245n81 Communism, 131, 137, 157, 246n98 Communist Party, 130–31, 138, 139 Concentrating, 6, 9 Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO, 1938–55), 130–31, 137–38, 240n12 Coolin, O. M., 125 Cooper, J. T., 3, 5, 6 Corbin, Daniel Chase, 7 Costle, Douglas, 201 Cottrell system, 93–94, 96, 231n79 Crescent mine, 91, 182; and Defense Mineral Exploration Administration, 147; ore discoveries, 163; potential of, 164; production, 198; safety, 177 Cripple Creek, Colo., 32, 35

278

Crocker, William H., 9, 18, 43, 54; on Frederick Bradley, 97 Cuba (mining claim), 38 Curran, Joseph, 125 Curran, Patrick, 19–20 Dale Henderson Inc., 186 D and L roasters, 145 Dam, Anna, 125, 127 Darrow, Clarence, 49 Daugherty, James, 149, 153, 154, 156 Day, Eugene, 88, 90 Day Family, 52, 91 Debris, 63–65, 92, 114 Defense Councils, 80 Defense Mineral Exploration Administration (DMEA), 147 Democratic Party, 37; and Jimmy Carter, 196; and Depression, 115; elections (1898), 26, (1932), 110; and Mine-Mill, 125–26 Double-jacking, 10 Dowell, James G., 92 Drewry, Dan, 209 Dubois, Donald, 194, 201 Dubois, Fred T., 21 Dwight Lloyd equipment, 171 Dworsak, Henry, 125 Easton, Stanly A., 97, 247n14; and accidents, 56–57; and AFL, 81; becomes manager, 66; Bradley-Easton partnership, 41–44; and Bunker Bullion, 76; death, 160; debris claims, 114–15; hired at Bunker Hill, 35; and IWW, 79–80; and Kellogg tunnel, 38; and labor, 51, 82–86, 100; mining engineer, 97; and pollution, 134; and Prohibition, 55; reputation, 99; retirement, 137; and San Francisco earthquake, 45; and smoke claims, 114; and Star litigation, 87–89; and Star purchase, 88; and Stuenenberg assassination, 50; and Western Federation of Miners, 46–47; and World War I patriotism, 73–74; and

INDEX

World War I security concerns, 79–80; and YMCA, 54–55; and zinc plant electricity, 90–91 Edison Storage Battery Company, 77 Electrolytic silver refinery, 196 Ellis, M. M., 113 Emma (mining claim), 15, 38, 61 Empire State-Idaho Company, 14, 15 Employee Representation Committee, 105, 118 Engineering and Mining Journal: antiMiners’ Union, 23; Bunker Hill outlook, 41; Bunker Hill v. Empire State, 37; Curran accident, 19; General Electric hoist, 15; labor policy, 46, 137; lead smelter construction, 69; solarium, 115; tall stacks, 189; zinc plant, 91 Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), 174; ambient air standards, 201; citation of Bunker Hill, 188; Donald Bliss, 195; local response, 209; nonattainment status for Bunker Hill, 194; settlement agreement, 196; and SO2 , 186, 189, 191; Superfund designation for Bunker Hill, 202, 208–209; and Supplemental Controls, 194–95; and tall stack construction, 194 Etherton, Judy, 181 Extralateral rights, 14, 60 Fahey, John, 15, 61 Fedderson, P. C., 119, 121 Federal Mining and Smelting Company, 66; and debris suits, 64–65; and employment bureau, 46, 52; formation, 59–62; and school construction, 117; and Star litigation, 86–87; suit against Bunker Hill, 60–62; tailings discharge, 111 “Fellow Servant” doctrine, 19, 231n84 Fertilizer plant, 147 First Boston Corporation, 196 Fisher, C. D., 92 Flaherty, John, 5

INDEX

Fletcher, George, 161 Flotation process, 113 Folsom, Myron: and accident cases, 57–58; and ASARCO suit, 67; Bunker Hill attorney, 52; and Federal litigation, 61; and tariff, 63 Forney, James, 64 France, Hugh, 32, 34, 48, 218n120 Frankfurter, Felix, 81 French, Burton L., 63 Frisco mill and mine, 12, 22, 46 GAP News, 182 Gem mine, 12, 34 General Sherman (lake steamer), 7 Goetz, “Dutch” Jacob, 5, 96 Gompers, Samuel, 81 Great Depression, 104; and Bunker Hill Company, 99, 102, 108; and smoke claims, 114; and YMCA, 117 Green, William, 103 Guggenheim, Daniel, 67 Guggenheim family, 40, 59; and ASARCO v. Bunker Hill, 67, 73; and Committee on Lead, 78; and lead contracts, 68; and lead trust, 66; reaction to Bunker Hill lead smelter, 70; and Star litigation, 86; Tacoma smelter, 65 Gulf Resources and Chemical Corporation, 168, 179, 200, 207–208; baghouse fire, 180; and Bunker Hill closure, 202–203; Bunker Hill management reorganization, 169; Bunker Hill takeover, 164–66, 207–208, 249n147, 249n155; debt refinanced, 180; and Kellogg community, 171, 173; and lead ambient air standard, 193; and National Lead Institute, 181; and OSHA, 200; pollution control efforts, 172; profit demands, 175; Project X, 198; and safety, 176–77; and Steelworkers, 192–93; and tall stack construction, 203; and Yoss case, 191, 193 Gunn, James, 22

279

Haffner, J. B., 117–18, 124, 171 Haffner, Robert L., 171 Halley, James, 171, 182–84, 188, 191–92, 251n17 Hamilton, Alice, 93 Hammond, John Hayes, 13; advocates electricity, 10; approves Tacoma smelter purchase, 18; Bunker Hill manager, 8; Bunker Hill president, 9 Hanley, L. B., 88 Hanson, Rudy, 131 Hanson, William, 110 Harris, Nathaniel H., 21; and American Protective Association, 24, 26; and Frederick Bradley, 23; Bunker Hill president, 9, 13; and labor, 19, and Populists, 21 Hawley, James, 49 Haymarket (Square riot), 31 Hays, Samuel H., 30 Haywood, William D. (Big Bill), 48–49, 51 Hecla Mining Company, 52, 79, 148; Depression closure of Hecla mine, 100; and employment bureau, 46, 78; Hecla mine ore exhausted, 147; and labor, 104; Lucky Friday mine, 163; and Mine-Mill, 104; and Star litigation, 87–89; and Star mine purchase, 89; andSullivan Mining Company, 91, 141 Heitfeld, Henry, 22 Helena and Frisco Mining Company, 26, 34 Hercules mine, 85–86 Hewitt, William, 170 Heyburn, Weldon B., 6, 19, 60 Higdon property, 164, 175, 196 Hillman, Sidney, 12 Homestead (strike), 31 Hope, Charles, 105 Hornet (mining claim), 38 Horning, R. D., 107 Houghteling, James, 9, 14, 33 Howard, E. Viet, 194–95, 197

280

Huff, Murrin, 156 Hunter mine, 85 Huntington, D. L., 79 “I Am An American Youth” organization, 152, 245n79 Idaho Air Pollution Commission, 173 Idaho Citizens Relief Committee, 155, 245n85 Idaho Emergency Relief Administration (IERA), 109 Idaho State Workman’s Compensation law, 58, 223n74 Industrial Workers of the World (IWW), 79, 80, 85 “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes” (radio program), 146, 148, 150 Intermittent Curtailment System (ICS), 179 International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers (IUMMSW), 81, 178; appearance in district, 82; and Communism, 130–31, 137–38, 239n110; and Democratic party, 125–26, 238n96; and ethnicity, 107; grievances, 128–29; international officials in Kellogg, 151; and NIRA, 103–104; no-strike pledge, 119; NRA codes, 106; organizational efforts, 108–109; 117–18; strike (1949), 131–32; successor to WFM, 81; women, 125, 129–30; Women’s Auxiliary, 132; World War I demands, 83, 86; World War II demand, 121 Irish, 11, 35; Frederick Bradley’s attitude toward, 21, 23; and labor radicalism, 31; and Mine-Mill Union, 33 Jersey Fraction claim, 61 Johnson, A.W., 92 Johnson, Hugh, 107 Joplin, Mo., 32 Jorelman, Ira, 165 J. R. Simplot Corporation, 144, 146

INDEX

Kaiser, Matt, 94 Kellogg, Idaho, 39, 41, 46, 75; and Bunker Hill Company, 53; annexes Bunker Hill concentrator, 54; and Communism, 138; and IWW, 80; and Jack Bradley, 135, 140;hospital, 140; lead levels of residents, 182–83; pollution concerns, 144–45; raises funds for San Francisco earthquake, 45; smelter location, 69–70; utilities, 96; and World War I, 74–76, 78; and World War II, 117; and YMCA, 116 Kellogg, Noah S., 3, 5, 6, 8, 91, 127, 210 Kellogg Chamber of Commerce, 155, 158, 162, 171 Kellogg tunnel, 38, 40–41, 91 Kendrick, Jack W., 194, 198–202 King (mining claim), 38 Kneebone, John, 21 Kootenai (lake steamer), 7–8 KWAL radio station, 132; Blackwell interview, 138; “Industries of the Coeur d’Alenes,” 148; “Labor in Wartime,” 125, 127; Schwab interview, 165 Labarthe, Jules, 93 Labor Management Committee, 124 Ladies Auxiliary (Local No. 65, IUMMSW), 125, 132, 154 Last Chance Mining Company: apex dispute, 15; claim, 6; mine, 17; Sweeny legal battle, 37–38; and Stemwinder, 61–62 Lead Industries Association, 145, 151, 170, 181 Lead smelter. See Bunker Hill smelter Leadville, Colo., 32, 35 Lee, Harold E., 123, 128 LeLashmutt, Van B., 6 Lewis, John L., 103 Liberty Bonds, 80, 228n36 Light House, 96 Likely (mining claim), 38

INDEX

Lindley, Curtis, 14, 33, 34; and 1899 labor dispute, 31; and Stemwinder case, 61 Local No. 18. See Mine-Mill Local No. 18 Lucky Friday mine, 163 Lurgi machines, 171 Maness, Paul, 159 March ore body, 38 Mather, John A., 184 McAuley, George B., 6 McBride, John, 61 McCarthy, James: and debris cases, 64; Hecla president, 52; reaction to Bunker Hill lead smelter, 70; and Star litigation, 89; and Star mine, 88 McClure, James, 193, 201 McConnell, William, 21, 24–25 McCormick, Cyrus, 9 McDonald, Joseph, 26, 34 McDougall, Stanley, 108 McDougall, William, 107–108 McGuire, Patrick J., 109 McKinsey and Company, 146 McWade, Robert M., 83–85 Merriam, Henry Clay, 30, 34 Messerly, Lee, 131 Miller, Barbara, 209 Milling. See Concentrating Mills, D. O., 9, 18 Mine Owners’ Association (MOA), 12; debris cases, 63–65; and employment bureau, 52; formed, 11; GOP contribution, 34; labor episode of 1899, 27; lobbies for troops, 21; and Wallace Press, 37; and Western Federation of Miners, 49–50 Mine Owners’ Protective Association. See Mine Owners’ Association Mine Safety Administration (MSA), 177 Mine-Mill Local No. 18, 82, 150; and Communism, 138–40, 157–58; contract (1956), 144; contract demands

281

(1959), 149–50; and environment, 110–11; maintenance ofmembership agreement, 119; and New Deal, 110; organizing efforts, 109; and speed-up, 142; strike (1949), 132; strike advertisements (1960), 156–57; wildcat strike (1956), 143; World War II demands, 121 Mine-Mill. See International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers Miners’ Union, 15, 21, 22; and Curran accident, 19–20; formed, 11; and hospital fund, 11; nonrecognition by Bunker Hill, 30; and strike (1899), 22 Miners’ Union of the Coeur d’Alenes. See Miners’ Union Mining claims, 59 Mohawk Valley Formula, 155 Morning mine: access to Star mine, 87; Bunker Hill lease, 160; and Mine-Mill, 104; workers strike, 85 Moyer, Charles, 49, 51, 81–83 Muckers, 11 Murray, Philip, 125, 130 National Industrial Recovery Act (NIRA), 103–105 National Labor Board, 105–106, 108 National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), 118, 119; established, 109; representation election at Bunker Hill (1960), 156; representation election at Bunker Hill (1970), 178 National Lead Company, 159, 164 National Lead Industries Association (NLI),151, 181 National Recovery Administration (NRA), 103–104, 106, 107, 233n22 National War Labor Board, 119–21 Nevada Stewart (mining claim), 91 New Deal, 103, 104, 110, 137 Nonferrous Metals Commission, 119, 121–22 North Idaho Telephone Company, 54 Northwest Lead Company, 73, 141

282

Northwest Metal Workers Union (NWMW), 192; and Bunker Hill strike (1960) 157–59; certification election (1970), 178; certified as bargaining agent (1960), 158; formation, 155–56; and Kellogg Chamber of Commerce, 158; and “Rejects,” 159, 179; and speed-up, 160; and Steelworkers, 178–79, 2523n65 No-strike pledge, 119, 236n73 Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA), 200; and ambient lead in workplace, 199; Bunker Hill employees’ opposition to, 193; established, 172; and occupationalinjuries, 187; regulatory concessions, 202; regulatory efforts, 201 Ogilvy and Mather Inc., 186 Orchard, Harry, 48 O’Rourke, Phillip, 3, 5, 60 Page mine, 104 Panke, Ronald K., 173, 184–85 Peck, Chris, 202 Peck, O. O., 3, 5, 6 Pend Oreille Mines and Metals Company, 147, 181, 192; Bunker Hill control of, 128; exploration project, 175; Hecla sale of shares to Bunker Hill, 141 People’s Party (Populists), 22, 24, 32; election of 1894, 21; election of 1898, 26; fusion, 26; in Idaho, 22; and labor episode of 1899, 30–32, 215n69 Pettibone, George, 41, 49, 51 Pfost, Gracie, 155 Phelps-Dodge Company, 81 Phosphoric acid plant, 147 Piekarski, Helen, 154 Piekarski, Peter, 139, 159, 241n19, 246n93 Pine Creek area, 89–90, 100

INDEX

Pinkerton detectives, 12, 51, 216n96 Pioche operation, 196 Pitt (mining claim), 38 Plumbism (lead poisoning), 161 Polak, Jacob, 92 Pollution: and Bunker Hill closure, 202–203; and Coeur d’Alene River and Lake Commission, 111–14; control programs, 172–73, 187, 194; debris cases, 63, 65, 92–94; and EPA, 172–74, 186; and leadsmelter, 180, 183–84; public concern, 161–62; and smelter expansion, 144–45; smelter fumes, 134–35; and SO2 , 189–91; and sulfuric acid plant, 171–72 Populists. See People’s Party Powers, Chase, 151–52, 244n76 Prime Western Zinc, 146 Princeton Mining Company, 175 Quilter, Thomas, 128–29 Ramp development method (mining), 175 Reed, Simeon, 8, 9 Reeves MacDonald (mine), 147, 182 “Reject” club (Rejects), 159, 160–61, 179 Republican Party: Bunker Hill support, 146; election of 1898, 26; Mine Owners’ contribution to, 34; and 1930s, 110 Respirators, 187 Rickard, T. A., 5, 14, 86 Robinson, Reid, 119, 126, 137 Robson, Robert, 153, 155, 158 Rock, John, 63 Rockefeller family, 59 Roosevelt, Franklin D., 125–26, 103, 232n13 Ross, C. Ben, 103, 110 Rubino, Olga, 130 Ryerson, Edward, 9 Safety, 96, 115, 116, 143 177, 236n62 “Safety First,” 59

INDEX

San Carlos (mining claim), 15, 38, 61 Sayers, Royd R., 93 Schwab, Charles E., 158, 162, 164–67 Selby smelter (Calif.), 67, 171 Self-rescuer (MSA), 177 Shea Ore Body, 133 Sherwin Williams Company, 146 Shoshone (mining claim), 38 Shoshone County Anti-Communist Association (SCACA), 139, 151–52, 155 Shoshone County Commonsense Council, 153–55 Shoshone County Lead Health Project, 183–84, 187 Shoup, George L., 21 Shultz, Elwin, 159 Sidney Highland Surprise (mining claim), 91 Sierra Nevada group, 6 Sierra Silver-Lead Mining Company, 175 Silver King School, 185 Silver Valley People’s Coalition, 209 Simmonds, Tom, 35, 38 Single-jacking, 10 Skinner, Albert, 151–52, 244n76 Skookum (mining claim), 38, 61 Slag-fuming plant, 122–23 Smelter. See Bunker Hill smelter Smith, Sarah, 88, 90 Smith-Connally Act, 125–26 Smylie, Robert, 155, 161 Solarium, 94, 115 Spanish-American War, 27 Speed-up, 142–43, 149, 160–61 Star mine, 72, 192, 204; Federal Company litigation, 86–91, 160; nature of ores, 90; ore discoveries, 100–102 Star-Federal case, 89 State Implementation Plans (SIPs), 174 State of Idaho Department of Health and Welfare, 183 Stauffer Chemical Company, 171 Steelworkers. See United Steelworkers of America (USWA)

283

Stemwinder, 15; claim, 6; extralateral rights, 60–61; and Kellogg tunnel, 17, 38 Steunenberg, Frank, 35, 70; assassination, 48–50; and Edward Boyce, 30; Democratic gubernatorial candidate, 27; labor violence of 1899, 34–35, 218n114 Steward, George H., 30 St. Joseph Lead Company, 92 Stokes, Lee, 188 Stoll, William, 5, 63 Strolovich, John, 108 Suction dredge, 113 Sulfur dioxides, 194 Sulfuric acid (SO2): emissions, 182; EPA standards, 186, 191; state of Idaho standards, 174 Sulfuric acid plant, 160 Sullivan, Cornelius “Con”, 5 Sullivan Mining Company: cadmium plant, 102; created, 88–91; curtailed operations during Depression, 100; labor policy, 104; purchased, 141; zinc plant, 106 Summit (mining claim), 38 Sunshine mine, 100; fire, 176, 207; and Mine-Mill, 104, 234n40; and United Steelworkers, 139, 191; and tailings discharges, 111, and Wardlaw arbitration, 120 Superfund, 202, 208, 210 Supplemental Control, 188–89, 194 Swain, Captain W. S., 49 Sweeny, Charles, 6, 14; and Irish, 15; and Last Chance mine, 37; and lawsuits against Bunker Hill, 59–60; retirement, 62; and Rockefellers, 59 Tacoma (Washington) smelter, 17–18, 40; ASARCO contract, 67; Bunker Hill purchase, 44, 65; closure, 68, 171 Taft-Hartley Act: affidavits, 137–38; Bunker Hill response, 132; Local No. 18 response, 130; and IUMMSW, 151

284

Tainton process, 90–91 Tainton, U. C., 90–91 Tall stacks, 186, 190, 196, 203, 205 Tamarack and Custer mine, 85 Tate, Cassandra, 188 Telluride, Colo., 35 Thiel Detective Agency, 49 Travis, Maurice, 132, 137–38 Tregoning, Ernie, 156 Trenton Iron Works, 9 Turnbow, Gerald G., 191 Tyler (mining claim), 15, 38 United Auto Workers (UAW), 131 United Mine Workers, 103 United Steelworkers of America (USWA): Bunker Hill organizing efforts, 139–40; contract (1977), 193; contract (1980), 198; decertification attempts, 159; merger with NWMW, 178–79; and OSHA, 172, 199; strike (1977), 191; and women workers, 181, 185; and worker safety, 187 U.S. Bureau of Fisheries, 111 U.S. Bureau of Mines, 93, 96, 111, 183 U.S. Conciliation Service, 120 U.S. Public Health Service, 111 Viola (mining claim), 38, 61 von Lindern, Ian, 186, 256n114 Walker, Violet, 154 Wallace, Henry, 125 Wallace, J. S., 45, 65, 69 War Industries Board, 73 Wardlaw, Vernon E., 120–21, 236n75 Wardner, Jim, 5, 6, 7 Wardner Industrial Union (WIU), 35, 40, 50, 55, 86; and AFL organizing, 82–84; Bunker Hill bargaining agent, 105; Bunker Hill support of, 46, 70; and Depression, 104; and

INDEX

detectives, 51; formation, 32–33; racial policies, 107; and tariff, 63; and World War I, 74 Wardner News (newspaper), 54 War Labor Board, 81, 119, 123 Washington Water Power Company, and electric hoist, 43–44; and lead smelter, 70; power to mining district, 37; purchases Bunker Hill electrical company, 140; World War I security concerns, 79; and zinc plant 90 Wasp (mining claim), 38 Wegner, Glen, 184 Weinert, Ernest, 139 Western Federation of Miners (WFM), 39, 52, 53, 137; and AFL, 81–82; anti-Chinesesentiments, 33; employment bureau 46; and IWW, 79; organizational efforts, 35; perceived threat to mining industry, 46; and Stuenenberg assassination, 48–51, 70 Wheelbarrow (mining claim), 38 Wickes, Mont., smelter, 7 Wilfley tables, 68 Willey, Norman B., 12 Wilson, Ora, 105, 107 Wood, Merlin, 156 Woodruff, Frank G., 170–74, 178, 250n14 Woods, Major, 5 Woolf, Wallace, 90, 146–48 World War I, 72–74, 78–79, 82 World War II, 99, 122 YMCA, 54–55, 59, 117, 208 Yoss case (Edna Grace Yoss et. al. v. The Bunker Hill Company, et. al.), 191, 193, 201, 259n184 Yreka mining district, 6, 14 Zinc plant. See Bunker Hill zinc plant