The chief obstacle to the development of amusements is, doubtless,

the hours and nature of mill work. Every other week the men work on

night turn. Then they get home early in the morning and are ready,

right after breakfast, for the much needed sleep; at four o'clock in

the afternoon they must be called, and after an early supper they are

off to the mill for the long night. That week there is no chance for

outside festivities, nor chance even for the family to have quiet

evenings together. Sometimes when sons who are also in the mill are

on the opposite shift, the family is not able to meet even for meals.

This irregularity not only tends to break into the family life, but

also by making regular engagements impossible, lessens the interest

in outside things. Even when the men are on day turn and are through

work at half-past five, the ten hours of heavy labor in the mill leave

them little ambition to seek out amusements. The exhausting nature of

the work, coupled with the lack of sleep due to this constant change

of habits, makes them weary enough, as they show by the slow steps and

bent shoulders of the homeward procession. Change of thought and genuine

relaxation are nevertheless a necessity, if the men are to maintain even

mere physical efficiency.

The spirit of the mill is the spirit of work. We have found that

the town itself provides for the men little opportunity for genuine

relaxation after the strain of the day's work; and when we turn to the

town again, seeking whether it offers any stimulus to mental activity,

we find in it the same failure to help in the development of a normal

life. There is the Carnegie Library to be sure, which has classes in

metallurgy, and provides expensive periodicals dealing with the steel

trade as well as general reading matter. But as many a man said to me,

"Oh what's the use of a library when a man works twelve hours a day?"

Although efforts towards a reorganization of the union are practically

at an end, because of the opposition of the mill officials, there

is earnest thinking going on among some of the men about the great

corporation which controls wages and hours, and so much of the rest of

life as is dependent upon them. One man, who during the recent hard

times was not earning enough to pay his rent, said, "I don't blame the

superintendent here for our being out of work, but the men in New York

could help it, only they don't know or don't care what a cut in wages

means to us."

That the changes in wage scale or the decisions to work but half time

last winter, which came to them without explanation, were related to an

industrial depression which affected a whole continent, was but dimly

understood. They knew of dividends, and they knew of wage-cuts. With the

feeling that they are impotent to change conditions, some of the more

thoughtful men are turning to socialism for the larger solution it seems

to offer. I was surprised to hear socialism advocated by the wife of a

mill clerk making two dollars a day. She and her husband were thrifty

people who had just succeeded in buying a piece of property,--not at

all the typical socialists of a conservative man's fears. But in their

twenty years of married life, the clerk's wages had been cut fifteen per

cent. With a growing family, needs had increased, and only stringent

economies, the cutting out even of five cents for the nickelodeon, had

made their home what it was. And now with mills idle and their little

savings rapidly going, a sense of social injustice was making itself

felt.

[Illustration: GOING HOME FROM WORK.

This picture grimly sums up Homestead--the mill at the left, the

Carnegie library on the hill in the center, and the mean houses of the

second ward to the right.]

Recently considerable agitation in regard to the subject was aroused by

the preaching of a minister, who is a Christian-socialist. While many

of the men were keenly interested in his theories, there was so much

opposition among the conservative members of the congregation, that

finally he was obliged to leave. I was told that in one of the first

committee meetings to discuss the situation, his position was approved

by the workingmen members, while opposition was expressed by two men who

served corporations in a professional capacity.

Again, a Scotchman, feeling the capitalist's lack of sympathy for the

working man's problems, expressed surprise that a number of wealthy

Scotchmen had joined in the celebration of Burns's birthday. "How can

they," he said, "when they think of his social theories? I should think

they would be ashamed to." To him, Burns was the man who wrote A Man's a

Man for A' That.

But men such as these are the exceptions. One of the most intelligent

men I know, an ardent socialist, told me of his exasperation because

his fellows were, he held, so unintelligent and were so unwilling to

talk about social questions. This he thought was due to the long hours

and hard work, since it took the other twelve hours to rest from the

day's labor. Most of them, truly, are both too tired to think and too

conscious of the dominance of the corporation to believe it worth

while to seek a solution of these problems. Neither is there much

within the mill to develop intellectual keenness. The men, it is true,

are encouraged to invent improvements, but though these undoubtedly

influence their promotion it is currently reported that the men receive

no direct reward. The general feeling, moreover, that promotion is due

to favoritism, lessens the stimulus to study and work up. With the

attitude of the mill officials toward trade unionism, men are more or

less afraid to discuss industrial questions with one another. An old

resident gave me this as a current maxim,

"If you want to talk in Homestead you must talk to yourself."

In one respect, however, the men do unite to meet conditions arising

under the industry. The work in the mills brings them constantly face to

face with the danger of accident. Almost daily, occur minor accidents: a

foot bruised by a heavy weight, a hand lacerated by a machine; accidents

not serious enough to prevent work for any length of time, or perhaps

to justify damages. But where the margin is small, two weeks or even

one of enforced idleness means a serious problem in family finances.

While the men injured are eligible to the Carnegie Relief Fund, this

fund gives assistance only when a man has been disabled for a year or

more, and consequently is of no help in minor accidents. In order to

meet these emergencies, then, the men have utilized the fraternal orders

which form one of the chief centers of interest in Homestead life.

There are more than forty lodges, and while it was impossible to learn

the exact membership, twenty-three lodges report a total membership of

3,663, of whom 3,400 are men. The strongest of these is the Odd Fellows,

with a membership of over 1,000, most of whom are steel workers. In

all but two out of twenty-seven, concerning which data were secured,

there are benefit features; a sick benefit usually of five dollars a

week for three months with a smaller sum thereafter; and a small death

benefit of only $150 or so. The fraternal insurance orders, which vary

the assessments with the amount of the benefit, give as high as $5,000.

Sometimes both regular and lodge insurance policies are carried. In

sixty-three families investigated, only nine of the heads of families

were uninsured, while eighteen carried both kinds. What this insurance

means, however, is but feebly shown by the amounts involved. One woman,

speaking of her early struggles, told how in the first year of her

married life, her husband was seriously burned in the mill and for three

months was unable to do a stroke of work. Fortunately, from the three

benefit orders to which he belonged came $12.50 a week, which supported

the family. "My baby came then," she added feelingly, "and if it had not

been for that money, I could have bought no clothes for her."

In addition to this benefit feature, the lodge offers an opportunity for

the development of sympathy and the consciousness of social solidarity.

A woman, who was a rather recent comer to Homestead, had been a member

of one of these lodges in another town. Her little baby became ill and

died, and where otherwise she would have been alone in her grief, her

fellow members came at once to watch with her during his sickness, and

to console her after his death. "Why, they were like my own sisters,"

she said, and it was this which counted rather than the twenty-five

dollars which helped meet the funeral expenses.

The lodge also affords an opportunity to show that interest in outside

matters, which otherwise finds scanty means of expression. I saw one day

a half bushel of fine potatoes ready for baking, which a woman told me

were her contribution to a supper being given for an emergency hospital

in Homestead. "We don't need that hospital," she said, "because my

man isn't in a dangerous place in the mill, but I'm glad to help even

if most of them are 'Hunkies.'" During the winter of 1907-8, almost

every lodge in town gave some sort of entertainment for the benefit of

this hospital. Aroused by the suffering of men seriously injured in

the mill, who have to be taken on the train to Pittsburgh, the whole

town united in a determination to meet this need of their community.

While the individual contributions of the workingmen would have been

discouragingly small, their real interest could express itself through

the existing lodge organizations. In fact, aside from the church, the

lodge seems to offer the one possibility of co-operative effort.

Many men also find here their one chance of meeting other men socially.

All the lodges, even the purely insurance ones, have social features,

and often at special meetings the whole family go together. While these

features of fraternal orders are of course common in all communities, in

Homestead, with its danger of accident and its limitation as to other

amusements, they play an especially important role.

[Illustration: ITEMS FROM THE HOMESTEAD "MESSENGER."

Illustrating how accidents become everyday happenings in a steel town.

Period: two weeks when the mills were running slack.]

Yet life needs some outlook for the future other than preparation to

meet its disasters. With the increase in the size of the corporation,

the days are passing when a rise to a position of eminence is possible

for a poor boy, so that personal ambition has become a negative factor.

But to the parents who seek for their children a better position, more

education and more of the refinements of life, the future is full of

interest. One woman complained that her neighbor was "all right, only

she talks too much about her children," but when one realized how much

the mother's interest and devotion had done to make her sons successful,

it was easy to forgive her. Another woman, of natural sweetness and

grace of manner, told of her efforts to teach her little girls those

formal niceties in which she had not been trained. "I bought a book on

manners," she said, "so as to teach the children, and I make myself do

the things so they will. It's awfully hard to say 'excuse me' when I

leave the table, but if I don't they'll never learn," and the greeting

given a stranger by the little daughter showed how well this mother was

succeeding.

The center of interest, especially to the fathers, is in the future of

their sons. Often the sons go ahead of their fathers in the race, and

one elderly man told me with pride that he owed his easy job to his son

who had become an assistant superintendent. Sometimes parents, most

frequently the mothers, are unwilling that their boys should enter the

mill, for the fear of accident makes the long nights a time of terror.

Many a woman has said, "When I was first married, I couldn't sleep when

the 'mister' was on night turn, but, of course, I'm used to it now."

Still when their sons grow up, they begin again to dread the danger.

The great mill, however, has a fascination of its own, so that most

of the boys "follow the stacks." They then live at home, contributing

their share to the family income, and we find that economic bond which

Mrs. Bosenquet has pointed out as so dominant a factor in strengthening

family life in England. This mutual affection is undoubtedly the most

potential factor in keeping pure the moral life of the town.

Morally the town is an average one. Along one of the railroads is a

section comparable in a small way to some of the dark parts of a great

city, and there gambling, immorality and drunkenness have their meeting

place, but in the districts where most of the workmen have their homes,

the former two evils are practically unknown. A doctor in a position

to know the situation well, believes that in the main this town is

clean morally, and his statement is confirmed by clergymen and other

physicians.

Intemperance, on the other hand, is a serious factor. In Munhall there

are no saloons, but in Homestead, there are fifty, eight in a single

block on Eighth avenue next to the mill entrance. As one resident

summed up the situation, "I think we have at least sixty-five saloons,

ten wholesale liquor stores, a number of beer agents, innumerable

speak-easies and a dozen or more drug stores,"--and this in a town of

25,000. In addition to their usual attractions of light and jollity, the

saloons appeal to the thirst engendered by hours of work in the heat.

Though this heat-thirst is frequently offered as an excuse for drinking,

men who do not drink are emphatic in their belief that alcohol lessens

their ability to withstand the extreme temperature. While intoxication

is not very frequent, the saloons do a thriving business and their

patrons were among the first to feel the hardships of the industrial

depression. A clergyman assured me that preaching against intemperance

did no good and that substitutes must be offered, but so far none has

been developed. The library, which is on the hill out of the men's way,

cannot be reckoned as a counter attraction, for they are too tired to be

often tempted by it.

The church, too, finds it hard to hold them. The fact that they usually

have to work either Saturday night or Sunday night, and some men during

Sunday as well, affects the attitude of the whole town towards Sunday

keeping. A clergyman who complained because a certain store was open on

Sunday, was told that as the mill ran that day, nothing could be done

about closing the store. "We can't take the little fish and let the big

one go." The men feel the inconsistency in being urged to attend church

when they have to work hard part of the day. Then too, they are often

very tired. One big, jovial colored man told me how he came home Sunday

morning from the mill expecting to go to church, but fell fast asleep

while waiting for the hour of service.

The churches, however, play an important part in the life of those,

especially the women and young people, who are actually connected

with them. The thirty churches represent all denominations, some of

them preserving their original race distinctions. Two Welsh churches

still have their service in the Keltic language. There are a number of

missions, among them one on the main street, whose transparency bearing

the legend, "The Wages of Sin Is Death," suggests a Bowery type. The

Salvation Army, while it has a short muster roll, has a strong grip on

the community which seems impressed by its earnestness, simplicity and

poverty. For whatever its intellectual limitations there is throughout

the town a profound respect for genuine spiritual devotion. During

the winter most of the churches, in addition to their regular weekly

services, held special revival meetings. These, while they have little

of the tense excitement sometimes associated with such meetings, seem to

be a strong force in developing the real spiritual power of the churches.

The church, moreover, meets certain of the social needs of the town

through its wholesome festivities. All winter the stores were full of

signs of "chicken and waffle suppers," and the papers told of socials

of all the varieties that a small church evolves. These were usually to

raise funds, sometimes for church expenses, sometimes for charity, and

in one instance, I remember, to help send out a foreign missionary. But,

whatever the object, they serve to increase the happiness of life under

wholesome conditions.

[Illustration: KENNYWOOD PARK AT NIGHT.]

[Illustration: A.--Profile of line A. B. in map opposite, showing slope

on which Homestead is built.--B.]

So the church plays its part, both spiritually and socially, in helping

its members to a fuller individual life. It does not, however, furnish

an opportunity for that discussion of matters of everyday concern to the

men, which might serve to arouse their interest in the whole life of the

church and to quicken their sense of civic responsibility. Moreover,

in a town where industrial questions are of paramount importance, the

church is only beginning to take an interest in them. In the larger

question of leadership in civic life, the churches seem also to have

missed a great opportunity. Though they took some action in the local

option campaign, this was an isolated instance, and in general they do

not appear to have accepted their full responsibility in arousing men to

a realization of the duties of citizenship.

[Illustration: HOMESTEAD VS. MUNHALL.

The town-site back of the mills is divided into two boroughs.

Munhall embraces most of the property of the U. S. Steel

Corporation: the tax rate is 8-1/2 mills and the corporation pays

$40,000 in taxes.

In Homestead, where most of the workmen have their homes, the

tax rate is 15 mills, and the corporation pays $7,000.]

That a sense of civic responsibility is needed, is emphasized by those

who know the life of the town, and who find there a serious political

situation. In Homestead, which is by far the largest and most important

of the three boroughs, the political conditions are worst. The borough

government consists of a burgess elected every three years, and a

council, which is also elective. Of the two important committees, the

Board of Health is appointed by the burgess with the consent of the

council, and the School Board is chosen directly by the people.

In spite of the possibility of influencing some of the local conditions

through these elected representatives, there is general indifference

in regard to local politics. In one matter where their direct family

interests are concerned, the people have demanded and received an

efficient administration. They are proud of their schools and the

personnel of the School Board, and certainly this is the best service

given to the people of the town. But while the men all agree that the

situation is dominated by the wholesale liquor interests, schemes for

political reform arouse little enthusiasm. In spite of years of casual

agitation against inadequately guarded railroad crossings, it was not

till the summer of 1908 that any effective protest was made. People

still pay a neighbor fifty cents a month for the privilege of getting

good water from his well, instead of insisting that it be provided by

the borough. A river, polluted by the sewage of many towns above it,

and by chemicals from the mills strong enough to kill all the fish,

furnishes the drinking water for the town.

To a certain extent at least, mental sluggishness due, as we have

seen, to the conditions under which men work, is at the root of their

indifference. It is, of course, true that the mill is not the source of

all the undesirable conditions in Homestead. Many of the disadvantages

of the town are similar to those of other suburban and industrial

centers that are less definitely influenced by a great industry. But

for a large part of the evil the mill must be considered responsible.

There was its influence, for example, in making Munhall into a separate

borough, thus securing a lower tax for its plant and real estate and by

that much adding to the burdens of the majority of its working people.

For in Homestead, the mill owns little property. In Munhall, the tax

rate is eight and one-half mills and the mill pays $40,000 a year in

taxes, while in Homestead, where the larger part of the workers live,

the tax rate is fifteen mills and the mill pays a tax of but $7,000.

The mill has, moreover, done nothing to give the town an effective

leadership, the most striking need of the situation. On the one hand

by the destruction of the union it has removed the one force by which

workingmen could have been trained for leadership; on the other hand,

since its owners are scattered throughout the country, it has not

supplied such a group of educated men with free time and public interest

as have been the strong influences in developing normal communities.

When I asked, in discussing the sanitary condition of the Slavic courts,

if anything could be done to improve the situation I was assured that

only a man of strong local influence could accomplish such a reform; but

no one could suggest the man.

In contrast then to the wonderful development of the industry itself,

with its splendid organization, its capable management, its efficient

methods, we find a town which lacks sound political organization, which

lacks true leadership, which lacks the physical and moral efficiency

which can come only through leisure to think and to enjoy. The only

genuine interest we find centers about the individual home life,

and, in spite of outward physical disadvantages, the hindrance of

inadequate income, the lack of proper training in household economics,

and the limited outlook which the town affords, the men and the women

are creating real homes. That many fail against these odds is not

surprising. "Life, work, and happiness, these three are bound together."

The mill offers the second, indifferent whether it is under conditions

that make the other two possible.

THE CIVIC RESPONSIBILITIES OF DEMOCRACY IN AN INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT[13]

PAUL U. KELLOGG

American spread-eagleism has matured notably in the past ten years,

but there is still youth and ginger enough in it to make my first

postulate simply this,--that the civic responsibilities of democracy

in an industrial district are to come abreast of and improve upon any

community standards reached under any other system of government; and,

second, to do this in a democratic way as distinct from a despotic or

paternalistic way.

[13] An address given before the Joint Convention of the American Civic

Association and the National Municipal League, Pittsburgh, Nov. 16,

outlining some of the findings of the Pittsburgh Survey and drawing upon

data secured in various fields of investigation.

It was my good fortune to spend a week the past summer in Essen and

other industrial towns of the Rhenish-Westphalia district of Germany,

following something over a year spent in the Pittsburgh district. I

fancy that in our attitude toward the old countries, we are inclined

to regard their cities as long established and to find justification

for any lapses of our own in the newness of America. But Essen, for

instance, as an industrial center is new. The chronology of the

development of the steel industry there is not altogether different from

that of the same industry in Pittsburgh; and one of the great problems

of Fried. Krupp was to mobilize and hold within reach of his furnaces

and rolls a large and efficient working population. Entering the

industrial field generations later than England, German manufacturers

have not had a trained working force ready to hand. Krupp had to draw

his men from the country districts,--healthy, unskilled peasants, unused

to the quick handling of their muscles, unused to working indoors,

unused to machinery, unused to living in large communities. The wages

offered, as against the wages of agricultural districts, drew them

there; he must keep them there out of reach of his competitors, and he

must see that they worked at the top notch of their efficiency. It was

a loss to Herr Krupp when a man with five years' training in his works

left Essen, or was sick, or was maimed.

Charities and the Commons: The Pittsburgh Survey, Part I. The People · 第 16 / 19 段