The working conditions of the nineteenth century were famously bleak. This was especially true of the printing industry. Workers inhaled the carbon-based ink and often developed chronic lung disease. The most prevalent disease was Black Lung, now known as coal worker’s pneumoconiosis. The printers became frustrated with their work environments, poor health, and low wages, so they established the International Typographical Union (ITU) in 1852. One of their main goals was to help union members already suffering from medical conditions brought on by their profession.

Union members suggested creating the Union Printers Home at the first ITU convention meeting in New Orleans in 1852, but the leadership committee rejected the proposal. This institution would have been a medical facility specifically for printers, in which they would live together and receive care. In 1890, union members finally approved the plan after Philadelphia newspaper publisher George W. Childs and philanthropist Anthony J. Drexel made a donation to fund the idea. Because the only treatment for respiratory illness at the time was fresh air, the ITU chose Colorado Springs as the site of this ambitious project. The Childs-Drexel Home for Union Printers opened May 12, 1892. Because the union was composed of newspaper publishers, the event was well publicized. The New York Times described the home as the only one of its kind, and the Los Angeles Herald claimed the opening day was the greatest event the West had ever seen.

The building overlooks the Garden of the Gods, as well as a view of Pikes Peak. Four stories high, workers constructed it using white lava stone and red sandstone; it ultimately cost $80,000 to complete. The building is impressive, and the design was meant to instill a sense of pride in the printing profession. The printers could enjoy the expansive grounds and appreciate the beauty of their surroundings. The ITU initially admitted fifty union men and the staff set up twenty tuberculosis tents on the grounds. The Union Printers Home housed 25,000 printers while under the direction of the ITU.

After the Communication Workers of America absorbed the International Typographical Union in 1986, the union sold the building. The Union Printers Home is now a retirement facility, well-liked thanks to its beautiful views and architecture. The location and weather are still ideal for residents. Its unique history as a health institution is echoed in its current use.

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When the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) strike was called in September, women enthusiastically joined the cause of their male family members. They harassed strikebreaking miners—“scabs”—and beat one scab, tracklayer John Hale, so badly that some newspapers erroneously reported that he had died. Meanwhile, other women organized their new homes in the various tent colonies throughout the area. The deprivations suffered by the women and children in those colonies were probably no worse than what they faced in company housing, apart from the thin canvas tents. The thin tents could do little to protect them from the cold and a record-breaking four-foot snowfall in December 1913.

To make matters worse, women were unable to leave the colonies without a male escort because they feared assault by militiamen. Hungry, tired, cold, and scared, women were desperate to see the results of a successful strike. Mother Jones, a seventy-six-year-old famous union agitator, “pepped up” women of the tent colonies several times as she encouraged them to keep up the fight. After the arrest of Mother Jones in January 1914, the UMWA encouraged the women to participate in a peaceful demonstration for the release of the elderly Mother Jones. General John Chase consented to a procession through downtown Trinidad with the expectation that the women would not approach the San Rafael hospital where Mother Jones was being kept prisoner. As the women marched, the militiamen on horseback blocked the way to the hospital. As General Chase shouted at the women to stop, he fell from his horse—much to the delight of the women. Infuriated, he ordered his troops to charge. Women began hurling stones, bottles, and bricks at the soldiers, provoking the frightened cavalrymen to slash at the projectiles and the women with their sabers. Instantly, the parade turned into a full-blown riot as sympathetic townspeople jumped into the fray. Eleven men and eight women were arrested for inciting a riot. Dozens of women and children were injured, but no deaths were reported.

Troubles persisted after the women’s march, but the militia now included women and children on their enemies list.

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Animosity between union organizers and mining operators hit a boiling point in August 1913 after the callous murder of union organizer Gerald Lippiatt by mine guards. The Colorado Fuel & Mining Company (CFI) did not acknowledge the murder and local authorities refused to investigate. Angered by their inaction, the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) District 15 gathered at Trinidad to declare a strike on September 16. The union demanded recognition, a ten percent wage increase, enforcement of eight-hour workday laws, checkweighmen to verify the payment per ton of coal, payment in cash, freedom to buy and sell, and enforcement of all other mining laws. When their demands were announced on September 23, retribution was swift.

Before the day was out, all miners and their families had been evicted from company housing and left without means to buy food and other goods. To aid them, the UMWA provided half a dozen tent colonies, the largest of which were at Aguilar and Ludlow.

For a month, spurts of violence interrupted the lull in negotiations. The Baldwin-Felts Agency, anti-union mercenaries employed by the mining operators, sent in strikebreakers from West Virginia to harass the strikers and break the union. The detectives drove around in machine-gun equipped cars and assaulted the Forbes tent colony, killing a striker and a small boy. However, the strikers were not guiltless either. They continually harassed non-union miners (“scabs”) who continued to work, threatening them and their families if they refused to join the strike. Civil conditions rapidly deteriorated in the region, culminating in the murder of company guard John Nimmo. It was at that moment that CFI president L.M. Bowers begged Colorado Governor Elias Ammons to send in the National Guard to restore order.

Governor Ammons declared martial law in the coalfields, and militiamen under the command of General John Chase arrived in late October. Their arrival, however, only intensified the violence. An official government report described the militiamen as the “very scum of humanity” for their unwarranted assaults on women, children, and enslavement of captured strikers. General Chase vehemently denied those accusations, insisting that the actions of the National Guard were legal necessities to prevent unnecessary loss of life. By the time the strike ended in May 1914, an estimated 150–200 people had been killed or severely maimed.

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In 1913, the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company (CFI) tightly controlled the coalfields of southern Colorado and the miners who worked there. The early 1900s were a dangerous time to be employed by the CFI—their miners had the highest mortality rate in the country. Yet most miners remained at the coalfields because their professional options were so limited: approximately 70 percent of the miners were foreign-born and non-English speaking. Though most were Greek, there were also many Mexicans, Czechs, Russian, Poles, Scotch, English, and Italians. Their diverse linguistic and cultural backgrounds made it difficult for miners to communicate with each other, distinctions often exploited by the company. The atmosphere created by that jumble of language and cultural expectation was ripe for abuses.

The official report of the U.S. Commission on Industrial Relations described the situation in the mines, prior to the strike, as an “insult to American values and constitutional law.” The report denounced the way in which miners had “been stripped of their liberties, robbed of portions of their earnings, subjected to ruthless persecution and abuse, and reduced to a state of economic and political serfdom.” Most miners were required to live in company towns and were paid in company scrip that could only be used at the company stores, where prices were significantly inflated. Sometimes, the company allowed miners to convert their scrip into U.S. currency, but the miners only received a maximum of 90 cents to the dollar. Also, because miners were paid based on the tonnage of coal they produced, the company would tamper with the scales in order to pay them even less. Miners often were forced into debt to CFI because they were unable to afford basic goods.

A 1908 Colorado law sought to reduce work hours by imposing an eight-hour workday for men who worked underground and also prohibited payment by scrip. Still, CFI regularly flouted state law while maintaining the appearance of innocence. Daily, conditions became more desperate for the hungry, impoverished miners. Yet, the miners of the southern Colorado coalfields had never been unionized. Attempts by the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) were squelched by an efficient co-effort between the CFI management, local law enforcement, and the presence of anti-union Baldwin Felts detectives, who were essentially hired as mercenaries to keep order in the camps. UMWA organizer Mike Livoda recalled being followed, beaten, shot at, and threatened by deputies of Huerfano County Sheriff Jeff Farr. Livoda and his recruits constantly risked their lives as they struggled to demand fair and legal treatment for themselves and their families. The last recourse of the hopeless miners was to strike.

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At nearly 9:00 that morning, Mary Thomas O’Neal and her children finished their breakfast of oatmeal within the flaps of one of the many union-issued tents at the Ludlow tent colony. The seven-month coal miners’ strike against the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company (CFI) had not been as successful as the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) had initially expected, but hopes of a satisfactory settlement remained high. Most troops from the Colorado National Guard had been recalled a week earlier by Governor Elias Ammons, leaving only a small company of militiamen under the command of Lieutenant Karl E. Linderfelt.

While O’Neal cleaned up breakfast, Linderfelt and union leader Louis Tikas argued on the ridge overlooking Ludlow. Below, strikers felt increasingly uneasy as Linderfelt’s soldiers began pointing machine guns and cannons directly at the camp. A few strikers, fearing an attack, ran towards a more defensible position. Militiamen set off one of three warning bombs, but no one in the camp knew that the loud explosion was just a warning. Assuming that they were under attack, strikers began shooting back. Louis Tikas’s voice boomed over the megaphone, “All women and children, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” As women and children fled from the camp, militiamen tried to hasten them along by shooting at their heels. One of these bullets struck O’Neal in the wrist. Though compelled to flee, the firefight at the camp had become so intense that many chose to remain bunkered down rather than face certain death. Twelve-year-old Frank Snyder was in his parents’ tent, clutching his three-year-old sister, when a bullet struck his head and killed him instantly.

Nearby, three women and eleven children sought refuge in a tent’s subterranean cellar. While they huddled together, praying that the battle would stop, the militia looted and then set fire to the tents. The fire above the women and children sucked the air out of the cellar, suffocating everyone but Mrs. Alcarita Pedregon. By April 21, more than twenty people lay dead on the high Colorado Plateau. More than 400 strikers were later indicted on charges of murder and other crimes, while all court-martialed militiamen were exonerated.

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In 1898 miners in the Silver Valley of northern Idaho struggled to secure better wages. Drill and powder men received $3.00 per day and “muckers” (shovellers) received $2.50 per day. Both wanted a fifty cent pay raise to bring them in line with the other mines in the area. However, with a supply glut in the silver market, margins were narrowing for mine operators and outside investors. To further their cause, many miners joined the Western Federation of Miners to collectively bargain for better wages.

Bunker Hill and Sullivan Mining and Concentrating Company, the largest mining company in the region, refused to even recognize the union or its members. They hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency and the Theil Detective Agency to send in spies pretending to be miners looking for work. These spies would then join the union and report back to Bunker Hill on the activities and membership of the unions. Bunker Hill was determined not to pay union wages and further reduce their profit margins. Local government leaders and businessmen urged Bunker Hill to pay the union scale and accused them of wanting to foment labor riots to discourage other outside investment when management refused to cooperate.

After fruitless attempts to obtain better pay for the union members, the Western Federation of Miners determined that a demonstration would be made against Bunker Hill on April 29, 1899. Although intended to be peaceful, the demonstration soon became violent. Union members in Burke, Idaho hijacked a train and rerouted it into Wardner, Idaho. Bunker Hill guards at Wardner exchanged gunfire with the union men. A large dynamite explosion destroyed the concentrator and seventy company offices as well as a cache of Springfield rifles belonging to the Army stored at the location. At least one union and one non-union worker died in the explosion.

Bunker Hill Mining had donated to several candidates for public office. Management used those political connections to call for help. On May 4, 1899, the governor of Idaho, Frank Steunenberg, declared martial law and asked for federal help. Black troops from Fort Sherman in Coeur d’Alene were sent into the area. Hastily constructed “bull pens” (makeshift jails) house those accused of participating in, or who were sympathetic to, the events of April 29. Troops also arrested the engineer of the hijacked train, the Populist sheriff, and two commissioners of Shoshone County. The arrest of the sheriff and commissioners led to their impeachment, which sent a message to other Populists not to support the miners.

The destruction of the concentrator mill delayed operations for three months. Bunker Hill built a new, more efficient concentrator to replace the destroyed one. Martial law lasted for two years. During that time, only those willing to forswear union membership were allowed to work in the Bunker Hill and Sullivan mine. What had started as an attempt to strengthen workers’ positions in relation to the company ended with the company stronger than ever.

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