Immigrant Girls

copyright 2011 Dan Sullivan

They said the building was fireproof
So on the eighth and ninth floors
Where Immigrant Girls sewed garments
They locked the exit doors
When the fire broke out that day
There was nowhere else to go
They could stay behind and die in flames
Or jump to their deaths below

So say a prayer for the Immigrant Girls
Who died on that long ago day
Never forget the reason they died
And always remember their names

The fire engines came quickly
As a crowd watched in horror
But the ladders couldn't reach
Beyond the sixth floor
The girls screaming from the windows
Had only seconds left to decide
What their final thoughts would be
And which way they wanted to die

So say a prayer for the Immigrant Girls
Who died on that long ago day
Never forget the reason they died
And always remember their names

The funeral march to the gravesite
Was made in a pouring rain
Mourners lined New York streets
Four hundred thousand came
Now once a year the church bells ring
And for a moment heads are bowed
In memory of the Immigrant Girls
Each name is read aloud

So say a prayer for the Immigrant Girls
Who died on that long ago day
Never forget the reason they died
And always remember their names

Still snowing near Reno

     "Can I get a cab out to the Soda Springs Store?"

Immigrant Girls

I wrote this quickly this afternoon because I wanted to post it on the 100th Anniversary of the Triangle fire tragedy.    No music for it.   Yet.   Maybe later.  


IMMIGRANT GIRLS (The 1911 Triangle Fire Tragedy)
copyright March 25,  2011 Dan Sullivan

They said the building was fireproof
So on the eighth and ninth floors
Where Immigrant Girls sewed garments
They locked the exit doors
When the fire broke out that day
There was nowhere else to go
They could stay  and die in flames
Or jump to their death below

So say a prayer for the Immigrant Girls
Who died on that long ago day
Never forget the reason they died
And always remember their names

The fire trucks arrived quickly
As a crowd watched in horror
But the ladders they brought couldn’t reach
Up to the higher floors
Where  girls screamed from windows
With only seconds left to decide
What their final thoughts would be
And which way they wanted to die

So say a prayer for the Immigrant Girls
Who died on that long ago day
Never forget the reason they died
And always remember their names
　
The funeral march to the gravesite
Was made in a pouring rain
Mourners lined  New York streets
Four hundred thousand came
Now once a year the church bells ring
And for a moment heads are bowed
In memory of Immigrant Girls
Each name is read aloud

So say a prayer for the Immigrant Girls
Who died on that long ago day
Never forget the reason they died
And always remember their names
　
　

　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

Take time to remember. And never forget.

It was 100-years ago today that the 146 women working in a sweat shop in New York city died when a fire broke out in the workplace and they couldn't escape because all the doors had been locked from the outside by the company bosses.

The Triangle Factory Fire, as it was called, so shocked the nation that Congress was compelled to pass  some workplace safety reforms and  the labor union movement began to grow across the country, in part as a response to this horrific tragedy.  

Most people weren't taught this history in school.   It didn't fit in with an education system that is more concerned with preparing  children to fit into the corporate world than it is in teaching the sometimes shameful  truths of history.   So most people have never heard of the Triangle Fire.   

How tragic that 100 years later unions and working people are again under attack by corporatists and Republican policies that elevate reverence for wealth and power over respect for working men and women.

Click the links below to learn more about American history.

The story of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire

Death behind locked sweatshop doors.

Editorial: One Reason To Vote NO On APWU Tentative Agreement

March 23, 2011 by Lu
Filed under: APWU, Articles, postal, postal news, usps 

By Dan Sullivan, APWU retired, Southwest Michigan Area Local
　
There are plenty of reasons for union members to vote in favor of the tentative agreement between the American Postal Workers Union and the Postal Service. You can find most of those reasons on the general comment and editorial pages of 21cpw.com and in the sales pitches put out by APWU national and local officers around the country, people who are more knowledgeable about the tentative contract than me.

I know only one thing about the proposed contract. And the one thing I know is the reason why I could never vote for it or ask any union member to vote for it.

The one thing I know is that it asks us to accept for future postal workers wages that none of us would accept for ourselves.

The principle guiding me is called the Golden Rule. Jesus put it another way, telling his followers to “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

Twenty centuries later American union organizers phrased it slightly differently, but they meant the same thing when they took as their rallying cry the slogan “An injury to one is an injury to all.”

Other cultures and religions have similar ethical teachings. It seems to be a universal idea.

If you wouldn’t vote yourself a pay cut, you shouldn’t be willing to vote a lower pay scale for new workers. That is if you believe in the Golden Rule and the union concept of solidarity.

The workers in Wisconsin aren’t locked in a life-or-death battle with corporatists and right wingers – and they didn’t take over the Capital building – just to save their own hides. They’re also fighting for future generations. And so are the unionists from around the Midwest and the nation who streamed into Madison to support them.

And the same can be said for the union workers battling right-wing, corporatist regimes in Michigan, Ohio, Florida, Indiana and elsewhere.

Maybe some think it’s old-fashioned to stand on principle. Or just stubborn. But I can’t forget about the future generations of postal workers when I vote on the proposed contract.

I’m voting no.

Marching on Tripoli

Marching on Tripoli
Copyright 2011 Dan Sullivan

There’s fear and there’s dread
On the road up ahead
There’s Mirages over the sea
While children at home
Sleep safely in bed
We’re marching on Tripoli

And it’s hi hi ho
And it’s hi hi he
We’re marching on Tripoli
And they’ll fill up the graves
With rebels and slaves
We’re marching on Tripoli

It’s a good day for war
So we’re marching once more
We’re marching on Tripoli
We’re on the attack
Just like in Iraq
And we’re bringing democracy

And it’s hi hi ho
And it’s hi hi he
We’re marching on Tripoli
And they’ll fill up the graves
With rebels and slaves
We’re marching on Tripoli

From the south of Khartoum
To the ancient sand dunes
Along the North African shore
There’s rockets and blood
And death in the mud
From genocide, murder and war

And it’s hi hi ho
And it’s hi hi he
We’re marching on Tripoli
And they’ll fill up the graves
With rebels and slaves
We’re marching on Tripoli

There’s a dozen or more
Armed conflicts and wars
They’re going on endlessly
What’s one more or less
On the Dark Continent
So we’re marching on Tripoli


And it’s hi hi ho
And it’s hi hi he
We’re marching on Tripoli
And they’ll fill up the graves
With rebels and slaves
We’re marching on Tripoli

In a few days or more
We’ll wrap up this war
That’s what they’ll tell us again
We’ll throw a parade
And bands will play
And someone will ask, “Did we win?”

Here's Hannah's interview on her 9th birthday.   Guess who did most of the talking?

This is one that came to me a few days ago.   I slapped some images together to make a YouTube video of it.    

Crown of gold
Copyright Dan Sullivan 2011

I’m gatherin’ all my thoughts
I’m wonderin’ what’s worse
To live without your love
Or to die of thirst

I’ve concealed my feelings
Kept them under lock and key
Had to hide from prying eyes
What you mean to me

Darkness softly slipping
Like a hood over my head
Every night I dream of you
Laying on my bed

Now storm clouds are gatherin’. They fill the western sky
As the sun slips away like love slowly dyin’

I’m gatherin’ my defenses
I’m lifting shield and spear
I can hear the trumpets calling
As my enemy draws near


I’m gatherin’ all my thoughts
I’m wonderin’ what’s worse
In this world both truth and lies
Haunt me like a curse

I’m harvestin’ from dreams
Planted long ago
That a crown now made of thorns
Might one day turn to gold

MI Gov. granted dictatorial powers

BREAKING NEWS

The Michigan legislature has approved a bill giving the governor authority to execute a coup 'd etat over any and all governmental jurisdictions in the the state. The bill gives the governor power to declare an emergency and to appoint a overseer with dictatorial powers anywhere in the state.

Democracy, anyone???

More on this tomorrow and in the upcoming days.

 

"CHEESE"

What a weekend.   Four of the hooligans stayed at the mansion Saturday

night.   And guess what?    No fights!

They all got along great.

Erik had said something about wishing

he'd learned to play the guitar or piano

when he was younger.

I told him there's no time like the present

to get started.

So I showed him a few chords and  he

spent 2 or 3 hours

practicing on the guitar

and piano.

I also gave him a keyboard to take home so he'd

have something to practice on.

I told him if he learns

to play the piano a little bit, I'd buy

him a guitar and he could

start on that.

Who knows?   Maybe he'll be

a musician.

The girls so far aren't

interested in making music, preferring

to mug for the camera

or play games online.

Next time they're here I'll try

to get them to record

a song.

I'm not sure how I'll get them

all to sing in the same key.

THAT will be a real trick!

I guess things have changed

I went to St. Mary’s Catholic grade school as a child. That was 50 years ago. But I still have fond memories of  getting rapped on the knuckles, berated, hollered at, called a communist and knocked out of a chair by a nun during my book-learning days.

I guess nowadays some people would think of that as child abuse or something. But I never thought about it that way. Neither did the rest of the kids I went to school with. Heck, we thought that was normal. And we understood we probably deserved a rap on the knuckle or a sharp word when we were caught in some mischief or horseplay or were tardy with our homework.

And I sure never told my parents the nuns were being mean to me at school or I would have gotten whipped on twice, once by the nuns and once by my Dad.
　
So I was shocked when I read this posting from a friend of mine on her Facebook wall.

“wtf?? My daughter just told me her gym teacher told her " I don't hate you I just dislike you" Are you fricken kidding me??!!!!”
　
By the time I read the posting there were already more than 20 responses to this alarming news.

“O M G” is the way one friend eloquently expressed her disbelief.

Which prompted this reply from my friend.

“ummmm yeah!!! WOW how professional is that?!”

With the cat out of the bag now, another friend put her two cents in.

“My girls have issues with their teacher, but she's never said anything like that!!! Time to call a meeting!!”

“ummmmmm yep! C----- said the lady didn't like her since day 1, I thought she was just reading something into it that wasn't there. WOW I am just blown away!!”

A third friend chimed in with this thoughtful advice.

“Wow--I'd be calling a principal, I think.

As word spread, a fourth friend could barely express her shock.

“Wow!!”

“Time for someone to lose their job,” a fifth fumed.

Things were obviously escalating. And my friend was smoking now.

“ummm yep, going to head up to the school, kick ass and take names later....do NOT f with my kids!!”

Another friend offered encouragement.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong...Momma bear take action!”

Momma bear was growling now.

“umm yeah, C----- her and her friend were in gym dong what they were supposed to do and the teacher came up to the other girl and asked what happened, that she always did what she was told until C------ came there... C----- said see I told you she hates me and the teacher said that in response... Ummmm NOT!”

My friend quickly added this.

“ummmmm yep J---..... not cool at all!”

Just as things were heating up, a  typo offered a little levity and let us all LOL.

“In the gym dong ::inappropriate giggle::”

"lol hehehehe..... ooops fricken typo queen!!”

A few hehehes and hahahas later a couple more friends climbed on the bandwagon.

“wow, thats pretty inapprop”

“wow, that's BS. Also go to damnyouautocorrect.com. J ”

Finally, another friend who apparently also knows the mean teacher added these comments.

“B----- got hit with a dodge ball in the face oin elementary school, and he cried a little bit and she said 'Quit crying you big baby'....I was livid!!!…it's not like 5th grade boys have enough to tease each other about....then they all hear the teacher call him a baby.....I was mad! I called the principal and she was going to 'look into it'“

Whew!

I almost posted a brief comment on my friend’s wall telling her she should be thankful the teacher didn’t pull a ruler out and have her little darling lay her pretty little pinkies on the desk. But I thought better of it.

I didn’t mind getting a whipping from a nun when I was a kid. But at my age I sure as heck don’t intend to take a whipping FOR a teacher from a bunch of angry  Momma Bears.

Sorry, it’s every man, teacher and Momma Bear for him or herself.