50 years later, Memphis strike still resonates

The rain was torrential, flooding streets and overflowing sewers. Still, the Memphis City Public Works Department required its sanitation workers — all black men — to continue to work in the Feb. 1, 1968, downpour.

That day, two sanitation workers, Echol Cole and Robert Walker, took shelter from the rain in the back of their garbage truck. As Cole and Walker rode in the back of the truck, an electrical switch malfunctioned. The compactor turned on.

Cole and Walker were crushed by the garbage truck compactor. The Memphis Department of Public Works refused to compensate their families.

Twelve days after their deaths, as many as 1,300 black sanitation workers in Memphis, Tenn., walked off the job, protesting against horrible working conditions, abuse, racism and discrimination by the city.

The Memphis Sanitation Workers Strike would win the support of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. — and lead to his assassination two months later.

The men King was defending worked in filth, dragging heavy tubs of garbage onto trucks.

“Most of the tubs had holes in them,” sanitation worker Taylor Rogers, recalled in the documentary “At the River I Stand.” “Garbage would be leaking. When you went home, you had to stop at the door to pull off your clothes. Maggots would fall out on you.”

The men worked long hours for about 65 cents an hour, with no overtime pay and no paid sick leave.

Injuries on the job could lead to them getting fired.

If they didn’t work, they didn’t get paid.

“We felt we would have to let the city know that because we were sanitation workers, we were human beings. The signs we were carrying said ‘I Am a Man,’ ” James Douglas, a sanitation worker, said in a documentary.

Led by T.O. Jones, the men demanded that the city recognize their union, increase wages and improve inhumane conditions for sanitation workers.

Memphis’s then-mayor, Henry Loeb, refused the demands of the sanitation workers’ union.

On Feb. 14, Loeb issued an ultimatum, telling the men to return to work by 7 a.m.

Some men returned to work under police escort. Negotiations between the majority of strikers and the city failed. More than 10,000 tons of garbage had piled up in Memphis.

On Feb. 19, the NAACP and protesters organized an all-night sit-in at City Hall. The next day, the NAACP and the union called for a citywide boycott of downtown businesses.

The Memphis City Council passed a vote to recognize the union and increase wages Feb. 22.

But again, the mayor blocked efforts to recognize the union, prompting a protest march. Police sprayed mace and threw tear gas.

On March 18, King, in the midst of working on the Poor People’s Campaign, flew into Memphis and spoke to more than 25,000 at the Bishop Charles Mason Temple.

“You are reminding, not only Memphis, but you are reminding the nation that it is a crime for people to live in this rich nation and receive starvation wages,” King told the crowd.

On March 28, protesters marched again. King and Lawson led the march. But the protest turned violent when a group of young demonstrators threw objects.

Loeb declared martial law and called in the National Guard. The next day, more than 200 sanitation workers marched, carrying signs “I Am a Man.”

On April 3, King preached his now-famous “Mountaintop” speech at the Mason Temple, presaging his death. “Like anybody, I would like to live — a long life; longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now,” his voice rising in a mesmerizing cadence. “I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.”

The next evening, as King prepared to go to dinner at the home of a local minister, a shot rang out, killing him on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel.