DUTCH HARBOR, Alaska—After 9/11, the Department of Homeland Security ordered round-the-clock guards to be posted on ships that are docked, including Horizon Lines and American President Lines in Alaska.
The two employers needed a dedicated, reliable and trained security workforce, though the work would be sparse and the workforce had to be ready whenever the call for security came.
Who could they count on? Longshore wives! But on the job, the women learned they had to be more than that.
“We needed to define ourselves,” said guard Juliette DeVries. “We
weren’t just ‘wives of longshoremen,’ as the employers called us. Management acted like we didn’t have anything better to do, not like we were doing a real job. I wanted us to have a voice and
recognition.” As of May 23, 2007, they now have an ILWU contract.
“It was really rough out there in the beginning,” said Lynette Guitard,
who started in 2004. “Both docks were wide open. There was no protection from the elements. The docks were slick with ice. We still had to patrol on foot.”
“It was a lot of work, and a lot of chaos,” she said. And they had no
union contract to spell out their rights. Though the employers agreed to have the guards dispatched out of the hiring hall, they refused to recognize Unit 223 as the bargaining representative.
“The women would come to me with complaints—they weren’t getting breaks, their shifts would go on and on without them calling in a new person, and they had no protective gear,” Unit 223 Business Agent Randall Baker said. “The employers would refuse to deal with me, saying that Unit 223 didn’t represent them.”
The employers’ refusal to voluntarily recognize Unit 223 put the
women in a tough spot because the NLRB will not allow an election for a unit of “security guards” who want to join a union that includes other kinds of workers at the same workplace.
“Three years passed and nothing got better,” guard Bobbie Lekanoff said. “We found out we had to get ourselves
organized, and that the ILWU couldn’t just do it for us.”
The six women who make up the core security force formed their
own union, the Aleutians Security and Allied Personnel (ASAP). The employers ignored ASAP’s request for voluntary recognition, so the women petitioned the NLRB for an election.
While Horizon took a wait-andsee attitude, APL retained the notorious union-busting law firm of Littler, Mendelson. APL claimed that the little ASAP was illegally dominated by the ILWU, and hit ASAP and Unit 223 with subpoenas for pay records, phone records, meeting minutes, all kinds of other materials.
The legal showdown came May 23, 2007 when everyone attended the hearing with the NLRB officer at Dutch Harbor City Hall. After much talking in the hallways, both employers agreed to finally recognize ILWU Unit 223 as the guards’ representative.
Negotiations for a new contract for the guards began that day, and they were able to reach tentative agreement on many of the key issues.
The victory gave the women at Dutch Harbor a new appreciation for the union that has been part of their lives for years.
“I’ve been married to the union for 25 years,” said Valarie Lemas, wife of Unit 223’s Stan Lemas. “But to have it work for me and actually become a member myself has made me very proud.”
—Jan Gilbrecht
