The workers here build those green machines that glisten in the sun, specifically hay balers. They do their work amidst the noise and the heat of the nearby Deere Ottumwa Works factory. Many have shoulder and arm trouble from years of labor. During Covid, they were declared essential workers and did not miss a day of work.
The strike at John Deere has become a cause celebre, a sort of Lexington and Concord for all American working people tired of getting the short and sharp end of the stick.
For the first time in their lifetime, 10,000 John Deere workers hold the good cards. Corn and soybean prices are soaring, farmers are in the mood for new equipment. It’s not 1986 when Deere workers went on strike during a farming crisis. And it’s not 1997 when Deere forced through a contract that slashed retirement benefits with threats of closing factories here and in Akeny, 90 miles away.
“We’re really at a turning point,” says UAW Local 74 striker Chris Laursen. “This is really a crucial moment for America. Do we want to become like South America where there’s just rich and poor and no middle class? Because that’s where we’re heading if people like us don’t stand up and say, ‘no more.’”
‘A Way of Life Is At Stake.’ Striking John Deere Workers Defy the Company, and Their Union, to Tell Their Stories
