On April 18, 1946, the railroads’ two key brotherhoods announced that they would withdraw all their men in 30 days.  The nation’s transportation grid would collapse.

The two unions had been longtime allies of the Democratic Party.  And a Democrat–Harry S. Truman–was then sitting in the White House.

Harry S. Truman

Calling them to the White House three days before the strike deadline, Truman offered them generous arbitration awards.  And expected them to accept.

To his surprise–and outrage–they didn’t.

“If you think I’m going to sit here and let you tie up this whole country,” said Truman, “you’re crazy as hell.”

“We’ve got to go through with it, Mr. President,” one of the labor leaders replied.  “Our men are demanding it.”

“All right,” said Truman, rising.  “I’m going to give you the gun.  You’ve got just 48 hours to reach a settlement.  If you don’t, I’m going to take over the railroads in the name of the government.”

Two days passed and, true to his word, Truman acted.

On May 17, 1946, he signed an executive order seizing the railroads.  He gave the unions another five days of reprieve.

And what did he get in return?  A brief note saying, “Your offer is unacceptable.”

Summoning his cabinet, he announced that he would appear before a joint session of Congress on May 18.  He would then ask for authority to draft all railroad men, regardless of age, into the Army.

Tom Clark, Truman’s Attorney General, declared such a move unconstitutional.

“We’ll draft ’em first and think about the law later,” said Truman.

Then he ordered his press secretary to clear all the radio networks for a major fireside address that same night.

He planned to tell Americans that while their military had faced bullets, bombs and disease to win the victory” in World War II, the leaders of the railroad unions had virtually “fired bullets into the backs of our soldiers.”

They were all liars, and he personally attacked John L. Lewis, head of the United Mine Workers of America (the coal miners were on strike, too).

Truman also savaged Philip Murray, president of the United Steel Workers of America: “Mr. Murray and his Communist friends” had intimidated “a week-kneed Congress.”

Finally, Truman meant to rouse the nation to fury against the strikers with these words:

“Let’s give the country back to the people.  Let’s put transportation and production back to work, hang a few traitors, and make our own country safe for democracy.  Come on, boys, let’s do the job!”

What Truman actually said proved less blazing.  But only slightly less.

Truman’s press secretary, Charles G. Ross, warned the President that the “hang a few traitors” line might lead to wholesale lynchings of union leaders.  And Clark Clifford, already an influential Washington attorney and power-broker, agreed.

Together, they persuaded Truman to tone down his address.  Even so, it proved devastating.

“The crisis at Pearl Harbor was the result of action by a foreign enemy,” said Truman.  “The crisis tonight is caused by a group of men within our own country who place their private interests above the welfare of the nation.”

He said that he would call Congress into session the next day, May 19,  if the railroad workers weren’t back on the job by then, he would call in the military.

With union leaders still refusing to budge, Truman carried out his threat.  He entered Congress, mounted the podium, and asked for authority “to draft into the Armed Forces of the United States all workers who are on strike against their own government.”

Five minutes into the President’s speech, the labor leaders capitulated, signing an agreement drawn up by Truman’s negotiator.

Clifford handed Truman–still at the podium–a note: “Mr. President, agreement signed, strike over.”

Departing from his speech, Truman announced: “Gentlemen, the strike has been settled.”

An ovation resounded.  And when Truman asked for authority to draft future strikers who endangered public safety, the House of Representatives passed it at once.

That was the Truman way–and it worked.

Contrast his decisive and public-spirited approach with that of “leaders” of cities and states who lack the spine to stand up to greedy and arrogant labor leaders.

While 2,400 highly-paid train operators, station agents, mechanics, maintenance workers and professional staff refused to work, public transit within the Bay Area came dangerously close to a standstill.

Only the Herculean efforts of other transit agencies such as the San Francisco ferry service and the MUNI bus lines prevented a total collapse.

Not that BART management should escape criticism.  On the contrary, its managers receive far too many paid holidays and far too much severence pay.

And allowing them to save unused vacation and holidays without any limits is a disgraceful practice that should be immediately abolished.

These people–so-called managers and workers–aren’t “public servants.”  They serve only their own selfish interests, and invite only public contempt and outrage.

But this disgraceful situation can change.

“One man with courage,” said Andrew Jackson, “makes a majority.”  And as Harry S. Truman proved during a far more dangerous time.