Boron on the brink
| Saturday, Mar 06 2010 12:00 PM
Last Updated Saturday, Mar 06 2010 12:00 PM
The mine
The eastern Kern County town of Boron is home to the world's largest boron mine. It is operated by U.S. Borax, which is owned by London-based Rio Tinto. Borates from the mine, which have various industrial uses from structural materials to insecticides, were first discovered in the area in 1913. Average pay for union miners is about $26 an hour.
The dispute
Rio Tinto's contract with the International Longshore and Warehouse Union Local 30 expired in November. Soon after, negotiations broke down over whether to give the company more employment flexibility, including in regard to seniority rules.
The company has said it wants to be able to promote and transfer employees based on skills and experience.
The union has said the company wants to replace full-time jobs with benefits with part-time jobs with little or no benefits, but the company denies that is the case.
On Jan. 31, the company locked out union members, giving them final paychecks and busing in replacement workers. No further bargaining sessions have been scheduled as of last week.
Images
Kern County Sheriff Deputies stand outside the U.S. Borax plant in Boron near the area where many who were part of the recent lockout spend time during the day, along the main road into the plant.
Kern County Sheriff Deputies, P. Wennihan, left, and J. Alarcon, right, patrol the main road into the U.S. Borax plant in Boron, where a lockout of many employees recently took place.
Some of the workers who were locked out of the U.S. Borax plant in Boron stand along the main road to the plant's entrance, causing the trucks coming and going to slow down in the area.
The last place to buy gas was at the Boron Service Station on the main street in Boron, but it closed about two years ago, according to one of the longtime residents. Boron residents now have to drive to Kramer Junction, about six miles away, to fill up their vehicles.
Many of the workers who were locked out from working at the U.S. Borax plant in the background spend time while waiting to hear from their union representatives on the main road in and out of the plant in Boron. Dean Tackett, closest to the truck, is one of the locked out workers, and has been with the plant for 12 years.
Eric Sheldon, right, a two-year employee with U.S. Borax, is one of many locked out of work in Boron.
Tammy Brown, who owns Tammy's Gifts and Things in Boron, is concerned about the future of her town and business. Her husband, Arlin Brown, is currently locked out of work at the U.S. Borax plant, where he has worked for 34 years. He started on July 20, 1976.
The U.S. Borax plant in Boron is seen with locked out workers on the road of the main entrance into the plant earlier this year.
F.O. Roe, 77, who owns and operates The Emporium in Boron, has lived there for 52 years and says he is concerned about the future of the town.
Barbara Pratt has lived in Boron since 1932 and is the director of the Boron Chamber of Commerce and works in the museum.
Domingo Gutierrez owns Domingo's Mexican Restaurant in Boron and is considered the honorary mayor of the small eastern Kern County town. His restaurant often serves astronauts from Edwards Air Force Base and other military dignitaries. The photo collage is of Gutierrez flying in an F-16 in the desert.
BORON -- Shopkeeper Tammy Brown was listing some of the local institutions rocked by this town's recent labor lockout -- businesses, churches, schools -- when her husband seated a few feet away gave up his brooding silence to interrupt.
"Living," Arlin Brown said in a quiet voice that betrayed his frustration at having been forced out of his job of 34 years, along with more than 550 co-workers, one Sunday morning in late January.
No doubt life in this high desert community of about 2,000 residents has changed dramatically in the dragging aftermath of the lockout. Belts are tightening everywhere as families draw down their savings to pay bills and pray for a labor agreement that would put people back to work at the nearby Rio Tinto mine that is Boron's largest employer.
Union members said a main impediment to resuming contract talks is the owner's insistence on reducing the role seniority has played at the mine for generations. Company officials countered that they need greater employment flexibility in order to compete globally.
Far-ranging effects
Effects of the impasse go well beyond economics. Tensions rooted in the last major labor dispute in 1974 grow daily, as do fears that this conflict could essentially wipe Boron off the map.
F.O. Roe, a downtown business owner who more or less serves as a town elder, worries that so many families will be forced to pack up and seek employment elsewhere that there will be little left for those who stay behind.
The lockout, he noted, is but the latest of many setbacks for Boron, ranging from freeway construction that bypassed downtown in the 1960s, to a correctional facility that was moved out of the area, to downsizing at the plant a few years ago.
The town's pharmacy closed about five years ago, he said, and three years later the only gas station was gone, too.
"If we can't get around this thing somehow, then this community ..." he said, then after a long pause, continued, "basically turns into a ghost town. And I believe that."
Another longtime resident, Barbara Pratt, director of the local chamber of commerce, said the labor dispute "affects all of us."
"If the union gets locked out, everybody's going to move out, for one thing."
Some locals are more optimistic, but not much more. They note that Edwards Air Force Base also provides nearby employment, as do a rocket testing facility and a solar plant outside of town. Also, many Boron residents are retired and collect Social Security.
But Boron remains a mining town at heart, as is evident in what has taken place around town since mine workers were locked out Jan. 31 and handed their final paychecks.
Almost immediately after that, many parents who had just enrolled their children in baseball and softball contacted the leagues to ask for their money back. Word of their hardship spread to communities outside the area, where people donated fees and uniforms that allowed Boron children to play out the season.
Caught in the middle
Since the lockout, businesses have been pressured to take sides in the conflict, and many have since placed posters in their front windows supporting the union.
Restaurant owner Domingo Gutierrez, Boron's honorary mayor, tried to remain neutral, but ended up being pulled into the dispute when he was accused (falsely, he and others said) of catering a lunch at the mine after the lockout. Now he serves a free lunch once a week to union members who line up at the mine's entrance to protest vehicles that come and go.
"I wanted to clear things out, let people know which side I'm on," he said.
The same tensions have spilled over onto the campus of Boron High School, where children of locked out workers clash, at least verbally, with children of plant managers and others who continue to work at the mine.
"The kids are certainly upset about that," said Rob Challinor, superintendent of the Muroc Joint Unified School District. He added that he is unaware of any recent student fights related to the labor dispute.
The school district is remaining neutral. In the past, the mine's owner has been very generous, donating money for scholararships, programs and construction of the high school pool, he said.
Praying for resolution
The overall feeling at First Baptist Church -- at least among the more senior members -- is more peaceful, more understanding of each side's position, said the 100-member church's pastor, the Rev. Thomas Kinsfather.
"There's an understanding that it's not (local managers') fault," he said.
Since the lockout, attendance at services has increased as members of the congregation are "much more aware of their need right now," Kinsfather said. Every Monday morning a half dozen men get together over coffee at the church to pray with purpose, Kinsfather said: "to be able to go back to work."
Still, apprehension is everywhere. Business owners feel it in terms of drastically reduced sales following the lockout: The owner of Boron Food Mart, Eddie Alwaw, said his sales are off 30 percent. Tammy Brown said business at her gift shop and general merchandise store has "slacked off quite a bit."
Looking elsewhere
In another ominous sign, locked out workers are looking for work outside of town.
Dean Tackett, a locked out mine worker who on Wednesday was taking his turn protesting at the plant entrance, said "everybody's looking" for a job.
"All of us," added Bo Rivera, who stood nearby in the cold desert wind.
The very idea of moving from Boron worries Jimmy Lyon, who has worked at the plant for 30 years and whose son is a fourth-generation miner.
"It scares me," Lyon said. But he added later, "I will if I have to."
Company support
Company spokeswoman Susan Keefe said the company realizes the impact it has on the town.
Over the years, she said, the company has contributed $4.5 million a year to the local tax base in terms of property and payroll taxes. The mine also spends $150 million a year on vendors, and contributes $120,000 a year toward local charities.
The best way to continue that support is to make changes that will increase Rio Tinto's ability to compete overseas, she said.
"We know their businesses are suffering, and we truly regret that," she said. "But we have to think about the long term."
The county supervisor who represents Boron, Don Maben, said it's unlikely that the labor dispute will cause so many people to leave the town that large numbers of businesses will close for good. But it is a possibility, he said.
"It's happened to other mining towns in the past," he said. "That's what happens when you're a one-company town."


