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February 12, 1837
Presentiment of a panic
On this day in 1837, an irate group of unemployed New Yorkers gathered to protest skyrocketing food and fuel prices, as well as the city's rapidly escalating rents. The demonstration quickly degenerated into violence, as the workers turned their anger on a flour warehouse. For the city, as well as the rest of the nation, the outburst was a strong indicator of the fiscal troubles that would bubble over later that year. Come that May, a host of events, including a wave of bank failures and a brewing recession, both of which stemmed from President Andrew Jackson's decision to yank all Federal deposits from the second Bank of the United States, signaled the onset of the Panic of 1837. The panic hung over America for the next seven years, debilitating the nation's economy and triggering rampant unemployment.
February 12, 1880
Birth of a labor leader
Along with ruling over one of the nation's landmark unions, the United Mine Workers Association (UMWA), for forty years, John L. Lewis was a frequent lightning rod for controversy, as well as a target of periodic blasts of public and political scorn. Born in Iowa on this day in 1880, Lewis had hardly hit puberty when he went to work in the coal mines of Illinois. The job set Lewis on a steady track to power and prominence: by 1911, he was an organizer for the mine union's parent organization, the American Federation of Labor (A.F. of L.). Eight years later, Lewis was the president of the UMWA, America's biggest and most powerful trade union. In one of his earliest moves in office, Lewis led the organization's members in a triumphant, nationwide strike. However, this moment of glory quickly faded: the economy slumped in the wake of World War I, which hurt coal prices and threatened mine worker's wages and jobs. Lewis responded with a drive to nationalize the coal industry, but his proposal was roundly dismissed. Non-unionized coal mines rose in prominence throughout the 1920s, siphoning off the UMWA's membership and gradually wresting control of a majority of the nation's coal production. Though some within the union challenged Lewis's authority, he survived the crisis of the '20s and managed to expand his power during the next few decades. He organized the Congress of Industrial Organizations, a potent group of eight unions, including the UMWA, which, though initially affiliated with the A.F. of L., later in the decade became a powerful and independent entity in its own right. And, though a staunch Republican, Lewis found a powerful new ally in President Franklin Roosevelt. Indeed, Lewis viewed Roosevelt's New Deal legislation as a tremendous boon for labor and unabashedly pushed the movement to walk in lockstep with the White House. However, Lewis was something of an autocrat and fiercely protected his place atop the labor movement. When Roosevelt won a third term in office, Lewis, fearing that the increasingly powerful president would wrest control of the unions, pulled the UMWA out of the pro-White House CIO. Throughout the rest of the 1940s, Lewis led the coal workers in a number of high- profile walkouts. However, the seeming profusion of strikes emboldened anti-union forces, who soured public support for labor and successfully pushed for the passage of the Taft-Hartley Act (1947), which restricted labor's ability to call for the closed shop. These moves prompted Lewis to adopt more conciliatory tactics during the 1950s. In 1960, Lewis finally unleashed his grip on the UMWA's top spot. He remained involved in the organization until he died in 1969.
February 12, 1987
The case against Texaco
During the mid-1980s, two of the nation's oil giants, Texaco and Penzoil, engaged in a nasty, protracted battle to acquire a plum prize--Getty Oil. When Getty first went on the block, Penzoil made a handsome $5.3 billion offer; Getty accepted the bid and Penzoil's purchase was duly celebrated by both sides. However, the deal was never sealed with a written contract, opening the door for Texaco to make a bid that doubled Penzoil's offer. Smelling pay dirt, Getty shunned its original suitor and brokered a deal with Texaco, who wisely confirmed the acquisition with a written contract. But, Penzoil battled back, suing Texaco for proffering an illegal takeover bid. In 1985, a Texas court ruled that, despite never signing a formal contract, Penzoil and Getty had nonetheless consented to a binding deal, and Texaco was slapped with a whopping $10.5 billion fine. Texaco responded with a counter-suit, but the company's efforts ultimately proved futile: on this day in 1987, a Texas court upheld the initial decision in the case, preserving the hefty fine against Texaco.
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