Category Archives: UPS
The Package King’s faithful Teamster
In this second article in an occasional series on the history of United Parcel Service and workers’ resistance to Big Brown, explains how company founder James E. Casey brought in the Teamsters union to avoid the threat of greater labor militancy–and found the kind of labor official he wanted to work with in Dave Beck.
Dave Beck
“I have no use for class warfare.”
–Dave Beck, Teamster general president, 1952-57
DAVE BECK was an ambitious union politician who more than any other official in the history of the Teamsters was responsible for the union’s cozy relationship with UPS for years. Beck is a largely forgotten figure in Teamster history these days, however. If he’s remembered at all, it’s for facilitating the rise of the more ambitious and ruthless Jimmy Hoffa and his Mafia cohorts into the leadership of the union.
The first UPS drivers and package handlers were brought under a Teamster contract in the San Francisco Bay Area. Beck used his power to bring all UPSers on the West Coast into the Teamsters during that 1930s. From these small beginnings grew the enormous presence of UPSers inside the Teamsters–a literal “union within a union.”
UPS founder Jim Casey and Teamsters leader Dave Beck shared much in common. Both were born in the western United States at the end of the 19th century.
Casey hailed from the remote, windswept mining town of Candelaria, Nev. His Irish immigrant father, Henry, was a failed prospector, like many others–also like many others, he developed a debilitating lung disease from his years in the mines, that disabled him for the rest of his life. The Casey family moved to Seattle, and the dominant figure in the family was Jim’s mother Anne.
Beck was born in Stockton, Calif., in 1894 into an extremely poor family that moved to Seattle when he was four years old. Beck’s father was an unsuccessful businessman–from an early age, Dave had to work to help keep the family afloat.
For both Casey and Beck, Seattle became a launching pad for national careers–one in business and the other in the labor movement.
SEATTLE BECAME a boomtown in the late 1890s because of the Klondike Gold Rush, the last great gold rush on the North American continent. The city was the bustling way station for those heading north to the inhospitable and unforgiving environment of the Yukon province of northwestern Canada and Alaska. Eventually 100,000 prospectors made their way north, many outfitted by legitimate and illegitimate businesses serving the needs of the would-be prospectors.
Casey began his career as a messenger at the age of 11 delivering tea (and opium!) throughout Seattle; he was mentored by an elderly Irishman who taught him the delivery business. In 1907, Casey struck out on his own and founded the American Messenger Service, the foundation of UPS. The younger Dave Beck first became a Teamster in 1914, driving a laundry truck at the age of 18.
Seattle and the Pacific Northwest in the years leading up to the First World War was a bastion of U.S. radical politics and working class militancy.
In 1912, Eugene Debs, the presidential candidate of the Socialist Party, received 900,000 votes nationwide with 40,000 of them in the state of Washington. The Industrial Workers of the World (IWW), popularly known as the “Wobblies,” organized thousands of timbers workers through out the Northwest.
The decade after the end of the Klondike Gold Rush saw the economy of the region stagnate, but it began to boom again with the outbreak of war in Europe in 1914. When the U.S. entered the First World War in 1917, the economy boomed even further, resulting in skyrocketing inflation that ate away at worker’s living standards. An even bigger threat to the lives of radicals, trade unionists and “suspect” ethnic minorities was the legal assault on their constitutional freedoms by the state and federal governments and their vigilante allies.
Despite this hostile atmosphere, the union movement represented by the American Federation of Labor (AFL) grew by 400 percent from 1915 to 1918, while radical and revolutionary ideas spread through the working class. There was widespread support for the Russian Revolution of 1917 in the Pacific Northwest.
The tense political atmosphere exploded in the great Seattle General Strike of 1919, when the working class ran the city from February 6 to February 11. An elected strike committee representing the 110 local unions supporting the strike ran the city for five days. It was an incredible display of the potential of workers to run society, not just negotiate a place in it.
Striking trade unionists inspired non-union workers to join the great strike, including the messengers and deliverymen of Merchants Parcel Delivery, the second name by which UPS was known after it merged with a competing company in 1913. Many strikers and supporters were veterans of the First World War, and wore their military uniforms on the picket lines and demonstrations during the General Strike.
One notable exception was Dave Beck. He had joined the Navy soon after the U.S. entered the war in 1917 and had been stationed in England. He returned to Seattle just in time to attend a meeting of his old Teamster local union, the Laundry and Dye Works Driver Local 566, and argued not to join the general strike–it was the only Teamster local in Seattle that didn’t. Beck was proud of his scabbing on the strike, “I don’t know what I said, but I know damned well that I stood them on their feet, and how good that felt to a punk kid in a sailor outfit.”
Seattle booster and historian Nard Jones wrote, “If the general strike made a deep impression on the average citizen, it made even a deeper one on Beck.” It made Beck into a professional anti-communist and an opponent of militant trade unionism.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
ACCORDING TO Greg Niemann, the radicalism of the Seattle working class also made an impression on Jim Casey, who renamed his company United Parcel Service in the historic year of 1919. “Remember,” Niemann wrote, he was always watching. He couldn’t have helped but notice the unrest and the reasons underlying it.”
Whether Jim Casey truly understood the “unrest and the reasons underlying it” is subject to debate. Nevertheless, in 1919, faced with a well-organized union presence in the San Francisco Bay Area, Casey, according to Niemann, “invited the Teamsters to represent the several dozen United Parcel Drivers and part-time hourly package-handling employees on Oakland.”
This was a union beachhead at UPS, for the 1920s saw a tidal wave of union-busting, anti-communism and anti-immigrant hysteria that wiped away most of the gains made by the labor movement during the war years.
Some employers, however, also attempted to use modern sociology and psychology in the hopes of blunting the development of militant class-consciousness and making workers impervious to radical ideas. These were largely cosmetic changes to oppressive workplaces; internal employee corporate relations campaigns encouraged the image of a “family” atmosphere, where employees could make suggestions about better operations.
At UPS, the company newsletter The Big Idea was first published in 1924, and employee stock ownership was introduced in 1927, with these goals in mind. During the 1920s, UPS expanded up and down the West Coast from Oakland to Los Angeles, Portland, San Francisco and San Diego, and brought these policies with them.
During the same decade, Dave Beck emerged as a Teamster leader in Seattle and was poised to become the most powerful Teamster official on the West Coast. Historian David Garnel, in his book The Rise of Teamster Power in the West, described Beck’s rise during these years:
Upon his return from the war, Beck resumed laundry wagon driving and became extremely active in Local 566. He was elected to the executive of his local union and through his position regularly attended the Joint Council meetings. In 1923, Beck was elected president of Joint Council 28, an unpaid position which nevertheless offered him many opportunities to use his skills at oratory. His appetite for leadership whetted, he decided to run for secretary-treasurer of his local, and won. Early in 1925, Beck took over as principle officer of Local 566.
Dan Tobin, the conservative, if not outright reactionary, president of International Brotherhood of Teamsters (IBT), took a liking to Beck and appointed him an international organizer, which not only supplemented Beck’s income, but also widened the scope of his duties and influence on the West Coast.
Beck pursued incredibly conservative, pro-business policies that ultimately had a terrible impact on the rank and file of the union. As Dan LaBotz, author of Rank-and-File Rebellion, wrote, Beck was among the union officials who viewed “the employers as collaborators, rather than as adversaries. The union officials came to identify with the boss and his problems, rather than with the worker and his problems. Guided by this philosophy of collaboration, Beck visited all the Teamster union halls urging wage cuts in 1929 when the Crash occurred and the Great Depression began.”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
IT WASN’T until the mid-1930s that Dave Beck and Jim Casey met face to face to discuss the future of the Teamsters at UPS.
The first beachhead for the Teamsters at UPS was San Francisco, but the city was rocked by a 1934 strike on the San Francisco waterfront–which later spread to almost the entire West Coast–led by Harry Bridges, a well-known radical trade unionist from Australia who was closely allied to the Communist Party. Bridges’ union, later known as the International Longshore and Warehouse Union, not only transformed the notoriously terrible conditions of waterfront work, but threatened the position of the conservative Teamsters in the delivery and warehousing industries.
Faced with this upsurge of radical trade unionism, Jim Casey appears to have made a choice of bargaining with the Teamsters throughout most of the West Coast. But he hit a snag in Los Angeles, a violently anti-union city at the time. Dave Beck later told his biographer John McCallumin that the Teamsters were able to organize UPS from Seattle down the coast to San Francisco-Oakland. “But when it came time to go into Los Angeles,” Beck said, “we hit a brick wall. I mean, we couldn’t make a dent.”
Casey apparently feared the prospect of being ostracized by the powerful Merchants and Manufacturers Association in Los Angeles, which vigilantly policed all businesses to make sure LA remained union-free.
Beck met with Casey, and Casey refused to budge–but he threw the ball back into Beck’s court, saying, “I don’t know, you figure it out.” Beck replied, “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Beck says he told Casey to tell the association leaders that when UPS contracts expired throughout the West Coast, “we are either going to work for UPS in Los Angeles on the same conditions as in other cities or we are not going to work for you in any other city.”
According to Beck, the association leaders promised to underwrite UPS against any strike by the Teamsters in LA, but that Casey told the employers’ group, “If I have to fight the Teamsters in the western part of the United States, and later on maybe all over the country, I’ll have to sign with the Teamsters and take my chances with you here in LA.” Beck declared, “[F]rom that day to this, we’ve been organized with no interruptions or major labor disturbances of any significance. Soon after, we did identically the same thing with all the major companies there.”
This highly effective strategy for gaining union recognition was taken straight from the playbook of Minneapolis Teamsters, led by revolutionary socialists such the Dunne brothers, Farrell Dobbs and Carl Skoglund. Beck would later play a central role in expelling socialists from the Teamsters in the early 1940s, but he wasn’t averse to stealing their strategies while hating their politics.
Beck became more remote and conservative, as he grew more powerful. Historian Murray Morgan, in his “Skid Road: An Informal History of Seattle,” captured the changing personality and lifestyle of the once poor kid:
[Beck’s] observance of the rituals of being rich became more conspicuous. His clothes grew richer and better tailored, his office larger and more deep-toned, his cars longer, his phone conversations curter, his invitations to the annual Round Up Party at the Washington Athletic Club–a must for business and political leaders–more peremptory. It was during this period that Dave Beck moved from the modest frame house which had pinned him to the middle class, into a new Sheridan Beach estate with private pool, private cinema, even sumptuous private quarters for his private bodyguards.
Wealth and power fed arrogance and contempt toward the union members Beck claimed to represent: “Why should truck drivers and bottle washers be allowed to make decisions affecting [Teamster] policy?” he demanded to know. “No corporation would allow it.”
UPS man spending too much time in sun?
Retirees Have to Pay Deductible Again
Even though current retirees have satisfied this years deductible for their health plans, with the implementation of the “new” healthcare plan, negotiated between UPS and the Teamsters, current retirees will be subject to the deductible portion of the plan on June 1st when the “new” plan is put into place. Aetna has been given the opportunity to re-collect the deductible and gouge retirees for up to an additional $400.
During negotiations we were led to believe that our retiree health plans were going to remain the same. Guess we should have known that we were being misled just like the active rank and file. Pretty tough to make these changes on a retirees income. Sure would have been nice to at least get some advance notice, and maybe some say in the negotiation process. Not so for todays Teamster Retiree!
What a thoughtful company
Crews cleared the scene of a fiery crash along Interstate 85 northbound after an 18-wheeler wrecked into an overpass at mile marker 30 on Thursday night.
Anderson County fire officials said a UPS truck hit the bridge that crosses over Cherokee Road and caught fire.
The driver and a passenger from Illinois were pulled from the truck and taken by EMS to Greenville Hospital, officials said. Their condition is unknown at this time.
Lance Cpl. Gary Miller said a tire malfunction caused the tractor trailer to run off the side of the road.
UPS released the following statement about the accident on Friday:
At UPS, our concern is for the health and recovery of our two drivers. UPS continues to cooperate with the investigating authorities. We are also in the process of assessing the extent of the damage to packages on the tractor trailer. UPS is contacting customers whose packages were damaged or destroyed and we will make them whole.
New Summary Plan Descriptions Mailed to Retirees
After being reassured that the Retirees Health plan remained unchanged, all of the retirees are being sent a new summary plan description which drastically alters coverages and costs to retirees.
Just an example of those changes is the prescription coverages. Where many of our prescriptions were covered at 100%, now we will pay 20% of the cost. Additionally, where many of us were on a 90%-10% plan, we are now being reduced to an 80%-20% plan. Another huge increase in costs.
The biggest, most devastating cost though is the inclusion of a $200 per person, $400 family deductible. Many of the current plans did not include a deductible.
These are the most glaring changes in the Summary Plan Description. The worst part is that most of the retirees I know, that retired before the contract negotiations, were led to believe that our healthcare package would remain unchanged.
The consistent story in these negotiations seems to be the Internationals secrecy in negotiating on our behalf.
Here’s another example!
His Passport Took a Two-Year Vacation (Without Him)
It’s been a little over two years since the Haggler’s passport vanished. Longtime readers may recall the particulars: While visiting Stanford University, the Haggler had his passport shipped from Manhattan overnight via United Parcel Service, for a quick and unscheduled trip to Canada. Days passed, and no passport arrived. Calls were made. Facilities were searched. More calls were made. More facilities were searched.
The document was never seen again. Poof. It had vanished
“Wait just a minute,” the Haggler can hear readers exclaim incredulously. “What about the law of conservation of mass, as stated by the 18th-century French chemist Antoine Lavoisier, which holds that mass can neither be created nor destroyed?”
Well played, readers! Here’s the thing: That law was discovered long before U.P.S. was founded. Seriously, if U.P.S. had been around in the age of Lavoisier, the guy would never have called it “the law of conservation of mass.” It would be more like “a suggestion” or “a guiding principle with a glaring exception.” Because U.P.S. has the ability to make mass evaporate.
Or so it seemed. A few weeks ago, a woman at Stanford called with some remarkable news.
“Your passport just arrived here,” she said.
Well, well. The Haggler speculated about what this document had been up to, lo these many months. Perhaps it had been flying around the world, getting stamped in exotic countries. But the truth was mundane.
“We traced it to a pickup point of a U.P.S. letter drop box by an office building in Westbury on Long Island,” wrote Susan Rosenberg, a U.P.S. spokeswoman.
That’s right: The package was placed in a U.P.S. drop box on Long Island. And apparently it looked precisely the way it did when it was initially mailed. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for its two-year absence from the U.P.S. system.
So what happened here? How did this package wind up in Westbury, and where had it been languishing? U.P.S. could offer only theories.
The first, Ms. Rosenberg said, was that a U.P.S. driver had somehow mixed up that package with shipping supplies that were then dropped off at some company on Long Island.
“Our drivers deliver a lot of supplies,” she explained in a phone interview, “and the conjecture is that somehow, your express envelope got put together with supplies and delivered to another building, in a bundle of supplies. Somebody who works in Westbury must have eventually looked at the envelope and realized, ‘Oh, this has a label on it.’ ”
And into the drop box it went, then off to Stanford.
Ms. Rosenberg emphasized that this was just a theory. It appeared to be the best that a U.P.S. brain trust of wayward-package theorizers could conceive.
But one wonders: Wouldn’t a package that had been out of the U.P.S. system for more than two years raise a red flag as it re-entered the system? Wouldn’t a scanning device bleep and deliver a “Huh?” kind of noise?
Not necessarily, Ms. Rosenberg said. The package was lost so long that it had effectively aged out of the system. Which apparently means that it was treated like a brand new package.
Continue reading the main story
Continue reading the main story
Advertisement
As the Haggler was trying to fathom all this, “Planet Money” — the consistently outstanding NPR podcast about all things economic — did a show called “The Future of Work Looks Like a U.P.S. Truck.” It was about the almost alarming number of ways that U.P.S. tracks its drivers and their trucks. The vehicles are studded with sensors so that the company can keep track of just about everything — when a driver opens and closes the truck’s door, starts the truck, turns off the truck, puts on a seatbelt. The company even keeps tabs on when a driver puts a truck in reverse, and for how long.
All of this data is sent to Paramus, N.J., where it is sifted by engineers on an endless quest to shave seconds off of delivery and pickup times.
This focus on time has yielded results. A driver told “Planet Money” that years ago he could handle 90 deliveries a day. Now he can handle 120.
The Haggler listened in a state of bemused stupefaction. This company can tell how much time a truck spent, each day, going backward, but it can lose a package? And when that package reappears, it can offer only educated guesses about its journey?
When the Haggler emailed these sentiments to Ms. Rosenberg, she thanked the Haggler for his kind words about U.P.S.’s technological achievements, which are truly impressive. Then she said the company had a new theory about that lost-and-found passport.
“We now believe that it didn’t go beyond its initial pickup,” she wrote, “possibly being mishandled by the driver before he or she ever made it back to the delivery center to move through other scanning and transit.”
Hmm. Then how did it get to Long Island? As the Haggler pondered that one, he realized that the “Planet Money” podcast was all about streamlining the routes of drivers. Maybe when the company is done with that effort, it can fail-safe the system of package-tracking, so that passports don’t disappear.
That work may not save the company millions of dollars a year, and it probably won’t reduce the amount of time that U.P.S. trucks spend in reverse. But it would be progress.
EMAIL: haggler@nytimes.com. Keep it brief and family-friendly, include your hometown and go easy on the caps-lock key. Letters may be edited for clarity and length.
UPS and the “Package King”
In this first article in an occasional series on the history of United Parcel Service and workers’ resistance to Big Brown, examines the company’s founder James E. Casey–the so-called “Package King”–whose personality and polices still shape UPS to this very day.

“Deft fingers wrapping thousands of bundles…What a treat! Ah, packages!”
— James E. Casey
THERE ARE few other things in life that get a UPS supervisor or manager more excited than the sight of thousands of packages or Next Day Air envelopes careening down the myriad of belts crisscrossing the company’s sorting and distribution centers–known as “hubs” in the company lingo–across the world.
Their eyes widen and their breath quickens. You can almost see the dollars signs popping up in their eyes, like old-fashioned cash registers, as each package passes by. These packages of every shape and size are like little nuggets of gold, from which the UPS fortune is made.
They are more important than the physical and mental health of the workers who sort, load, unload, repair, clerk and deliver them. UPS includes in its corporate “mission” statement noble-sounding words like “service” and “integrity”–as if the company is most concerned with promoting the common good. But Big Brown is, after all, first and foremost in the business of making money off of its workers.
The obsession with packages goes right back to the company’s hallowed founder, James E. Casey. “Casey once told me that he had never drunk a glass of milk in his life,” the head of a department store told a reporter for The New Yorker for a 1947 story, “and I thought for a minute, he might stop talking about those goddamn packages and tell me why he never drunk a glass of milk. But no! He went right into night loading operations in Chicago.” Clearly, Casey wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
On another occasion, Casey, while visiting a client’s store, dropped into the wrapping room and was reportedly ecstatic at the sight: “Casey’s eyes sparkled, and he began to twitch. ‘Deft fingers!’ he said. ‘Deft fingers wrapping thousands of bundles. Neatly tied. Neatly addressed! Stuffed with soft tissue paper! What a treat! Ah, packages!'”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
WHAT SPARKED the interest of The New Yorker about Jim Casey and UPS in this post-Second World War era? It appears to have been a messy, wildcat strike on the streets of Manhattan that shut down UPS operations for 51 days in the fall of 1946. (More on this later.)
Those were the days when UPS did home deliveries for New York City’s leading department stores, such as Lord & Taylor. Customers would buy their items, and the department store would package and wrap them, then hand them over to UPS for home delivery. The strike prevented New York’s middle- and upper-class shoppers from getting their goods, which seems to have the eye of the editors at the New Yorker.
Philip Hamburger–who would stay at the New Yorker for a total of six and a half decades–was assigned to go interview Casey and get a feel for the company that had become so indispensable to New York City’s retail businesses.
The company was already a third of a century old by this point. A 19-year-old Casey founded UPS in 1907 as a bicycle messenger service in Seattle. In 1913, it started to deliver packages, and over the next decade, the company spread down the West Coast.
By 1934, Casey was important enough to be featured in the “Talk of the Town” section of the New Yorker. The editors gave the story the distinctly condescending title of “Errand Boy.” It was a short article that acknowledged Casey had begun his career doing “errands,” but his business had changed considerably: “He’s sort of an errand king now, the head of the United Parcel Service, which delivers packages by the millions in this city and elsewhere.”
The article, by an unnamed author, picked up on company policies that struck many people then (and now) as military or even cult-like: “The employees are about as regimented a bunch of people as you’ve ever heard of. For his first few weeks, he is tutored in driving, delivery and courtesy. This involves a hundred and thirty-eight rules.”
The story goes on to mention a summer camp: “When business is slack, the unmarried deliveryman may spend their time at a camp in Connecticut which the company operates for them. Several hundred go there every year for a month or two.” What went on in these summer camps may be lost to history, but they were clearly about creating a private world, where employees were strongly encouraged to adopt the values of Jim Casey.
By the time Philip Hamburger interviewed Casey following the Second World War, Casey’s stature in New York had made a big leap forward. Reflecting this, he was bumped up to the “Profiles” section of The New Yorker, usually reserved for major figures of the business and political world.
Casey was no longer a new face in town–he was the head of a major business, and a growing one. Late in 1946, UPS delivered its one-billionth package. In 1947, it employed 2,800 people and operated 1,700 trucks in New York City alone. It was operating in 17 major cities across the U.S. and delivering 100 million packages a year.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
WHAT MAKES Hamburger’s profile of Casey so interesting seven decades later is that it gives an unvarnished look at the man, as opposed to the manufactured legend familiar to UPSers today. Casey comes across as an austere disciplinarian with a more than slightly loopy fascination with packages.
“Casey is a tall, spare man of 59, with high cheekbones and, most of the time, a rigidly detached expression,” reported Hamburger. He found Casey hard to interview, describing him as a “taciturn”–what most of us would call dour–who was reluctant to answer questions.
However, when reporter and interviewee moved from Casey’s fourth floor office at the old Manhattan hub on First Avenue to view the endlessly moving belts of the package sorting system below, Casey perked up. “He becomes animated in the presence of packages.” Hamburger described the “surf-like rumble of the parcels” filling the air–something that anybody who has spent any time in a UPS hub will recognize to this day.
“Casey’s life is devoted almost entirely to packages,” Hamburger reported, though this vocation was combined with a deliberate faux modesty about it all–“Anybody can deliver a package,” Casey told Hamburger. But Hamburger wasn’t buying the line–“He does not believe it,” the reporter wrote.
Hamburger picked up on the way Casey packaged UPS’s image, just like the neat and tidy packages his drivers picked up at fashionable New York department stores, and that so delighted Casey. “Over the years,” Hamburger wrote, “Casey has taken what might look like to outsiders like the simple job of handling and delivering packages and turned it into a semi-religious rite.”
A “simple job” is an overstatement, but “turning it into a semi-religious rite” is right on the money. Every aspect of the company image was carefully created, from the crisply pressed brown uniforms to the company slogan “Safe, Swift, Sure.” The mystique of the UPS driver was an important selling point–an incredulous Hamburger wrote that the drivers “are governed by a series of regulations that could be easily be mistaken for the house rules of a Tibetan monastery.”
Drivers had to carefully study–before hitting the road each day–illustrated cards that scolded them to: “Check and double check: Are your shoes shined? Is your hair cut? Are you clean-shaven? Are your hands clean? Is your uniform pressed?”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
IF THIS seems like an obnoxious way to treat grown adults, it didn’t seem to bother Casey, who made periodic visits to UPS hubs to enforce the rules, like a general inspecting his troops. “On one such visit,” according to Hamburger, “he stood by as a [hub] supervisor assembled a group of drivers and package sorters, and examined their shoe shines and haircuts.” He then declared, “The spokes of our wheel spell service,” and left the building.
Casey made workers jump through hoops to get hired. According to Hamburger:
Applicants for United Parcel Service jobs must, first of all, impress a personnel man with their neatness and courtesy. If they pass muster on those counts, they are subjected to intelligence tests. No one at United Parcel, least of all Casey, is searching for a genius-type deliveryman. The personnel department has discovered that high-scoring applicants are inclined to be temperamental and to mislay their bundles. Assuming that the results of an applicant’s test place him somewhere in the broad category between wizard and idiot, and that job is available, he is hired.
Hamburger’s snide comments aside, he does capture Casey’s search for the moldable personality he could shape into the proper driver. This molding process continued after work hours. “A man who gets a job at United Parcel finds that his education has just begun,” Hamburger writes. “The leisure hours of an employee are supposed to be crowded with self-improvement projects.”
Such projects included reading the UPS newsletter The Big Idea, which was filled with homilies to the UPS way of doing business, employee profiles and witticisms from Casey himself.
The UPS search for the perfect worker led to periodic rebellions against the military disciple and cult-like atmosphere at the heart of Casey’s policies. The company’s founder never tired of trying to “improve” his drivers. One of Casey’s more obsequious biographers, Gregg Niemann, in his 2007 book Big Brown: The Untold Story of UPS, enthusiastically defends such policies with the statement, “UPSers turn out better than machines.”
Casey’s obsession with packages also never flagged. In one memorable scene in Hamburger’s article, he captured both Casey’s fascination and bigotries together:
Recently, he stood silent with a friend, watching thousands and thousands of packages. He was silent for several minutes. Then his face lighted up. He seemed exhilarated. “Packages for everybody!’ he exclaimed suddenly. “Packages for Chinatown–a difficult area. Drivers have trouble remembering who they left the package with–everybody looks alike! Packages for Harlem–hardly any charge accounts in Harlem! Packages for the West Side–democratic neighborhood. Give packages the kind of welcome packages deserve! Packages for Greenwich Village–very odd packages!
In the next installment of this series: How did the Teamsters penetrate this strange little fiefdom?
How to find a good restaurant
UPS | A Sci-fi VFX short film
UPS guy loses his job to a new guy. Can he get his job back?