Cape Breton Post on 07/12/08 Fanny Cohen recalls some details around miner's strike of 1925 LEROY PEACH The Cape Breton Post In her I00 years, Fanny Cohen has lived through some turbulent times, not the least of which were the labour disputes of 1923 and 1925. The need for coal and steel lessened after the First World War. Mines worked sporadically. Miners relied upon company stores. A consortium called Besco, originating primarily in Halifax, was formed in 1920 to run the steel mill and coal mines, the sources of two-thirds of provincial revenues. As markets contracted, the under-capitalized company consistently rolled back wages, attempting to solve their problems on the backs of miners. Hence the labour strife of 1923 and 1925. Fanny remembered the strike of 1925 and beyond. "I wish that I could erase it from my memory," she said. Children could not attend school and there was "widespread poverty and in some cases starvation," according to Don MacGillivray of Cape Breton University. Federal and provincial governments absolutely refused to help. By June, the company cut off credit from its stores. There were no safety nets such as foodbanks. Mining families were therefore left to starve. Miners had to rely upon farmers, churches and the goodwill of merchants such as the British Canadian Co-operative, which opened a soup kitchen. Federal politicians from Cape Breton sided with Besco. The provincial Liberals offered absolutely no relief until late in the strike when they gave the miniscule sum of $20,000 to the Red Cross to improve health. The United Mine Workers only provided $10,000 a week near the end of the strike. On the other hand, the federal government sent aid to sufferers from a hurricane in the Leeward Islands. The focus of the provincial and federal governments was to protect the mines. Enter the provincial police and the Canadian militia. "We lived on Pitt Street and the mine was at the head of the street," Fanny said. She recalled the sounds of the horses ridden by policemen clip-clopping down the street every night from the mine. Her father, a merchant, once sent Fanny with a basket to a very poor lady, a former customer, and she had to run the gauntlet of cat-calling policemen. The lady was reluctant to take the basket because there were other starving families in the neighbourhood. Later in the strike, the town issued chits which families could exchange for food at merchants that they dealt with previously. Bakers delivered bread. One woman came to Fanny's mother crying over the quality of the bread, which was spongy in her hands. Some help came from across Canada. There were soup kitchens in schools. The children were asked to bring a bowl and a spoon. Fanny recalled that two young boys brought the bowls but they did not have the spoons and had to put their fists in the bowls. The next day they were provided with spoons. This piece only scratches the surface of this devastating time. But as I researched the strike, and especially as I read about the legendary J.B. McLachlan, I was becoming more infuriated, for it reminded me that we Cape Bretoners are defined by past exploitation from outsiders. MacGillivray reported that in 1927, the distinguished Canadian poet Dorothy Livesay said when she entered Cape Breton she couldn't understand why this "new land" was not a province. For years, I've wondered about that myself. LeRoy Peach lives in Port Morien and may be reached at leroy_peach@yahoo.ca. His column appears every week in the Cape Breton Post