Joseph Sabino Mistick: Broken promises in the Mon Valley

The big steelmakers have been breaking hearts and promises in the Mon Valley since Andrew Carnegie fired up his first Bessemer converter at Braddock’s Edgar Thomson Works in 1875. That’s why, last week, when U.S. Steel pulled the plug on its promise to modernize the mills in the Mon Valley, nobody should have been surprised.

In May 2019, U.S. Steel promised a $1.2 billion upgrade of the Mon Valley Works — composed of mills in Braddock, Clairton and West Mifflin. It would have created 1,000 construction jobs, protected 3,000 steelworker jobs, increased production and resulted in cleaner air. It raised a lot of hope.

The big announcement had all the corporate hoopla that would have been justified, if only it were true. The cancellation announcement was made with the hemming and hawing and double-speak that is used for corporate bad news. Once again, it became clear that the only way to keep from being disappointed by U.S. Steel is to expect to be disappointed.

The people who worked in the mills and factories in that valley have always loved steelmaking and its muscular culture, but it was an unrequited love from the beginning. The company never loved them back and never invested in the people who had invested their lives in the mills. And since World War II, it refused to spend the money necessary to modernize and stay competitive.

An immigrant grandfather that I never met came to this country to make steel and was killed in the mill, his death not even making the news. Until the day he died, he spoke proudly about making steel beams for the Golden Gate Bridge. And, along with his fellow steelworkers, he dutifully worked back-breaking 12-hour shifts to build America and help win two world wars.

During the Cold War, when it was reported that Pittsburgh was high on the Soviet Union’s target list because of its industrial might, there was proud talk instead of anxiety around the supper tables in the Mon Valley. Pittsburgh was surrounded by underground Nike missile sites then, confirmation that the work in the mills was vital for freedom.

It seemed like everybody who died of natural causes in my valley had “a touch of emphysema” or “a touch of lung cancer.” It wasn’t just the millworkers who paid the price for all that industrial might. If it was a choice between pocketing profits or investing in life-saving pollution controls, the ever-smoky skies showed us where we stood.

There were ups and downs between the company and the workers — short wildcat strikes, months-long strikes at contract time and company lockouts. Once the workers formed unions, they got the fair treatment they deserved. But every day, union or not, they worked as hard as they could.

None of that matters to U.S. Steel. They see bigger profits elsewhere, and that’s their right, but it is time to stop stringing us along. And, as America starts its comeback, our leaders must find the next big thing for our towns.

There are still great expanses of flat land along the Monongahela River, those natural assets that first brought industry here. And that tradition of hard work and sacrifice, unmatched in the world, is still in the air.