At the Triangle Shirtwaist Company,in the winter of 1909,women organized and decided to strike.Soon they were walking the picket line in the cold,knowing they could not win while the other factories were operating.A mass meeting was called of workers in the other shops,and Clara Lemlich,in her teens,an eloquent speaker,still bearing the signs of her recent beating on the picket line,stood up:"I offer a resolution that a general strike be declared now!"The meeting went wild;they voted to strike. Pauline Newman,one of the strikers,recalled years later the beginning of the general strike: Thousands upon thousands left the factories from every side,all of them walking down toward Union Square.It was November,the cold winter was just around the corner,we had no fur coats to keep warm,and yet there was the spirit that led us on and on until we got to some hall.... I can see the young people,mostly women,walking down and not caring what might happen...the hunger,cold,loneliness....They just didn't care on that particular day;that was their day. The union had hoped three thousand would join the strike.Twenty thousand walked out.Every day a thousand new members joined the union,the International Ladies Garment Workers Union,which before this had few women Colored women were active in the strike,which went on through the winter,against polce,against scabs,against arrests and prison.In more than three hundred shops,worhers won their demands. Women now became officials in the union.Pauline Newman again: We tried to educate ourselves.I would invite the girs to my rooms,and we took turns reading poetry in English to improve our understonding of the language.One of our favorites was Thomas Hood's "Song of the Shirt,"and another...Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Mask of Anarchy."... "Rise like lions after slumber In unvanquishable number! Shake your chains to earth,likedew Which in sleep had fallen on you- Ye are many,they are few!" The conditions in the factories did not change much.On the afternoon of March 25, 1911,a fire at the Triangle Shirtwaist Company that began in a rag bin swept through the eighth,ninth,and tenth floors,too high for fire ladders to reach.The fire chief of New York had said that his ladders could reach only to the seventh floor.But half of New York's 500,000 workers spent all day,perhaps twelve hours,above the seventh floor.The laws said factory doors had to open outward.But at the Triangle Company the doors opened in.The law said the doors could not be locked during working hours,but at the Triangle Company doors were usually locked so the company could keep track of the employees.And so,trapped,the young women were burned to death at their work-tables, or jammed against the locked exit door,or leaped to their deaths down the elevator shafts The New York World reported: ..screaming men and women and boys and girls crowded out on the many window ledges and threw themselves into the streets far below.They jumped with their clothing ablaze.The hair of some of the girls streamed up aflame as they leaped.Thud after thud sounded on the pavements.It is a ghastly fact that on both the Greene Street and Washington Place sides of the building there grew mounds of the dead and dying....At the Triangle Shirtwaist Company, in the winter of 1909, women organized and decided to strike. Soon they were walking the picket line in the cold, knowing they could not win while the other factories were operating. A mass meeting was called of workers in the other shops, and Clara Lemlich, in her teens, an eloquent speaker, still bearing the signs of her recent beating on the picket line, stood up: "I offer a resolution that a general strike be declared now!" The meeting went wild; they voted to strike. Pauline Newman, one of the strikers, recalled years later the beginning of the general strike: Thousands upon thousands left the factories from every side, all of them walking down toward Union Square. It was November, the cold winter was just around the corner, we had no fur coats to keep warm, and yet there was the spirit that led us on and on until we got to some hall. . . . I can see the young people, mostly women, walking down and not caring what might happen . .. the hunger, cold, loneliness.. .. They just didn't care on that particular day; that was their day. The union had hoped three thousand would join the strike. Twenty thousand walked out. Every day a thousand new members joined the union, the International Ladies Garment Workers Union, which before this had few women. Colored women were active in the strike, which went on through the winter, against police, against scabs, against arrests and prison. In more than three hundred shops, workers won their demands. Women now became officials in the union. Pauline Newman again: We tried to educate ourselves. I would invite the girls to my rooms, and we took turns reading poetry in English to improve our understanding of the language. One of our favorites was Thomas Hood's "Song of the Shirt," and another . . . Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Mask of Anarchy." ... "Rise like lions after slumber In unvanquishable number! Shake your chains to earth, like dew. Which in sleep had fallen on you- Ye are many, they are few!" The conditions in the factories did not change much. On the afternoon of March 25, 1911, a fire at the Triangle Shirtwaist Company that began in a rag bin swept through the eighth, ninth, and tenth floors, too high for fire ladders to reach. The fire chief of New York had said that his ladders could reach only to the seventh floor. But half of New York's 500,000 workers spent all day, perhaps twelve hours, above the seventh floor. The laws said factory doors had to open outward. But at the Triangle Company the doors opened in. The law said the doors could not be locked during working hours, but at the Triangle Company doors were usually locked so the company could keep track of the employees. And so, trapped, the young women were burned to death at their work-tables, or jammed against the locked exit door, or leaped to their deaths down the elevator shafts. The New York World reported: .. . screaming men and women and boys and girls crowded out on the many window ledges and threw themselves into the streets far below. They jumped with their clothing ablaze. The hair of some of the girls streamed up aflame as they leaped. Thud after thud sounded on the pavements. It is a ghastly fact that on both the Greene Street and Washington Place sides of the building there grew mounds of the dead and dying. .. . no profit use only