A labor union in Southern California dug its heels in the ground and declared, “Hell, no, this won't go!”
The “this” in question was a new store in Inglewood, Calif., by that notorious non-union shop, Wal-Mart. The union claimed that Wal-Mart stores depress local economies because so many of their workers are part-time and paid slightly above minimum wage. Also, because about two-thirds of Wal-Mart employees do not receive health benefits, local medical services are unduly burdened.
The union raised a $3 million war chest, and its efforts paid off – at least for the moment. The Inglewood city council voted in October to block construction of the new supercenter.
Wal-Mart sighed and said it would fight this. “We're not accepting that this ordinance is permanent yet,” said a spokesman for the retailer. “It may mean that we'll launch a referendum or seek a repeal.”
This is not a new fight for the world's largest company. Ever since it began gobbling up real estate, it has had to fight for nearly every inch of ground. Towns have tried to block Wal-Mart incursions on behalf of local mom-and-pops, on environmental issues, on commercial issues, on political issues, on regulatory issues, on labor issues.
Vermont, that bastion of pine forests and Yankee independence, fought the longest and hardest before it finally relinquished. But first, it forced Wal-Mart to trim its first store in the state to 75,000 square feet – a corner shop by Wal-Mart standards. That was in 1994. I'm not sure how Vermonters have since reacted to the everyday low prices and wide merchandise selections they weren't getting from old Percy's general store.
Many people are pleased that pure size doesn't always get what it wants. Well, those who are rooting against Wal-Mart should look at a little town in New York State's Adirondack Mountain region. When Ames Department Stores went out of business in August 2002, shuttering more than 300 stores, one of its closings was in Tupper Lake, N.Y. People there suddenly lost their most convenient shopping outlet. Second-most convenient location was a half-hour away in Saranac Lake, N.Y., but that was also an Ames. Third-most convenient was an 80-minute drive to a Wal-Mart in Plattsburgh, N.Y. A long drive for some batteries or a carton of milk.
Not only have people in the region lost a place to shop, but many of them have lost jobs, too. Ames was a major employer.
There are still stores in the area, of course, but way too many of them sell pine-scented candles and wood-carved coasters to the tourists.
So what has the Tupper Lake mayor done? You got it! She's pleading with Wal-Mart to come take a look.
Anti-Wal-Mart sentiment clucks about the beloved corner stores that get plowed under, but people vote with their feet – and those feet have been carrying them to Wal-Mart for 40 years. As Ames and Kmart and Caldor and Bradlees and others close their doors, nobody can rival Wal-Mart's capital and ability to expand into unserved locations.
If Inglewood, Calif., does prevent the Wal-Mart incursion, people in the Los Angeles area will have lots of other shopping options. But in rural upstate New York, Wal-Mart isn't just a retailer – it's a glimmer of hope.