Grounding A

By Lee Griggs

Bundled against the late-night chill, placard-carrying pickets took up their posts last week at plant gates all around Seattle. Suddenly, the world's busiest producer of commercial aircraft was crippled. The strike at Boeing by more than 57,000 members of the International Association of Machinists and Aerospace Workers brought new-plane production to a virtual halt at the company's main manufacturing plants in the Seattle area, where 43,000 of the machinists work, and at other factories in Portland, Ore., and Wichita.

The first strike against Boeing in twelve years, the walkout came after a federal mediator failed to bring labor and management together on a new contract. Union Vice President Justin Ostro drew cheers from machinists in Seattle's Kingdome when he declared, "There is no good time to strike, only a right time to strike."

The proposed three-year contract that the machinists rejected offered pay raises of 4% in the first year and 3% in each of the next two, bonus payments of 8% the first year and 3% the second, improved health benefits and a 20% cutback in mandatory overtime. Boeing considered the offer "generous," said spokesman Russell Young. But union official Jack Daniels of District 751 in Seattle dismissed it as "peanuts," pointing to Boeing's profit of $614 million in 1988 and $356 million in the first half of this year.

The strike catches Boeing with an unprecedented order backlog of 1,063 commercial jets valued at $80 billion. Delivery dates are in danger of slipping as the company tries to meet surging demand from airlines eager to modernize their aging jet fleets. Earlier this year Boeing was forced to stretch out delivery schedules for its newest jumbo, the 747-400, and to hire hundreds of workers from rival Lockheed to get the program back on a credible schedule. Last week Boeing executives were reassuring customers that the strike, if it is short, would not mean further delivery delays.

Ironically, aerospace experts said, both sides in the dispute could use a breathing spell. The company needs to perform plant maintenance and restock parts for the assembly lines, and the machinists want to relax after a long stint of forced overtime -- as much as 200 hours a quarter in many cases.

Yet a strike as long as the last one, which went on for 45 days in 1977, could be devastating to all sides. Boeing is far and away the largest employer in both the Seattle area (where it has 106,000 workers) and the state (144,725) and spends as much as $1 billion a year on supplies in the region. A prolonged stoppage would cost thousands of jobs in other areas, ranging from parts manufacturers to restaurants. Increased unemployment would have a heavy impact on the state government, which has no income tax and is heavily dependent on sales-tax revenue. Around the world, delayed plane deliveries would keep aging aircraft flying thousands of additional miles instead of being replaced by new Boeing wide-bodies.

No new talks have been scheduled on ending the walkout. The machinists can fall back on their $90 million strike fund, but Boeing is under pressure to deliver 94 more jet airliners before year-end. In the interim, Boeing intends to use supervisors and nonunion personnel to put the final touches on dozens of jets that stand virtually completed at its assembly plants in Renton and Everett, Wash. The company pledges to observe strict safety standards. But the Federal Aviation Administration, taking no chances, announced last week that it would "significantly expand" its inspections of the company's assembly lines to ensure compliance with FAA rules.

With reporting by Joni H. Blackman/Seattle