SeaLand was located in Port Elizabeth, in the dock area, surrounded by huge stacks of truck sized shipping containers. My first thought when I drove through the area was that people really worked for a living here. There were teamsters everywhere I looked. Dirty. Sweaty. Hard working. I had never been exposed to blue collar type workers having been raised in a very white collar family, having gone to an “almost ivy” college and having had only desk jobs. This was a new world.
The first order of business was to have my company physical. There was no drug testing in those days. They wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t be a drain on their health insurance plan, so a physical was mandatory. You could either pay for your own doctor to fill in the forms or go to their company doctor for free. I opted for free. I shouldn’t have… I was sent to what amounted to a shipping container with a door. Inside was a “waiting room” with 3 or 4 teamsters sitting around chatting. One of them stood up and put on a white doctor’s jacket. He ushered me into a small exam room and only closed the door part way. He asked me to loosen all my clothes. I refused to loosen my pants after seeing, through the cracked doorway, that his pals were watching intently. He told me I had to. I said “there’s nothing there that you need to check on”. He backed down. The exam finished quickly and I left with my signed paperwork. I suspect that no one there was a real doctor and that these teamsters must have “won” some prize for the chance to watch and play doctor.
My job started well enough. I got a desk - there were no cubicles - desk after desk were lined up in a row. There were about 6 desks in each row with a partial wall behind the desk where I was placed. It was dark and quiet (lonely). Since my desk was the last in the row, no one ever walked past my desk. The entire floor reeked of cigarette smoke as almost everyone lit up. SeaLand was part of the RJR Reynolds empire, makers of cigarettes. Instead of candy or pastries in conference room bowls, there were free cigarettes.
The first project that I worked on was to speak to the manager of another department, interview him to find out his technology requirements and to make a recommendation about which PC to allow him to purchase. I performed several of these kinds of projects before I understood that no matter what answers were given on the survey, we always recommended the same PC. My job, as it turned out, was to skew each questionnaire so that the company could provide the same, cookie-cutter solution to the end user. The job was boring, to say the least!
My manager, Larry, chain smoked. He had yellow teeth, yellow fingernails and a phlegm-y cough. He was friends with his manager and one of his direct reports, Lee. Lee, Larry and Larry’s manager used to spend time together outside of work. Way outside. They loved to go to New York City’s 42nd Street to watch peep shows and go to strip joints. Soon after starting to work at SeaLand, Larry began to come to my desk on Monday mornings to tell me of his adventures on 42nd Street. He would come back to my alcove of a desk, sit on the credenza and proceed to tell me about what they’d seen during the peep shows. In colorful detail. I told him that I wasn’t interested but that didn’t matter much. Every Monday like clockwork, he showed up at my desk to tell me stories. I couldn’t walk out because he gave me deadlines that had to be met and would write me up if I didn’t. He positioned himself between the doorway and my desk, effectively blocking me in. The few times that I did leave, his hand would “accidentally” brush my butt or my chest. He would call me into his office, close the door and the stories would continue. I couldn’t leave because he said he had a job assignment for me and to sit down.
After working at SeaLand for a year or so, I became pregnant with my first child. Shortly after I told him of the pregnancy, Larry arranged for us to visit a supplier in Florida together. He started to make comments to me about the “fun” we would have on this trip. I asked my doctor to write me a note that I could not travel any longer and so I didn’t have to make the trip.
As soon as I had the baby, the sexual harassment stopped. In its place, other behaviors started. He had another of his employees spy on me to ensure that I wasn’t late to work. With an eight week old baby at home and a nanny who needed to arrive before I could leave, there were occasions when I would be five minutes late. Every morning, one of my co-workers would stand up, peer over the cubicle wall, look at the clock and run into Larry’s office. Larry would use that as an excuse to come to my desk to “warn” me and the cycle would repeat.
As this behavior was escalating, I started to hear from other women at SeaLand that Larry was also violent. One woman who worked at the company had briefly dated Larry. When she broke up with him, her tires were slashed in the parking lot and she received threats at her both her home and work line. She ultimately quit her job and got a big dog to protect her at home. Several other women, petite brunettes all, told me similar stories of violence and fear of Larry.
My husband decided to start his own law practice in 1985 and I left SeaLand to help him get the business off the ground. When I gave notice, Larry called me into his office, shut the door and asked me if I was “going to do anything about” the harassment. I looked him in the eye, told him there was a two year statute of limitations and that I hadn’t made up my mind yet. Then I walked out. I hope he worried for those two years.
Why, you may ask, didn’t I sue him? Sue SeaLand? Sue the HR person who ignored my complaint (and called Larry to tell him what I’d said before I’d even returned to my desk!)? It would have been my word against his. I also didn’t want my husband to beat Larry to a pulp and end up in jail. A woman in the 80’s couldn't win without hard proof, something I didn't have. At that time, there was no such thing as a "hostile work environment". Other women were too afraid of him to come out publicly with their stories.
When Anita Hill testified in 1991 on Capitol Hill against the Supreme Court nomination of Clarence Thomas, it all came flooding back. She was crucified and he was confirmed any way. I would have been crucified and I wouldn’t have won. I was glued to the television as the Hill/Thomas hearings played out around the clock. I was talking to the tv screen (“you GO girl”!) and half expected it to talk back to me. She was totally believable. He was scum. Politicians then were mostly white and male. They chose to believe Clarence Thomas because they wanted too much to confirm an African American Justice. Good intentions. Bad choice of nominee.
I never heard from or about Larry again. I heard that Lee developed lung cancer and didn’t survive.
It was now summer 1985 and my next job was working with my husband in his fledgling law firm.
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