In 1950, Empire Zinc employed 128 people in Hanover, of which 92 were members of the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers (IUMMSW), Local 890, 12 Anglos and 80 Hispanics.
Despite record high zinc prices accompanying the Korean War, Empire made no attempt to reopen the mine through the winter and spring.
As the strike went on inconclusively for months, the leadership of IUMMSW increasingly felt that it could not be won, and urged Clinton Jencks, its representative in Grant County, to convince the strikers to accept Empire's offer.
When Jencks and a majority of Local 890's membership refused to give up, IUMMSW's executive board voted to take control of the strike and negotiations.
[5] On June 7, 1951, Empire escalated its attack on the union, running a full-page ad in the Silver City Daily Press, announcing that it would reopen the mine because of the back-to-work petition.
Company officials had already met with County Sheriff Leslie Goforth and District Attorney Thomas Foy and obtained assurances that the road to the mine would be opened.
Some called for a general strike in the mining district, others pointed out that they would face huge fines if the injunction were ignored, but everyone agreed that giving up after eight months of deprivation would be too bitter of a pill to swallow.
Jencks and Bob Hollowwa, another IUMMSW representative brought in to help, argued that having the women of the Ladies Auxiliary take over the picket line could circumvent the injunction because it prohibited only "union members" from blocking the road.
Todd Ely, editor of the Daily Press, wrote: "Mexico, of course, is poverty stricken because its early settlers lost their identity in a mestizo melting pot that lowered the general level of culture to a point little above that of the swarming aborigines."
Even more publicity over this issue occurred when Maurice Travis, President of the IUMMSW, and Nathan Witt, its chief counsel, traveled to Silver City to attend a hearing on the extension of the injunction against blocking Empire's mine road.
Witt drew even more attention because he had been a prominent member of Franklin Roosevelt's administration, serving as Secretary of the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) from 1937 to 1940.
[5] With state police guarding the courtroom, District Judge Marshall levied fines of $4,000 on both the local and international unions, and sentenced members of the negotiating committee to 90 days in jail.
Marshall told them that he would suspend half the fines and all of the jail terms if the union would clear the road, but he didn't expect that to happen, so he immediately met with Grant County Bar Association President Charles Royall to draft a letter to Governor Mechem, asking him to impose martial law.
Local 890 organized a convoy of over 300 cars, escorted by the state police, to the Grant County Courthouse in Silver City, where a large crowd listened to union leaders call for a continuing struggle and denounce the request for martial law.
Local officials again appealed to Mechem to bring in the National Guard, but State Police Chief Joseph Roach and Captain John Bradford insisted that they could keep the peace.
"We were just hoping it would probably die a natural death; and, as a result, would lose a lot of its force as far as enhancing the position of the Communist Party or Jencks himself."
[5] Chief Roach and Captain Bradford of the NM State Police played an important role in Mechem's approach to the strike and the subsequent interpretation and execution of it.
When clashes occurred, Bradford would secretly meet with union leaders to reiterate that maintaining the status quo depended on the avoidance of violence.
[5] Governor Mechem's call for negotiations eventually brought New Jersey Zinc's vice president of employee relations to personally meet with the union.
Someone in the truck yelled at the advancing men to stop; the driver's son, Carlyon Hartless, pulled out .45 pistol and fired five times toward the strikers, the bullets hitting a few feet in front of the approaching crowd.
[5] Goforth immediately called Mechem and asked for help, but the Governor responded that he would wait for a report from Chief Roach of the state police.
Nevertheless, the scores of advertisements the Steelworkers Union ran in the Daily Press, contrasting "God, Truth, and Democracy" to the "godless, lying, and dictatorial IUMMSW, hurt Local 890.
[5] In mid-December, 1951, the culminating blow came when Governor Mechem ordered state police to assume complete control and enforce the injunction against blocking the roads into Empire Zinc's property.
In the Silver City Enterprise, a paper that had sympathized with the miners throughout the strike, the editor wrote: "We still condone and smirk at the use of power and wealth, both private and state, to crush...
Judge Marshall planned to fine IUMMSW $2,000 a day (Empire's claimed profit potential) going back to the original contempt judgement on July 23, 1951.
Nevertheless, Empire notified workers shortly after they returned to work that indoor plumbing, hot water, and baths would be provided to Hispanic housing.
In September 1952, Marshall handed down 90-day jail sentences for union leaders (Goforth held Jencks in solitary confinement) and fines totaling $38,000 for Local 890 and the IUMMSW.
Pablo Montoya was more sober, calling for a pilgrimage to a poor Hispanic village, where all of the strikers could "feel honorable with a clear heart and conscience.
"[5] The following year, the movie Salt of the Earth was filmed in Silver City, with American actor Will Geer and Mexican actress Rosaura Revueltas in leading roles.
Police harassment continued during filming, and the day after the filmmakers left town, Local 890's union hall burned in a fire of mysterious origin.