It's a really long article, so I've only swiped the first few pages here. The abridged version is this: the USPS that everybody is anxious to protect right now was founded in 1970 as the direct result of a radical action, a wildcat strike that spread through the National Association of Letter Carriers' rank and file, against the wishes of leadership.

The brave workers who risked their safety and livelihood to do this were largely black men and women who saw their union's protection as something that needed to be asserted actively, and were characterized by huge segments of the pundit class, liberal political interests, and the media as selfish agitators who were willing to disrupt the entire US economy for a pay raise.

https://www.apwu.org/sites/apwu/files/resource-files/update09-2007-031907-iretdoc.pdf

Monday, Mar. 30, 1970
THE STRIKE THAT STUNNED THE
COUNTRY

Nobody ever notices postmen somehow. Yet they have passions like other men, and even carry large bags where a
small corpse can be stowed quite easily.
—G.K. Chesterton

So invisible were the docile, dependable men in gray until last week that no one noticed that their passions were about to explode into a historic and ominous strike. The first national postal stoppage in U.S. history and the largest walkout ever against the Federal Government, the postal strike almost immediately began to strangle the operations
of commerce, impair Government functions and vastly inconvenience the public. It was also an acutely painful symptom of the fragility of the institutions that are crucial to the nation's orderly functioning. It could well set a new pattern of ruinous civil service strikes.

The wildcat movement erupted with such suddenness that Congress, the Administration and the leadership of seven postal unions were unable to move promptly or effectively to get the men back on their jobs. Union and Administration officials conferred in Washington at the end of last week, but the illegal strike, which started in New York City, quickly spread to surrounding areas and gradually began marching north to New England and westward across the country, hitting Akron, Buffalo, Chicago, Cleveland, Dearborn, St. Paul, Detroit, Denver and San
Francisco—and many smaller communities between. By week's end the strike had either shut down or curtailed service in more than 30 major cities, and was still spreading.

Postmaster General Winton Blount could only move to lessen the strike's effects, not to end the walkout. Mail destined for affected cities was embargoed, and began piling up by the ton. Mailboxes were ordered sealed. Jailing workers or union officials, a weapon allowed by statute, promised only a tauter confrontation. A court order barring
the strike was ignored by the rank and file, who courted contempt citations.

A late-week agreement between Labor Secretary George Shultz and a group of union leaders headed by James Rademacher, head of the National Association of Letter Carriers, promised a back-to-work movement in exchange for negotiations on a wage increase. Rademacher himself sent telegrams urging strikers to abide by the ageement. "Public wrath shall replace support" if workers stay out, he warned. "Reason must prevail." But the strikers hooted down their leaders. For them, money is the crucial issue. Embittered by what they consider their subsistence-level
pay ($6,176 to start, $8,442 after 21 years), they resisted—at least over the weekend—all attempts of the leadership
to impose discipline.

President's Statement

Postmaster General Blount at first seemed to rule out any attempt to coerce the unions or use the National Guard or the Army to move mail. Later, the Government's attitude hardened. At week's end President Nixon broke four days of silence to vow: "I will meet my constitutional obligations to see to it that the mails will go through." He did not
say how, but his statement, "We have means to deliver the mail," strongly hinted at a call-out of troops.

Themselves surprised by their newfound militancy, and having already risked their jobs and pensions by defying the federal antistrike laws, the postal workers were determined to justify the hazard by making the most of their action. "We're used to hard times," said one striker, and few of his fellow workers would disagree. Union meetings resounded with obscenities aimed at Rademacher, Richard Nixon and everyone else urging a truce.

Gustave Johnson, president of the letter carriers' Manhattan Branch 36, where it all started, asked for compliance without really expecting it. "For the first time these men are standing ten feet tall instead of groveling in the dust," he said.

"By this action, we have graduated from an organization to a union."
This feeling of union brotherhood became evident when postal local leaders from across the country met with Rademacher in Washington after the conference with Shultz. The local labor chiefs promised a nationwide strike unless Congress, the guardian of the postal system, committed itself to action on pay and other issues.

After just a few days of stoppage, and with parts of the system still operating, the effects of the shutdown appeared to be little short of devastating. The nation's postal system handles 270 million pieces of mail a day and moves everything from bank drafts to draft notices. Census questionnaires were scheduled to go out to every American
family this week. No Government agency or business—and few individuals —could escape the impact of the mail strike. Postal service, once taken for granted, suddenly affected everyone by its absence.

The disruption visited on the New York area provided a frightening blueprint of what the rest of the country could expect if the strike lasted. The New York Post Office handles 35 million pieces of mail daily, more than all of Belgium. Many of the country's largest corporations are headquartered in the city; most depend upon the mails for conducting their business. Paychecks destined for branch offices were frozen. The strike, which was 100% effective in halting deliveries in the city, prevented banks, insurance companies and Government offices from sending out bills or receiving payments. Consolidated Edison, which disburses and receives $3,000,000 a day, had no money
coming in, none going out.

On Wall Street, checks, stock certificates, bonds and the other financial papers that are the lifeblood of the world's busiest stock exchange failed to arrive, hampering business and forcing officials of the New York Stock Exchange to consider a market shutdown if the strike continued much longer. Mail-order houses and periodicals that depend
primarily on subscriptions were immediately damaged. The garment industry, which deals heavily in mail orders demanding immediate filling, was also disrupted.

The telephone and telegraph became ever more valuable, but telephone facilities in New York were already taxed to capacity before the strike started. How much extra strain they could absorb was uncertain. Department stores, some of which get 85% of their accounts receivable through the mail, were cut off from their major sources of cash.

______________________________

"Walleye, a lot of things are going to go wrong in your life that technically aren't your fault. Always remember that this doesn't make you any less of an idiot"

--Walleye's Dad