I.L.G.W.U.

Although I never met the man, I see his legacy every time I walk by the prominent I.L.G.W.U. mural painted on the side of a building on East Broadway.

My father, as the president of the I.L.G.W.U., could insist that presidential spouses wear “Made in the U.S.A.” labels — and they’d listen.

Eugenia operated an embroidery machine in a Bronx dress factory, and George's only real union activity at the time was to walk with her on picket lines when her union, I.L.G.W.U.

������ followed while Sunday dinner waited must have been a busman's holiday because next day from Washington, on the eve of a meeting of the Committee for Industrial Organization, Sunday stroller Stark reported that I.L.G.W.U. would quit C.I.O. if it decided to call a convention to form a permanent organization.

A man who enjoys such simple proletarian pleasures is former Garment-Cutter David Dubinsky, president of I.L.G.W.U.