Against the Odds: Laramie Cement Workers Unionize in Deep-Red Wyoming

In a state where unions are about as common as surfboards, a group of Laramie cement plant workers just pulled off something big, Casper Star Tribune reports.

On Wednesday, nearly 80 employees at the Mountain Cement Company voted to unionize, joining the International Brotherhood of Boilermakers after years of hesitation. The tally was close — 40 in favor, 26 against — but enough to mark a turning point in Wyoming, where only 5.6% of workers are union members, well below the national average.

For workers, the decision came after years of frustration: unpredictable schedules, constant turnover, safety worries, and what they describe as heavy-handed management.

“Just to talk about it makes me teary eyed,” said Alex Hicks, a maintenance mechanic and welder. “I was threatened with my job, so now that this is here, it feels like a big weight off my shoulders. I don’t have to worry every day about whether this is going to be my last shift.”

The plant, which has been part of Laramie’s blue-collar backbone for nearly a century, hasn’t always been this way, workers say. But over the past decade, management’s approach became more corporate and less personal, according to Robert Hodges, a former electrician who was fired this summer. He believes his role in organizing cost him his job and has taken his case to the National Labor Relations Board.

“The younger guys come in, get treated like garbage, and don’t last more than a year or two,” Hodges said. “Ask around town — everybody knows someone who’s been fired from that place.”

Cement work isn’t for the faint of heart — the job involves high heat, heavy equipment, dust, and nonstop maintenance. Safety, workers say, often takes a back seat to production deadlines. Hodges said problems are ignored until something breaks, often forcing crews to come in on weekends or late nights.

“Seems like it’s always 2 a.m. on a Saturday,” he quipped.

Despite growing up in an anti-union family, Hodges said conditions pushed him and others to finally push back. A younger generation of workers, less bound by old anti-union attitudes, also helped tip the scales.

Union organizers weren’t sure they’d win in a state where “right-to-work” is practically a badge of honor. Marcie Kindred, executive director of the Wyoming AFL-CIO, said she was anxious right up until the ballots were counted.

“This means so much to Wyoming workers who feel voiceless, like there’s nowhere to turn,” Kindred said. “We’re the reddest right-to-work state in the nation, and they just proved that, even in Wyoming, you can fight and freaking win.”

After the vote, the mood on the floor was jubilant. Hicks said his phone buzzed with a message from a co-worker:

“I’ve never been ready to go into work at MCC except for tomorrow.”

Hicks said it felt like a family celebration:

“Hugs, high fives, handshakes, big smiles everywhere. It was awesome — like the birth of a child. The whole family was just excited it happened.”