Article snippet: LORDSTOWN, Ohio — They stood outside in the dark, illuminated by barrel fires and the headlights of trucks lurching by, and they were angry. The Chevrolet Cruze plant behind them had been idle for six months and shed thousands of jobs. They were the laid-off, reassigned, and retired factory workers who had spent decades inside, fitting headlights and slipping windows into doors as compact sedans took shape on the assembly line. Some of the plant’s former employees had stayed here in Northeast Ohio, perhaps without a job or with a worse-paying one, while many of their neighbors moved away. They scattered, taking new assignments from Missouri to Michigan, leaving their families behind. Now, in mid-September, they were back. General Motors workers had just walked off the job around the country, striking in protest of tiered wages, eroded job security, and a prosperous company they felt was not sharing enough of its profits with employees who had made sacrifices to help keep it afloat during leaner times. Here in Lordstown, there were virtually no jobs left to walk away from. But the auto workers, past and present, came anyway, bringing the strike to the doorstep of a ghost plant in a last-ditch attempt to pressure the big company to reopen it and restore their way of life. “The American public — we’re all getting screwed,” Bob Meyer, a disabled retiree who worked for General Motors for more than 17 years, said as he settled into a camp chair on the first full night... Link to the full article to read more