I wasn’t really in it for the corn, which smelled savory cooking near the parking lot of the United Auto Workers Local 1872 union hall Wednesday night.

As the manufacturing reporter, I figured I should go to the annual corn roast, despite the whole concept of unions seeming alien to me.
As far as I know, no living members of my family have ever joined one.

I’m pretty sure that “union” might have been a curse word in the house where my mom grew up. Her father didn’t much care for collective bargaining.

My dad’s father, on the other hand, belonged to United Steelworkers, having worked at Bethlehem Steel most of his life.
He died before I was old enough to get a job, let alone care about factories or organized labor.

Nonetheless, I like submerging myself into things I cover. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

First, I found Dick Boyd, who has been a community and labor leader for nearly 50 years, active with the York/Adams Central Labor Council.

He gave me a copy of his book, “The Bridge,” named after a bridge on the Codorus Creek where, as a child, he remembers listening to men talk about forming a union.

I’m looking forward to reading it.

Aside from Boyd, who worked at the now-closed Cole Steel plant in York, most of the people I met represented Harley-Davidson, from current workers to retirees who worked at the Springettsbury Township plant during the days of its ownership by American Machine and Foundry.

And boy, did they have stories – stories of pride, hope, fear and disappointment.

Mostly, they were stories about the “good old days.”

And I could have listened to them all night.