4/20 Holding Space for Ludlow
April 20th means many things to many people. For some, it's a lighthearted cultural moment—popularly associated with cannabis and a celebration of personal freedom. For others, it's a date shadowed by infamy, given its association with Adolf Hitler’s birthday. But for those of us who care deeply about labor rights, working-class dignity, and the long, hard struggle for justice, April 20th holds another, often overlooked, significance: the anniversary of the Ludlow Massacre.
In 1914, near the coalfields of southern Colorado, striking miners—many of them immigrants—were living in a tent colony after being evicted from company housing. These workers, part of the United Mine Workers of America, were fighting not for luxuries, but for the basics: fair pay, safer conditions, and the right to organize. What they received instead was violence.
On April 20, soldiers from the Colorado National Guard and armed private guards, working for the Rockefeller-owned Colorado Fuel & Iron Company, opened fire on the camp and set it ablaze. Among the 21 dead were women and children, some of whom suffocated while hiding in underground cellars. The Ludlow Massacre wasn’t just a tragic event—it was a brutal reminder of how far those in power were willing to go to silence the working class.
The reason working class people should remember Ludlow isn’t to overshadow other April 20th traditions. People observe the day in different ways, and there’s space for joy and celebration. But on days of significance, we should acknowledge the sacrifices of those who gave their lives for worker rights.
And just like the Ludlow Massacre transcended borders then, the threats to workers in all countries must transcend our borders today.
Ludlow is a cautionary tale that still speaks to us today. Though the era of coal barons and private militias may seem like the distant past, the power dynamics they represent are still alive. Workers around the world continue to face unsafe conditions, wage theft, union busting, and retaliatory firings. In some countries, trying to organize a union can still get you killed. Even in places where labour protections exist on paper, corporate interests often wield enough influence to weaken or evade them.
Today’s labour struggles—whether in warehouses, classrooms, coffee shops, or delivery vans—may look different, but they come from the same place: a desire for dignity, fairness, and a voice. Remembering Ludlow helps us understand that the battle for workers' rights has always required courage, and that every gain has been hard-won.
To reflect on the Ludlow Massacre is not to dwell on the negative, but to honour resilience. It’s about paying tribute to the families who stood up to immense power, and to the labour movements that rose in the aftermath. It’s about understanding how history informs our present and why solidarity still matters.
So every April 20th, however you choose to spend the day—whether you’re gathering with friends, attending a rally, or just enjoying some peace—consider taking a moment for Ludlow. Read about it. Talk about it. Light a candle, post a thought, or simply hold the memory in mind. It’s not about guilt or obligation. It’s about keeping the legacy alive, because it still has something to teach us.
History isn’t something behind us. It’s what we’re standing on. And when we remember Ludlow, we honour not just a past tragedy, but a continuing struggle—and the people who never stopped fighting.