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Imagine it's December 1965 and you are piloting a small Cessna 180 prop plane high above the

vineyards of Delano, California. Beside you in the cramped cockpit sits your only passenger,

labor organizer Caesar Chavez. He scans the horizon, confused.

Anything below 600 feet and the FAA could suspend by license.

Then we'll go down to 600 feet. They really wouldn't take away a pilot's lessons from a

Catholic priest, would they? Most certainly would. Sacramento dioces will be up in arms when

you find out what I'm doing. A rebel priest involved with the union during a strike.

I'll be doing penance for this until I retire. Your bishop may not like it but you're doing

the Lord's work, Father. My answer to the almighty when it's my time. You though, you might

have to answer the police. As you approach the vineyard, you take the plane lower,

getting as close to the 600 foot floor as you can. The growers want to keep them away from

our big headlines on the main roads. They didn't come on us having a plane. Chavez opens a small

cardboard box on his lap, begins to flip through its contents, small red fires reading

Hwell got or strike and bold letters. The workers haven't gotten the message before.

They will now. We're approaching 600 feet. Whenever you're ready.

Chavez slides open his window, letting a gust of air blast through the plane's cannon.

With his right hand, he flings stacks of flyers out the window. With his left, he brings a

microphone to his mouth and addresses the workers below through a loudspeaker mounted to the underside

of the plane. You can see some of the laborers staring up at you and wonder. I'm not sure if this

tactic is really that effective, but you can tell that Chavez is loving it. He gestures enthusiastically

...