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San Francisco, 1971.

Thousands were marching in the streets
to demand an end to the Vietnam War.

Racial tensions were high
after the Hunter's Point riots.

And on January 19th,

two oil tankers collided
in the San Francisco Bay

spilling 800,000 gallons of
crude oil into the water.

Back then, there was no
plan for how to clean it up.

On one side, you had the oil
company who was responsible.

On the other, you had the hippies
who wanted to protect their beaches.

And in the middle
were the truckers.

This is the story of how that
oil spill changed my life

because I was
married to a trucker

named Charlie Walker.

Charlie only had one
truck to his name,

but he had plenty of hustle.

In the days leading
up to the oil spill,

the power center for all
trucking in the Bay Area

was a man named Chuck Sumner.

Maybe Chuck himself was
a racist. I don't know.

But his dispatchers
were another story.

Every day, Charlie would go down to
Chuck's worksites and try to get on a job,

and every day the same
thing would happen.

Howdy, foreman. Load her up.

- No.
- Why?

'Cause you ain't
got no work order.

You ain't got no
Chuck Sumner truck.

Hell, you probably don't
even have a Class B.

Besides, you're blocking
the goddamn line.

So if you don't haul this pile
of shit out of here right quick,

I'm gonna hook it up
and drag it off myself.

Maybe you'd think things
would be different,

this being San Francisco,
but you'd be wrong.

Money was tight,

and I was trying to do my
part in managing the numbers.

What the hell are you
doing? Put that jar away.

They don't be counting
pennies for food.

The market doesn't
care how you pay.

Well, the neighbors
do, and I'll be damned

if I have them passing the
basket around for us on Sundays.

What's your pocket
money gonna do for us?

Buy food, keep the lights on.

- And what about next week?
- Same pocket.

You should be laying
bricks with Willie.

They got steady work. He
called again last night.

Do you want to drive around
in that old rickety dump truck

burning gas, hoping,
I don't know,

Santa Claus is gonna
fill it with dirt?

I can't lay bricks no more.

You can't or you won't?

- I won't.
- Pooki, go play with your sisters.

You're gonna have to decide.

You gonna keep dreaming
about being your own boss

or lay bricks to
feed your family?

We lose this house in February
if you don't find work.

Listen, baby, if I
thought laying bricks

would make me a foreman
someday, I'd be first in line,

but there is no such thing

as a Black brick laying foreman.

Now, that truck is
the only thing we got.

Well, maybe come February we
should all live in the truck then.

I told you, I'm not
tearing my goddamn hands up

doing that brick laying
bullshit no more.

Buy some gloves.

Instead of buying gloves,
Charlie doubled down,

decided the only way
to get what he wanted

was to make even more
trouble for Chuck Sumner.

Thought maybe if he
made enough trouble,

eventually Chuck would have
to start paying attention.

We moved the drop-off to
Third and King Street.

Sure thing, boss.

All right. That's it.

Hey, get going,
Willie. It's on.

- That's right. Negro.

Not "hero." I said "Negro."

I got a Black Panther son of
a bitch blocking my trucks.

No, goddamn it.
There's a Black man!

Man on radio: He don't
have no sand loader,

but he says we can get
one over here for you.

You know what? I am one of those uppity
Negros looking to crash the party.

- Merry Christmas.
- Shit!

I'm gonna whip your ass, boy!

Ann: Charlie just
wanted a fair shake,

a chance to have
something of his own,

- to be his own boss.

It wasn't about race for him,

but for everyone else,
it was always about race.

Step out of the cab.

Charlie: What the hell?

You know, it is hard to
find good help these days?

I just dropped my
worker Willie off,

and I say, "Willie, make sure you
untie the banner from the truck."

And I'll be damned.

They say if you want something done
right, you gotta do it yourself.

- I'll take care of it.
- Don't you move.

Hey, man, that's not necessary.

I said I'll take
care of it. Be cool.

You don't take direction
very well, do you?

Now turn around and
face the vehicle.

Old cracker-ass cracker.

Charlie got 30 days, but
Chuck Sumner got tired

of having Charlie be
a thorn in his side,

gave him a contract,

put him in charge of
all the Black truckers.

Suddenly, on our side of
town, Charlie was the man.

And that's when it happened.

Charlie was driving home,

saw a line of trucks
heading to the beach

in the middle of the night.

Woman on radio: The
police are here.

There's trucks everywhere.

Ann: He didn't know
about the oil spill yet,

but he knew something was up.

Man on radio: We have a
report that a large ship hit

the Golden Gate Bridge just
after midnight tonight.

Ann: Decided he had to
follow those trucks.

Street's closed. You can't get
through. You gotta go left.

Those six trucks ahead are
mine. Charlie Walker Trucking.

I gotta stay with my trucks.

Yeah, and I'm the
chief of police.

Get out of the
line and turn left.

Ask the guy behind me.
Please, go ahead. Ask him.

Look, officer, you're holding them up
too. Those are Chuck Sumner trucks.

Behind those are
Mike Folgers trucks.

Behind those are the
damn National Guard.

Now are you gonna hold this
line up because I'm Black

or are you gonna keep
this train rolling?

All right, get out of here.

Woman on radio: Every truck and
loader within a 50-mile radius

is headed to the coastline.

Ann: Charlie
followed those trucks

all the way down to the beach.

And when he got there,
guess who he found.

Chuck Sumner himself.

What the hell's
going on here, Chuck?

You got half your trucks on
this beach, so what gives?

We're cleaning up the million some
odd barrels of crude washing up.

Hot damn! When did it happen?

Midnight. Broke
the ship in half.

So you got the call,
Folgers got the call,

but nobody bother to give
old Charlie Walker a shot?

Look, goddamn it, what
am I supposed to do,

call every bar in San Francisco

until I find the one that
you're getting drunk in?

If you want in, I
suggest you hop in

that new Cadillac of yours
and hightail your ass

up to the Long
Wharf in Richmond.

- Richmond?
- Every contractor around

is bidding for a piece of
this right now, except you.

Don't send me over there just to
get me off your ass now. I want in.

Look, my hands are tied
right now. Just... here.

- Go see Mike Marshall. He's the oil man in charge.
- Mike Marshall.

Oh, Charlie, you think
about pulling any shit

like that billboard
stunt in the Mission,

and they'll have your
ass in a sling for good.

This is Tower Oil. They're
already integrated.

All: Tower Oil
out! Tower Oil out!

Ann: By sunup, the hippies were
already out protesting the spill.

Charlie didn't have
to worry about them,

but he knew Tower Oil
wouldn't just let him in.

Just to get in line, he had to
use every trick in the book.

Yo, hold it up!
Hold it up! Stop.

Didn't you see the sign?

What's the matter,
boy? Can't you read?

- What's your name, officer?
- What did you say to me?

I said, "What's your fucking name,
off-ic-er?" Don't you speak English?

I don't think you understand
what's going on here, son.

See, this is private property.

Now you're gonna have to back this piece
of shit up and move it on out of here.

Look, damn it, I work for
Tower Oil in Los Angeles.

I'm the superintendent in charge of
contamination for the entire North Coast.

Yeah, well, this ain't
Los "Ang-geh-lees."

I don't need this shit. Give
me your name and badge number

so I can report
this to Marshall.

- Marshall?
- Name, badge number.

You know Mike Marshall?

Mike Marshall, white
dude, about yay tall,

bosses peckerwoods like
you around for a living.

- You gotta understand, um...
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- We don't get many, uh...
- Still ain't no excuse.

No. I'm sorry about this, sir.

Now what did you say
your name was again?

Man: Look, fellas, we're gonna
need every truck we can muster.

We got small areas,
but a lot of them.

Look about, boys,
I got me a beast.

Some of you are gonna
have to pair up,

but do not worry
about the money.

Every contractor's gonna get his
own purchase order with an open end.

Yeah!
- Now at the end of the day,

a Tower Oil rep is gonna
sign off on your invoices,

but we need some kind
of billing every day.

Now if there are any problems,
feel free to call me.

All right, Half Moon Bay.

Who can work the beach
at Half Moon Bay?

All right, you, you, and you.

Uh, San Mateo. Red, that's
your neck of the woods.

You take San Mateo and take
two other guys from this group.

Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle.

Why, that doesn't surprise
me. Now I see the resemblance.

You owe me a construction tower,
boy, and I'm gonna get it.

You and you, let's go work.

Stinson Beach, Marin County.

One way in, one way out.

We only need a small
crew, one or two trucks.

- Come on, anybody.
- Nah, no way. I ain't gonna do that.

Stinson Beach, guys.

Here. Right here.
I'll take it.

Come on, anybody!

You're gonna get a truck
in or out of there.

Why don't you integrate
and give a brother a job?

- Name?
- Charlie Walker.

Company name.

Oh, Charlie Walker Trucking.

This is gonna take three
trucks. You got that many?

- No, but I'll get them.
- Fine.

- You'll make it work.
- Yes, sir.

I work with Chuck Sumner Trucking
too. I'll get the rest form him.

With this blank purchase order,
you can get anything you need.

Now we're not concerned
about the money right now.

Just get that damn
oil off the beach,

you understand what
I'm saying to you, son?

Yes, sir.

Get the damn oil off
the beach. I got it.

Thank you, sir.

Is this the police?

No, this ain't the police!

Baby, you'll never guess
what just happened.

Charlie Walker, do you
know what time it is?

Of course I know
what time it is.

What time is it?

It's 6:00 in the damn morning.

Baby, baby, we gonna be rich.

We gonna pay off the house.
We gonna buy another truck.

I got another hour before I gotta
get the girls dressed for school,

and you're calling me
at 6 in the morning

after you've been
out all night again?

Bye!

Bye.

Now, the oil company
was hiring truckers

like Charlie to
take the oil away,

but who was gonna get
it off the beaches

and into the trucks
in the first place?

For that they decided
to work with the people

who were already out
there doing it for free,

the hippies.

But it wasn't exactly
a match made in heaven.

Sorry to interrupt
you, Mr. Bennett,

but I have the contract
reports you asked for.

Why don't you save me the read
and just give me the high points?

Do we have enough
boots on the ground?

- I think so.
- Wow, VP of Tower Oil San Francisco office

has just assured me
that he thinks so.

I mean, yes, we do.

We have every truck,
loader, and operator

in the Bay Area under contract.

So we're doing
everything we can.

You still haven't answered
my question, Walter.

It's the volunteers, sir.

As long as the volunteers
stay onboard, we can keep up.

This whole thing hinges on a
bunch of hippie war protestors?

- Volunteers, sir.
- Fine.

Then just keep
them volunteering.

Walter: That's
the tricky part.

Most of these people were protestors a
week ago, and we can't get near them.

They can't be protesting

and helping at the same time.

- Which is it?
- It's a mess, sir.

Walter, you know the
difference between a hippie

and a couple of corporate
assholes like you and me?

No, sir.

- Credit cards.
- Credit cards?

Yeah, a steady paycheck,

consumer debt, dental coverage,

paid sick leave, and
as many free pens

and pencils as they can steal.

You understand what I'm saying?

- Yes.
- Pay them.

Give them money.

I don't care if you have
to sneak up behind them

and stuff twenties
in their pockets.

Get them sucking on the teat.

I'll take care of it, sir.

And, Sharpe, money is no object.

Yes, sir. Understood.

Man on radio: At approximately
1:42 this morning,

two Tower Oil tankers collided just
east of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Ann: Stinson Beach,
where Charlie was headed,

is up north of the Golden Gate.

It was hard to get
to, and nobody thought

it was gonna be a big
job, but for Charlie,

it was an opportunity to show
the world what he could do.

Yes. Yes, sir. Mr. Sharpe
is working on that.

Yes, we're getting more
volunteers all the time.

Tell them we're gonna
need more hay bales.

I did. We have another
nine or ten on the way.

Yes, sir. They're working.

Um, all we have are
volunteers at the moment.

Hay bales don't soak up oil.

You're just making
a bigger mess.

- May I help you?
- Yes.

Can I get a cheeseburger on
white bread with extra mayo?

- And a vanilla shake?
- Excuse me.

We're a little busy right now.

If you wanna help,
the beach is that way.

You might want to get out of
those fancy clothes first.

I'm the contractor who's
gonna clean up that mess.

- You're the who?
- I'm Charlie Walker. Nice to meet you.

- You're Mr. Walker?
- One and only.

Ah, okay. Wait right here.

Let me let them know that
you're here. Wait right there.

Ann: You ever heard that
expression, "the winds of change"?

Well, that's what was
about to happen to Charlie.

Mother Nature decided to surprise
everybody and blow most of that oil

straight past
those other beaches

and all the way up to Stinson.

Tower Oil probably
would've replaced Charlie

with one of those
white truckers,

but he was one step ahead.

By the time they got there,

he'd already gotten himself
in front of the cameras.

I'm going to do
whatever it takes

to get every bit of oil
off this beautiful beach

and out of every
ravine and inlet.

In fact, this beach will
be in better condition

when I leave than
it's ever been before.

We consider ourselves
lucky to have someone

of Mr. Walker's experience
out here on such short notice.

- Now step aside. Move aside.
- We have little time to spare.

I need to get out there immediately
and survey what we're up against.

Right this way, Mr. Walker.
Nicely done in there.

Well, those people I can handle.

It's you all that concerns me.

- How's that?
- Well, see, there's a small matter of me being, um...

Black.

I hadn't noticed.

I like the way you do
things, Mr. Sharpe.

Let's hope I come to share those
same feelings for you, Mr. Walker.

Yeah, we initially thought this
area was going to be contained.

- But you were wrong.
- But we were wrong.

Winds do change. Bite
you in the ass sometimes.

Can we count on you, Charlie?

Well, it will have to
be taken out by hand.

Maybe we could take the tainted
materials and move it to a holding area.

- That might work.
- Might work.

I'll get you those trucks.
What else you gonna need?

A drink, a phone,

and I think I'll get old
Chuck Sumner on the phone

and see if I can get
some more trucks.

All right, let's get
you back to base camp.

To hell with the suit, Charlie!
We'll buy you a new one.

By the way, you're staying
at the Stinson Beach Motel.

We've rented the entire building
out for Tower employees.

So don't bother punching out and or
going home at the end of the night.

This is a full-time
job. You live here now.

- I'm gonna need two rooms.
- Money is no object.

You know, everybody
keeps saying that,

but I have yet to see any of it.

I'm beginning to think it
is no object after all.

Here's 25,000, petty cash.

It'll get you through
tonight and tomorrow.

- Thanks.
- You've met Dan Wallace.

He'll handle all our force accounts.
He'll take care of everything.

Money, personnel,
and everything.

Without the trucks, all we can do
is mix with the locals for now.

The cavalry's on the way,
Charlie. Don't let us down.

Came under heavy ground
fire in the Song Ve valley.

Charlie had been in the military
right when they were integrating,

so he understood that survival

wasn't just about
fighting the enemy.

Sometimes you had to keep
an eye on your friends too.

If the oil guys were smart,

Charlie would just have
to be even smarter.

And with all that oil coming in

and no plan for how to stop it,

he was gonna have to start
getting creative pretty fast.

And he was gonna need all the
friends on the ground he could get.

What's going on?

Woman: Some guys
beat up an oil man.

- Oil man?
- Yeah, some suit got beat up.

All right.

- What's going down, fellas?
- Looks like that dude was in a hatchet fight

and was the only one
without their hatchet.

Must've slipped and
fell real bad, ya dig?

Oh, I dig. But if any of
you try to rat pack me,

somebody's going to
the morgue, do you dig?

Got no beef with you, man.

Fuck that puppet and his
corporate puppet master.

He's one of my puppets.
So what can I do for you?

You have my full attention.
How can I help you?

- You can't be the boss.
- Why? 'Cause I'm Black?

Or because you can't find your own
asshole with a mirror and a long stick?

You're not the boss.

Fine. Follow me.

And bring your hippie
commune with you.

Why, hello, Mr. Walker.
I have a packet for you.

You've met Mr. Sharpe.
This is Mr. Bennett.

He's the president of
Tower Oil, and he came here

to meet you personally
to discuss your approach.

Welcome, Mr. Bennett.
Good to meet you, sir.

You too, Charlie. Now that we're
all pals, what's your plan?

Well, we have a three-mile stretch
of beach, all of which is infected.

We're using loaders to take off
the top layer, but it's slow going.

Honestly, we're just
moving shit around.

I mean, the tainted material.

Same problem at Ocean
Beach and Half Moon Bay.

We just got back from there
and it's a fucking mess.

We'll manage, but our biggest
threat is in the Bolinas Lagoon.

If the oil gets in there, we'll
be here for the next three years.

Now what are we
doing about that?

- Some locals are putting together an oil boom.
- Out of what?

Well, anything they
get their hands on.

They're using logs,
fishing nets, hay.

We build them in series,
so there's a gap.

Then we use local boats to drag it
to the beach. Then we haul it off.

- Is it working?
- Yes, sir. For now.

Nice work, Charlie. We're
gonna leave Dan here.

You're coming with
us to Candlestick.

Maybe you can share some of your
ideas with the other guys, huh?

Mr. Wallace, move most of the
equipment up north to the inlet.

They're gonna need some
relief with the boom work.

Yes, sir. I'm on it.

And who are these good folks?

Oh, they're heading up
the volunteer effort.

They're good kids.
Real go-getters.

Great. Well, we'll come back in a
couple days to get acquainted with them.

Let's get going, guys, huh?

Charlie had bought
himself a little time,

but he knew it
wouldn't be enough.

He needed to think fast,

so he did what he
always did best.

He improvised.

- Who's using those?
- Using what?

Skip loaders. The
paddle scrapers.

No one. They were in the way,
so we parked them out here.

- I want them.
- For what?

I just want them.

Can we get them on low-boys
and get 'em to my beach?

Sure, if you think you
can use them, you got it.

I'll take care of it. They'll be on
your beach before sundown tomorrow.

- I want them both.
- We're gonna take you over to Ocean Beach,

then out to the Farrallons,
and then we'll get you home.

Don't worry, Charlie.

We got a nice place down here.

Get some oysters and raw clams,

maybe on runny eggs.

Charlie, what kind of shit
are you pulling out here?

- What are you talking about?
- We're not building freeways.

This ain't no tar
and gravel job.

Why are you wasting my time
with these paddle scrapers?

I told Bennett it'd be cheaper to turn the whole
thing into a parking lot, and he bought it.

That's it. I'm leaving.

No, no. Wait, Chuck.
I'm just kidding.

Settle down.

Hey, Dan, you excuse us, please?

Sure. No problem.

Look, Chuck, if these oil guys
spend five million dollars

and it all goes
through our books,

we make 20% off the top.

That's over fifty an
hour for the equipment.

I figure between you and
me, profit and overhead,

we clear $375,000 each.

Hell, I'll take every skip
loader you got, running or not.

You're just gonna let them sit,

- but charge for them?
- Maybe.

Look, they're not making a penny
parked at Candlestick, am I right?

You got these suits running around
like idiots on one end of the beach

and these hippies on the other.

You are building a
monster here, Charlie.

- You better watch your ass.
- Money is no object.

Whoever told you that
is a liar or a thief.

Hey, I got a work order
like everybody else.

Oh, yeah, so now you're like
everybody else, huh, Charlie?

Well, congratulations.

Hey, what's that
supposed to mean?

That some kind of white thing?

Hey, I'm only kidding, man.

Come on, let me buy you a drink.

Hello, Mr. Walker.

I'm Agent Peaks.
This is Agent Banks.

We understand you're in
charge. Is that right?

You already know my name.

You're the white folks to
assume that I'm in charge.

- What'd I win?
- I'll make this brief.

We're here to put you on notice.

- Notice of what?
- It's all in the documents.

You've been officially served.

- What's this?
- No one works for free

in the state of California

unless they willingly
volunteer to aid

in a natural disaster
relief effort.

Those two ships
belong to Tower Oil.

Tower Oil is a corporation, and
therefore solely responsible

for compensating all workers
helping with the cleanup.

You have no volunteers. You have
employees and subcontractors.

Therefore, you must abide

by California's
employment and labor laws.

It's all in the packet.

Corporations don't
have volunteers.

Son of a bitch.

Most of these people were on the
beach before we even got here.

How are we supposed to
track them all down?

Well, therein lies the problem.

Have a good day, Mr. Walker.

We'll be back to check
on your progress.

What happens if we
can't find everyone?

If some of these
people don't get paid?

Then we shut you down.

Thanks. Have a nice day.

This is wild, man. We
have a Black president.

Yeah, man. President
of Stinson Beach.

How's it feel? The power, man?

Can I be honest with you?

I thought it would feel more...

I thought it would feel
more white, you know?

Like, if power were a color,

it would be white as snow.

You dig?

But I still feel as Black
as I did when I was a kid.

Huh.

That's wild, man.

I'm just fucking
with you, nature boy.

It doesn't feel like anything.

Hey, you all want jobs?

No way, man.

Not even for your
Black president?

- Do I look like a suit to you?
- No, you do not.

Then why you want to come
at me like I'm another suit?

I'm here to clean up your
home town. That's it.

When I'm done,
I'm gone. Period.

You get to keep your souls
and some serious bread.

I can trust you, right?

Because I know you can trust me.

Now I'm gonna put
$10,000 in your hand.

And I want you to pay anyone and
everyone who so much as kicked

a rock with oil on this
beach since day one.

I want you to tell them,
"Charlie Walker says thank you,

and he's paying
you for your help."

Now all they gotta
do is come down here,

sign a little piece of paper.

They hand you the
slip, you pay them.

You hand the slip
back to me. That's it.

Right on, man.

Cross my palm, kemosabe.

Now you said I could trust you.

Now I want you to
trust me for a second.

If you burn me,

you can trust I will
come back one day,

not tomorrow, not next week,

not next year,
but after all this

is nothing more than
a fading memory.

And then I'll remind you
that you broke our trust

by putting a bullet in your ass.

I like you, man.
We're straight.

- Hey, can I get a copy of those?
- Absolutely.

It'll be in the SF
Journal this afternoon.

You can read about
it in 3 1/2 hours.

Damn. News does travel fast.

You're the first foreman that
hasn't run me off their beach.

I'm Charlie Walker.
Welcome to my beach.

Come by any time.

Charlie was cool with the
press and the hippies.

Like I said, he
was one step ahead.

Sharpe: We need the
governor to step in.

The National Guard will
bring a level of control.

The moment this thing gets
outside, we lose control.

Sacramento is an
unpredictable town.

I understand the risks,
but we need their help.

It's only a matter of time
before he makes the call himself.

All right, call him.

Hello. Yes.

Walter Sharpe, vice president of
Tower Oil San Francisco office.

- The governor is expecting my call.
- Son of a bitch.

He did it.

- Hang up. Hang up!

Hello? Governor Reagan, sir.

Well, Ronnie, I wanted
to call you personally

to let you know that we have
everything under control.

- Last one inside has to fold the bags!
- Hey, that's not fair!

Everybody gets a bag to fold!
I'm not playing with y'all.

Landi, Dee Dee, Pooki,
come to Mommy's room now!

You run to Aunt Ruby's house and
you stay there until I come for you.

Don't tell anyone about
this money, you hear me?

You hide it under that
nasty old couch of hers,

and you tell her I
left for the store.

- Kids: Uh-huh. Yes, Mama.
- Now get!

- Hey, Charlie.
- Hey, baby.

We heard you're the
big man on the beach.

Maybe. Who are your friends?

This is Mae and this is Black.

Hm. They call you Black 'cause
you're the only sister in town?

Her real name's Coffi.

'Cause I'm hot, Black,
and full of sugar.

- So do you like to party, man?
- Does a hippie wear beads?

So what do they call you?

Around here most
people call me "sir."

Oh. All right, sir.

- So where's the party tonight, ladies?
- Where you staying?

Oh. It's that kind of party.

- You scared?
- I wouldn't say that,

but we're at a perfectly good bar
serving perfectly good drinks.

Why leave?

You got any coke?

You know, you can
call me Charlie.

You got any coke, Charlie?

- You got a score?
- Get your keys.

Well, all right.

Okay, so look, man,
you want two ounces?

I have maybe an
ounce and a 1/2 here.

If you can wait till tomorrow,
I'll have another two.

Just give me what you got and
keep your finger off the scale.

- Ooh.
- Oh.

Be cool.

I don't run that
kind of operation.

This is a non-profit, you dig?

So here's the money, my man.

Say, man, you mind if I
take a few of these with me?

You're not thinking about setting
up shop here in town, are you?

It ain't like that. I
know this is your zone.

I just need to spread some
powder around, that's all.

Sure, man, no big thing.

As long as you're not
selling, we're cool.

- Do you think I'm pretty?
- Cute as a damn button.

- But I gotta go.

- Mrs. Walker?
- That's me.

We have a warrant to
search your property.

- What took you so long?
- Step aside, please.

Ann: Is this what
you're looking for?

Now I know these are
sexy. But illegal?

I hardly think so.

Unless you are some kind of
really kinky-ass white boys.

I'm sorry we wasted your time.

Not smart.

I didn't know whose payroll
these white boys were on,

but one thing was for sure.

Someone was trying to
bring Charlie down.

Charlie, you in
there? Charlie!

Ah, man, what do you want?

Hey, the paddle scrapers
are doing their job.

Yeah, tell me something I don't
know. I put them there. Shit.

The TV news reporters are
here. They want to talk to you.

Why the hell didn't
you tell me, man?

- Who's been talking to them?
- Me.

Ain't this something.

You're on TV and I'm
there sawing logs.

Damn it, Dan, I told you I want to
talk to these people my damn self.

- You're supposed to come get me.
- I am getting you.

Next time you get
me sooner. Come on.

Woman: Of the many Bay
Area beach communities,

none of have been more
impacted by the Tower Oil spill

than the small town of
Stinson in Marin County.

Known for its white sandy
beaches and abundant wildlife,

this once peaceful sanctuary

has been transformed into
a disaster zone overnight.

A small group of volunteers

have rallied to save as
many birds as possible

while others begin
the monumental task

of clearing the oil
from the sand and rocks.

However, they fight
an unrelenting foe.

With every wave comes more and
more heavy crude onto the beach.

Until now, the only
method of cleanup

was to admit defeat and
wait for the oil to come.

The cleanup would
last for years.

But one man, Charlie Walker,

Tower Oil's
supervisor in charge,

has managed to turn the tides
with his unconventional methods.

Specialized heavy equipment used
to skim thin layers of roadway

now scoop up the oil before it
can make its way to the beach,

keeping this small team
of workers and volunteers

one step ahead of
the incoming threat.

We had a chance to speak with
Tower Oil's man in charge,

Mr. Charlie Walker,
about his success so far.

It's really
remarkable, Mr. Walker.

We were at Ocean
Beach yesterday,

and it's still completely
covered in black muck.

- What's you're secret?
- It's no secret.

I do things my way, and they're doing
things the best they can, I'm sure.

It's just a matter of time before
they get things under control.

And there you have
it, the man in charge.

Charlie Walker, staying ahead of the
power curve here at Stinson Beach.

I need to see you
alone for a minute.

Damn, baby. I miss you too.

No. There were some
men in our home.

Men? What men?

Daddy, can we go in the water?

Please, Daddy, we can
swim in our clothes.

No, honeybee, it's
polluted right now.

But you can eat all the ice
cream and hot dogs you want.

Wow. We're rich!

You know that boy is mocking us.

Now hold on. He is
making progress.

Look, I'm not up here to see
his people make progress.

To the whole damn world, we look like
we've got a Negro running this show.

I've got 2,500 men
working for me.

How do you expect me to
explain all this shit to 'em?

You tell them I'm
running the goddamn show,

and if you don't like it,

you can go to the
board of directors

and try out your piss on them.

If not, well, I
suggest you go back

to your people and remind them

that this situation
is temporary.

All right, gentlemen,
I thank you for coming.

You'll getting your daily progress
reports as usual, all right?

Now I suggest you get a drink and
enjoy this fabulous city, huh?

Yeah. Ride a streetcar.

Try the sourdough bread
and the clam chowder!

You...

You know, I can have him out of
there by morning. Just say the word.

No. No, no, no. We missed
our chance on that.

If we take him out now, the NAACP and
the papers will go national on us.

"Tower Oil chooses environmental disaster
over the magical Black superhero."

- No, it's a loser.
- What's our move?

We pay him a visit
like we planned,

take his temperature.

Hey, y'all stay
off that bed, now.

I gotta sleep there tonight.

What?

- You're not worried?
- Worried?

Why should I be worried?

Because the police
are putting drugs

in our home, Charlie.

I told you, those
aren't the police.

Does it matter?

- Hey.

I know you worry.

But it's okay now.

Minus me and the girls,

you're the only Black
folk around here.

Oh, they got a Black girl here.

Oh, really? You don't say.

Mm-hmm.

Hey, it ain't like that.

I'm just saying that these
people are open-minded.

They don't see color.

They just want their
town back, that's all.

All right. If you say.

Hey, now, don't do that.

I'm not doing anything I don't do
all the time. That's what I do.

I say my piece, you
speak your mind,

and then I smack my lips.

It don't matter anyway.

I got the contracts,
I got the truck,

and I got the money.

I got this.

Hey, this is still America,

and America is still the
same place it was yesterday.

- You talking crazy.
- Nothing changes overnight.

That's... that's... ain't nothing
change over the past week,

the last month,
the last 100 years.

You got some money, you think you
Mr. Big Stuff with all these hippies.

But to those oil men, you are 10 steps
away from being a runaway nigger.

I'm sorry, girls.

We don't use that
word in our home.

I'm sorry.

What's wrong?

You don't trust me?

That's never been the issue.

You're the one person I
do trust, Charlie Walker.

Charlie's instincts paid off.

The paddle scrapers turned
out to be the best way

to get oil off the beaches
that anybody had come up with.

Between the scrapers
and the hippies,

Charlie was getting
the oil under control.

But he still had to
manage the politics,

and the best way to do
that was an open bar.

Heh. You throw a hell
of a party, Charlie.

Oh, it's not my doing.
It's like this every night.

These some happy,
free-loving people.

Uh, free love, is
that what it is?

So, gentlemen, we
are looking good.

I've cross-checked
the expense reports

from the three other
large beaches in the area.

We're coming in less
than the average.

We're not only farther along,
but we're coming in cheaper.

Why don't we hold back on the
business talk tonight, huh, Dan?

Huh? It's been a long week.

Relax. Enjoy yourself.

- Recharge the batteries, sir.
- Mm.

So, Charlie, how'd you
know about the scrapers?

I didn't. I mean, not until
I saw it from the chopper.

Something just went
off in my brain.

It all made sense after
seeing it from the sky.

Well, it was a hell of a move.

Mm-hmm. Hell of
a move, Charlie.

Something tells me you're the
boys in charge around here.

What makes you say that?

Well, for starters,
you're not wearing beads,

this is the best
table in the place,

and you're drinking
$40 scotch whiskey.

- You got a good eye.
- I'm Peggy.

This is Mary. Can we sit?

Ah... oh, please. Please.

Charlie, do you mind getting
the ladies some drinks?

Hey, after all, this
is your affair, right?

What's your poison?

I'll have a vodka martini,
extra dirty, three olives.

And I'll take the same.

Charlie, thank you.
That'll be all.

Oh, this is, uh... this is nice.

Peggy: Thank you.

- Hey, boys.
- Hey, can I get two extra dirty vodka martinis, please?

- Did you hear that shit?
- Man, let it go.

Like a house nigger.

Stop it, Charlie.
Come on, relax.

Man, they just treated
me like the help.

Came too easy for them, too.

One minute I'm
rookie of the year,

next minute I'm folding
their sweaty jock straps.

"Have the colored
boy get some drinks."

Come on, relax. I'll
take the drinks over.

It's okay. I've been kissing
asses like theirs for 10 years.

Man, fuck that. And fuck them,
too. I'm outta here, man.

- Hey, Charlie.
- Ah!

So, now that we've gotten rid of the
support staff, what do you boys do?

- Well, uh...
- I'm a pilot.

- Really?

- I'm a tennis pro.
- Oh.

Well, actually
I'm an instructor.

They just call us
pros at the club.

Oh, where'd Charlie run off to?

Oh, we got a big day tomorrow

so he's calling
it an early night.

Oh, what a good idea.

Good night, Dan.

How exciting.

With jobs like that, what
do you do for excitement?

What do you have in mind?

Are you boys staying
in town tonight?

Uh, as a matter of fact, we are.

May I humbly propose,

perhaps we could escort
you attractive ladies

for the duration of your stay?

Such gentlemen.

A rare creature these days.

Getting rarer by the minute.

Oh.

- Do you want some?
- Yes.

Yes, I do.

Oh, you don't have to
apologize for anything.

Oh.

Oh!

Hey, Red, what
brings you out here?

- Paddle scrapers.
- Excuse me?

Look, Dan, I don't need a bunch
of horseshit from you today.

The scrapers are going
back with me, that's that.

- What?
- Hold on a minute.

Those belong to Chuck,
and we have a contract,

- so you can just turn your ass around and...
- All right, Dan.

We can do this the right
way or the wrong way.

How do you want to play it?

Sorry, Red, I don't understand.

We had a deal with Chuck.

Yeah?

Well, Chuck gave
your deal to me.

I'm paying Chuck
now. He's onboard.

Pardon me, Dan. Now, I
know you remember me.

If you need something on
this beach, you talk to me.

All right, then.

I need you to go get
those two paddle scrapers,

put 'em on these load boys, and
give me a holler when you're done.

I'll be here with the fellas, so
why don't you, uh, get to stepping?

Well, maybe you didn't hear
me right the first time.

I'm Charlie Walker.
This is my beach.

Those are my trucks,
and these are my people,

and you starting to
stink up the place.

So I suggest you
and your rugby team

find another beach to play on.

Take it easy, Charlie.

Dan, if you're not on my side,

now's a good time to step aside.

I'm with you, Charlie,
just let me handle this.

Dan, I said back off.

You see that boys?

Old Dan Wallace just
took one from the Negro.

That's right. Now who's next?

Dan, are you gonna get your
boy under control or not?

Sorry, Red. Charlie's the
boss. I listen to him.

Oh, son of a bitch.

Let's go, boys.

What has this world come to?

How much cash do we have?

We have about
30,000 in the safe.

I'll have another
50 tomorrow, though,

for local rents and payroll.

I'm gonna need it. All of it.

And I need you to get Sharpe on
the line for another fifty today.

Hey, don't worry, Charlie.

I'll take care of
Red and Sharpe.

Mr. Wallace!

Call for you. It's
Walter Sharpe.

I'll talk to Sharpe myself.

You just get those
men back on the beach.

Okay.

We got another month here.

Look, I'm just now getting
ahead of this thing.

Are you sure? You seemed to
be on the back end already.

I was putting on a
show for Mr. Bennett.

We barely hanging on, like
everybody else. We need more cash.

I got payroll, trucks, hippies.

I show you took in
50,000 two days ago.

How are you burning
so much cash?

Locals, politicians, Sacramento.

I got hippies and hillbillies
crawling up my ass,

not to mention an
ocean full of your shit

pushing me back at every turn.

I'll get you another 50.

Have Dan write up some tickets,

invoices, anything to cover it.

And keep it coming, or this
whole thing falls apart.

Far as I know, we the only beach
that doesn't have any problems,

and I'd like to
keep it that way.

By the way, hope you boys
enjoyed your weekend.

- Sorry I had to cut out.
- Hello, miss.

- I'm here to see Charlie Walker.
- That's him. Oh, what?

- Hi, sorry. I have Mr. Sharpe now.
- What can I do for you?

Question is, what can I do
for you? I'm Charlie Walker.

Oh, you're Charlie Walker.

- Over the phone, you didn't sound so...
- Tall? I know.

- I get that a lot.
- Hold on one sec. Um... hold on.

Charlie, I still
need to talk to you.

In a minute. I'll
be right back.

So, you build roads?

Yep, if it's a
car in California,

it's rolling on one of ours.

Well, we got a lot of oily sand,

if you catch my drift.

We got a deal?

Who was that?

His family built every
freeway, highway,

and frontage road
from here to Oregon.

What does he want?

He wants what we can't
seem to get rid of.

He's buying the
dirty sand from me.

You're gonna sell him the
contaminated material.

You say that like
it's a bad thing.

Hell, that's not
contaminated material,

that's the champagne
of road construction.

And I have enough of it to
get him from here to Alaska.

What about Tower Oil?

It is still technically theirs.

You think Tower Oil gives a rat's
ass what I do with all that shit?

Read the papers. It's
pollution, toxic waste.

The oil is theirs, but the
sand belongs to no one.

Be careful, Charlie.

They always balance their books.

Tower Oil always
balances their books.

I dig, but this isn't even on
the radar, let alone the books.

- Yeah. Yeah, I know.
- Charlie, Charlie.

- Dan, what the hell are you doing?
- The kid on the beach.

- What kid?
- He got run over. He got run over.

They were playing on the beach.

Come on.

Which one of you men was
assigned to that machine?

Willie, who was on that loader?

- Not me.
- It's mine.

Well, where were you when
all this shit was going down?

I was taking a leak. I wasn't
gone more than half a minute.

It takes me a full minute just to get
my zipper down and my johnson out.

You telling me you left that thing
running with all these civilians around?

We do it every day. Well, you've
been on the job site before.

You can't just shut these things
on and off like a sports car.

- You're fired.
- You can't do that.

Since when is it not okay for
a boss to fire a subordinate?

- Chuck is my boss.
- Well, tell him,

"Charlie Walker
fired my dumb ass

'cause I left my rig
running long enough

to run over the top
of some civilian."

This is bullshit. The boys at Tower
were right about letting you in.

You just used up 20 seconds.

Ten, nine, eight, seven...

All right, everybody.
The boy's okay.

Everybody just go back to
doing what they were doing.

Did you find his folks?

Yes, uh, they're gonna
follow the ambulance.

- How'd they take it?
- Five grand for now,

maybe 10 by the time
they get to the hospital.

How do you want me to bill this?

Like everything else.

Add it to the volunteers.

See if 10 grand helps him
explain to the hospital

how he fell off one
of those skateboards.

Got it.

Hey, if this never
leaves the beach,

we'll all be better off.

- Agreed.
- I'll catch you later.

Hey, I need to talk
to you for a minute.

Walter Sharpe came by. Took
all the books, everything.

- When?
- Two hours ago, after you left.

I called over to Ocean
Beach and Half Moon Bay,

and none of their books
have been touched.

That's no problem.

He's probably just
starting with us.

There's one more thing.

I heard him on the
phone talking about you.

How do you know he
was talking about me?

I don't want to say.

That n-word.

- Oh.
- Okay? He was really mad.

I don't think he knew
I was in the bathroom.

How do you know he
was talking about me?

Are you...

I'm kidding. Hey, Fran, look.

I appreciate you telling
me this. I really do.

But don't you worry
yourself, okay?

Everything's gonna be just fine.

I don't... you're not
gonna get fired, are you?

Fran, I've never been fired
from a job in my life.

Say, man, why the hell
ain't you on the beach?

- It's 9 AM.
- Charlie, they let me go.

- Who let me go?
- That man in there.

Wait here. Don't leave.

Say, Walter, why'd you let
that man go? He works for me.

And you work for me, and
that makes him my problem.

What's the problem?

First of all, sit down.
Stop yelling at me.

I mean, unless that is you've already
forgotten the chain of command here.

This about that damn redneck?

Or that knucklehead
I had to fire?

Did you know Mr. Willie Jones

doesn't even carry a
valid Class B license?

In fact, he just admitted to us

he never even had
a Class B license.

We could be fined, shut down.

He's been driving for
me almost two years.

He can run circles around
any of those good old boys.

Two agents from the
Labor Department,

they visited our corporate
headquarters yesterday.

You know, they found over
60 unpaid volunteers.

Now, hold on, those
boys aren't even legit.

Somebody's trying to
muscle in on this job.

Since when do a couple
Sacramento pencil-pushers

carry pearl-handled six
shooters in their sock?

Those boys are
private contractors.

Is it true a child was
injured by one of your crew

and sent to the hospital
without a report?

That's the son of a
bitch I fired, damn it.

- I took care of him.
- Tower Oil can be sued.

Oh, and in public, I
mean, in the newspapers...

I mean, do you have any
idea what I'm saying?

You're trying to squeeze me out.

I'll put in a good
word for you, Charlie.

No, I like you.

But I can't promise
anything at this point.

You made your bed.

Thanks for looking
out for me, Walter.

I won't forget the favor.

Charlie knew he'd taken
things as far as he could.

It was only a matter of time

before Tower Oil pushed him out.

Charlie, did you straighten
things out for me?

Yeah, we're square.
Everything's cool.

Great. So, I can get
back up on my scraper?

No, Willie, go home.

Spend some time with the boys.

Take the wife out
to a nice dinner.

Hello?

We miss you.

Is the house locked up?

We're fine.

I'll be home tomorrow.

- How long can you stay?
- I'll be home for good.

Did you finish the job already?

I thought this was going
to last for months.

No, baby, it's a
short-term thing.

I got paid, now it's
time to pack up.

- Are you happy?
- I'll be happy tomorrow.

You sound different. Is
everything all right?

Yeah. You know what?
Everything's fine, baby.

Everything's fine.
Remember, we rich.

- I can't wait to see you.
- Me too.

Bye.

Real pretty out
here in the morning.

Only time I don't
mind being alone.

You know what I mean?

I knocked on your door for
15 minutes this morning.

TV must've been on.

Must've been.

You come out here to take
credit for my work, Chuck?

- It's not like that, Charlie.
- Come on.

I knew you couldn't sit back
and let a nigger show you up.

That's your word, not mine.

You right.

That's why I always
liked you, Chuck.

You're not like the
rest of those boys.

You put your shit out
front for everybody to see.

Them other boys'll lie
right to your face.

You know, my beach would
look like this right now

if it weren't for
those goddamn rocks.

You got lucky, Charlie.

Paddle scrapers don't work at
Ocean Beach. You got lucky.

Thank you, Chuck.

Nothing like a little dumb luck

to make up for
gross incompetence.

That's not what I
mean and you know it.

I'm just saying that
the paddle scrapers

don't work anywhere
else but here.

We're still mopping shit
up by hand in the city,

polishing rocks one
at a goddamn time.

Just unlucky, I guess.

It's over.

I know.

You'll get paid for your
truck up until today.

I don't need it anymore.

Well, me either.

You're just too flashy, Charlie.

You know, TV cameras and
making nice with the locals,

getting in the newspapers,
that's not what we do.

We get in, we get dirty,
and we get out, period.

You'd make a better mayor.

So y'all gonna take
credit for all my work.

What about the 20% off the top?

You know, you can
keep your credit.

I'm only gonna be here long
enough to load up the tents,

pack up the station wagon.

Oh, and you can take your news crew
with you, too. I can't use 'em.

Maybe I will become mayor,
make your life a living hell.

You'll have to pay
me off, you know?

Shock me.

Made you boys look
pretty stupid, huh?

The safe is empty. You
know anything about that?

My car's missing.

You think your boys saw
anything suspicious?

Maybe we both got
robbed last night.

Maybe.

There's no sign outside. It's
in the middle of the block.

Tower Oil Headquarters.

Say, my man, ain't you the cat

that spilled all
that oil in the bay?

- What?
- Yeah, I've seen you on TV.

You fucked up everything.

Nah, man, I'm the
guy who cleaned it.

You bet your ass you should
be cleaning that mess up.

- What you talking about, old man?
- It ain't right,

- we gotta be paying for that foul-up for decades.
- Oil company's paying.

You been on a boat
too long, son.

It's messed up your thinking.

You think gasoline is gonna stay
at 36 cents a gallon forever?

I told you, old man, I
wasn't on a damn boat.

Pull over here behind this
truck. I want you to wait for me.

Here you go, Tom Jefferson,

license number 652256.

Leave the meter running.

You drive around the
block if you have to,

but I want you right
here when I get back.

- Hold it right there.

Fuck.

I catch either one of you
motherfuckers in my home again,

I'll kill you without a sound.

Sir, you can't go in there.

Watch me.

- 18th floor.

- 18th floor, now.
- Charlie!

- You surprised me.
- That was my intention.

I don't get a lot of visitors
up here. Please, sit down.

I'll make this brief.

I think that's probably best.

- $375,000.
- Come again?

You owe me $375,000 for my trucks
and my pay. That's up to today.

Is that what you're here for?
To go over your invoices?

You'll get paid
like everyone else.

375,000.

If my information is correct,

that's almost
exactly to the dollar

the amount of the moneys unaccounted
for on your balance sheet.

Oh, my goodness. Almost
$400,000, Charlie.

That's a... that's a lot of
money to be unaccounted for.

It's already accounted
for. That's why I'm here.

We're even. It's over.

I walk away and
you don't get up.

- Deal?

We're at an impasse.

That's not how we do
business here at Tower Oil.

You can't be paid until
the books are balanced.

I don't want you to pay
me. I'm already paid.

And why would you go and
say something like that?

Because you and I both know
the fix was in from the start.

You sent those boys to
my home and to my beach.

I figured your shit
out on the second day.

You might want to
read over that again.

You only work for us when
we say you work for us.

That doesn't include entertaining
the local civic leaders,

television appearances,
cocaine parties.

You really wanna go there?

You're stealing
from us, Charlie.

You get away with that,
you'd be the first.

See, that's my thing.

Going where no Black man
has ever gone before.

That's a lot of money.

Money is no object.

Oh, shit, Charlie. That
wasn't meant literally.

When I told you I'd clean up that
beach, it wasn't metaphorical.

You bought yourself
a convertible.

You signed fraudulent invoices.

You had unlicensed contractors.

You paid off an injured minor's
family, for Christ's sake.

Come on, Charlie,
you can't be serious.

I bought that car
with my own money

I made on the side from Santini,

and that kid would've been a
lawsuit 10 times what I paid him.

We don't use words like
"on the side" here.

It's colorful language,
but we just don't use it.

Colorful?

Look at you in your suit.

You actually think you could run
this company if given a chance.

You fascinate me, Charlie.

It's like you're the
only one in the room

who doesn't know you're Black.

It's my job to think
outside of the box.

It's my job to smooth
over the locals.

And most of all, it's my job

to spend Tower Oil's
money how I see fit,

from payroll to toilet paper.

I guess you're right.

I never thought
about it like that.

I admit, 300 years
of forced servitude

and another hundred
years of nonsense

tends to slip my mind
every once in a while.

Now and again, I'm reminded the only reason
a guy like you is here on the 18th floor

and I'm out of a job again
is because you're privileged.

It's not because I'm Black,
but more because you're white.

People like you
inherit your lives,

your wealth, your good fortune.

You grew up knowing
your only job

is not to fuck up what
generations before you had.

Are you okay, Mr. Bennett?

Oh, yes, I feel very protected.

Charlie was just leaving.

Hmm. Now, that's pretty.

Smells like, I don't know.

Smells a little
like... freedom.

See, until we get this whole
entitlement shit worked out,

a Black man will never
trust a white man

any more than a white man
can trust a Black man.

- It's balance of powers.
- You sent her.

Well, actually, my
associate Jerry sent her.

- I just picked her out.
- You think you got me.

Oh, I do got you.

The second that work order touched my
Black hand at Long Wharf, I had you.

Which is probably a half a day's
head start over you and your boys

starting that little file on me.

But, hey, we call it a tie.

- Slow down.

You know, there was this old
dude in the projects. Doc.

Everybody called him Doc 'cause he
was always dispensing advice and shit,

like a psychologist.

Something he always said to me
keeps running through my head.

He says to me, "Charlie, how
many rednecks does it take

to push a pregnant Black woman
down a flight of stairs?"

I say, "I don't know."

Mainly 'cause I was shocked at the
thought of something so repulsive.

He says to me,
"None. She slipped."

She slipped.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Mr. Walker, your
employment with Tower Oil

is hereby terminated.

Let him go.

A guy like that,

give him enough rope,
he'll hang himself.

Get outta here.

Go!

Son of a...

Ann: Who is it?

Mrs. Walker, your
husband asked me

to drop some things off...
Some clothes, I think.

Go away.

You've got no right
to come in my house.

I'll shoot you
through this door.

I'll just leave
everything out here, okay?

I can tell, they didn't
give you the job, huh?

I wasn't looking for no job.

I went to the top of that building
and I told the president of Tower Oil

to stuff his head
up his own ass.

You can't expect a
man to give you a job

after you tell him to stick
his head up his own ass.

Why don't you do
your job and drive?

Tell me, what did he say
when you told that white man

to put his head up his own ass?

He reminded me that I was Black.

Now, see, I could've told you
that and saved you a trip.

You're Black. Hell,
I'm Black, too.

I know what I am, damn it.

He said I thought
I wasn't Black.

Just do your job and drive.

Ann: Maybe Charlie
broke some of the rules.

But for people like him,
you had to break the rules

just to get a fair shake.

Take me back to Hunter's Point.

Real Charlie Walker: If you
think I stole that money,

you ain't never been Black.

They were gonna
pay Chuck $375,000

and they wanted to
pay me like a trucker.

I paid myself the same
because I was the boss.

Man: Charlie, tell me, really,
what did you do with the money?

Well, white people want to know,

"What'd you do
with the money?"

I took care of my family.

I sent my daughters to college.

I took care of my
mother and my wife,

and I had a nice house.

That's what I did
with the money.

People say money
won't make you happy,

but it sure made me happy.

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