Californians compete for a rare prize: a blue-collar union job paying up to $200,000 Part-time casual longshoremen outside the International Longshore and Warehouse Union Casual Longshore Dispatch Hall in Wilmington, where some lucky workers will nab a shift. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times) 
 
 If Cynthia Byington wins her version of the lottery, she will probably have to wait a decade to claim her prize. But Byington doesn’t mind, because the reward is a shot at one of the rarest lifelines left for working-class Americans: a unionized blue-collar job. 
 
 In February, for the first time in over a decade, the International Longshore and Warehouse Union will raffle off thousands of part-time gigs working at Los Angeles-area ports. The slots don’t come with benefits or steady hours. But eventually, after putting in years at the docks, some of those part-timers may earn the chance to become unionized longshoremen, who can make as much as $200,000 per year. 
 
 “You get full benefits your entire life. Even if it’s not ‘til I turn 90, it’s worth it,” Byington, 53, said. 
 
 You get full benefits your entire life. Even if it’s not ‘til I turn 90, it’s worth it. — Cynthia Byington 
 
 92430124 Casual longshoremen who showed up for shifts earned less than $31,000 on average in 2016. Full-time union members get paid $161,000 on average. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times) 
 
 The 2,400 names drawn in the raffle will become “casual” longshoremen. 
 
 Although they perform the same work as union members — loading thousands of containers on and off massive cargo ships to keep the ports running on time — they work far fewer hours. And the wait to receive full union benefits can stretch over a decade. 
 
 The average casual worker who showed up for weekly shifts earned nearly $31,000 in 2016, according to data from the Pacific Maritime Assn., which represents the shipping companies and terminal operators that employ the dockworkers. Full-time union members get paid $161,000 on average, but those with seniority can earn tens of thousands more. 
 
 A worker shows a ticket with her assignment for the day. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times) 
 
 A part-time worker waits near the gate at the dispatch hall. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times) 
 
 Today, there are part-timers who have been waiting 13 years to get into the union. But the PMA said that for now, there are no firm plans to elevate any of them. 
 
 Hundreds of thousands are expected to have applied for the new casual slots, the PMA said. Scores of Southern Californians rushed to post offices and postal stores across the South Bay in January, buying up the 4x6-inch blank cards required to enter the raffle. 
 
 At the Postal Annex, a tiny storefront about five miles from the ports in San Pedro, owner Patrick Meehan could barely take a breath without getting a phone call about the lottery. He said hundreds of people streamed into his store in the three days before the deadline hit in late January. 
 
 The massive interest in the longshoremen’s lottery is a sign of just how desperate Americans are to gain even the most tenuous ground toward a stable, high-paying career working with their hands. 
 
 “It says a lot about the state of our current labor market,” said Ken Jacobs, chairman of the UC Berkeley Labor Center. “There are a dwindling number of blue-collar union jobs where people with just a high school education can make a good living.” 
 
 Fewer than 14% of workers in manufacturing, construction and trucking belonged to a union in 2015, down from nearly 40% in 1973, according to a database of Census data compiled by economists from Trinity University and Georgia State University. 
 
 That’s what propelled Byington to put her name in the running. 
 
 “It’s once in a lifetime,” said Byington, who lives in a mobile home in Wilmington. She has seen longshoremen and women buy houses and put their kids through college on their union-won paychecks. Another friend recently got a full set of teeth implants, thanks to union-provided dental care. 
 
 Workers line up on the street to find out if they'll get a shift at the ports. This ritual is repeated every morning for casual longshoremen and women. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times) 
 
 “If you say someone is a longshoreman, it means respect, even if they are a little spoiled,” Byington said. 
 
 Earning that title, and the respect that comes with it, takes longer than ever. 
 
 In the 1990s, longshoremen would spend three to five years freelancing before they got elevated onto the rolls of the ILWU, according to interviews with more than a dozen current and former casual workers. But then the recession hit, trade faltered, and the PMA temporarily stopped hiring union members. 
 
 The ports are using more automated machines, which is part of the reason the union workforce hasn’t grown much. In 2016, the Port of Los Angeles processed 17% more container traffic than in 2005, but the number of full-time union longshoremen had increased by only 3.5% over that period. 
 
 Longshoremen also say employers have been relying more and more on part-timers. 
 
 “The PMA, terminal employers and ILWU work together to maintain a balanced approach on the number of registered workers needed at the ports,” said Wade Gates, a spokesman for the PMA. 
 
 Craig Merrilees, a spokesman for the union, said the union has traditionally pushed to get more full-time positions, but the dockworkers’ bosses are reluctant. The last time the PMA added full-time union members to the payroll was in 2012. 
 
 “Generally speaking, the employers would like to see more casual workers earning a little less pay,” Merrilees said. 
 
 Mario Huerta says he has been working part time for 10 years at the docks, desperately trying to amass enough experience to become a union longshoreman. 
 
 Huerta and other casuals show up around 6 a.m. at a dingy dispatch hall and wait to hear if their number gets called for one of three shifts at the port. If they don’t get called up in the morning, they can return around 4 in the afternoon for the next round of work opportunities. 
 
 On good weeks, a part-timer will manage to nab two to three eight-hour shifts, casuals said. 
 
 Part-timers gather near the dispatch hall early in the morning. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times) 
 
 After driving 60 miles to Wilmington from his home in Riverside on a recent Friday, Huerta was assigned a shift that would likely involve securing containers to a ship deck. 
 
 “Sometimes I get work two or three days a week. Sometimes it's only one day a week,” Huerta said, standing in the rain just outside the building where casuals go to get dispatched. He has no idea when the unsteady work will turn into something long-term. 
 
 “How close am I to being elevated? Nobody seems to know,” he said. “At least today I have work.” 
 
 Several others who failed to get work that day said they felt as if they’re being kept out of the union for as long as possible so that the shipping companies can avoid hiring more highly paid, full-time longshoremen. 
 
 Sometimes I get work two or three days a week. Sometimes it's only one day a week — Mario Huerta 
 
 The casuals all cobble together odd jobs on days they can’t find work at the docks, including gigs in construction, landscaping and as security guards. 
 
 Chris Grove, 39, has spent 13 years reporting for duty at the casual hall and says the instability of the work “tore up” his marriage. Grove, who comes from a long line of longshoremen, including his mother, says the work at the ports was steady and continuous until the recession of 2008-2009. 
 
 “I was able to put groceries on the table and keep the wife happy,” he says. 
 
 After the financial crisis, though, his name barely ever came up for shifts. So he got a second job, installing security systems, and then another, installing satellite dishes for DirecTV. He put his name on a list to join an elevator construction union and became a bouncer and then a security guard at a cannabis collective. He even got paid to register voters. 
 
 The work was unpredictable, he says, and his paycheck was so much thinner than it once was. 
 
 Grove still shows up for work at the casual hall some weekends, but now he’s more focused on his day job: In 2014, after waiting for eight years, he was admitted into the International Union of Elevator Constructors and makes good money with a full slate of benefits. 
 
 Times staff writer Ronald D. White contributed to this report. 
 
 Lead photo caption: Part-time casual longshoremen outside the International Longshore and Warehouse Union Casual Longshore Dispatch Hall in Wilmington, where some lucky workers will nab a shift. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times) 
 
 natalie.kitroeff@latimes.com 
 
 @NatalieKitro ||||| In San Pedro, Postal Annex owner Patrick Meehan sells 4x6 inch ILWU postcards. The cards will be sent out for a lottery drawing by the ILWU for casual jobs in the port. Brad Graverson — Staff Photographer 
 
 For the past few days, customers have been streaming nonstop into Patrick Meehan’s usually quiet postal store in San Pedro for a job opportunity not seen in a generation. 
 
 Nearly everyone who walks through the door wants a shot at one of the most well-paid, blue-collar jobs in California — and they need the post cards he sells to get in the lottery. 
 
 “Everywhere was sold out of these cards,” Meehan said, as the phone rang with yet another customer looking for post cards needed to apply for a union job on the docks. 
 
 The last time the International Longshore and Warehouse Union and their employers opened up a call for potential employees was in 2004, before the recession hit and the gig economy took off. More than a quarter-million people applied from around the world for 3,000 part-time jobs. 
 
 Rumors are swirling that even more people are putting their names in the drawing, but officials for InterOptimis, the Moorpark-based company handling the drawing, wouldn’t confirm. 
 
 “It’s a big deal. It’s a good job, it has good benefits,” said Paul Trani, president of ILWU Local 63, representing about 1,100 marine clerks. “PMA was estimating that with the Internet and Facebook we could get as many as a million cards, but I have no idea how many cards we have gotten so far.” 
 
 Post card deadline looming 
 
 Last week, the ILWU and the Pacific Maritime Association ran ads in local newspapers asking for post card submissions that will be drawn in a lottery for the next wave of part-time hires. The deadline is Thursday for most of the post cards to have been received. But for those who happen to know a dockworker or marine clerk, they could catch a break. 
 
 Members of the ILWU and other industry officials have been sent pre-addressed cards to hand out to family and friends. But many in the union didn’t get theirs until late last week, forcing the PMA to extend their deadline for receiving those cards to Tuesday. 
 
 InterOptimis will draw as many public cards as there are union-issued cards submitted. Once there are two sets of cards, InterOptimis will alternatively draw from each until they hit 3,400 names, according to a time line released by the ILWU. But Trani said only 2,400 names will be pulled and it’s not clear how many of those will actually become casuals. 
 
 Union officials will begin the lottery picks Feb. 6, but they haven’t set a location for the drawing. 
 
 “Just the fact that they are opening up the gates is amazing,” said Monique DiLeva, who was picking up seven post cards for family members. “People have been waiting for a long time.” 
 
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 Attractive compensation 
 
 Full-time dockworkers in Los Angeles and Long Beach on average make $123,278, obtain full free medical coverage and receive a pension, according to a 2015 report by the PMA, the terminal operators that hire dockworkers. 
 
 But the PMA doesn’t take applications. To get a full-time job on the docks, one has to first be a so-called casual. Casuals start about $25 an hour but their base rate adjusts as they gain experience. Also, they have no benefits. 
 
 There are about 14,000 dockworkers in the Los Angeles and Long Beach port complex and thousands more casuals. And the only way to become a casual is through the lottery process. 
 
 DiLeva, who started working part-time on the terminals at 19 years old, said the job, though it can be dangerous, has given her a comfortable life. 
 
 “I am not a nurse or a doctor, but it’s a proud thing to be a longshoreman,” said the 31-year-old mother. Like many working near the shores, the union harks back generations in her family. Her father was a dockworker and her husband is, too. 
 
 But those ties also provoke deep questions about the fairness of a system that dates back decades. She worries that not enough of the current part-timers are moving up the ranks. As of December, there were 7,297 longshore workers, according to the PMA. 
 
 Longtime casuals suspicious 
 
 The system is based on seniority, specifically the most hours worked. DiLeva said she clinched a full-time position in just three years, but she knows folks who have been casuals for more than a decade. Those casuals must call in daily to see if there’s work and the off-season tends to be slow. 
 
 In 2015, a change.org petition signed by 167 people called on the union and terminal operators to hold off on any lotteries. 
 
 “If the plan to hire 2,400 new identified casuals goes through as planned, our chances of becoming registered union members and the amount of work we would receive will be drastically reduced,” the petition said. 
 
 Casuals pick up work through a rotating system that gives every member an equal opportunity to work, but they have to be available. Many hold other jobs and don’t pick up every available working hour. The catch is that once a casual’s number in the system is called, they must physically be at the dispatch hall in Wilmington, said Rich Dines, a Long Beach harbor commissioner and a marine clerk who has worked on the waterfront for more than two decades. There is no guarantee of work, however. 
 
 “The hiring of casuals to full time has always based on industry demand,” Dines said. “If you had not gone through the Great Recession, who knows, we may have hired a couple of thousand people. The ports have yet to recover to our peak year of 2006 and 2007.” 
 
 Jobs are worth it 
 
 And though casual life can be demanding, Dines said it’s worth it. 
 
 That’s especially true for low-skilled workers who have seen a steady decline in their wages in other areas of employment. 
 
 “It’s fair to describe this as a lottery,” said Chris Tilly, former director of UCLA Institute for Research on Labor and Employment. “They are trying to hit the jackpot. The days of lots of well-paid factory jobs are gone.” 
 
 Fewer factory jobs exist, global competition is fierce and unions have become weaker, he said. 
 
 “These are terrific jobs,” Tilly said. “These are among the more protected jobs in the economy.” ||||| JEFFREY BROWN: Finally tonight, a dollar and a dream for millions of Americans. 
 
 Lotto fever, it seems, is sweeping the country. 
 
 MAN: That's it. Guys, you are all invited to my island after I win this. Thanks. 
 
 MAN: Which one is it with the most money? 
 
 WOMAN: The Mega Millions. 
 
 MAN: Give me one of those. 
 
 WOMAN: One sucker's going to win. Somebody's going to be a rich one, okay? 
 
 (LAUGHTER) 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: The biggest jackpot in history, $640 million, is at stake in tonight's Mega Millions multistate lottery -- 42 states, Washington, D.C., and the Virgin Islands participate, 85 percent of the country. 
 
 Lines swelled today with hopefuls ready to plunk down a dollar for a chance at millions. 
 
 WOMAN: One, two, three, and good luck. 
 
 WOMAN: Thank you. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: Lottery officials said one million tickets an hour sold in the 48 hours after Tuesday's drawing failed to produce a winner. 
 
 GARY GRIEF, executive director, Texas State Lottery Commission: We have people coming out that have never bought a ticket before because they see this number and they think, gee, for just a dollar, I have a chance at a half-a-billion. It's hard not to take a chance on that. 
 
 MAN: Thirty-five, 40, 45, 50. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: The chance at big money, about $350 million after taxes if the prize is taken in one lump sum, had many who wouldn't otherwise play shelling out. 
 
 ANDREA SLONE, Store Manager: Your typical customers that would normally buy like $2 worth of tickets are now spending $20 to $50 and up to -- even they're coming in with $100 sleeves. So, I mean, even the people that don't play are tempted. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: Can the president be counted among the tempted? 
 
 JAY CARNEY, White House press secretary: No, but I'm going to run out and buy one. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: As did many others elsewhere in the nation's capital who dared to dream. 
 
 JASON DAVIS, lottery player: I'm buying 30 tickets, because if I'm going to play against astronomical odds, I figure why go in just halfway? If I were to win, I would probably pay off my debts, quit my job, and give all of my staff a million dollars. 
 
 WANDA BROWN, lottery player: I'm going to help some people and buy myself a nice house and a nice oceanfront property. Hopefully, I'm just the one that will win the money. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: But what are the real chances of winning? A lousy one in 176 million. 
 
 Some more reasonable odds, by comparison, getting hit by falling airplane parts, 17 times more likely. Or being hit by lightning, that's 50 times more likely to happen than winning tonight's big money. 
 
 But there are longer odds out there, for instance, the chance of being eaten by a shark is 280 million to one. 
 
 MAN: It's slim. It's slim, but I'm going to take that chance, like anybody else. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: So, with such long odds, why do so many play? 
 
 MIT Professor Andrew Lo studies the psychology of risk. 
 
 ANDREW LO, professor, Massachusetts Institute of Technology: We have an imagination, an extraordinarily refined imagination. And, as a result, we can conjure up all sorts of really interesting scenarios of what we might do with the money if we won, and how happy we would be, and so on and so forth. 
 
 And the very act of conjuring up these scenarios actually provides pleasure right now. So, in a way, what they're doing is buying the dream. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: Retailers have a stake, too. The store that sells the winning ticket could get up to $100,000, although foot traffic is the real boon. 
 
 RICK HARTMAN: Anybody that comes up so far since I have been here this morning, they come in for their coffee or whatever, they get their lottery tickets, too. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: The states that participate in the drawing also stand to benefit. If there's a winner in tonight's drawing, just over a third of that $640 million will go to the winning state in taxes. 
 
 In Georgia, for example, proceeds of the sale of tickets go to the HOPE Scholarship, which funds in-state college education for high-achieving students. 
 
 Still, it's definitely not all fun and games. In economically stressed areas, many people who have less money to play still do. Households earning under $13,000 per year spend about 9 percent of their income on lottery tickets, on average, according to a 2008 study from "The Journal of Risk and Uncertainty." 
 
 Of course, someone will win, but even that doesn't guarantee happiness. 
 
 ANDREW LO: When you win that kind of money, everybody knows that you have won that kind of money. So, all of a sudden, distant relatives, friends, people you never heard of are coming into your lives, asking for just a little bit of that money. And that creates an enormous amount of tension and ultimately unhappiness. So I think it's a mixed blessing. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: In the end, some will settle for small victories. . . 
 
 MAN: I won $9 today. 
 
 QUESTION: Back into the lottery or. . . 
 
 MAN: I'll take my cash. 
 
 JEFFREY BROWN: . . . while someone else will take about 71 million times more than that after a drawing tonight in Atlanta at 11:00 p.m.
– It's Willy Wonka's golden ticket but for adults desperate for a blue-collar job in America. The International Longshore and Warehouse Union is holding a drawing for 2,400 part-time jobs loading and unloading shipping containers at ports in the Los Angeles area, the Los Angeles Times reports. While these part-time positions don't come with guaranteed hours or benefits, they do come with the possibility of getting promoted to full-time, unionized longshoreman—a position that had an average salary of $161,000 per year in 2016. It's not a sure thing and it can be a long wait—some workers have been stuck as part-timers for 13 years—but one woman who applied for the lottery calls it a "once in a lifetime opportunity." The ILWU hasn't held this kind of drawing since 2004, the Long Beach Press Telegram reports. Back then, more than 250,000 people entered the lottery; up to a million may enter this time around. The Times says it shows "how desperate" Americans are to even get a shot at a "stable, high-paying career working with their hands." That shot doesn't come without risks. The average part-time longshoreman earned just $31,000 in 2016. And while the ILWU says it's holding the drawing to avoid labor shortages at ports, according to the Journal of Commerce, some long-time part-timers warn of days on end without a shift and a tough lifestyle. The deadline for the entry into the drawing was earlier this month; the drawing is scheduled for Feb. 6.