Our People – Our History, GE Plastics

GE Plastics Cobourg, Ontario

Our People – Our History

By Ralph Holland Wilson

Published by GE Plastics Box 2004 44 Normar Road Cobourg, Ontario K9A 4L7 Editorial services provided by Wallbridge House Publishing 246 Albert Street Belleville, Ontario K8N 3N9 Cover and book design by Jozef VanVeenen Tikit Visuals Box 5271 RR5 Trenton, Ontario K8V 5P8 Front cover photo by Barry Ferguson Ferguson Aviation Services 92 Calnan Road RR1 Grafton, Ontario K0K 2GO Printed in Canada by Friesens Corp.

One Memory Lane Altona, Manitoba R0G 0B0

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise (except for brief passages for review purposes) without permission from the publisher.

ISBN 0-9780456-0-2

Table of

Contents

The Little Engine That Could.................................................................................................. 9 Borg-Warner Chemicals’ U.S. Plants...................................................................................15 A Plastics Primer........................................................................................................................17 Plastics Pioneer: Len Harvey.................................................................................................18 Compassionate Companions: Les Boysen and Ruth Boysen-Spackman.............26 Out of the Band Box: Leslie Fraser......................................................................................28 The Road to Hong Kong: Ed Kraushar...............................................................................31 From Perogies to Plastics: Leo Kowal................................................................................40 Blues Artist: Bill Finley.............................................................................................................50 Fifty Pounds of Pellets: Bill Gadd – Custom Plastics International..........................53 The Great Escape: Barbara Acorn........................................................................................56 Extruder Extraordinaire: Jack Adams................................................................................58 A Family Affair............................................................................................................................62 Growing Pains: Roger Pearce...............................................................................................64 What to do about Al: Al Harnden.......................................................................................66 Off to See the Wizard: Barb Harnden................................................................................70 Extruding the News – Normarac.........................................................................................73 Chemline.....................................................................................................................................74 Compounding the Issue: Karl Lenahan............................................................................78 Keep on Truckin’: Mayor Forrest Rowden........................................................................79 Core Philosophy: Ken Ellis.....................................................................................................81

Patient’s Virtue: Bill Patient...................................................................................................88 Marbon Mentor: Bruce Broberg..........................................................................................90 Smooth and Savvy: Ron Sargent........................................................................................92 Number-cruncher: Doug Beauchamp..............................................................................98 Just Another Milestone: Barb Kelly................................................................................. 102 Down on the Bayou: Doug Mathera............................................................................... 104 Ernie’s Epiphany: Ernie Everingham............................................................................... 106 Aladdin’s Cave: Des Barry.................................................................................................... 108 Back to Basics: Jack Russell................................................................................................ 116 Giving a “Hoot”....................................................................................................................... 119 Colour – His World: Ron Walt............................................................................................. 120 Reaching Beyond the Minimal: Don Wiles................................................................... 127 Tough Times: Randy Morris................................................................................................ 132 Back From the Brink: Joe Bleull......................................................................................... 136 Full Circle: Darlene Bunn, R.N............................................................................................ 139 A Tradition of Service: Diane Saunders.......................................................................... 141 Small Orders in a Big Order Game: Steve Rosa........................................................... 144 GE Plastics Today................................................................................................................... 148 Borg-Warner/GE Plastics Timeline................................................................................... 152 Glossary, Trade Names and Abbreviations................................................................... 156 In Memoriam......................................................................................................................... 157

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Congratulations!

rhw photo

Congratulations!

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Foreword

By Steve Rosa

Site Leader, GE Plastics, Cobourg

rhw photo

In November 2005, I attended the annual GE/Borg-Warner alumni Christmas party. My wife and I were able to speak with a number of folks whom we had not met before, and we both noticed that the evening was full of rich discussion and camaraderie within a group of people who, over the years, have become extended family to each other.

A week after the celebration, I received a letter from one of the alumni, which articulated his gratefulness for having had the opportunity to work at this facility with this group of people. His letter was clearly a testimony to the solidarity of friendships, and to the pride of comradeship that has evolved over the years within the team.

So it’s been 40 years since the doors opened on the Marbon Chemicals plant in Hamilton Township. I have been with this little plant on Normar Road for almost 10 years, but it is only now becoming clear to me the significance of what has happened here. After four decades, this team has developed a legacy. Throughout a 40year time period, a facility such as this faces many challenges, and certainly 44 Normar Road has had its share.

But the team here never gave up, and always played to win.

This is what we are celebrating in 2006. This celebration, including this book, is all about a proud team that always played the game to win. So we honour our wonderful alumni – the people who gave us this legacy and this wonderful place to work. And we celebrate our employees – the folks that carry on the legacy today. I personally thank you all for allowing me the privilege to have been a small part of it. I also thank Ken Ellis for having the vision and the fortitude to make this book happen. Ken, I owe you one…

Steve Rosa

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Steve and Lorelei Rosa.

Acknowledgements “Our People – Our History” would not have been possible were it not for the

dedication and determination of two persons – Ken Ellis and Steve Rosa. Ken, who joined Normar in 1967, was the primary driving force behind getting the project under way. Steve, who has served at the plant for 10 years and currently is site leader at GE Plastics, shared Ken’s vision and appreciation of the importance of Normar’s history.

There were many others who contributed their time, energy, photographs and information. Special mention is due to the following individuals, listed alphabetically: Bud Barr (Cobourg historian), Joe Bleull (former plant Ken Ellis. manager), Ruth Boysen-Spackman, Darlene Bunn (occupational health nurse), Mayor Peter Delanty (Town of Cobourg), Kathy Ellis (Ken Ellis’s wife), Ernie Everingham, Al Farewell (Canadian Plastics Pioneers), Mayor Bill Finley (Township of AlnwickHaldimand), Bill Gadd (formerly with Custom Plastics), Al and Barb Harnden (GE Plastics), Peter Harrison (owner and president, Custom Plastics), Len Harvey (former president, BorgWarner Chemicals), Dr. Thomas Hawke (Cobourg and District Historical Society), Donna Heenan (daughter of the late Jack Heenan, former mayor of Cobourg), Joe Hetherington (plant security), Paul Jacot (GE Canada Public Relations), Petra Kennedy (Town of Cobourg), Leo Kowal (former plant manager), Rosemary Kumlin (Daystar Education Society, Calgary), Stew Low (GM Canada), Laura MacDonald (James Lumbers Publishing Ltd.), Cath Oberholtzer (Cobourg and District Historical Society), Bill Patient (former plant manager), Lou Rinaldi (MPP, Northumberland), Mayor Forrest

Rowden (Hamilton Township), Jack Russell (former plant manager), Ron Sargent (former controller, Normar), Diane Saunders (GE Plastics) and Harold Thom of the Kentucky folk/bluegrass band “The Cumberlands.”

It would be virtually impossible to credit all of the shutterbugs whose photos appear in this work.

However, among the most prolific were former employees Ed Wangen, Bob Foster, Ron Sargent, Ron Smith, Jim Doyle and Jim Burns.

Special thanks also to Ron Price, who joined Marbon Chemicals in 1968 as manager of marketing research in Gary, Indiana. In the late 1970s, Ron became Borg-Warner Chemicals’ automotive commercial manager and, in the mid1980s, was appointed global automotive market manager. He left Borg-Warner Chemicals in 1989 to join Exxon Chemical.

Ron took over duties as “keeper of the keys” to a treasure trove of BWC archival material, previously the responsibility of the late Larry Swanson, who died in 2003. Ron, along with former BWC vice-president Terry Hunt, also created a special Borg-Warner Chemicals alumni website (www.bwcmarbon.com), dedicated to preserving the many cherished memories and images of BWC’s past. Ron provided many of the early BWC plant photographs used in this book.

Terry Hunt also provided a number of archival photographs and assisted in tracking down former BWC employees in the United States. Terry joined Marbon in 1962 as a process engineer at Woodmar.

After serving in several positions, including production engineer, area manager and production

manager, in 1969 he was appointed manager of manufacturing planning. In 1974 he was posted to Europe as vice-president, operations. In 1976 he also became vice-president of Plastics in Europe.

Terry returned to the United States in 1978 as vicepresident, Planning. A year later he was appointed vice-president, Specialties Products. In 1984 he became vice-president, Strategic Resources – a catch-all for technical, engineering, licensing, planning, environmental and community relations.

He also served on boards of directors with a number of venture companies, two universities and the U.S. Council of Chemical Research. He left GE in 1988 and for three years served as a consultant for a number of foreign companies and countries.

- Ralph H. Wilson

Author’s

Note

Many of the technical words and terms and trade names used in this book will be familiar to most, if not all, GE Plastics employees, past and present. But, for other readers unfamiliar with the industry, definitions and explanations may be required. Where practicable, these definitions have been included either within the text itself, or as footnotes. Products carrying registered trademarks are so noted in first reference only. A brief glossary also has been included on page 156.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Introduction Per Ardua Ad Astra Looking back over five decades, a number of key words come to mind when describing Normar, the original name of GE Plastics’1 plant in Cobourg – words such as determination, resourcefulness, independence and self-reliance. Other descriptive words include: compact, focused, close-knit and, yes, even feisty. But, one word – dedication – best describes Normar’s journey through time.

In today’s highly competitive, global economy where small often means vulnerable and “convergence” is the ruling corporate buzzword, Normar’s very survival has faced its fair share of close calls. But, invariably, it has bounced back.

Even its name has survived, even though the plant hasn’t officially been known as Normar since 19732.

But, for old times’ sake, we’ll stick with the original name for this work.

As chemical complexes go, the plant isn’t particularly large. Tucked away at the south end of Normar Road, it hugs Lake Ontario at Lucas Point. The plant is actually in Hamilton Township but its parking lot and water tank are in the Town of Cobourg. The township, part of Northumberland County, enjoys GE’s tax payments.

Cobourg’s coffers benefit from GE’s water payments.

That’s a story in itself, but we’ll touch on that a bit later.

About 190 people work there today, turning powdered ABS3 and a wide variety of other resins into plastic pellets and sheeting. Though the plant is equipped with up-to-date, high-tech equipment, there’s nothing unusually fancy about the work, but it’s highly specialized nonetheless. GE Plastics’ employees have been producing the feedstock for countless common and not-so-common products for 40 years – from the familiar black DWV4 plumbing pipe to plastics for automotive and electronic products, from hardhats to CDs, DVDs and toys. It’s safe to say there likely isn’t a household in Canada without a product produced from GE’s Cycolac® ABS.

For “Star Wars” fans, many of the costumes, including the gleaming white “storm troopers’” armour, were fabricated from Cycolac ABS, and, since 1963, LEGO® plastic building bricks have been made using ABS. Before then, LEGO bricks were made from cellulose acetate.

Normar in the early 1980s.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

ABS was among the first of a handful of early discoveries that opened the floodgates to thousands of other thermoplastic feedstock formulas that today, at GE Plastics, include Azdel Plus®, Cycolac/Geloy®, Cycoloy®, Lexan®, Noryl GTX®, Ultem®, Valox® and Xenoy® – perhaps not household names to those outside the industry, but all important ingredients in the manufacture of tens of thousands of household goods, appliances, electronic and automotive components, parts and products.

Times have changed since the plant’s humble beginnings. So, too, have the technology and techniques of the plastics trade – many times over.

But some things have never changed at Normar.

First among them is safety, which not only includes strict adherence to safe work practices and looking out for one another, but also a sincere commitment to the natural environment and health. Safety,

The Little Engine that Could Normar’s tale is not unlike the one told in the charming children’s book, “The Little Engine That Could.6” When faced with new challenges or adversity, Normar’s people always have responded with verve. The storybook locomotive’s “I think I can, I think I can”, at Normar more often than not became, “We knew we could, we knew we could.”

“Ever in the shadow of its American owners, GE Plastics Cobourg is much like Canada in microcosm.” Normar dutifully soldiers on; politely shrugging off the stereotypical American belief that Canada is merely a quaint, backwoods cousin, sitting on Uncle Sam’s doorstep.

Time and again, senior U.S. management had difficulty grasping why it was that Normar did so well, even when times were toughest. The answer, of course, was simple. Normar’s people performed – and they still do.

As with any company that’s endured 40 years of existence, there were the inevitable ups and downs, good times and bad, booms and busts. Many good employees were forced to leave, or chose to, because of takeovers, economic downturns, corporate downsizing and realignments. But, through it all, Normar’s special culture has remained intact.

It was – and still is – a distinct culture within a huge, multi-faceted, multi-national organization. Whether it was part of Borg-Warner8 or General Electric, Normar steadfastly maintained its own personality and independence. It has proven itself time and again.

Perhaps Normar’s original employee activity club (NEAC) motto says it best, “Per Ardua ad Astra9” – “Through Adversity to the Stars.” The true stars, of course, are Normar’s employees, past and present.

This book is dedicated to them – and to those who will follow in their footsteps.

health and the environment are not, and never have been, mere “motherhood” issues at Normar.

They’re deeply embedded in the way everything – and everyone – operates. Ask anybody at the plant; they’ll tell you that safety really is Job One. At first glance, to the outsider, what goes on at GE Plastics5 Cobourg may seem rather uncomplicated.

Powdered resin goes in, pellets and sheeting come out. But there’s nothing simple about the skills involved in producing the kaleidoscope of coloured plastics feedstock that GE’s myriad customers demand – thousands upon thousands of colours, each painstakingly mixed to meet exacting standards.

Frequently, GE Plastics’ people are called upon to deliver against tight deadlines – and deliver they do, often earning high praise, not only for swift turnaround times, but also for their dedication to producing reliable, high quality product.

Original plant site, 1950s.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

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1 0 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

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Happy 40th anniversary, Normar! Has it really been that long? Well, the short answer is that it depends on when you start counting. While the plant’s first employees were hired in 1965, actual commercial production really didn’t begin until the end of the following year. But who’s going to quibble over a few months?

Les Boysen10, who would become Normar’s first plant manager in 1966, was sent to Cobourg late in 1964. He was from Marbon Chemicals’ head office in Gary, Indiana, and had been working with Len Harvey, then vice-president of manufacturing, to get things rolling. Harvey, originally from St. Catharines, Ontario, and Boysen, had been scouting Canadian locations for more than a year before settling on Cobourg.

“I looked at a number of potential sites,” Len Harvey said. “One was near Oakville. We also looked at a property in Port Hope. I opted for Cobourg because I’d spent a lot of summers there. We really never seriously considered anywhere else.”

Never lacking in business or political savvy, Marbon’s owner, the giant Borg-Warner Corporation (BW)11, realized that if it were to become a major player in the rapidly growing Canadian plastics market, it would have to find a way to circumvent

duties imposed on plastics feedstock imported from the United States. The solution was to start a plant in Canada.

Cobourg proved to be the ideal location. It offered relatively cheap land, a good labour pool and reasonably low taxes. The town was just west of the midway point between Toronto and Montreal.

Canadian Pacific and Canadian National railways were close by, and the Macdonald-Cartier Freeway, Highway 401, which officially opened in 1965, offered excellent truck access to the major markets of southern Ontario.

These included BWC’s big-ticket customers – the huge automakers in Oshawa, Oakville, St. Thomas and Windsor. Bell Telephone12 and Northern Electric13 also were major BWC customers. Northern and Bell had plants in Toronto, Montreal and London.

In the U.S., Western Electric and American Telephone & Telegraph were among Marbon’s first big customers.

Pick up a phone anywhere in North America today and

there’s a good chance you’re talking through plastic provided by General Electric, which bought BorgWarner’s plastics division in 1988.

The fact that Cobourg potentially could be developed into a major commercial lake port also wasn’t completely lost on Borg-Warner. Although product never was shipped to or from Normar via the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway, if ever a decision were made to go that route, Cobourg was perfectly situated. But the option never was seriously considered. “That was kind of wishful thinking,” Len Harvey said.

4 So, Cobourg it would be.

Borg-Warner purchased a tiny, ramshackle former gelatin plant on 14.4 hectares (43 acres) of 2

scrubland at the end of a bumpy, dirt road near the southwestern limits of Hamilton Township. The building was little more than a dilapidated shack, but it was set against the backdrop of sparkling Lake Ontario – a beauty alongside a beast of a building.

Prior to its purchase, the building was the site of P. Leiner & Sons Canada Ltd., a U.K.-based gelatin business that served, among others, General Foods14 5

6

7

8

9

10

1

11 3

1- Les Fraser.

2 - Ed Kraushar.

3 - Barb Acorn.

4 - Les Boysen.

5 - Ed Jackson.

6 - Lorne Hill.

7 - Jack Adams.

8 - Doug Irwin.

9 - Roger Pearce.

10 - Alex Barrie.

11 - Roy Sherwood.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 1

and Kraft Canada Inc. The husband-and-wife team of Leslie and Magda Fraser operated the plant.

Marbon hired Les Fraser on August 1, 1965 and he became Normar’s first official on-site employee and accountant. He later would be appointed its purchasing manager.

Les Boysen spent most of 1965 getting the business established, advertising for and interviewing, prospective employees, and preparing the plant for the tonnes of equipment that were to be shipped from the States.

Including Les Boysen, four employees formed the original team in 1965: Les Fraser, accounting, August 1; Ed Kraushar, quality control, October 1; and Barb Acorn, secretary, December 8. While each had his or her own specific responsibilities, their actual job titles were virtually meaningless, since they all wore a variety of hats during Normar’s early days, all pitching in to get the plant in some semblance of order – and it was a tall order, to say the least, given the state of the building with which they had to work.

Not only was it in rough shape to begin with, it also sustained serious damage during a fire on August 4, 1965. The fire, caused by sparks from a welding or cutting torch, occurred just weeks before the first employees were to begin work. The building was vacant at the time of the blaze, but construction crews had been working inside the plant preparing it for Borg-Warner’s takeover.

As the sprucing-up continued through the fall and winter, Boysen and his team began the process of installing equipment and gearing up for production.

On June 6, 1966, the first eight production employees were hired: Jack Adams, Ed Jackson, Lorne Hill, Roy Sherwood, Wayne Rusaw, Alex Barrie, Roger Pearce and Doug Irwin.

There’ll be more about the plant and its early employees a little later, but first, through the “Magic of Cycolac” we’ll set our “Way-back Extruder” to the depths of the Great Depression and Gary, Indiana, where Normar’s story begins.

1 2 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

In the beginning …

Gary was the birthplace of the Marsene Transparent Paper Company, a manufacturer of transparent casein15 film. Located at the southern tip of Lake Michigan, Gary is about 50 kilometres southeast of Chicago, Illinois.

When the modern plastics industry was still in its infancy, Gary was synonymous with steel – “Big Steel.” When the city was founded in 1905, it was named after U.S. Steel chairman Elbert H. Gary, and was selected by the huge, Pittsburgh-based conglomerate to become the site of what was then its largest mill.

It’s somewhat fitting and perhaps ironic that Marbon Chemicals began in a steel town since, as newer and stronger polymers were

Marsene employees, 1930s.

Marbon Chemicals Co., Gary, Indiana.

developed, plastics went on to replace steel in many applications.

However, in the early 1930s, plastics, of the synthetic variety, were still largely experimental. But natural polymers, or “protein plastics,” had been in use since the days of the Egyptian pharaohs, when animal horns and tortoise shells were fabricated into simple ornaments and utensils.16 In medieval England, a “horner” was someone who softened pieces of cow horn by boiling them in water or soaking them in alkaline solutions.

Incidentally, the surname Horner was derived from this profession, much like the names Baker, Taylor, Carpenter and Hunter originally identified those persons’ livelihoods.

Horn products included combs, spoons, lantern windows and buttons.17

Marbon Chemicals Co., Gary, Indiana.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 3

Horns and hooves Horns, hooves and bones were sources of early natural polymers. Interestingly enough, if one were to dig a hole deep enough at the Normar site, traces of all three likely would be found, since leftovers and animal carcasses from the Frasers’ old gelatin plant were buried not far from where Normar’s administration building now stands.

When construction crews were excavating during the plant’s early renovation and expansion, they were somewhat taken aback by a rather pungent “archeological” discovery hidden in the earth below.

Former employee Roger Pearce remembers the day the crews unearthed the remains: “I was working the 4-to-12 shift and, when I drove in, the place smelled to high heaven. Those construction guys had to put up with the stench for days. If anybody asks, I can say I know where the bodies are buried,” he joked.

So, there’s something of a connection between Normar and the ancient history of plastics, although some might argue the bovine link is something of a stretch. Its direct descendant, Marsene, on the other hand, originally produced a cellophane-like paper made from casein, a milk protein, so perhaps the link isn’t all that farfetched, after all.

Unfortunately Marsene’s first product line wasn’t much of a commercial success and, by the time it was acquired by the Borg-Warner Corporation in 1932, Marsene, later renamed Marbon, had no active products.

It did, however, hold some promising patents, and continued experimenting with a variety of other products including adhesives, a cyclized rubber product, a line of high-styrene reinforcing resins and paint resins.

During the Second World War, Marbon was the sole source of cyclized rubber insulation used by the British in early radar installations. By 1943, however, polyurethane replaced cyclized rubber in radar equipment wire insulation.

1 4 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

The first three letters of “cyclized,” survived as the first part of the trade name “Cycolac” when Marbon chemists first came up with the name for the product that would launch Borg-Warner toward a future as one of the largest chemical companies of its time.

In 1934, Marsene became fully integrated with Borg-Warner Chemicals, and its name was changed to Marbon. Initially, Marbon served the rubber industry with a line of synthetic resin materials, followed by resins for the paint industry.

Marbon became part of Borg-Warner’s Chemicals and Plastics Group, one of BW’s six major business units, which included air conditioning, industrial products, transportation equipment, financial services and protective services.18 The decision to acquire Marsene was one that would lead Borg-Warner to become a world leader in plastics research, development and production.

The Gary plant would grow and expand many times until a larger facility would be required.

In the early 1950s, Marbon introduced its first acrylonitrile-butadiene-styrene (ABS) formulation, which was later named Cycolac, a trademark held by Borg-Warner Chemicals until GE bought Borg-Warner’s plastics and chemicals divisions in 1988.

Marbon Chemicals became the largest of Borg-Warner Chemicals’ four operating units. In 1973, the three other units were Specialties, which produced paint and rubber resins, chemicals for electroplating plastics and ABS resins for modifying PVC (polyvinyl chloride) resins; Packaging Resins, engaged in the development of specialized resins for packaging; and Weston Chemical, which made additives for the plastics, elastomers19 and fibres industries.

BWC was one of GE Plastics’ two largest competitors in North America; Dow Chemical was the other. Effective December 31, 1980, Borg-Warner Chemicals became a wholly owned subsidiary of Borg-Warner Corporation. As of 1980, its North American locations (plastics) included: Woodmar (Washington, West Virginia); Linmar (Ottawa, Illinois); Calmar (Oxnard, California); Baymar (Port Bienville, Mississippi); and Normar in Cobourg, Ontario.

Borg-Warner Chemicals’ corporate headquarters offices were: the International Centre, in Parkersburg, West Virginia; the Technical Centre, in Washington, West Virginia; Central Engineering, in Parkersburg; and the Central Research Laboratory, in Des Plaines, Illinois. BWC’s North American locations in 1980 also included Cos-Mar, in Carville, Louisiana; the Geismar plant, in Geismar, Louisiana; and Weston, in Morgantown, West Virginia.

The three original “Mar” plants were: Woodmar, a combination of the words Wood County and Marbon; Linmar (Lincoln County and Marbon) and Normar (Northumberland County and Marbon).

By 1982, Borg-Warner Chemicals employed more than 3,400 employees at 14 manufacturing facilities, 15 sales offices and seven headquarters locations in 14 countries.

BWC was the chemicals group of Borg-Warner Corporation, headquartered in Chicago, Illinois.

Overall, the corporation had more than 55,000 employees working in 20 countries. In 1980 it was listed as number 140 in the Fortune 500 listing of major corporations. Within the Chemicals Group, there were four wholly-owned units: Borg-Warner Chemicals, Inc.; Borg-Warner Canada Chemicals Division; Borg-Warner Europe Chemicals Division; and Marbon Australia. Borg-Warner Chemicals Canada was a division of Borg-Warner Canada, which also owned York Air Conditioning.

Borg-Warner Chemicals’ U.S. Plants Linmar, named for Abraham Lincoln (Illinois is known as the “Land of Lincoln”), was located in a rural area between Marseilles and Ottawa, Illinois, about 145 kilometres southwest of Chicago. It began production in August 1967, with Bill Reagan as its first plant manager. In 1965, Reagan, who had been in charge of Marbon’s Gary facility before Borg-Warner Chemicals began its expansion, was sent to Ottawa to oversee the construction and start-up of BWC’s Midwestern U.S. operations. Linmar started with fewer than 40 employees but, by 1977, its workforce had grown to more than 400.

“We want to run a plant where people care about what they do without having a supervisor breathing down the neck,” Reagan said in an interview with BWC’s employee newspaper, Chemline. “Our people have to have a lot of integrity. We try to make Linmar the best place to work in this locality; we try to involve people; we try to keep the place interesting; and we try so darn hard to hire people we think will get along with each other.”

Reagan, a straight shooter who never failed to speak his mind, nonetheless was well liked and respected by his employees, many of whom parroted his famous quip, “Don’t disturb me; I like it here.”

Linmar Plant, BWC, Ottawa, Illinois.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 5

Woodmar, in Washington, West Virginia, was the first ABS plant built by BWC, and was the largest of its five North American plants. At one time, Woodmar was the largest ABS plant in the world. Situated in an area called Washington Bottom (George Washington once owned the land), Woodmar was one of a number of industrial plants along the Ohio River. In 1957, former Marbon president Bob Shattuck selected the site for Woodmar and oversaw construction and startup. Under Shattuck, BWC’s overall ABS production doubled every three years from 1957 until the recession of 1973.

Ron Smith, who began his BWC career there in compounding, worked at Woodmar from 1962 until 1965. After serving as plant manager at BWC’s facilities in Grangemouth, Scotland and Amsterdam, Holland, in 1977 Smith returned to Woodmar as its plant manager. Smith, popular with Woodmar’s crews, also was well known and liked by many of Normar’s early employees, many of whom met and worked with Smith while on visits or during training sessions. Every bit a “Borg man,” Smith was a major proponent of open, across-the-board communication – a lesson he implanted with a number of Normar’s early managers.

“We have to communicate where we are, where we’re going, the good news and the bad news,” he once told Chemline. “If we can get everyone involved in what’s going on, a collective involvement, then we’ll work out our problem areas.”

Weston had the distinction of being quite different from the other four BWC plants in North America. First, it was the only plant that BorgWarner didn’t start from scratch. It was purchased from Weston Chemical Company in 1969 by BorgWarner Corp., and became part of the Chemicals & Plastics division in 1972. Second, it was the

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only BWC plant that didn’t make ABS plastics.

It made commercial chemicals used by other manufacturers.

It did, however, share a West Virginia heritage with Woodmar, the division offices and the Technical Centre. Weston, along the Monongahela River, was high in West Virginia’s Cheat Mountains, about 190 kilometres east of Parkersburg.

The plant was located on the site of a former DuPont munitions raw materials factory. Weston had two distinct facilities, about a kilometre apart from one another. One of the facilities produced phosphites, a plastics additive that provided colour and heat stability. The various types of phosphites helped keep ABS resin from burning up in the dryers and worked to halt colour formation and streaking when the ABS was extruded and molded.

The second, and newer, facility (built in 1973) produced intermediate chemicals called alkylphenols. One type of alkylphenol was used to make “surfactants,” for use in industrial detergents. Surfactants were used as cleansing and emulsifying agents. The other type of alkylphenol was primarily used in lubricants to make oil last longer.

Calmar, in Oxnard, California, about 100 kilometres north of Los Angeles, was the smallest of BWC’s North American plants. Located about eight kilometres inland from the Pacific Ocean, it was an important part of BWC’s overall marketing and sales strategy. Calmar would receive its resins from Woodmar and Linmar and then finish them into a variety of ABS colours and codes, then quickly ship the pellets to customers in 11 surrounding states.

Calmar also acted as a distribution point for some of the popular codes of ABS produced by Linmar and Woodmar. West Coast customers placed their orders directly through Calmar.

A Plastics Primer It’s difficult to imagine a world without plastics.

Modern plastics predate Canada’s Confederation by five years. Before the 1860s, there were no plastics, as we know them today. In 1862, the first plastic material was produced by treating cotton wool with nitric acid to form cellulose fibres, which became known by the trade name celluloid, used to produce, among other things, early movie film and shirt cuffs and collars – all highly flammable.

No doubt Canada’s first prime minister, Sir John A. Macdonald, spilled plenty of gin on his stiff cuffs and collars, making them even more susceptible to fire.

Fifty years later, coal tar was used as the raw material to produce “Bakelite” plastic products, including early telephones, radios and electrical insulation. Other hydrocarbon-based materials were introduced during the 1930s, including polystyrene, acrylic polymers and vinyl. While nylon was discovered in 1935, it didn’t go into full commercial production until the late 1930s. Other plastics materials, including low-density polyurethane, polyesters, silicones and epoxy resins, followed in the 1940s.

Polycarbonates came along during the 1950s, with polypropylene and high-density polyethylene being introduced in the 1960s. The modern era of engineering thermoplastics was launched in 1953 when Dr. Daniel W. Fox invented GE’s LEXAN® polycarbonate.

After conducting a series of experiments while working on a project to develop new wire insulation material, Dr. Fox found himself with a gooey substance that hardened in a beaker. Despite his best efforts, he found he could not break or destroy the material. LEXAN polycarbonate was born.

Dr. Fox is recognized around the world as one of the pioneers of engineering plastics. His invention of LEXAN resin was the beginning of GE’s engineering thermoplastics business and was a breakthrough in

Products made with Cycolac ABS (1970s).

materials technology. Today it is GE Plastics’ flagship product and is used in products ranging from CDs and DVDs, to automobiles, computer housings, cell phones, jetliners, astronaut helmets and bulletresistant window glazing.

Dr. Fox joined GE in 1953 in Schenectady, New York, and worked for GE for 35 years. He held 44 patents. In addition to LEXAN resin, he also initiated the technical development of programs for Noryl® polyphenylene ether polymers and polybutylene terephthalate polymers, which later evolved into GE’s Valox® resin business. Dr. Fox received GE’s first Steinmetz Award in 1973 and was inducted into the Plastics Hall of Fame in 1976.

A keen eye for talent, Dr. Fox hired many people who later became leaders in GE, including former chairman and CEO John F. Welch.

Dr. Fox received his B.S. degree from Lebanon Valley College in Annville, Pennsylvania, and his M.S. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Oklahoma in Norman. Although he officially retired from GE in

June 1988, he continued his active work in polymer development up until his death in February 1989.20 So-called “third-generation” performance plastics made their debut in the early 1970s. These included new polyamides and polyacetals. Today, there are more than 700 types of plastic, which fall into 18 main polymer families.

Now that we’ve set the scene, let’s meet some of the key people who, down through the years, have been instrumental in guiding Normar from its earliest days to its position today within GE Plastics Canada.

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Plastics Pioneer

rhw photo

Len Harvey

It’s a sultry afternoon in July 2005 and 79-yearold Len Harvey, in a salmon-coloured golf shirt and white tennis shorts, is relaxing outside his spacious summer home on Baptiste Lake, just north of Bancroft, Ontario. He and his wife, Beth,

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arrived here on July 1, Canada Day, after the long trip from their home in Parkersburg, West Virginia.

An expatriate Canadian, Len’s been spending his summers in central Ontario since early childhood.

Looking tanned and remarkably fit for his years, Len invites his guest inside for a cool drink and relief from the record-breaking heat. He stretches out on a futon and begins reminiscing about his 37-year career with Marbon Chemicals/Borg-Warner. He’s one of North America’s true plastics pioneers.

Len was there in the early 1950s, at the dawn of the North American plastics revolution. He helped Borg-Warner Chemicals to become one of the world’s leading innovators in the industry, and was instrumental in guiding the company’s plastics division from humble beginnings to a billion-dollar business. And, most important for those who now work at GE Plastics Cobourg, it was he who decided to locate Marbon’s plant in Cobourg. Simply put, without Len Harvey, there would have been no Normar.

Len was born in 1925 and spent his early years in St. Catharines, Ontario. His father, a police officer, had served in the First World War. Len was just four years old when his father died. After his father’s death, the family moved to England for about a year and a half and then returned to St. Catharines. Len completed three years of high school and then at age 17, enlisted with the Royal Canadian Air Force in 1942 and, after training in Oshawa, Ottawa and Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, he became a pilot and was posted to Newfoundland for the remainder of the war.

After the war, through a Veterans’ Affairs program, he crammed to finish high school and then attended Queen’s University in Kingston, graduating in 1950 with his degree in chemical engineering. Soon after graduation, he worked in a contract position to refurbish an explosives unit at Canadian Arsenals in Valleyfield21, Quebec, on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, about 70 kilometres southwest of Montreal.

About a year later, with the refurbishing work complete, and seeking new challenges, Len was

leafing through a technical journal when he came upon an ad for Marbon Chemicals. He answered the ad and, in October 1951, found himself being interviewed by famed Borg-Warner Chemicals president Bob Shattuck.

“I pointed out to him that it would take a while to get things straightened around and to get a visa to get into the United States,” Len said. “He told me that wasn’t a problem and that it would take about three months to get the visa. ‘We’ll wait for you,’ he said.”

Early in February 1952, work visa in hand, Len reported for work as a process engineer at Marbon Chemicals’ plant in Gary, Indiana. It was a small business, with sales of less than $2.5 million (US) a year. There were fewer than 100 employees working at the plant at the time, with only a handful of technically trained people. Most were involved in producing rubber resins used in the manufacture of products such as compression-molded floor tiles and shoe soles.

But a few of Marbon’s employees were conducting research into a new, rubber-like material that could be injection-molded. They were on the threshold of developing ABS, which would revolutionize the plastics industry.

“In the early ’50s, ABS was sort of a gleam in the eyes of the research people,” Len explained. “A lot of data came into the public domain as a result of the Rubber Reserve Program that the U.S. had carried on during the war, so we utilized those data, along with some other ideas in trying to build a synthetic rubber molecule.”

Early research efforts, chiefly by the Tennessee Eastman Corporation22 and DuPont, led to enhancements, including work conducted by U.S. Rubber, which, by the mid-1950s, had developed a product similar to ABS. “The upshot was, around 1955, there were some precursors of what became ABS. U.S. Rubber took something of a different route (toward ABS development), and for a long time, there was contention over the patent issue. I think it was

largely resolved through cross-licensing one another,” Len said.

Marbon began marketing samples of its material in late 1955 and early 1956. (The first ABS produced by Marbon was numbered 10-840.)

“When we built the facility in West Virginia in 1956, the technology was still comparatively primitive. We had some pretty good ideas, and we were building on projections of what we thought would and wouldn’t work. We had some initial difficulties, as one does when new products are taken to market but, by the end of 1957, we had a pretty good product and it was getting generally accepted in the market.”

Marbon’s pilot project at the Gary plant led to the decision to build the new plant in Washington, West Virginia, just outside Parkersburg, where ABS

production began in earnest. In 1957, Len was sent to Washington to oversee the construction phase and start-up. A year later, he was appointed vice-president, manufacturing.

In 1962, Len became an American citizen.

“If I was going to live (there) and enjoy the benefits, I decided I may as well accept the responsibilities,” he said.

The boom begins Things really began to boom at Marbon. In just a few years, the West Virginia plant’s workforce grew from about 150 employees at start-up to more than 1,100, including the sales and engineering groups. Today, under GE, the plant employs about 500, as a part of GE’s total plastics business.

As demand for ABS grew domestically and on an international scale, Marbon began expanding. In Canada, ABS was marketed through an agency in Montreal. One of the agents was Don Stewart, who later would join Normar when Marbon took over its own sales efforts in Canada.

“Things were moving so fast during the ’60s that it’s all a bit of a blur now,” Len said. “We were growing very, very fast, and the petrochemicals and plastics business exploded from the late ’50s into the ’70s.

There were a lot of start-ups and a lot of facilities, all happening one after another.

“After we got the West Virginia plant (Woodmar) going, we built in California (Calmar) and in Canada (Normar). In ’68 we started a plant in Scotland; we had a joint venture going in Japan; we built Linmar in Ottawa (Illinois); and we had a big styrene plant down

Normar, summer, 1967. On the left are Leo Kowal (back to camera) and Bob Foster (on lift truck), chatting with an unidentified person. At the office entrance is Yvonne Langdon.

Leo’s white MG is in the foreground, beside Ed Kraushar’s Sprite, Carm Wood’s Plymouth and Bob Foster’s Ford convertible.

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Normar production floor, circa 1968. At left, on the lift truck is Hugh Potter; at the extruder control panel, far right, is Bruce McCauley.

Climbing the steps at the upper right is Lorne Hill.

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Raw materials feed lines, resin area, circa 1969-1970.

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Cobourg Mayor Jack Heenan.

in Louisiana. This was a period of high excitement and high activity, and we had a hell of a lot of fun.”

Normar holds a special place in Len’s heart. He remembers, despite the trials and tribulations faced in getting the plant operational, how the original staffers and the community worked hand-in-hand to launch the facility.

‘We should’ve levelled the place’ “The market wasn’t very big at that time, and the building had all sorts of deficiencies – a leaky roof, poor floors – there were lots of things wrong with it,” he said.

“In retrospect, we might have been better off had we just levelled the old building and started all over again, but we didn’t do that. We persevered even though we lost a lot of money for the Ralph Harrison, president, Custom Plastics.

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first year, but we had to be there. There was just too much potential business to turn over to the competition.”

Aside from his admiration for Cobourg Mayor Jack Heenan23, Len also praised Custom Plastics founder Ralph Harrison24, who went to bat for Normar with the town and township. Harrison’s company and Normar both started in 1965, and Custom Plastics was one of Normar’s first customers.

“Ralph was a pretty good fellow. He gave us good advice on hiring prospects and whom we should look to. The same was true about the community as a whole. Everybody wanted to help us get going.”

Marbon originally purchased the property for about $500,000. About the same amount was sunk into refurbishing and equipping the plant during its first 18 months. A lot of catching up would be required to get a decent return on Borg-Warner’s investment.

While Len closely monitored Normar’s progress from Parkersburg, Les Boysen was transferred from Gary to oversee start-up and begin hiring staff. Les Fraser, who’d operated the former gelatin plant on the site, was the fledgling plant’s first hire.

“Les (Fraser) knew a lot of people in town and was kind of a handy guy to have around,” Len said.

“We used him in personnel and PR. Les put on a very good appearance. He was always very properly dressed in his navy blazer. He looked very correct all of the time, like he’d just stepped out of the band box.”

Marbon began placing ads in newspapers and trade magazines, and Les Fraser began spreading the word around town that jobs were available. At the time, Cobourg enjoyed fairly high employment, making it somewhat difficult for Marbon to attract people away from their jobs.

But, one by one, prospective employees began turning up. Most were quite young, fresh out of high school or college, and a fair number had young families.

Posties and coal miners need not apply They’d heard (mostly through Les Fraser and his contacts) that good jobs with excellent benefits and promising futures were at their doorstep.

All a prospective employee had to do was make it through Borg-Warner’s screening process – sometimes easier said than done. Len Harvey explained: “We were very intensive in our screening of employees, and we had our own set of prejudices, which I won’t say were carried over into (Canada) but they were there nonetheless.

“For example, (in the States) we didn’t hire coal miners. We were even suspicious of people who worked for the railways, and we didn’t like hiring people who’d worked for the civil service – like the postal service. None of this was written down, of course, but we sort of had our own feelings about

Custom Plastics International, Cobourg, Ontario (RHW photo).

Les Fraser.

these things. This was a set of prejudices that we brought to the table.”

While Len didn’t specifically refer to the fact that most of the workers he’d described were unionized, he did suggest that perhaps some had a track record of perhaps not displaying the best of work ethics – at least not to Borg-Warner’s way of thinking.

“People can acquire a lot of bad habits, particularly in the railway industry and the postal service,” he said, quickly adding he reckoned the situation today probably is quite different.

“We also didn’t hire siblings because we’d been stung by that in our early days in Gary, so relatives were kind of a no-no. We wanted people that had a good work ethic; that we perceived were willing to work; who had a stable home situation, and we liked to have a mix of demographics. We wanted people who, when we hired them, would be retired in 10 years, and we wanted people who would be with us for 30 or 40 years. We thought a cross-mix was good.”

Len admitted that Borg-Warner Chemicals was, to put it mildly, “somewhat paternalistic … one has to be careful, and you don’t want to be too paternal in your outlook.” But he also said that he believed if the company hired a breadwinner “we not only had a responsibility to him, but we also had a responsibility to his family – and you don’t destroy breadwinners.”

Even though Normar would attain a certain degree of autonomy within the Borg-Warner organization, dismissals, while rare, could only be approved by head office.

“When (Normar) was started up, the plant manager didn’t have the authority to fire anybody,” Len said.

“He’d have to come to me, and that was the way it was at Marbon, pretty well until the day I left.”

Marbon’s “collective memory,” he explained, always had encouraged openness on the part of its managers, and the sharing of information with employees. But it frowned on “artificial perks” such as reserved parking spots for executives and “definitive pecking orders.”

If a job needed to get done, it got done – often with foremen and senior managers rolling up their sleeves and working right alongside front-line employees.

“When I was in Gary working in the maintenance department, I used to carry tools in the trunk of my car so I could go in at night and I wouldn’t have to call in a mechanic if we got into some kind of trouble,” Len said.

“It wasn’t that we were trying to save money; it was just easier to do it by yourself. That was one great thing about Marbon. In the good old days, if something went wrong, you’d just get the tools and the foreman to help you fix the damn thing.”

There was a family atmosphere at Marbon in Gary, something that carried over to Normar and, to a lesser degree, to Borg-Warner Chemicals’ other plants, as well. Information and ideas flowed freely and Len encouraged close communication among all staff.

“In those early days, however, we never would discuss financial results with line employees, and I’m not sure why. But, as time developed, we started

Normar, early 1970s.

experimenting with the concept that the more we told people, the more they would feel they were a part of the team.”

Sharing information By the 1970s, well ahead of most other large corporations, Borg-Warner was sharing its financial results and market positions with its employees. In addition to its annual reports to shareholders, it also produced special annual reports to employees, which included detailed explanations of the balance sheets, as well as discussions about business projections and competitive challenges.

In 1973, Marbon’s name was changed to BorgWarner Chemicals and, in 1975, Len was appointed president, a position he held until 1984, when he was promoted to executive vice-president of the BorgWarner Corporation.

Even though it now carried its parent’s name, the Marbon operation continued in relative independence. Soon after his appointment

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 2 3

as president, Len was reviewing the annual recommendations for pay increases, which generally were applied across the board.

“I had decided on the number (percentage increase) and was looking around for somebody to approve it, so I called the head office in Chicago and told them I wanted to give everybody at Marbon a four-and-a-half-per-cent increase, and they said, ‘Well, it’s your company; don’t ask us, we don’t know anything about that business.’ And that’s the way they were in many respects, which was good,” Len said.

“We were quite different from most of Borg-Warner’s business, so we were kind of left alone.”

There were marked differences between the two companies, he said. Borg-Warner’s culture, traditionally an automotive business, had a much smaller marketplace, while its subsidiary, BorgWarner Chemicals’ market was widespread. “When I eventually ended up in the corporate office, one of the things that surprised me was that we had more

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competitors than we did customers. That was a significant difference (from Marbon).”

Another major difference was that Marbon was non-union whereas most of Borg-Warner’s other businesses were highly unionized.

“I grew up in a General Motors town (St. Catharines, Ontario) and I was very familiar with (unionized environments), but we never had that sort of thing at Marbon,” Len said, adding that Marbon provided pay schemes, working conditions and benefits packages that were equal to or better than those offered in unionized shops.

When a new employee was brought on staff at Marbon, he or she would start at a pay rate equivalent to 70 per cent of what he or she would earn after two years’ service. When Len first joined Marbon, the company experimented with the idea of merit increases, where employees were evaluated by their supervisors and then awarded increases based on performance and productivity. This was something Len quickly did away with soon after he became president.

“I would never subscribe to merit pay for hourly employees,” he said. “Not that I didn’t think they were worth it – some of them – for special recognition. But, let’s face it, when you’ve got a facility of two or three hundred people, and you’ve got 10 supervisors and all these echelons of people,

BWC’s Grangemar Plant, Grangemouth, Scotland.

you’re not going to get fair and equitable judgments, to my way of thinking.”

Attempts were made to unionize Marbon, most notably by the United Auto Workers (UAW). Len recalls one such attempt at the West Virginia plant.

“We had this great electrician, who is still a good friend of mine. He was a strong union guy and, as part of the union drive, they were plastering up UAW stickers on all the office windows. I went over to him and said, ‘If you do that one more time, I’ll have the biggest sticker you’ve ever seen put across your car windshield and you’ll be an hour before you can go home.’ He just gave me a big grin and it all stopped.”

As Borg-Warner Chemicals expanded, each new plant would carry the genetic markers of the original Marbon operation – with one major exception, the plant in the Netherlands.

“I don’t think our culture ever really took in Holland,” Len said. “Maybe it was because we didn’t get enough local people in there.”

The plant in Grangemouth, Scotland, also was something of a disappointment, he said, but for an entirely different reason.

“We didn’t send our best people over there,” Len said. “That was a tragic mistake. If you’re going to start something up, send your very best people.

I watched that happen in Grangemouth and got involved in repairing the situation.”

That was not the situation with Normar. According to Len, two of Marbon’s “very best people” were involved in setting up Normar – Les Boysen and Bill Patient.

“We didn’t put Les or Bill up there because it was a stepping stone in their careers – to get their tickets punched as plant managers – but because they were the best guys for the job.”

While Normar was something of a “distinct society” within the Marbon organization, due in part to Canadian/American cultural differences, Len

believed Normar’s special personality was primarily a reflection of its locale.

“The Cobourg operation was a small unit, and it was in a small community, so people knew one another socially. When it came to picnics and curling teams, and even the churches they went to, there was a degree of familiarity. I think that was an important ingredient,” he said.

Normar’s size, however, also made it vulnerable.

In 1973, during the OPEC25-induced global energy

crisis, there was serious talk at head office about shutting down Normar.

“It’s honest to say there was a period in the 1970s when business fell off about 10 or 15 per cent, and people were talking about shutting it down. ‘Did we really need it?’ they were saying: ‘Well, (Normar’s) sort of like a flywheel; we’ll just shut it down and pick up the slack with our other facilities.’ I never subscribed to that. I was very supportive of Normar.

After all, it was making money.”

Normar family day picnic, Beverley Park, Welcome, Ontario, mid-1970s.

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Compassionate Companions

Full of humour

Les Boysen and Ruth Boysen-Spackman As the plane plummeted, Les Boysen nonchalantly turned to his terrified wife and said, “Ruth, what’s your bid?”

Ruth couldn’t believe her ears. Here they were aboard this tiny aircraft, in the middle of a dangerous storm, courting disaster. Her close friend Pug’s face was ashen. Pug had lost her first husband in an air crash.

“How can I think of what I’m going to bid at a time like this?” Ruth said sharply, glaring at Les. Moments later, the pilot managed to get the plane under control and the flight continued safely to Pittsburgh. Soon after landing, Pug and Ruth rushed into the terminal to check whether any commercial flights were available for the second leg of their trip.

When they found they’d have to wait three or four hours, they reluctantly decided to get back on BorgWarner’s plane.

All this happened nearly 40 years ago, but Ruth still remembers the incident as if it were yesterday. It said so much about her late husband, Normar’s first plant manager, Les Boysen.

Les and Ruth Boysen, 1980s.

Their bridge game was already under way. The foursome – the Boysens, Les and Ruth, and their friends, the Heenans, Jack and Pug – had just taken off from Toronto International Airport26 aboard Borg-Warner’s private airplane. They were on their way to a reception at head office in Parkersburg, but first would have to touch down in Pittsburgh to clear customs.

Soon after they reached cruising altitude, the skies darkened and the little plane began to buck in strong winds and driving rain. Then it took a short but sharp, gut-wrenching dive.

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Jack Heenan in 1970.

Ruth Boysen in 1970.

“He was always full of humour,” she said from her home in Naples, Florida, where she now lives with her husband, David Spackman. “Humour was Les’s way of relaxing, and he hoped it would make others relax.”

It was also one of the things that attracted her to Les back in October 1959, when she was an elementary school teacher in Gary, Indiana, and Les was working as a chemical engineer at Marbon Chemicals’ original plant in Gary.

Reporting to plant manager Jim Black, Les had been at Marbon for three years when he and Ruth had their first date. Before joining Marbon in November 1956, Les had worked for Pittsburgh Plate Glass in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, after graduating in 1949 from the University of Iowa in Iowa City. Les and Ruth married relatively late in life – he was 37 and she was 30. Les liked to say the reason he waited so long to get married was that while “living alone was hell, it would have been a far worse hell with the wrong woman.”

Ruth clearly didn’t fall into that category. She and Les hit it off right from the start – after all, on their first date Les couldn’t help but notice she was wearing a fashionable pair of spike heel shoes. Ever the romantic, Les said, “Did you know that the plastic in those heels is made at my plant?”

Ten months later, on August 5, 1960, they were married. The same day Les got a call from BorgWarner Chemicals’ president Bob Shattuck. Les was to be transferred to BWC’s Woodmar plant in Parkersburg.

“We had already purchased a lot and contracted to have a home built in Gary when the news came that morning,” Ruth recalled. “It was a bit upsetting at first, but it was a promotion for Les and we took it in stride.”

The newlyweds honeymooned for two weeks in Vermont, and were set to go house hunting in Parkersburg in anticipation of Les’s September 1 start date. But that would be delayed. Les was urgently

needed back in Gary. There was a move afoot to unionize the plant.

Marbon’s senior management agreed that if anyone could persuade the men not to sign union cards, it would be Les. He had a special knack The Boysen kids, late 1960s. From left: when it came John, Carolyn and Richard. to dealing with people, and he was well liked by everyone at the plant. Mission accomplished, Les and Ruth finally moved to Parkersburg.

Les’s combination of superior people and leadership skills coupled with his strong work ethic were precisely what Woodmar needed. Much like BWC president Len Harvey, Les wouldn’t hesitate to pitch in on the line whenever things went wrong. He fit the BWC mold perfectly, and early on had been earmarked for a position as plant manager.

“Les always worked long hours,” Ruth said. “He put his whole heart and soul into his job, but he loved it.”

His men respected him and knew they could always turn to him if there were problems, whether on the job or at home.

“One time in Parkersburg, an employee’s 12-yearold son committed suicide. He’d hanged himself in the basement,” Ruth said. “I can recall going to the funeral home and hearing Les saying to the father, ‘You stay with your wife as long as you need to; she needs you now much more than I do.’ I think the fact that he stood for things like that meant a lot to all of the employees. Being kind to people really works.”

Beginning in the mid-1960s, when Borg-Warner Chemicals began its whirlwind international

expansion, Les was selected by Bob Shattuck and Len Harvey to scout out and start up BWC’s Canadian operation. As far as they were concerned, he was the obvious choice.

While Les lived in a motel in Cobourg, Ruth readied their young family for the move. Their oldest, Carolyn, was five; John was two, and Richard was just five months old. Les flew back to drive them to Cobourg and to their new home on Hamilton Drive, not far from the plant.

No sooner had the movers finished unloading the furniture than there was a knock at the front door.

It was the Boysens’ new next-door neighbour.

Spaghetti casserole and Jell-O

The Boysen family, 1980s.

“She brought our complete meal for the dinner,” Ruth said. “I was so impressed at the warmth and thoughtfulness. She brought over a spaghetti casserole, a Jell-O mold and her coffee pot ready to be plugged in. We felt very much at home from the moment we arrived.”

Les and his first hire, Leslie Fraser, had been hard at work lining up new employees and working with contractors to get the plant into shape. Ruth was busy arranging furniture and taking care of the kids. She was about to finish unpacking some boxes when Les came home for lunch. “Don’t start unpacking those boxes yet,” he told her. “The town wants to charge us an exorbitant amount for water and I don’t know whether we’ll be staying.”

That’s when she and Les first met Cobourg mayor Jack Heenan and his wife, Pug. “Jack really wanted the plant to work and finally everything went ahead,” Ruth said.

For the next two years Les and the small team of Normar pioneers struggled to get the plant operational. Their first order didn’t come until late in 1966. Les and the others were working around the clock. No one even thought about vacations – except Ruth. The family hadn’t had any time away together in more than two years.

“I told Les that he needed to take a vacation but he said he couldn’t, there was no one to take over. I told him to get someone from Parkersburg, and I started to make vacation plans. We went to the Thousand Islands for a week and had a great time.”

Les proved to be as popular at Normar as he had been at Gary and Parkersburg. He and Ruth regularly hosted Christmas parties, barbecues and picnics and encouraged employees to be active in the community.

By 1969 things were running smoothly at the plant.

Not so at Gary. There’d been an explosion and one of the employees had been badly burned. Les sensed he’d be getting a phone call.

“As soon as Les heard about the explosion he said they’d have to get a new plant manager. He was right,” said Ruth.

The Boysens returned to Gary on March 1, 1969. But their stay would be short. Two years later Borg-Warner Chemicals decided to close the Gary plant.

“When Les learned they were going to shut it down he called (BWC

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 2 7

president) Len Harvey and told him he didn’t want to be there when that happened. There was too much emotion. He’d known all the guys there from way back and didn’t want to be the one to tell them.”

In August 1971, Les was back at Parkersburg, this time in a temporary position as assistant plant manager. A year later he took over as plant manager, a position he held for five years until his appointment as corporate manager, health and safety, responsible for all of BWC’s health and safety programs.

“Les was always a very safety-conscious man, both at home and at work. Safety was a big issue at BorgWarner, but he didn’t enjoy that work as much as when he was plant manager – especially at Normar.

He always looked upon his years there with great joy.

He looked upon it as his baby.”

Les retired July 1, 1987, a year before the GE takeover. That summer he relaxed, spending much of his time playing golf. Ruth organized a surprise retirement party for him in Parkersburg that fall. “He was so overwhelmed by the party. There were more than a hundred people there. He was just so thrilled,” Ruth said.

Les had always wanted to take a cruise, but because there never seemed to be enough time and because he was afraid of getting seasick, they’d never really given it serious consideration. However, in January 1988 Ruth booked a Caribbean cruise aboard the Norway, at the time one of the world’s largest cruise ships. “I’m so glad I did that because we had a wonderful time. But, in the middle of February, Les started having problems with his throat. He had difficulty swallowing.”

Later that month there was concern Les had contracted ALS27, “Lou Gehrig’s Disease.” After a series of tests and visits to various clinics in Houston and Cleveland, the diagnosis was confirmed – on August 5, 1988, the Boysens’ wedding anniversary.

Les’s health deteriorated rapidly and, suffering severe breathing problems, in mid-October was rushed to hospital where he was put on a respirator. He remained in hospital on a respirator for more than two years until his death on September 2, 1990.

2 8 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Out of the Band Box Leslie Fraser By the beginning of February 1966, Normar’s little start-up team was beginning to run out of midnight oil. They’d been doing double duty for several months, trying to get the plant prepared to officially begin production.

Purchasing manager and all-around-administrator, Les Fraser, was logging more than 80 hours a week. Aside from making business contacts, he also was responsible for handling accounting, payroll, staff recruitment, public relations and training. His secretary, Barb Acorn, was run ragged trying to keep up with Les’s breakneck pace. But she, along with Les, quality control manager Ed Kraushar and plant manager Les Boysen were charged with energy. These were exciting times but, without additional help, they’d soon deplete their dwindling supply of adrenaline.

Les Fraser outlined the situation in a memo to Les Boysen, dated February 3, 1966, asking for permission to hire a “male clerk” and a “female clerktypist.”

“We have now reached the stage where our office facilities and the arrival of more desks and chairs within the next few days would permit the full use of the two additional staff,” he wrote. “The sharing out of the present work load, and the easing of pressures of work to be done, on all three of us in the office is now timely.”

He went on to itemize his reasons for needing additional staff:

On recruitment: “The high standard of personnel to be hired, the full employment in this area and the recurring postponements of hiring dates entail far more time spent on recruiting than what I have budgeted for in my mind last November and December (1965).”

On purchasing: “With all the much appreciated help I am receiving from yourself and Ed Kraushar, I do not have nearly enough time available during business hours to do justice to this function on my own.”

On accounting: “The comparatively small amount of accounting work is taking up more of my time than it would if someone would be able to devote time to it as a matter of routine. It would not be right to delegate this work to Barbara (Acorn) under the present circumstances.”

On payroll: “As soon as, or preferably before, we start hiring hourly-paid employees, we should have one of the staff fully trained in pay procedures and in the relevant personnel practices.”

On order service: “The TWX (Telex machine) is scheduled for the end of this month. By the time we are ready to ship our first few thousand pounds of material, we should have the clerk trained in using the machine and be well conversant with our procedures.

“Both this and the above job should come as additional new jobs to our staff, after they are well settled down in the routine of purchasing and accounting functions.”

On organization and training: “I should be able to find time available to put down on paper organization and training programs and procedures and devote time to the training of the people to whom we want to delegate.

“Presently, the 80 hours a week that I am spending in the office (are) literally not enough to cope with all the jobs that you and I agree are of first priority, because everything we have to do is of first priority.

In order to fulfill our determination to start Normar well organized as closely resembling as possible the organization of Woodmar, we need more staff than the proportional production capacity of the two plants.

“The two people I am asking for now are the absolute minimum, and we need them right now. We shall need another clerk as soon as we commence regular manufacturing. To take on temporary help now could possibly mean an even greater workload on me right at this moment, without very much compensating benefit to the overall picture.

“As a temporary measure I would also ask for your permission to work Barbara on as much overtime as she is willing, subject to the necessity of critically urgent jobs of typing and other work, the maximum to be 15 hours a week.”

It would be another six weeks before Les got his wish and another employee was brought on staff – Yvonne Langdon, who started work as a secretary on March 16, 1966. Rick Whaley was hired two months after that, along with George Austin, Bill Finley and Graydon Hilsden. A slew of employees followed, with eight starting on the same day, June 6, 1966 – the “6/6/66 crew,” as they came to be known – Jack Adams, Alex Barry, Lorne Hill, Doug Irwin, Ed Jackson, Roger Pearce, Wayne Rusaw and Roy 1

2

Sherwood. Three more were hired a week later: Don Ford, Dave Loucks and Carl West; and three more the week after that: Merv Thibeau, Willis Douglas and Ron Mitchell.

Toward the end of the summer of ’66, two more employees were added: Ray Blakely on August 15 and Al Harnden on August 24, bringing the total staff complement to 29, including Les Fraser and Les Boysen. A year later, Normar’s staff would double in size.

Aside from Les Boysen, at the time Les Fraser was the only other employee with any real business experience. He was basically a one-man band at Normar. But Les was used to challenges and hard work. While still in university, Les left his native Hungary in 1940 to escape the German invasion.

He was Jewish and knew full well he’d face intense persecution – or worse – if he had continued to stay in Hungary. He fled to England and entered the London School of Economics. He met his future wife, Magda, also a Hungarian, while she was teaching at a small school in Yorkshire. They were married in 1942, two years before he joined the British Army and served with the Allies’ occupation forces in Germany. By demobilization in 1946, he held the rank of captain.

Somewhere along the line, he anglicized his last name from Freisager to Fraser.

Soon after he left the army, he began work at P. Leiner & Sons, a chemical company in England. The company had just expanded and was building a plant in Canada. In 1958, Les was sent to Cobourg to 3

4

become the plant’s general manager. However, within a few years, Leiner pulled up stakes and moved its entire Canadian operation to Brazil. Les stayed behind.

After all, he’d put down roots in Cobourg, and he and Magda were active in the community. Les was on the board of the Cobourg District General Hospital. Magda served with the hospital’s auxiliary. Les also served with the Rotary Club, the Northumberland and Newcastle Board of Education and the Cobourg YMCA. Brazil was not for the Frasers.

When Marbon Chemicals bought the Normar site’s property from Leiner in 1965, Les more or less came with the premises. As things turned out, keeping Les around was one of the best decisions the company ever made.

Les and Magda had adapted well to life in small town Ontario, and understood how to ease newcomers into the community – one that, in the early 1960s, wasn’t particularly noted for its ability to accept outsiders at first introduction. Les and Magda were the conduits for Marbon’s transplanted American managers. They’d established many social, political and business contacts, all of which would

5

1 - Al Harnden.

2 - George Austin.

3 - Ron Mitchell.

4 - Ray Blakeley.

5 - Yvonne Langdon-Hunt.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 2 9

prove extremely useful to Borg-Warner’s imported American managers. He knew where to find people and suppliers. He knew how to sell. And he knew how to run a business, having worked for five other large organizations before joining Normar.

Dr. Thomas Hawke, a local veterinarian who knew the Frasers, also lent a hand in warming the community to its new residents. “As a member of the Chamber of Commerce and interested in the progress of the community, I conveyed to them (Marbon/Borg-Warner managers) that we collectively as business people thought that what we really needed were leaders who could help develop a progressive community,” Dr. Hawke said. “What we needed were bosses who would contribute to the community, become interested in the organizations and provide leadership in the various organizations and churches in Cobourg.”

Dr. Hawke’s advice – and that of Les Fraser – was well heeded by virtually all of the plant managers, as well as other supervisory personnel. There wasn’t a social activity, fundraising event or business function that went unattended by Normar people. While selfserving to a degree in that it raised awareness of Normar’s products, this spirit of community service became an integral part of Normar’s makeup, and it continues to this day.

Mixing floor, Henschel deck; from left, Bill Harvey (clerk) and Jim Williams (compounding operator), early 1980s.

3 0 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

BWC treats people as people According to Les Fraser, Borg-Warner was head and shoulders above any of his previous employers when it came to its attitude concerning employees. Interviewed in the January-February 1978 issue of Chemline, BWC’s corporate newspaper, Les probably described Borg-Warner’s culture as well as anyone.

BWC, he said, had a “different attitude or philosophy than other companies. They have a wonderful policy toward people; first and foremost, Borg-Warner Chemicals treats people as people. This happens very seldom in most organizations. It is a tremendous plus. It is by no means an effortless behaviour; I’m convinced it’s emanating from top management, otherwise it just wouldn’t happen.

“I think people who have worked for other companies realize this more than our young employees who have had very little exposure to other places of work. Young employees may jump to the conclusion that this is how it is everywhere.

“I’m sure that a number of other companies and management teams have tried to attain this attitude, but failed after the first hurdles; failed because too much effort and too many trade-offs were required.

Borg-Warner Chemicals has not shrunk from trading off valuable time, effort, expense and everything else to achieve this attitude of treating people as people without regard to position or rank or status.”

Ed Kraushar, Normar’s first quality control manager, shared a duplex with Les while the two of them were undergoing training in Parkersburg. Ed remembers Les as being a “quirky kind of guy,” but that he was a “top gentleman, very easy to work with, and everybody just kind of liked him … but he was a different kind of person. When we were roommates in Parkersburg, he’d be up at five in the morning hard at work. And when I went to bed at 11 o’clock or midnight, he’d still be working. He only required four or five hours of sleep,” Ed said. “Les insisted on keeping butter in the freezer, and butter was the only thing he’d put on spaghetti.”

Back in Cobourg, almost every day Les would go for a swim in Lake Ontario, beginning no later than May 24, when the ice was barely off the surface of the water.

At the plant’s first Christmas party in 1965, Les Boysen noticed that his purchasing agent had taken up smoking. As Ed recalls, Fraser was chain-smoking at the party. “Boysen says to him, ‘Les, you’re smoking constantly. When did you start smoking?’ Les told him that every year between Christmas and New Year’s he smoked non-stop and never at any other time. Boysen says, ‘I hope you don’t run your sex life the same way.’”

During Normar’s early days, Les was on the job day and night, week in, week out. Then, as the plant eventually found its sea legs, his job settled into a less demanding routine and he was able to spend time with his grandchildren, and take regular vacations. His son, Dr. John Fraser, was on staff at University Hospital in London, Ontario. Beginning in 1974, Magda and Les would spend several weeks each year in Italy’s northern lake district near Gardone Val Trompia, about 85 kilometres east and slightly north of Milan. In 1979, even though Les had been diagnosed with angina, the couple decided once again to return to their favourite vacation spot. On June 13, shortly after their arrival, Les was having some difficulties and went to see a local doctor. While the doctor could find nothing seriously wrong, he checked Les into a small hospital. Les died a few hours later.

Magda was unable to get a call through to her son, so she called Borg-Warner’s sales office in Milan and they were able to reach Normar’s controller, Ron Sargent, who relayed the bad news to Dr. Fraser. Ron and plant manager Leo Kowal continued to assist in getting messages to and from Gardone until John was able to fly to Italy. Les was buried in Gardone on June 16, 1979.

The Road to Hong Kong

rhw photos

Ed Kraushar

Antique radios: they’re everywhere in Ed Kraushar’s home along the Trent River near Campbellford, Ontario – dozens upon dozens of beautifully restored radio consoles. Many of them date back to the 1920s – among them, Northern Electric, Philco, RCA, Crosley, Sparton, Deforest and, of course, General Electric models; and tucked away in his repair shop are hundreds of rare vacuum tubes and thousands of parts, wires and other early radio paraphernalia. Strolling from room to room through Ed’s sprawling home, one might expect to hear the eerie voice of Lamont Cranston (The Shadow): “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?”

– or, perhaps George Burns and Gracie Allen: “Say goodnight, Gracie”; Fibber McGee & Molly: “T’ain’t funny, McGee”; or Clayton Moore as the Lone Ranger: “Hi-yo, Silver!” – all famous names and lines of the golden age of radio.

Most of Ed’s radio sets are in mint condition. Others are in various stages of restoration. Ed’s not sure exactly how many radios he owns. He keeps adding to his collection, finding new treasures at auctions, garage sales and flea markets.

Collecting and restoring radios is now his passion, almost as much as the plastics industry was during his 30-year career at Normar.

Ed was the second employee to be hired at the Cobourg plant – just after Les Fraser and just before Barb Acorn.

He joined October 1, 1965, and, at the time, was the only new hire with any real practical experience in the plastics business.

Born in Winnipeg in 1939, Ed moved with his parents to Kenora, Ontario, in 1950, where his father, Edward, who’d originally been in the printing ink business, was an RCA dealer. Five years later, Ed’s dad returned to the printing business and moved to Scarborough, Ontario. After high school, Ed took night courses in chemical technology at Ryerson Institute of Technology.28 At the urging of his father, late in 1959 Ed began hunting around for a job. When he visited the local employment office he had two choices – drive a bread truck for $80 a week, or work as a lab technician at Monsanto for $50 a week. He chose Monsanto. But that job lasted only a year. “The fume conditions were really bad,” Ed said. “I’d find myself coughing all the time.”

Ed left Monsanto but soon found a healthier job at Ferro Enamels Canada Limited in Oakville.

Ferro produced porcelain enamels, ceramics glazes and polyester gel coats for Fibreglas boats and

thermoplastics colorants. Ed started there in 1960 as a lab technician and, after four years, finished up as supervisor of the colour lab, when he left to join Argo Plastics as manager of the colour lab in nearby Brampton. It was while Ed was with Argo that he first came into regular contact with Marbon Chemicals, through its Harrisons Crosfield sales agency, Dillon Chemical.

Argo regularly purchased Marbon’s E-1000 extrusion material, a straw-coloured pelletized ABS, and one of the first-ever commercial ABS products. Argo’s customers used E-1000 to fabricate refrigerator shells, among other things. The ABS was shipped by truck to Argo from the U.S. In the spring of 1965, Ed was scanning the financial section of the newspaper and noticed a story about Marbon/Borg-Warner taking an option of a parcel of land near Cobourg. He’d been keeping an eye out for work with a larger firm and, knowing Borg-Warner’s excellent reputation, fired off a résumé to its head office in Parkersburg, West Virginia. A short while later he was invited down for an interview and colour tests. “I was quite impressed with the plant, and that was the kind of facility that I wanted to get into – something nice and fancy,” he said. “They offered me a job in September 1965 and I started on October 1. I went to Parkersburg for three months’ training, then returned to Canada just before Christmas.”

In Parkersburg, Ed shared a duplex with Les Fraser, who also was undergoing training. They both worked day and night, trying to absorb as much as they could about Borg-Warner’s plastics business. Ed spent time working on all three shifts, in the colour and quality control labs. At the end of his training, he was appointed quality control manager and sent back to Canada. Ed was living in Cooksville (now part of Mississauga) at the time and still hadn’t seen the Cobourg plant. He’d rented a house in Cobourg and while waiting for the moving van to arrive he drove down to take a look at his new place of work.

“I got the shock of my life,” he said. “I’d expected to see some sort of a facility, something

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 3 1

like Parkersburg’s. I’d worked in several plastics plants and had been in quite a few others. I didn’t expect to see a Quonset29 hut with both ends blown out of it.”

No trespassing

rhw photo

The hut served as the temporary main office and was equipped with a smelly, oil-fired space heater.

Everything else was either still under construction or being renovated.

Ed had been asked to touch bases with start-up manager Les Boysen and construction engineer Al Early but, when he walked onto the property, one of the contractors collared him and told him he was trespassing. “The contractor gave me hell and told me I had no business being there. He wanted to run me off the site.” After a few tense moments, Ed finally was allowed to meet with his new boss.

He strolled toward the hut, shaking his head and wondering whether he’d made the right decision.

The place was a mess.

“The contractor said something to the effect that if I thought the place looked bad now, I should have seen it when the construction crew first got there.

He said that everything two inches down from the ceiling was covered in bird crap. I said ‘two inches down?’ And he said, ‘Silly, birds don’t crap up!’”

Ed Kraushar.

3 2 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Winter was fast approaching, but the crews were making fairly good progress. By early 1966, the plant was in good enough shape to begin installation of the extrusion equipment – the three cast-off extruders that Marbon had sent up. While two of the extruders eventually were put into some semblance of working order, the third was basically a write-off.

Les Boysen managed to get approval to buy a couple of newer models – Canadian-manufactured Dansons – from Toronto.

The new extruders were from a company owned

by Barnett “Barney” Danson who, in 1968, was elected as a Liberal Member of Parliament (York North), and served under Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau as defence minister until the Liberal defeat in 1979.

Before entering politics, Danson also served as president of the Canadian Plastics Association.

While the new equipment and colour lab were being installed, Ed began putting together training programs and ordering equipment for the lab.

In the meantime, as the deadline for production approached, Les Boysen and Les Fraser were hard at work hiring staff. Some of the first to be hired were assigned to the lab – Bill Finley, George Austin, Elwood Fenton, Hugh Crook and Graydon Hilsden.

More than a month was spent doing colour-matching training. “The new hires had no experience in plastics to speak of,” Ed said. “Bill Finley had worked for a while at the GE Plastics (molding) plant in Cobourg, but certainly none of them would have had much lab experience. They were all selected primarily on their colour aptitudes.”

In the early days, colour testing was done using a kit containing 98 tiles of various colours, also varying in shades. The new hires had to match the tiles visually, lining them up like dominoes. Not all were up to the test. Several dozen applicants went through the process at start-up. Only a half dozen or so made it past the first testing program.

“Their colour aptitudes were very good. They could tell you when it (the colour) wasn’t right.

But what took a lot of training was what had to

be done when the colour wasn’t right and what we had to do to make it right. The right decisions had to be made to avoid holding up production,” Ed explained. The original colour matches were done in Parkersburg. A formula was then sent up to Normar’s lab where a pre-match was done to factor in differences in the resins and pigments, which were not always the same as what was called for in the formula. The first few months of 1966 flew by. Ed and the rest of the new crew were working virtually non-stop.

Ed’s home was on Hamilton Drive, just a short hop from the plant. Les Boysen lived three doors down from Ed. Whenever Ed had to go into the plant after hours, he always made a point of noisily upshifting his little Austin Healey Sprite as he passed Les’s house, “just so he could hear me heading into the plant.”

After the famous first order from Custom Plastics, one of Marbon’s first major clients was General Motors in Oshawa. While all the plastics’ colours had been pre-approved by GM’s head office in Detroit, the Oshawa materials approval manager, Larry Darnell, wasn’t content to simply run his production lines on the Detroit masters’ say-so.

“I spent a fair amount of time with GM,” Ed said. “(Darnell) had his own impression of what he wanted to see. In many cases, a 100-per-cent match to what was accepted in the States was not acceptable (in Oshawa). He wanted to see how the whole works blended together – the material the steering wheel was made of, the vinyl interior fabric. He was looking for the overall appearance.

He was pretty meticulous, but good to work with.”

Northern Electric (now Nortel Networks) was another of Marbon’s earliest customers – and equally as demanding as GM. Soon after Northern signed on, Marbon had to purchase injectionmolding equipment for the lab, as well as a Hunter colorimeter, so that colours specifications could be expressed numerically. “Northern and the automotive people wanted to see actual hardmolded articles,” Ed said.

By 1967, ABS feedstock for black DWV pipe was fast becoming one of Normar’s more important product lines. As the DWV business expanded, so too did Normar’s testing programs, requiring heavy-duty impact and low-temperature testing equipment for finished pipe. The pipe was subject to rigorous specifications as set by the Canadian Standards Association (CSA).

Stringent standards Ed was Normar’s designated CSA member, a post he held until two years after his retirement.

He also served as a member of the Society of Plastics Industry of Canada (SPI). Whenever a new product was about to go onto the market, it first had to undergo a standards evaluation process.

Initially, CSA would approach SPI to establish a multidisciplinary task force to write suggested industry standards. The task force included manufacturers, end-users and raw materials suppliers.

Canadian standards, Ed explained, in some cases were more stringent than those in the United States.

While initial standards set for DWV pipe in Canada remained constant, some in the U.S. were allowed to slacken, something that proved to be something of a benefit to Canadian plastics feedstock producers and product manufacturers. “One of the things that people in the States had a hard time grasping was that the high standards set by the CSA gave (Canadian) manufacturers the best non-tariff trade barrier one could ever think of,” he said. However, he was quick to add the CSA would “get very irate if you discussed their standards in commercial terms other than end-use requirements.”

As standards deteriorated for DWV pipe produced in the U.S., manufacturers were able to produce a cheaper but, by Canadian standards, inferior product. “That didn’t help the image of ABS in the States,” Ed said, adding that polyvinylchloride (PVC) pipe ended up being the preferred material south of the border.

“Keeping the standards high here kept the business Canadian. Had we gone to the standards in the United States, especially as the border started opening up, it would’ve just put the Canadian (DWV) pipe industry out of business.”

The irony of the situation was not lost on BorgWarner’s U.S.-based executives. After all, the fact that Canada had heavy duties in place for the importation of plastics feedstock was a major determining factor in BWC’s original decision to open a plant in Canada. The high standards demanded by the CSA practically ensured a monopoly in Canada for Borg-Warner’s ABS, especially its DWV feedstock. DWV pipe produced in Canada, exclusively with Borg-Warner ABS, was resilient, durable, was able to withstand frigid Canadian winters and generally was a far superior product to similar ABS pipe produced in the United States.

By the end of 1967 the North American plastics revolution was in full swing. Billions of dollars were being invested to construct mammoth plants

in the United States. Smaller operations were being forced out of business or were being gobbled up by the giants.

Size isn’t everything While the pace of the plastics industry also was in the midst of a boom in Canada, size was not always an indicator of high-quality performance. Normar fit this mold perfectly. Its major customers didn’t always need or want large volumes of ABS. Often, customers such as Northern Electric and the big automakers wanted small, test batches of material.

It made no economic sense for the giant U.S. plants to set up a run for a particular type of pellet when the customer really only needed a couple of hundred pounds or so. This was a special niche market. And one in which Normar did exceedingly well. It also would prove to be key to Normar’s survival.

“People like GM, for example, would buy millions and millions of pounds (of product), but they still

Borg-Warner annual report covers.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 33

Don Stewart, centre, at Normar picnic; Ernie Everingham at left.

wanted small batches … and we simply couldn’t tell them they had to buy a whole truckload.”

Late in 1968, it was decided Normar needed its own resin plant. It, too, would be relatively small in comparison with Borg-Warner’s other resin production facilities, but it would more than adequately serve the growing demand within the Canadian market.

It also would allow Normar’s people to have greater control over supply and quality. With the new resin plant also came the need for expanded lab facilities and new equipment including a larger injection machine and a “wet” chemical lab, allowing for more sophisticated testing.

Once the resin plant was up and running, Les Boysen’s role more or less was coming to an end. His talents were needed elsewhere. Bill Patient took over as plant manager in March 1969. “Bill and I got along very well,” Ed said. “I have a great deal of respect for him and enjoyed working for him. He took over a plant that was running very well, thanks to Les Boysen. Les was the kind of guy that wanted to know everything you were doing. He wanted to have his fingers in everything. With Bill, you kind of did your own thing. You didn’t want him to have any nasty surprises, but you didn’t have him looking over your shoulder all the time.”

34 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Ed still chuckles about the quips about Bill’s rather short stature. He recalls a story about Bill attending a meeting in Parkersburg during which he was boasting about Normar’s exceptional performance. One wag at the back of the room piped up, “Gee, Bill, the way things are going at Normar, you’re walking around just like you’re five feet tall!”

“When Bill first came to Cobourg, he seemed a little touchy about comments like that but, believe me, when he left, that was long out of his system,” Ed said.

Bill was instrumental in ushering Normar into its new era of full production. He was sharply focused on business issues and guided Normar’s people toward a clearer understanding of customer service and quality assurance. While Bill’s term as plant manager was brief – just a year – he, as much as anyone from the Borg-Warner enterprise, was responsible for imprinting Borg’s culture onto Normar’s overall operations. Veteran Normar employees still remember him with fondness.

It was also during Bill’s tenure that Borg-Warner created its own Canadian sales force. Marbon hired many of the sales agents who previously handled BWC’s account through its agency of record, Dillon Chemical. Don Stewart was the first to join the Marbon team at Normar, early in 1968. He was appointed Marbon’s Canadian sales manager. Dillon’s technical service engineer, Sid Cowan, also joined in 1968, but died suddenly that year. The other three reps were: Don Jowett, whose territory took in Toronto and western Ontario; George Grover, who concentrated primarily on the pipe industry in and around Toronto and Eastern Ontario; and Jean-Pierre Brunet, who was responsible for Quebec.

“Borg wanted its own sales force and no longer wanted relationships with sales agents, because of the commission charges,” Ed said. “At the time (BorgWarner) broke the relationship, these people became surplus to Dillon. Their job was handling the Borg product. So it was kind of seamless.”

Once the resin plant was in full operation, Ed’s role at Normar changed. Instead of immediately

filling the vacancy created by Sid Cowan’s death, Borg-Warner sent a number of technical service personnel up from Parkersburg, each serving temporary assignments. “People were coming up from the States to put fires out. The customers weren’t really happy about that. Things were just becoming a big mess,” Ed said. “Bill Patient came to me and said I should seriously consider taking the job as a tech service engineer. That wasn’t really what I did but, pre-Borg and as QC (Quality Control) manager, I had a lot of customer contact, and so it wasn’t that big a stretch.”

Ed sensed there was an ulterior motive to Bill’s offer. “Bill felt that I was well suited to that job and that if I passed up the opportunity, I might regret it in the future.” Ed took the job as technical service engineer for Canada, initially reporting to Don Stewart, but later was blended into Borg’s technical service group in the States, where he reported to a succession of American managers.

“The tech service people were a great bunch of guys – very experienced, but very opinionated. They wouldn’t take crap from anybody. (It was) a great place to put up-and-coming managers to either sink or swim.”

Cheek by jowl Technical service engineers basically were highly specialized sales people, and crucial to Borg-Warner’s overall operation. They worked cheek by jowl with customers, adapting raw materials to customer requirements and assisting in equipment design and new product development. They also were responsible for comprehensive customer training programs, helping customers understand how the plastics business worked.

A little uneasy about the move at first, nonetheless Ed quickly took to his new position. “I enjoyed it immensely. At first, I didn’t think I would because we were up to our ears in trouble with pipe compounds.

There were times when things ran perfectly well, and there were other times when our material just

couldn’t hack it as far as the CSA was concerned.

Being a tech service engineer was a tough job then.

You’d talk to the plant people about a problem and, of course, from their point of view, nothing was wrong. You’d talk to the customers and nothing was right. You were kind of on your own.”

Quoted in Chemline, Ed described how to use diplomacy in the face of adversity, when it came to customer service: “Upset customers must be handled carefully.

Sometimes humour is the best way. I was confronted by a new plant manager who was having problems with his product. After having exhausted all possible remedies, he said, ‘Obviously your product is garbage; now what do you plan to do?’ My reply: ‘This is where we give you a kiss on the cheek, a pat on the tail and buy you lunch.’ He laughed at that and asked, ‘Where do you start?’ My reply: ‘I’ll buy the lunch, and our salesman here will handle the rest.’

This may sound stupid, but it turned a very difficult situation around. This man became very pro-BorgWarner.”

Most of Ed’s time was spent working with General Motors, Northern Telecom and the pipe manufacturers. He also was involved in organizing customer-training programs. “We used to put on major one- or two-day design seminars. We’d rent ballrooms in many of the larger hotels in Ottawa and Toronto, and invite a whole slew of customers.

There’d be intensive design seminars – how to mold the product, how to use the product, how to become more efficient and, hopefully, improve their profitability – the whole works.”

BWC’s technical service staff also worked with endusers. They’d examine a new product’s design and prepare critiques. “This was not for performance or functionality,” Ed explained. “If it was a food blender, we weren’t concerned about whether it would blend, but what defects might occur or how it could be manufactured more economically. We’d then work with the tool designer and mold-makers in designing a proper mold to get the utmost productivity and quality out of the product.”

By 1969, Ed was on the road a lot, spending three or four nights a week out of town. As was the case with most of BWC’s technical service staff, Ed no longer had or needed an office at the plant. He worked out of his home. “Family life suffered severely because I’d be off and gone Monday morning and not back until Friday night.”

As BWC’s business expanded worldwide, Ed was selected to service customers in South America. In 1979 he was sent to Brazil for two or three weeks.

Then Ecuador was added to his technical service calls; and Columbia; and Trinidad. He’d be gone for weeks at a time, working with customers in developing new businesses and setting up factories.

Ed Kraushar in South America after a “slight mishap”.

The great leap forward Toward the end of 1979, Ed’s biggest and most important assignment began to take shape. BorgWarner had been working hard to attract business

Ed and several Chinese customers.

from the People’s Republic of China and had invited a delegation of Chinese government and industry officials to visit BWC’s Parkersburg operation. Ed was invited to participate.

In 1979, BWC sent a couple of technical service engineers to China for a month to lay the groundwork for future business opportunities. The following year, Ed was sent to China for six weeks to work with the rapidly expanding textile and electronics industries. Neil Nichols had been BWC’s main rep in China and primarily was responsible for developing the company’s business with the Chinese. Thanks to Neil, BWC’s Cycolac was the preferred ABS in China. Over time, however, Neil’s frequent visits were becoming physically taxing and his home life was deteriorating. Roly Coppack, Neil and Ed’s boss in Parkersburg, recommended Ed for the job.

In a letter to senior executive Joe Sakach, in November 1984, Coppack outlined his rationale for Ed’s reassignment: “Ed wants the job. He’s very popular in China and his empathy for them is obvious to both sides.

He would live in Hong Kong with his wife and 16year-old son. Although he would be a BWC-Hong Kong employee, I’d make sure he watched out for our interests in Taiwan and Hong Kong. I think we should do it.”

“My trips over to China became more and more frequent,” Ed said. “The company recognized that I really performed well in a Third World environment.

I wasn’t the ‘ugly American.’ I used to like to rub it in that there were a lot of places that I could go without a visa that the Americans couldn’t and,

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 35

BWC’s Ube plant, Japan, early 1970s.

finally, I was spending so much time there that in January 1985 I moved to Hong Kong.”

Ed’s title was changed to the rather wordy “application development engineering manager,” ADE for short. While he and his three Hong-KongChinese technical service engineers exclusively serviced the mainland Chinese market, BorgWarner’s joint-venture company, Ube Marbon, officially was responsible for Japan, Taiwan and Malaysia.

A natural talent Perhaps it was because he was Canadian, or perhaps it was because he had a natural talent for the “soft sell,” but, either way, Ed was making inroads with

36 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

the Chinese where others, particularly Americans, could not. Glad-handing and brash, high-pressure tactics didn’t work with the Chinese. In addition, virtually all of the orders were funnelled through the state-owned Sino-Chem Company. There were no competitors in China’s tightly controlled Maoist society.

Many of BWC’s competitors underestimated the sophistication of the Chinese market and those involved in the manufacturing industry. “Some companies had a tendency to look upon them as being backward. They weren’t at all backward as far as education standards were concerned, because they were very well educated. But they were unfamiliar with Western ways and Western products,” Ed said.

Some companies treated the Chinese market as if it were something of a dumping ground for outdated, low-priced or lower-quality product.

What they failed to realize was that, in many cases, Chinese manufacturers were using the latest American- or Japanese-manufactured equipment, and the cheaper raw materials simply wouldn’t perform on their machines. Ed said, “China had this immense amount of foreign currency for modernization in the late ’80s. In many cases they were buying turnkey operations, and a lot of it was state-of-the-art technology.”

Borg-Warner invested a considerable amount of time and money in assisting the Chinese in

developing their manufacturing industry. During Ed’s first visits, fully 90 per cent of his time was devoted to conducting training sessions. “I’d give the same spiel over and over again in different cities to what they would call an informal audience, which could be as many as 250 people. We were very well received over there. It was very humbling when people would travel for two days to talk to our technical service group for a couple of hours.”

Borg-Warner set up a special Sino-Chem fund and paid for the establishment of a plastics research facility in Shanghai. Naturally, the funding was based on the volume of BWC product purchased by the Chinese.

Ed would travel from his four-bedroom apartment in the British colony of Hong Kong to mainland China as often as two or three times a week. He also frequently visited Korea, Taiwan, Malaysia, Thailand and Singapore. His original assignment was to be for three years. At the end of the term, early in 1988, he was asked to extend his commitment for an additional five years. He agreed without hesitation.

“Then, all of a sudden, I was told there’d been some changes, and that I’d have to go back to Canada. I didn’t realize until I got back that GE had come onto the scene.”

Just as Ed was packing and preparing for the trip back to Canada, he received a call from Bill Patient who, by that time, was heading up BWC’s blow-molding operation. Bill wanted Ed to become a blow-molding market development manager, reporting to Bruce Broberg. Once again, Ed was working out of his home in Cobourg, responsible for Canada and the northeastern United States.

Ed carried on, continuing to service Northern Telecom and the automakers, and still technically working for Borg-Warner while the firm was merged into General Electric. In 1989, with the GE takeover complete, Ed was asked to become senior technical programs specialist, extrusion, reporting to GE’s U.S. headquarters, but still based in Cobourg.

A short while later, he was sent for six months to GE Appliances in Louisville, Kentucky, and

Bloomington, Indiana, then to a position as material processing specialist for Lexan and Ultem at GE Plastics in Mount Vernon, New York.

For nearly a year, each week Ed was flying back and forth to Mount Vernon. In late 1991, Ed was on the move again, this time to Pittsfield, Massachusetts, where he worked in the development of new automotive materials processing methods. He’d drive the 600 kilometres to Pittsfield each Sunday, and drive back to Cobourg on Friday. That continued for several months until Ed finally returned to Canada for good. From 1992 until 1995, he served as senior technical development engineer, working with customers between Toronto and the Quebec border.

Ed officially retired in December 1995, two months after he and Barb Acorn were honoured at a reception to celebrate their 30 years of service.

But Ed’s career with GE didn’t really end with his retirement. Since he – and not the company – was the official CSA rep, Ed continued to take care of CSA activities for another two years.

The China contract Borg-Warner Chemicals was the first American company to supply the Chinese with ABS. Before BWC broke into the market, Japan and Germany were the leading suppliers of ABS thermoplastics to China but, when the two countries began having delivery problems, the Chinese turned to the United States – and to Borg-Warner.

In the late 1970s, China was in the process of emerging from a cocoon of isolationism and began to upgrade its industry to catch up – and compete – with its global neighbours. The association with Borg-Warner began in May 1979 when BWC board chairman Jack Shafer was invited to attend the “Canton Fair”.

Jack discovered that, while the items on display at the fair were the newest, most advanced products offered in China, most Westerners would view them as being old-fashioned. He returned with

photographs of a treadle sewing machine that might have been used 50 years earlier in North America; farm tractors that looked about the same size as riding lawnmowers; and telephones in which the bodies and receivers were molded in mismatched colours and with surfaces badly scarred by sink marks. Product quality was not a huge concern – most of the items were for domestic use only, and there was nothing for comparison. But things were changing.

The Chinese knew they needed money to improve their economy and to get that hard currency they needed to radically improve their export business. This meant ramping up quality, design and workmanship to compete with the likes of the United States, Canada and Japan.

While China showed an interest in BWC’s Cycolac ABS, at first they hesitated to buy the material outright. Instead, they requested that Jack return with people who could teach them North American methods by conducting technical seminars and by working with them in their factories. So Mike Fondren, BWC’s technical service engineer and Neil Nichols, sales service supervisor, travelled to China to accommodate the request for technical expertise.

Mike and Neil conducted seminars on molding and extruding Cycolac and found the Chinese very eager to learn.

Neil said one big problem was their old equipment.

He said the largest extruder he saw had a six-inch barrel diameter and processed 300 pounds of ABS an hour, compared with BWC’s six-inch machines at the time that had output rates of 2,000 to 2,500 pounds an hour. The Asian packaging labels.

largest injection-molding machine had a maximum clamp pressure of 550 tons and a maximum shot size of 70 ounces, compared with a 3,000-ton, 800ounce maximum for a U.S. machine.

Neil and Mike actually worked with the Chinese in two different plants, running molding and extrusion trials with Cycolac. They were believed to be the first Americans allowed inside a Chinese processing facility. Borg-Warner Chemicals sealed the deal with the Chinese by the end of 1979. Today, GE Plastics is the largest GE business in China, investing in compounding, materials, technology, marketing development, application development and infrastructure.

GE’s commitment to the Chinese economy includes the $64million (US), 47,000square-metre China Technology Center, in the Zhangjiang high-tech zone in Shanghai, and sponsorship of the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 37

Construction Construction

From the 1960s through the 1980s, Normar had undergone almost continual growth and expansion.

This included a number of construction projects, large and small. One of the larger projects was the expansion and construction of the Quality Control/Pigment weighing area, known as the M.A. building (Marbon “A”).

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From Perogies to Plastics Leo Kowal career with Marbon Chemicals in Cobourg – at a plant he’d never seen.

He’d been living in Montreal since 1950, working for Pittsburgh Plate Glass, in the St. Laurent industrial district. “Montreal was one fun town,” he said. It was a far cry from his prairie roots. Leo was born in 1926 near the tiny village of Jedburgh30, just west of Yorkton, Saskatchewan. His parents, from Ukraine, started farming there in 1925 after moving from Wooster, Massachusetts, where Leo’s father had worked as a machinist beginning in 1913.

With the outbreak of the First World War, Leo’s father went back to Europe to serve in the army.

A few years after the war, he decided to emigrate to Canada and join the hundreds of pioneering Ukrainian families who settled on the Prairies and became grain farmers. “The land around Jedburgh wasn’t very good for farming so, soon after I was born, we moved to Fosston, about a hundred miles to the north,” Leo said, recalling his days growing up on the family farm. “We had everything – wheat, barley, oats, huge gardens, cattle, chickens, hogs and horses. Part of that original farm is still in the family.

My brother owns it, but doesn’t farm it himself.”

Salut, swinging Montreal

Leo Kowal missed one heck of a New Year’s Eve bash back in 1965. While the rest of Montreal was singing “Auld Lang Syne” and popping champagne corks, Leo was ushering in 1966 aboard an overnight train to Toronto. He was on his way to launch a new

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Life on the farm wasn’t in Leo’s future, however, and after high school, he went to the University of Saskatchewan, in Saskatoon, where he earned his chemical engineering degree in 1945. He was 24 when Pittsburgh Plate hired him – and off he went to swinging Montreal.

“I signed up at Pittsburgh Plate as a chemical engineer but, within three months, they wanted me to get into production, and so I was made

production manager, responsible for producing sheet glass.” After 15 years, Leo had had enough of the tired, old plant, and the hot work involved in glassmaking. It was high time for a change.

“I was getting a little sick of working at the glass plant. They weren’t doing anything to modernize the place, and I knew they were going to go down the tubes sooner or later. So, through the Engineering Journal, I advertised for a position.” A short while later, Leo got a call from a recruiting agency. Marbon Chemicals was establishing a plant in Canada and was looking for experienced people. Leo leapt at the opportunity. “I met this fellow named Les Boysen for lunch at the Laurentien Hotel in Montreal. We were both farm boys, so we talked a lot about farming, and then he says to me, ‘what do you know about Banburys?’ Banburys? I’d never heard of them. He explained they were milling machines that rolled out plastic into big sheets before going through a dicer.”

Les showed Leo a number of photographs of Borg-Warner’s plants in Parkersburg, West Virginia, and Ottawa, Illinois, and talked about all the good things the company had in mind for the Cobourg operation. “There was Parkersburg on 304 acres and Ottawa on 110 acres and I thought, boy, they sure are huge. I was impressed. I figured the Cobourg plant must be pretty big, too.”

Leo was one step closer to being hired but, as was the case with all of Borg-Warner’s prospective management employees, he first was sent off to undergo psychological testing at a firm in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. “Yeah, I went to have my head examined,” he said with a chuckle. “I guess I passed, because after that they sent me over to Parkersburg for some more tests. Bill Patient (who later would become Normar’s second plant manager) was one of the guys doing the testing. One night after dinner, as he was driving me back to the airport, he said, ‘Well, you’re hired.’ And that was it.”

Leo was to be the new production manager but he still hadn’t set foot in the Cobourg plant. He wasn’t even exactly sure where it was. Then on that New Year’s Day in 1966, he finally got his chance.

He’d rented a car in Toronto after getting off the train from Montreal and drove east to meet Les Boysen and his wife, Ruth, for lunch at their home in Cobourg.

A damned old shack “After lunch, Les decided it was time to show me the plant. We drove down (Normar Road) and, as we crested the hill, I could see Lake Ontario, all right, but I couldn’t see anything else except a damned old shack on the left hand side of the road. I said, ‘Les, where’s the plant?’ He said, ‘That’s it.’ I thought what the heck am I getting into here?” But Les was “one hell of a salesman” and convinced Leo there were exciting times ahead, and much better things to come. Leo took him at his word. As the two of them stood outside the weather-beaten former gelatin plant, Les had another surprise for Leo. “Oh, by the way,” he told Leo, “you’ve been promoted. You’ll also be responsible for distribution, safety and the environment – and you get all that for $800 a month.” Leo said, “He was absolutely the right person to start up a plant.

He was tight, he was tough and he had very high standards.”

Before Leo could start work, he had to go through a rather rigorous training program in Parkersburg. In February he drove down in his MGB sports car. The day after he arrived, the area was hit with a severe blizzard. “We got 14 inches of snow and there was no equipment to move it, so it just sat there until it melted. They weren’t used to that kind of thing.”

Finally, Leo made it back to Cobourg where he met the rest of the start-up team – Barb Acorn, Les Fraser, Ed Kraushar, Yvonne Langdon and “a man for all other jobs,” Rick Whaley.

Frozen extruders That winter, while a contractor was busy preparing the plant for its “new” equipment, Parkersburg shipped Normar’s first three extruders. There

were more than a few raised eyebrows when the transport truck finally arrived. “They shipped them in an open truck in the dead of winter. They were all covered in ice and snow. We got them all thawed out only to find that all the wires had been cut inside the control boxes. These things were antiques that Parkersburg didn’t want any more because they’d switched to the Banburys, which could produce thousands of pounds an hour. The ones we got could only produce about 200 pounds an hour.”

Although the extruders didn’t come with instructions, with the help of an electrician, Leo and his team were able finally to get two of the machines installed and more or less in working order. Many long hours went into getting the plant ready to actually start producing. Then it was a matter of hiring staff, training them and going after business. A four-member start-up crew from the States was sent in to assist in turning new employees into plastics production specialists, but it would be late 1966 before any real commercial product began rolling out of the plant.

Leo recalls one of the first orders, from Custom Plastics on D’Arcy Street in Cobourg.

Its owner, Ralph Harrison, was also in the midst of getting his plant up and running. He had inked a deal with an automaker to produce some radio control knobs and urgently needed 50 pounds of a particular colour of plastic pellets.

“Well,” Leo said, “when we got the order from Ralph, we worked all afternoon trying to get that colour right. We just couldn’t seem to get it. So Ed Kraushar, Les Boysen and I spent the whole night trying to get this damned colour matched. “Finally, at six o’clock

the next morning, we had it matched. We put the 50pound bag in Les’s car and he drove over to Custom Plastics to deliver it. Ralph was so impressed that he became a multi-million-pound customer after that.

That 50-pound bag really took a lot of effort, but it gave us customers for years and years to come.”

Normar’s biggest product line during its formative years was material for black DWV (Drain, Waste and Vent) pipe – LL-4001, to be precise. Leo has that stock number burned into his mind – almost literally. “I’ll never forget that black crap,” he said.

“One time I was working on the machine and it started spitting hot, black pellets all over the place. I got covered in the stuff and it damn near burned all my clothes off.”

‘Pistol’ Patient In 1968, Les Boysen was called back to manage Borg-Warner’s original plant in Gary, Indiana. Bill Patient was appointed Normar’s new plant manager.

“Bill was the pistol that really got things going. He was a go-go kind of guy. He knew how to get things

Leo Kowal, at right, during the NG line start-up. From left are: Terry Lewis, Jim Spiers and Jack Adams, 1979.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 4 1

Second photo from left, Leo Kowal with Paul Herriot and Wayne Roberts.

done and wasn’t afraid to spend money. He got the new office building built and the expansion started,” Leo said. “His boss was a fellow by the name of Len Harvey, who was the president of Marbon.

Len was a Canadian, so he gave Bill free rein to do a lot of things. When I became plant manager on April Fools’ Day, 1970, we had a lot of support from Les, Bill and Len. I reported directly to Len Harvey because Bill had moved into another venture and eventually was put in charge of Borg-Warner Chemicals in Europe.”

By 1971, Normar had grown to become the largest producer of ABS in Canada, but offshore competitors were beginning to sniff around to lure away Normar’s customers. The biggest threat was from the Far East where budding plastics feedstock producers were offering cut-rate resin prices that Normar could not have matched. “There was this resin producer in Korea that was undercutting us big-time,” Leo said, “so we needed a tariff imposed on their shipments.” Leo contacted Len Harvey, who told him he’d have to hire a lobbyist to persuade the government in Ottawa to institute a tariff.

“Hell, I don’t need a lobbyist, I’ve got Jack,” Leo said, referring to Cobourg’s longest-serving mayor, the late Jack Heenan. “So, I called Jack and told him we had a problem. We needed a tariff. Jack said, ‘That’s no problem, Leo, let’s go to Ottawa and see my buddy, Edgar Benson31 the finance minister.’”

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Leo and Jack drove to Ottawa, had dinner with Benson and explained their dilemma. “Edgar Benson listened to what we had to say and then said, ‘No problem, we’ll put in a 15- to 20-per-cent tariff and that should solve things for you’ – and it did. Edgar and Jack had been high school chums, so that didn’t hurt too much,” Leo said.

Scotch and water Jack Heenan, first elected mayor in 1961 and acclaimed each year except 1979, served until 1980.

Known affectionately as Cobourg’s “perpetual mayor,” it was Heenan who sealed the deal with Marbon to establish the Normar plant. Without his political shrewdness, persuasiveness – and the occasional tipping of the wrist – the plant might well have been located elsewhere. It all came down to scotch and water.

When Borg-Warner selected the site for its new plant in late 1964, it initially planned to draw water from Lake Ontario. However, in its original agreement with the town’s public utilities commission, if it were determined the lake water wasn’t suitable, the town would provide fresh water.

Borg-Warner soon learned it couldn’t use the lake water and asked the town to make good on its promise, but there was a snag. The plant was in Hamilton Township, not Cobourg. The township couldn’t afford to install a water line, and Cobourg’s

town council wasn’t overly eager to dip into its funds to build one either, especially if it were to serve the township. The township, on the other hand, reckoned it likely would lose most of the land in question through annexation to Cobourg, and so why should it subsidize the town’s waterworks project?

The debate dragged on for a number of weeks until, on May 4, 1965, Borg-Warner issued an ultimatum – begin digging trenches for the new water main in three days or it would take its business elsewhere. “Len Harvey called Jack Heenan and bluntly told him, ‘No water, no plant,’” Leo said.

“Jack wasn’t a man to give up. He wanted this bluechip company. So, he called a special meeting (of officials from the town, township and the county).

Now, Jack was a confirmed member of Alcoholics Anonymous, but he brought each member a bottle of scotch. After a few drinks, they all voted to supply the plant with water from the Town of Cobourg.”

The mayor, Len said, “was one real hard-working guy. The (water) issue was one that Heenan was pretty aggressive about.” Heenan, quoted May 5, 1965 in the Cobourg Guide, said, “If we don’t give this company the water they need, we might just as well fold our tents and not try to bring any more industry to Cobourg.”

Two bylaws enabling installation of the new 12inch main passed in record time – less than three hours. The line would provide Borg-Warner with

officer, Aimee Rogers, politely explained that an EEOC – which stood for the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission – was a mandatory U.S. government form. It required companies to provide details concerning the racial make-up of their workforces.

“We need to know how many black people are employed at Normar,” Rogers explained, “and how that relates to the number of black residents in your community.” At the time, there were few if any Afro-Canadians living in the Cobourg area. And, of course, the EEOC had no authority in Canada. Leo explained this to Rogers, saying: “My dear, Aimee, we don’t have any black people working for us. We have Newfoundlanders and Quebeckers and a lot of local rednecks, but no blacks. It all worked out, however,” he added, “when I moved to Mississippi, I married Aimee.” up to one million gallons a day, and would cost the town about $14,000. It was estimated BorgWarner’s annual water bill would top $100,000, netting the public utilities commission a tidy profit.

The town borrowed the funds to install the line and Borg-Warner guaranteed the loan.

Although Normar was a branch office of U.S.-based Marbon/Borg-Warner, it enjoyed relative autonomy, and in today’s business parlance likely would be referred to as an IOC – Independent Operating Company. This would prove to have both advantages and disadvantages for the little plant – but primarily advantages.

Normar was subject to Canadian municipal bylaws and codes, as well as provincial and federal laws and statutes, facts that frequently slipped the minds of its American masters, especially when it came to good old American red tape. “Our head office in Parkersburg never really understood us in Cobourg,” Leo said. “One day I got a call from a gentle voice in their personnel department: ‘Mr. Kowal, we don’t have your EEOC report.’ In my most diplomatic tone, I said, ‘What the hell is that?’” The personnel

Before the sun goes down …

Another time, soon after production began, Leo received a call from the Parkersburg accounting office, asking that Leo provide a full inventory of all raw materials and finished goods. Leo and his crew set right to work and began the count. “We set up three teams of two and started our count at midnight. It had to be exactly correct,” he said. “By late afternoon we couldn’t agree on any of the counts. I got a call from Dick Smith, the VP of finance.

He says, and I swear these were his exact words, ‘Before the sun goes down, I will have an accurate inventory or your ass is gone.’

“Luckily, Bob Hoye, Calmar’s plant manager, was visiting our plant at the time. I asked him what I should do. Bob said, ‘Give ’em whatever numbers you have.

How the hell are they gonna know if they’re right?’

Thereafter I always admired Bob, the future VP of personnel, but hated accountants – except of course until we hired the smooth and savvy Ron Sargent.”

Leo also recalled a time when a number of Normar employees – but principally Doug Irwin and Bob Gilpin – invented an ingenious resin dryer that prevented backflow, virtually eliminating a fire hazard. “For many years, both Woodmar and Linmar rejected the design because of what we called the ‘U.S. Syndrome – not invented here, can’t be any good.’”

After Les Boysen left Normar in 1968 to manage the facility in Gary, Bill Patient took over as plant manager.

Bill was introduced during a boisterous farewell celebration for Les, hosted by Len Harvey at Cobourg’s Dalewood Country Club.

“For Bill, it was a bit of a rocky start. You see, Bill wasn’t exactly the tallest of men and, in the middle of his introduction by Len, Buck Marshall, who’d had a few, shouted from the back of the room, ‘Hey, Bill, you wanna step out of that hole so we can see who you are?’ Even so, Buck and Bill became fast friends after that.”

Knocking back a few cool ones at the old Cobourg Curling Club, Leo Kowal, centre with cigarette, laughs it up with Ernie Everingham (standing at Leo’s right), John Myles (to Leo’s left) and Bob Marriott, circa 1970s.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 43

Bill remained at Normar until 1970 when Leo was appointed plant manager. By then, the Normar team was going full bore – on and off the job. The parties were legendary. The plant’s motto easily could have been, “Work hard, party hard.”

Even before employees formed their own activity club, there were plenty of social and sports events from which to choose. Leo was an avid golfer, tennis and badminton player and, from all reports, was highly competitive. He encouraged and participated in a wide variety of company-sponsored events, including family-day picnics, car rallies, curling bonspiels, and golf, hockey and softball tournaments. Most everyone participated. As well, many employees enjoyed camping, boating, hunting and fishing.

Many of these events were “well-lubricated,” occurring during times when knocking back a few pints wasn’t as frowned upon to the same degree as it is today, particularly when it involved drinking and driving. “No question about it, we worked hard and we partied hard,” Leo said. Many of the stories will forever remain sealed in confidence, but a few are worth repeating.

“I’ll never forget that every time we were out having a few drinks, Lorne Hill would always want to arm-wrestle with me. He became known as ‘The Tiger’ and I was ‘The Pussycat.’ Of course, he always won.”

away party, I got a plaque from Rick. The hair was there, with the quote ‘The Reeve’s Long-lost Locks.’ I still have it.”

Extracurricular antics aside, under Leo’s tutelage, Marbon Chemicals’ Normar operation thrived. It also set standards of excellence that earned national attention. One of Leo’s proudest moments came when, on behalf of Marbon, he accepted a top award from the Canadian Institute for Pollution Control at a special ceremony held in Halifax in the fall of 1970. Marbon received the “A.V. Delaporte Award” largely because of a report

The reeve’s long-lost locks Lab technician Bill Finley, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well at one of the famous Normar social gatherings. Bill, who later would become mayor of the Township of Alnwick/Haldimand, lost most of his hair at an early age, but what few remaining red strands he had, he combed over the top of his head.

“We’d had a few drinks and I just couldn’t resist the urge, so I grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped off those long red hairs,” Leo laughed. “Bill was more or less in the tank, too, so he really didn’t notice. At any rate, Rick Whaley saved those hairs and at my going-

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Aeration unit, water treatment facility, 1970s.

made by the Ontario Water Resources Commission that praised the company “for the manner in which improved plant facilities and lake outfall were provided and put into operation with a schedule mutually agreed to.”

Borg-Warner encouraged its divisions to become actively involved in the communities they served.

Many of Normar’s employees were members of various service clubs and several served as executive committee members. Community involvement at all levels continues today. In 1972 Leo was appointed president of the Cobourg Chamber of Commerce.

housekeeping, quality, delivery, production and profit. As Leo put it, “This was our priority list. If you did the first five things well, you made money.”

Now retired and living in Diamondhead, Mississippi, he treasures his 10 years at Normar.

“Those were the best times,” he said. “Our crowning glory, aside from being a model, profitable plant, was our safety record – we were the best in our division. It was a really rewarding time for me – in the camaraderie we enjoyed; in our achievements; and working with dedicated, generous and genuine human beings – the world needs them now!”

rhw photo

rhw photo

Leo Kowal was the plant manager with the longest term of service while Borg-Warner operated Normar.

Current plant manager Steve Rosa comes a close second. Steve celebrated his 10th anniversary at the plant in April 2006. Many long-serving employees still look back at Leo’s tenure as the plant’s “golden years” – April 1970 to April 1980 – a decade of continuous growth, mixed with competitive challenges.

Leo took his cues from his forerunners and mentors, Les Boysen and Bill Patient, both of whom were staunchly committed to Borg-Warner’s six basic principles of corporate governance – safety,

Ken Ellis, at left, in the sand filtration building, wastewater treatment facility, 2006.

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sports

Sports & Activities

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Curling Curling

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1 - Chuck Hall.

2 - Bob Chick, John Hall (son), Chuck Hall and Leo Kowal.

3 - Pam Russell.

4 - Pam Russell and Dianne Saunders.

5 - Tom Heeps, Glen Hynes, Yvonne Langdon and Jim Acorn (Barb’s husband).

6 - Ron Sargent.

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O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 49

Blues Artist

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Bill Finley

His Worship William C. Finley – Mayor for Life, Perpetual Mayor, Mayor Forever, take your pick.

Bill comes by the nicknames honestly, given that he’s worn the chain of office for the Township of Alnwick/Haldimand32 for more than a quarter of a century.

Bill was first elected to council in 1977. Two years later, he was elected reeve and, with the amalgamation of Alnwick and Haldimand townships in 2001, Bill became mayor. He fits the part well

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– almost as if he’d come right out of central casting.

He greets everyone with a wide grin and a hearty handshake. Bill was born in Cobourg Hospital on June 6, 1939, exactly six years before the Allies’ DDay invasion of France. “My dad used to say there was a war coming, because it seemed all the children being born were boys. It was kind of a sign,” Bill said. There already were three other Finley boys back on the family farm off County Road 2, near Colborne. Bill remembers stories about another sign of the impending Second World War. “A lot of German lads from the Kitchener area were being called back to Germany. That would’ve been in ’36 or ’37, before I was born. But my dad used to tell me about them hitchhiking and stopping at the farm to get a meal. That was common back then. They’d see a farmhouse and knock on the door; most people would feed them.” The Finley farm must have been an enticing oasis for hitchhikers during the Great Depression. Aside from the vegetable gardens, chickens, hogs and cattle, there were 35 acres of lush orchards – pears, apples and plums – plenty to feed a large family, as well as hungry travellers, whether they were “German lads” heading back to the Fatherland, or out-of-work men desperately searching for jobs. Like any kid growing up on a farm, Bill had his fair share of chores to keep him busy before and after school. He was no stranger to hard work, but there wasn’t much money in working the land. Besides, his brothers were doing such a fine job, and appeared destined to follow their father into making a career out of farming.

From GE to GM to GE Bill left high school before completing Grade 13 and, for a couple of years, worked at a few jobs – including driving a transport truck and helping construct Highway 401 – before being hired in 1961 at General Electric’s plastics molding factory on Division Street in Cobourg. His experience there in setting up and running extruders eventually would

lead him to Borg-Warner Chemicals, but that would still be a few years away. Bill left GE in 1963 to work at General Motors in Oshawa. “I just felt there was no future with GE. It was midnight work and it was killing me, so I went to GM,” he said.

Well, in fact, there would be a future at GE for Bill, but not for another 25 years. However, he was well on his way. Toward the end of 1964, Bill and a coworker at GM, Wayne Rusaw33, also from Colborne, both spotted a Marbon Chemicals help-wanted ad in the Cobourg newspaper. Wayne had started at GM about six weeks after Bill. “We talked about it and I put my name in and he put his name in. I got accepted in the lab and Wayne got accepted in compounding.”

Bill had had three interviews with Marbon’s personnel manager, Les Fraser, but still wasn’t sure whether he had a job. “Les was a very well mannered man but he really never told me I was hired. About a week or so after my last interview I got a call from him and he wanted to know whether I was coming to work. I told him I didn’t realize I’d been hired.”

After giving GM his two weeks’ notice, Bill started work as a lab technician on Victoria Day, May 24, 1966. “When I started there was only one hourly employee, Rick Whaley. The lab people were hired first and while we were being trained they brought in the production guys a couple of weeks afterwards.

We trained for about 10 weeks before we even started up a (production) line.” Bill had a bit of an edge over most of the new hires. His nearly two years at the GE molding plant had provided him with a fundamental understanding of the plastics industry.

What he didn’t know until after he’d gone through Marbon’s colour tests was that he had a rare ability to distinguish colour gradations – especially shades of blue. He became something of a “blues artist”. “Everyone who passed the colour test had strengths in given areas. For some reason I could really pick up the blues and reds. A lot of people couldn’t do the blues,” he said, “but I really knew how to adjust them.”

Bill’s boss, Ed Kraushar, was in charge of quality control and, taking his lead from Les Boysen, ensured his people received as much training as possible. The lab technicians formed a tight team, working long hours to absorb everything they could about precision colour work. “We had a very, very strong team,” Bill said. “It was amazing what we learned.”

There were several advantages to starting from square one. With but a few notable exceptions, most of the new hires were novices in the plastics business. George Austin, for example, came to Normar from Canadian Canners, and Elwood Fenton had worked in an auto wrecker’s yard.

They were young, purposely selected because they demonstrated a nose-to-the-grindstone kind of work attitude and were eager to learn. Though just 27 when he started at Normar, Bill was among the oldest employees at the plant. Several of the plant’s early employees were fresh out of high school.

Graydon Hilsden was an example. He started work as a lab technician the same day as Bill and stayed until his retirement in June 2005.

BWC interviewed hundreds of applicants during its first couple of years in Cobourg but less than 25 per cent were offered jobs. Bill said the company was looking for a specific kind of person, and that it didn’t really matter whether the applicant had a university degree or was a high school dropout. An applicant’s attitude meant everything. “There were people they’d interviewed that you’d wonder why they wanted to hire them. I had friends that were interviewed and I know they were just as good, just as smart, maybe smarter than others who’d been hired, but they didn’t get the job,” Bill said. “It was more or less whether they thought the person would fit into the team; somebody with family values, who cared about the community and the environment.

That’s the way it was right from day one.”

These attributes formed the human foundation at Normar. There was closeness; people depended on one another, from the top down.

“You damn well knew that if you had a problem in your family, if something went wrong, they weren’t going to desert you. People like Les Boysen, Leslie Fraser, Leo Kowal, Ed Kraushar and Barb Acorn – they were all quality people.

They started out with that strong team and it filtered down. People in the production area were the same way. When the chips were down, they’d come through for you.

“They asked me why I wanted to leave GM John Day (left) with Bill Finley. where I was making good money. I told them I wanted to work somewhere where I felt I’d be achieving something. I had a family to raise – five children – and I wanted to be able to look back someday and say that we started something here; that it was a little, wee shed and, when we left 30 or 40 years later, well, just look at it today.”

Bill learned quickly and was usually the one his co-workers would turn to when colour problems needed solving. “They would call me in the middle of the night and I actually knew the pigments and formulas well enough that I could bring them oncolour right over the phone. I could actually shift the whole formulation all at once – we used to call them ‘Hail Mary’ adjustments. I had a real hot interest in colour work. We learned a lot about pigments; which ones were good and which ones had deficiencies.” In fact, Normar’s entire colour crew was able to detect flaws that often went unnoticed by those running the production lines at Woodmar and Linmar.

“We could pick up pigment deficiencies on the extruders that they couldn’t pick up on the

Banburys in the States. The extruders operated in a harsher environment. With a certain pigment, on a Banbury they’d take (the material) up to 480 degrees (Fahrenheit) and that’d be fine. But, on an extruder, we’d reach as high as 580 degrees and the pigments would be totally destroyed and they’d lose all their green-blueness and go a dirty red-grey,” Bill explained.

Most of the formulas were set at the U.S. plants for use on the big Banburys, with little of the development work dedicated to smaller extruder operations. Time and again, Normar’s lab technicians and compounding operators would detect flaws in the raw materials and dutifully report their findings back to Parkersburg and Ottawa.

It took a while for the U.S. technicians to accept what they were hearing from Normar’s crew, but they finally came around. “There were some really excellent people down in Parkersburg, especially in the colour area. Finally, some of them began saying why are all these (Normar) people coming down here and saying these things, if there isn’t some truth to it?” New formulas were developed that

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worked equally as well on both types of machinery. The little Cobourg plant had developed quite a reputation for itself.

Its next big step was the installation of its own resin plant, which allowed Normar to have direct control over its raw materials. “We made our own ABS, so we had control of our process from start to finish. That was very critical,” Bill said. “What it basically meant was that we’d become masters of our own destiny.”

The resin plant operators were able to produce particle sizes that would maximize extruder output. Normar’s resins were among the best in the business. Despite its size and remoteness from the American operations, Normar consistently set standards of excellence the other plants often were hard-pressed to match. Normar’s early plant managers had a lot to do with Marbon’s success in Canada, even though most of them carried U.S. passports. In 40 years, just three of Normar’s plant managers were Canadians – Leo Kowal, Jack Russell and Steve Rosa.

“We had American managers right from day one,” Bill said. “They were just excellent people. Sure, we were part of an international corporation, but their goal was to make Normar the number one site – guys like Les Boysen and Bill Patient, all the way

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so he called her over again to bring some more. You could tell she was getting a little disturbed. Doug asked her to get a few more bottles and she said, ‘You’re drinking up all of our wine!’ Doug says, ‘Heck, you can always get more in the morning’.”

Bill moved from lab technician to lead hand, shift supervisor and then manager of the colour lab, a position he held until the GE takeover when his title was changed to colour specialist. During that time, Bill witnessed a lot of changes at the plant. A major turning point was when the decision was made to shut down the resin operation. Tariff walls were falling and the U.S.-Canada Free Trade Agreement opened up the border to cheaper raw materials.

Normar’s small resin operation simply could not compete.

Not-so-free trade

down the line. Les had been a colonel in the U.S. Army and he was one of the best men I ever worked for. Leo Kowal, of course, was a Canadian but he was cut from the same cloth – very dedicated to the plant and the people.”

The first 10 years, he said, “We had a real ball.

We worked like hell, but we had a lot of fun – the Christmas functions, the summer picnics and all the activities that we had for the children were first class.

We worked hard but we also liked to let our hair down.”

Bill recalled one Friday evening when, after a particularly rough week, plant manager Doug Mathera decided to host a dinner for his managers.

They all gathered for a meeting at a restaurant near Baltimore, just north of Cobourg. “Well, jeez, everybody had a bit of a thirst that night, Doug included. I’ll never forget that night. We’d had a bit of a meeting and started getting into the wine a bit.

Doug called over the lady who ran the place and asked her to bring a few more bottles of wine over to the table. We knocked those back pretty quickly,

“Before Free Trade, Borg-Warner’s plants were allowed more flexibility, more freedom. But, once Free Trade came in, most of that left. We had very good testing labs, we had raw materials testing labs, we had the ability to test pigments and we had firstclass equipment. Not long after Free Trade, most of that stuff was shut down.”

Bill said he understood the financial rationale for the resin plant shutdown and the loss of the corresponding support and testing services, but at the expense of quality. “In the last few years, though, that’s changed in a big way, and I think you have to give Steve Rosa credit because he was able to convince (GE) they weren’t going down the right road, that they’d better step back and take a look at some of the things that Borg-Warner had, and that’s why the situation there today has reversed to a large degree,” Bill said.

He admitted, however, that with fierce international competition and ever-changing customer demands, things could never return to the way they were pre-GE. But the core values, he said, are still firmly in place.

Bill retired at the end of 2000.

Fifty Pounds of Pellets

In the grand scheme of things – at least in the plastics business – a 50-pound bag of ABS pellets amounts to little more than a grain of sand on a Lake Ontario beach. But, to Normar, it represents an important beachhead in its history.

Tracing the route that led to that first shipment back in the fall of 1966 began, fittingly, with Canadian General Electric34 in Peterborough, 53 kilometres to the north. Ask for directions to “GE Plastics” from any long-time Cobourg resident and you’ll likely be directed to a sprawling factory just north of the CNR railway tracks at 755 Division Street. But you won’t find any trace of GE there. The site is now home to Canada Pallet Corp.

Until 1984, CGE operated two major businesses out of the Division Street location – mold manufacturing and custom-molded plastics, both

under the umbrella of CGE’s Molded Plastics division, which later became the Composites Products division. At its height, the plant employed nearly 300 people. GE sold the business to Complax Corporation in April 1984. It would be another four years before GE returned to Cobourg.

In 1946, Bill Gadd was still in his teens when his father, Harry, a manufacturing superintendent at CGE in Peterborough, was assigned the job of scouting a new location for CGE’s operations.

During the Second World War, Harry had been in charge of producing anti-aircraft guns at the Peterborough plant. With the war over, CGE was aiming its sights on new business targets and needed to expand its operations. Two things prompted CGE’s decision to move – lack of space at the existing site and the fact that the Peterborough operation was unionized.

Harry was given just six months to find and build a new plant and get the business started. “He looked at a number of locations close to what is now Highway 401, and settled on Cobourg, because there was good access to transportation, including Canadian National and Canadian Pacific (railways),” Bill said.

Building a plant from scratch was out of the question. There simply wasn’t enough time. So Harry went to Halifax and purchased two surplus Second World War aircraft hangars, had them dismantled and shipped to Cobourg, where they were reassembled and became CGE’s new plant. The hangars are still there today.

Soon after finishing high school, Bill apprenticed as a tool-and-die maker at the new plant. After getting his papers as a mold maker in 1953 he went right to work but soon was boosted to estimating,

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Bill Gadd – Custom Plastics International

Audrey and Bill Gadd.

working closely with CGE’s salespeople. His boss was Clayton Drury, manager of engineering, who’d also transferred down from Peterborough. “Clayt,” as he was known to most of his pals, reported to Ralph Harrison, the general manager, another Peterborough CGE alumnus. Clayt and Ralph would figure prominently in Bill’s future.

Bill fit in well in sales, was promoted to sales manager and worked out of the Toronto office for five years before returning to the Cobourg plant as general sales manager. One time, after Bill had been with CGE for about 15 years, while planning for a sales trip to visit with one of GE’s customers in Puerto Rico, Bill invited Ralph Harrison to come along and meet some of the Puerto Rican firm’s principals.

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“We were doing a fair amount of business with these people and I told Ralph he really should meet them. Of course, we arranged to be there over the weekend and, one Saturday morning while we were stretched out on the beach, Ralph turns to me and says, ‘How’d you like to go into business with me?’ I had no hesitation at all. Not only did I like Ralph personally, I also had a lot of respect for him, so I said, ‘sure, why not?’”

That was in February 1964. Three months later, after convincing CGE’s maintenance manager, “Bus” Edwards to join them, they gave their notice at General Electric and launched out on their own to start Custom Plastics International. Pooling their resources, in June the trio bought four injectionmolding machines at an auction in Toronto and temporarily set up shop in space on George Street North, provided by General Wire. Within a month they were operational, with four employees, not counting the partners’ wives. About a year and a half later, Clayt Drury joined them.

“Our wives came up and took turns running the machines and, when one of them wasn’t running a machine, she’d be making coffee or answering phones,” Bill said. In the meantime, they were constructing their permanent facility on D’Arcy Street, moving in five months after sealing their partnership. They started production with one shift on D’Arcy Street in November 1964. Three years later, Custom was running three shifts with about 30 employees.

General Motors, Sunbeam and Northern Electric were among Custom Plastics’ first customers.

All three bought molded parts from Custom.

Custom’s ABS feedstock was provided by none other than Marbon Chemicals, initially trucked into Cobourg from Parkersburg, West Virginia.

Just as business began rolling at Custom, Marbon was finalizing its plans to build Normar. Naturally, Custom was eager to have an ABS supplier closer to home and was instrumental in working with the Town of Cobourg and Mayor Jack Heenan to get Marbon on board.

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The true test came early in 1967 while Custom was running full bore because of an unanticipated and very large order from Outboard Marine, in Peterborough, whose original plastics supplier had become embroiled in a lengthy labour dispute. “I told Ralph that Outboard was sending down 52 molds, and he just about had a heart attack. ‘Whoa!

We can’t handle 52 molds,’ he said. I told him we’d just have to do the best we could to help them out, and we did,” Bill said. Scrambling to fill the order, Custom still had to ensure that its service to its existing customers continued without interruption.

In the midst of the chaos, Custom received another emergency order from one of the big automakers, for specially coloured radio control knobs. Ralph Harrison immediately called Les Boysen at Normar and explained he needed the order filled by the following day or they’d risk losing the business.

“Les lived right across the street from me,” Bill said, “so we knew one another socially as well as through business. His plant was starting up just about the same time as ours, so we had a lot in common. We knew they’d come through for us.” Bill remembers, however, there was a fair bit of nail-biting going on while Custom waited for Normar to match the colour of pellet they needed. “When Les Boysen showed up the next morning – I think it was around 6 or 7 a.m.

– with this 50-pound bag of pellets in his car, well, Ralph Harrison probably could have kissed him. We were so relieved – and impressed. They really did the job for us,” Bill said. That extra effort cemented the relationship between Normar and Custom. The two became close partners from that day forward, thanks to 50 pounds of pellets.

Pellet power

Cycolac ABS has been used to fabricate hundreds of thousands of products. Here’s just a short list of some of the ordinary and not-soordinary products made from Cycolac. Grades are shown in parentheses: • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Pantyhose display cases (CTB) Smoke detector housings (KJB) Boat-hatch covers (FBK) Photographic enlargers (DH & FBK) Door knobs (DFA-R) Drip chambers for kidney dialysis (CTB) Tennis ball testers (T) Toilet tanks (GSM) Licence plate frames (CIT) Sole/heel combinations for shoes (TH) Solar collector pans (Z-76) Safety helmets (HM) Detergent dispensers (X-11) Hospital trays (Z-41) Interior light tubes (AS) Computer cases (L)

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 55

The Great Escape Barbara Acorn

When he returned, the family moved to Montreal for three years, where Barb started school. They later returned to Peterborough after her father landed a job with Armstrong Lumber. When the lumber company opened a plant in Port Hope, the family

Barb at picnic “egg-toss”. rhw photo

moved again, this time permanently. Barb’s father stayed at the lumber company until it was sold.

He then applied for and was hired as manager of Port Hope’s Board of Trade. He later worked for Matthews Conveyor, until his retirement.

In 1965, Barb Acorn was “doing hard time” at the maximum-security Millbrook Correctional Centre35.

No, she wasn’t an inmate but she was planning an escape nonetheless. She’d been a secretary there for a few years but with two little boys at home, the amount of time she spent each day driving back and forth from her home in Port Hope was getting to be a bit of a strain. It was definitely time to “go over the wall.”

Borg-Warner’s Marbon Chemicals, just down the road in Cobourg, was looking for a secretary. Her qualifications seemed to match the job description perfectly.

In 1940, just after Barb was born in Lakefield, about 20 kilometres north of Peterborough, her father went overseas to serve in the Second World War. She didn’t see him again until she was five.

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Selling the vision “The first interview, with Les Boysen, the plant manager, was conducted in a hotel room – an unusual circumstance, to say the least. Then I was invited to a follow-up interview at the new plant site,” she said. “If I thought the location of the first interview was a bit odd, the follow-up interview was truly a unique experience. Electrical wires were hanging down everywhere and you had to climb over piles of lumber and various other construction materials to get to the ‘office-in-progress,’ with concrete floors, cement block partitions and two windows.”

While not particularly impressed with the rather shabby surroundings, Barb had done her research.

She knew that Borg-Warner was a good company with

lots of potential for advancement, and she liked the idea of being in on the ground floor of its new plant.

“Besides, Mr. Boysen was a very persuasive man. He sold the ‘vision’ and, looking back, he was absolutely right.”

Barbara was the third person hired at the plant, working as secretary to Les Boysen. “The title ‘secretary’ was a bit of a misnomer. It was a super job.

You got to do a little of everything – an incredible opportunity and excellent work experience,” she said.

“Everything” included doubling as a front-line personnel officer. Barb conducted most of the initial interviews with new hires. This early experience in human resources would prove beneficial to Barb as she progressed at Normar.

“I had a large part to do with the early recruitment process. We were so small at the time, and Les (Boysen) used to say that I was the first ‘pass’ because I would sit and talk with them while they waited for their interviews with Mr. Boysen and Mr. Fraser.

The applicants didn’t realize that I was part of the interview process,” she said.

Borg-Warner’s personnel officers had a reputation for investing a lot of time in finding out as much as they could about prospective employees. One interview was never enough. They were looking for people who would fit into their overall picture of what a Borg-Warner employee should be, and whether that employee would function well as part of a team.

Company gatekeeper Barbara was something of a gatekeeper at Normar.

While hiring decisions ultimately rested with Les Boysen, he counted on Barb’s impressions before bringing a person on staff. “I had very good listening skills and people tended to be very open with me.

Then Les and Les and I would discuss our perceptions of each candidate. Les Boysen would make the final decision.”

Marbon offered security, excellent benefits and better-than-average pay packets. “Borg-Warner was

very familyoriented,” Barb said.

“There was a lot of loyalty – from the company to the employee, and the employee to the company.”

Borg-Warner annually held picnics and open houses so that employees’ family members could get a better understanding of what went on at the plant and how important the work was. The company also offered summer jobs to employees’ children.

“For many years, almost exclusively, we wouldn’t look outside for summer staff until we’d taken care of our list of employees’ eligible children. The thought was that in providing summer employment for employees’ children, they were encouraging and financially supporting their education prospects,” Barb said.

Normar also had a close and long-standing relationship with the University of Waterloo, one of the few Ontario universities in the mid-’60s and early ’70s that offered co-op education programs.

Students would study for four months and then work at the plant for four months, returning after that for another four months at school. Most of the students were enrolled in Waterloo’s engineering program and, as the university developed its highly regarded information technology department, Normar drew from that well, also.

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1 - Susan Bienek. 2 - Deane Weatherby. 3 - Rob Peters. 4 - Kim Boucher. 5 - Roger Skubowius. 6 - David Maggs.

Recruiting the students and watching them grow were highlights of Barb’s career. She’d spend two or three days each year conducting on-campus interviews and assisting in the selection process. The “adopted” student employees fit in well and quickly.

They’d attend many of the organized social events – and some of the impromptu ones as well – joining in on the fun, but also learning important life skills beyond the work-a-day world.

Barb was a founding member of the Normar Employees’ Activity Club (NEAC) and spent countless hours helping to organize the dozens of special events and employee recognition efforts.

She also served as editor of Normarac, the plant’s employee newsletter.

It wasn’t all fun and games. Employees were not only encouraged to upgrade their skills, it also was more or less expected of them. Borg-Warner offered a wide variety of training programs and Barb was one who never hesitated to take full advantage of them. “The opportunity was always there,” she said.

“Because of family commitments, I stayed a long time as the plant manager’s secretary but I was always upgrading my skills by taking night courses at Sir Sandford Fleming College and Trent University.”

Barbara realized that times were rapidly changing and that “careers-for-life” soon would become a luxury of the past. She was preparing herself for new frontiers. The opportunity would come sooner than expected. As the plant grew and the business

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Extruder Extraordinaire Jack Adams

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structure became more formalized, she found that her “Jacqueline-of-all-trades” role was diminishing.

“One of the things that was hardest for me to leave behind was that in the first few years while we were developing a total business, I got to do all kinds of different things. I felt as if I had my finger on the pulse of everything that was going on here in Canada, and some of the things in the United States. But, as we formed departments – purchasing, accounting, sales, etc. – my role became far more specialized. It was a wonderful learning curve for me. I could never have that experience again – to start from nothing and be part of building a business. That was the most fun for me. But, as the business grew, there was less direct involvement.”

Perhaps sensing that Barb was feeling less and less a part of the big picture, Leo Kowal kept encouraging her to broaden her horizons. “Leo is far up on my list of favourite people. He knew I was looking for new horizons and was most willing to present me with new challenges. He called it ‘job enrichment.’”

Barbara had enjoyed her earlier work as a de facto personnel officer – before the title actually existed at Normar and long before the term “human resources” replaced “personnel” – and decided she’d like to get back into that line of work. The HR position included responsibility for safety, so she chose that route, applying for and getting the position of safety advisor, reporting to the HR manager.

About the same time as GE and Borg-Warner were negotiating purchase terms, Barbara was appointed human resources assistant. About a year after GE took over, Barb was promoted to HR manager. It was the plateau she’d always wanted to reach but, once there, she faced perhaps the most challenging time of her career.

“The downsizing in 1992 was the most distressing time of my career but it was obviously far, far more traumatic for the people most affected – the ones that were cut,” she said. Barb remained at Normar until January 1997.

It was mid-1968 and production foreman Jack Adams, one of Normar’s “Original Eight,” was interviewing prospective employees. With production ramping up, the plant desperately needed more people. As Jack put it, “They were hiring like rapid fire.” He, along with Roy Sherwood, Ed Jackson and Lorne Hill – the plant’s first four production foremen – had been with Normar for barely two years but already were seasoned pros when it came to making plastic.

They also were responsible for screening new applicants before moving them up the ladder to the next phase in the hiring process. The plant’s production manager, area manager, shift supervisor and plant manager would evaluate those selected by the foremen. Three of the four senior managers would have to agree before an applicant was hired.

Hopefully, by then, most of the wheat would have been separated from the chaff.

Jack remembers one morning when there were eight or nine men waiting to be interviewed. He called one of them in and, while reviewing the man’s employment history, noticed on the list of previous jobs there appeared to be a rather lengthy period of time since the man last worked.

“Where were you from then until now?” Jack asked, pointing to a blank space on the application form.

“In jail. I hit my boss,” the man replied.

“Next!” said Jack.

Sometimes, however, the odd “bad apple” would make it through the otherwise rigorous screening process and end up on the payroll. “Some of them would look really good at first, but then once they started work, they were a disaster,” Jack said. “But, for the most part, we hired very good people.” Some needed a little coaxing and Jack admits he may have been a little tougher on his men than some of the other foremen.

“I remember one guy who just wasn’t any darn good. He came up to me one day and said, ‘When the hell are you going to take this saddle off me?

You’ve been riding my back now for a week!’ I said, ‘Heck, I haven’t even put my spurs on yet.’ The guy quit.”

Born in 1934 in Detlor, near Bancroft, Ontario, Jack was no stranger to hard work – and expected it from his crews. After leaving high school at 17, he worked at his grandfather’s general store for a few years before landing a job at the Faraday Uranium Mines’ mill near Bancroft. When the mines closed in 1965, he moved to Port Hope to work with Westinghouse’s nuclear fuel facility. That’s where he

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Jean and Jack Adams.

met Karl Lenahan who told him about a new factory that was starting up in Cobourg. Karl would later become Normar’s first compounding area manager.

“I told my wife, Jean, about the job and she wanted to know where the factory was,” Jack said.

“I told her it was Marbon Chemicals and then drove her down to show her the plant. She more or less thought I was crazy. Then what really got her pot boiling was when I quit the Westinghouse job where I was making $2.07 an hour for a job at Marbon that paid $1.85 an hour.”

For the first few weeks Jack and the other seven hourly employees spent most of the time painting and repairing windows, waiting for equipment to arrive. A short while later three extruders were delivered from Parkersburg and installed by Foley Foundry and Machine Co. of Belleville. Foley also maintained the equipment for a number of years

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until Normar established its own maintenance division. Mechanically inclined employees or local contractors, however, often did many of the spot repairs.

One of the three extruders – the B-line – never worked properly and eventually was sold to Royal Plastics in Toronto, later to become one of Normar’s biggest customers for black plastic.

“I don’t know what they ever did with that machine,” Jack said. “It was a piece of junk.”

So, using the remaining pair of extruders, the novice team began to learn how to make plastic, aided by a couple of trainers sent up from Parkersburg, including Carl Hardee who, Jack said, “really took an interest in us.

He taught us most of what we needed to know. He was very, very good.”

The early extruders were temperamental and needed a lot of pampering and constant attention. The slightest error in temperature control would render the entire run useless. First, however, the operators would have to ensure the raw materials – resin, pigments and other additives – were properly mixed, based on formulas and colour-coding prepared in Parkersburg. Unfortunately, however, what may have worked on equipment at Woodmar or Linmar, didn’t always behave on Normar’s little machines.

“One of our big problems was that we had to have the proper screw for the proper material. We just had the one type of screw; we didn’t have all these fancy screws they have now.”

A while later another used extruder was shipped from Parkersburg. “That thing came up with a big, bright yellow lemon and ‘Good Luck!’ painted on the side of it.”

Good machines or not, what really mattered was what went into them. A recurring problem was resin particle size. The coarser the particle, the better the pellet. But most of the resin from BWC’s American plants was designed for use on the Banbury machines or extruders with 10-inch screws. The biggest extruder screw at Normar was just six inches.

“The resin that came in from Ottawa or Parkersburg was just like talcum powder. It was OK for use in the Banburys but it wasn’t very good for our purposes. A Banbury didn’t care what you’d stick into it.”

Banburys produced sheet plastic, which would then be chopped up into pieces in a dicing machine.

Extruders produced spaghetti-like strands, which would go through a pelletizer to produce much more uniformly sized pellets. It wasn’t until Normar started making its own resin that it was able to control particle size and radically improve throughput production on the extruders.

Jack and the rest of the crew members, working closely with the plant’s quality control team, managed to make the best of a bad situation. More important was the fact that plant manager Les Boysen instilled in his employees a sense of ownership.

“We ran things as if it were our own factory,” Jack said. “It was like a challenge issued to the people on the floor. The better we made things run, the more benefits we were going to get out of it.”

Production crews at Normar could always count on hands-on support from their foremen. “A big difference from the other (U.S.) plants was that supervisors were right there on the floor. For example, Kenny Ellis and I would be out there and if we saw a guy having a big pile of trouble with his extruder, we’d jump right in and work on the profiles and the feed rates and decide whether we needed to clean a dye or pull a screw. We’d make decisions right on the spot.”

Jack spent his entire career in compounding. In 1994 he, along with a number of other supervisory staff were given buy-out packages as part of GE’s overall rationalization program. Three years later, he was called back as a “re-work consultant” to help develop the plant’s recycling program.

Instead of selling reject or off-colour pellets to a scrap dealer for five cents a pound, Jack and the recycling crew were able to come up with a

method to “re-work” the material into top-quality, black pellets.

Under plant managers Joe Bleull and Tom Bouchard no effort was spared to find new ways to squeeze every penny of revenue out of the plant.

“Steve Rosa came in about that time, as well. He did a lot to turn things around, too. That plant was totally turned around back into profitability and it’s never looked back since,” Jack said.

1 - Leighton Westington and Bill Broomfield. 2 - Arnold “Buck” and Betty Marshall. 3 - Mr. and Mrs. Don Ford.

4 - Bob Foster and Rick Whaley. 5 - Ed and Joyce Jackson.

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“Fired and Retired Club”

Jack and his granddaughter Sonya.

In addition, the various crews to a large degree managed themselves. If a crew member wasn’t pulling his weight, he’d hear about it from his coworkers. If that didn’t work, the matter would be dealt with in other ways.

“One time,” Jack said, “Wayne Roberts was working on the floor on the F-line and the guy up on the Henschel had let his machine run down two or three times. Wayne went to (supervisor) Wayne Rusaw and said, ‘If that guy lets the machine run out again, I’m gonna throw him off the deck!’

Rusaw cooled him down a bit and then went off to another part of the plant.” Roberts, something of a comedian, decided his complaint needed just a little more emphasis. He fashioned a dummy out of coveralls and a pair of rubber boots, climbed up to the deck and, when Rusaw came strolling by, tossed the dummy off the deck onto the floor below, right in front of Rusaw’s feet. Point made. There were no more problems with the Henschel loader.

Steve Rosa, Jack Adams says, took a keen interest in Normar’s retirees, the “Fired and Retired Club,” as Jack calls them.

Jack, Roger Pearce, Bill May and Bob Foster formed a Borg-Warner Chemicals Alumni Association. The association started with 37 members but today boasts 90. It sponsors an annual Christmas banquet and, when its members fall ill, it arranges for flowers or fruit baskets to be delivered to them. It also donates money to various charities to honour members who’ve died.

“Steve was the first plant manager to take a real interest in the retired people.

He’s a firm believer that they were the ones who built the plant and, if it weren’t for them, it wouldn’t be there and as successful as it is today. He and Diane Saunders have done more for us than anybody could imagine,” Jack said.

In addition to donating funds to help defray the association’s costs, Steve also arranged to pull a few strings and organized a health plan for the retired employees.

“I’m very proud of what he did and it’s been much appreciated by the retirees,” Jack said.

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O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 6 1

A Family Affair It’s all in the family at GE Plastics Cobourg.

Keeping track of the various relationships among Normar employees over 40 years is no easy feat.

The plant’s long-standing tradition of offering summer employment to employees’ children and

grandchildren sometimes resulted in permanent positions. Several husband-and-wife teams also work or worked at the plant, as did brothers, sisters, sonsand daughters-in-law and sisters- and brothers-inlaw. Here’s a partial list:

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6 2 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Al and Barb Harnden, husband and wife Wayne and Amanda McGinn, father and daughter Andy and Lee Carr, husband and wife Andy and Sherry Ashcroft, husband and wife Barb Kelly, Dennis Rawn’s sister-in-law Brian and Margie Keeler, husband and wife Bryon Callahan and Marg Keeler, brother and sister Dave and Paul Dolley, brothers Diane and Mark Saunders, husband and wife Garry Moore, Vern Moore’s uncle Gary and Dave Blakely, father and son Glen and Janet Hynes, husband and wife Jason Finley, Bill Finley’s nephew Jeff Richardson, Ken Ellis’s stepson Jim and Brendan Swayne, father and son Jim and Pat Williams, brothers Karen McNulty, Wayne Moore’s daughter Paul and Jack Herriot, brothers; Mike Herriot, Paul’s son.

Pat and Steve Williams, father and son Roger and Mike Leblanc, brothers; Scott Leblanc, Roger’s son Ron and Jamie Wood, father and son Steve Cameron, Glen Partridge’s son-in-law Tom and Blaine Johnson, father and son Tony Wakely, Tom Johnson’s son-in-law Wib Osborne, Mike Hompus’s father-in-law

1 - Francine Rawn.

2 - Wib Osborne.

3 - Pat Williams.

4 - Glen Partridge.

5 - Wayne McGinn.

6 - Mike LeBlanc.

7 - Barb Kelly.

8 - Paul Herriot.

9 - Janet Hynes.

10 - Glen Hynes.

11 - Gary Blakeley.

12 - Jim Swayne.

Christmas Christmas

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 63

Growing Pains

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Roger Pearce

Roger Pearce was just two days shy of his 55th birthday when he was told in late October 1990 his services no longer would be required at Normar. “Freedom 55” wasn’t really in his plans.

However, he’d had a good run, just six months short of 25 years. He’d witnessed a lot of changes in that time.

Born in Belleville in 1935, Roger worked as a stock boy at Woolworth’s before briefly serving as the department store’s assistant manager in Brockville. Beginning in 1956, he worked in purchasing for 10 years at Stephens Adamson, a conveyor manufacturer in Belleville.

Shopping around for a new career, Roger, then 31, answered a Marbon help-wanted ad in the Belleville Intelligencer. The job was in Cobourg, his wife Eleanor’s hometown. Eleanor, a nurse,

64 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

was all for the move. It would bring her back to her roots.

Invited for an interview in the spring of 1966, Roger drove west down Highway 2 and finally found the gravel road that led to Marbon Chemicals’ plant. It was late in the evening when he pulled up alongside the rather drearylooking building. A couple of lights were on in the main office; the rest of the plant was Eleanor and Roger, late 1960s. shrouded in darkness. He went inside and was met by the prim-and-proper Les Fraser, who conducted Roger’s initial interview, followed by two more interviews, with Les Boysen and Leo Kowal.

“I’d never heard of Marbon and once I had a look at the plant, I kind of wondered what I was doing there. The place was just a shack,” he said. “But they talked up a good story, saying I would be getting in on the ground floor of a new business, and that there’d be a good chance for promotions.”

Roger wasn’t quite sure what the job entailed.

When he first saw the ad, he figured he’d be working with chemicals and oils, a far cry from his office job. He knew nothing about resins or plastics. That would come later. The first order of duty for Roger and the other new hires was to paint the plant. “That was my job for the first two or three weeks,” he said. “We had to paint the place from roof to floor. I think we got the job done a lot sooner than they’d figured. We were all fairly big guys.”

By the end of June 1966, with the equipment installed, compounding training started in earnest. By mid-summer, Marbon was running eight hours a day, five days a week, with three crews of six, operating three extruders – a 4.5inch, a three-inch and a 2.5-inch. Roger reported to Karl Lenahan, the production supervisor.

Roger worked as a chemical compounding operator, earning $1.85 an hour.

Nasty beasts “The first extruders were nasty beasts,” Roger said, recalling one incident that, while comical now, wasn’t particularly funny at the time for plant manager Les Boysen.

“One of the machines – C-Line – was down and Les had come in to have a look. Nothing was coming out of the line. The training guys from the States were there and we kept turning the thing up and then, all of sudden, the thing popped in a cloud of smoke just as Les was walking by. He was wearing kind of a silk shirt and, when the line blew, he looked like he’d been hit with a shotgun blast.

“His shirt just melted away because the stuff was so hot, like little chunks of lava – around 400 degrees. All Les said was, ‘Damn.’ Then he walked away.”

As soon as Normar’s resin plant was being built in 1969, Roger applied for one of the new resin operator positions. The resin plant had been constructed to exacting standards – U.S. standards, that is. Parkersburg’s central engineering group hadn’t factored Canadian winters into their designs. While insulated, the copper-encased Pyrex glass lines leading from the outside tanks to the plant couldn’t withstand extreme cold. The liquid inside the lines would turn into something resembling the consistency of soft ice cream and refuse to budge.

“Our first winter in resin was not our best,” Roger said. “We’d have to go out and pull the lines

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Roger Pearce.

apart.” Normar’s ingenuity once again was put to the test. The resin crew devised a far superior insulation system and cranked up the trace temperature. Things moved smoothly from then on.

Normar’s resin operation was miniscule compared to its big brothers in the States. The resin plant originally was designed to produce no more than 3,500 pounds an hour. But Normar’s resin crews changed that in fairly short order – with little input from the American engineers.

Roger and his co-workers, along with supervisor Ed Jackson knew they could get the system to do a much better job.

Putting their heads together, they came up with a number of equipment enhancements and productivity improvements. Within a few

months, Normar’s resin production was up to more than 12,000 pounds an hour – nearly four times its original capacity.

Normar’s crews were a resourceful bunch.

They never were content with the status quo.

New ideas were always welcome and were given a chance to succeed or fail. Sometimes improvements to equipment or production techniques would filter their way down to the plants in West Virginia or Illinois and, from time to time, would be adopted.

Roger continued working in resin for a number of years, often serving as lead hand to Ed Jackson and filling in when Ed was out of town or on vacation. Bob Chick later took over as the resin area manager. He and Ron Mitchell were instrumental in introducing a self-management program where the operators were more or less left to their own devices and allowed to basically run the operation without supervisory staff actually on the shop floor.

Roger eventually took over responsibility for safety in the resin area, a job he particularly enjoyed. After leaving Normar in 1990, Roger worked at a number of part-time jobs while his wife continued her career as a nurse, eventually retiring after 35 years’ service. Roger and Eleanor enjoy spending time with their adult children, Christine, Mark and Susan, and their two grandchildren, Emma and Hannah.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 65

What to do about Al

Al Harnden was pulling on his coveralls again for the first time in 20 years – the same pair he’d worn as a 19-year-old new hire at Marbon, back in 1966.

As he began dumping material into the Henschel – the identical machine he’d trained on two decades earlier – he turned to one of his co-workers and said, “These coveralls might as well have stripes on them, because I really feel like I’ve gone to prison.”

Al wasn’t commenting about the job, the people or the plant. They meant everything to him.

However, he was expressing – as only he could – how he felt about himself. This situation was at once his penance and his salvation. He knew he’d come very close to getting fired. He also knew that second chances like this were few and far between.

He was deeply indebted to those at the plant who’d stuck up for him.

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“I had never been so devastated but I never lost sight of how fortunate I was to have a job. I kept that in focus,” he said.

Six weeks earlier, however, nothing was in focus for Al. He’d just spent eight months working as a BWC sales rep, having been promoted from stores clerk, a position he’d held for 15 years. The promotion was as much a surprise for Al as it was for many others at the plant. Six other candidates had been considered for the job to replace Anne Hamilton, who had retired July 1, 1986.

“Gord Earl, our local sales manager, asked me to take over the customer service job,” Al said. “Initially, I just laughed at it, saying, ‘Are you crazy? I don’t want to leave the stores job. I’ve got the best job in this plant. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.’”

Undaunted, Gord contacted regional sales manager Bruce Broberg and asked him to see if he could persuade Al to accept the job. “Bruce was one of the most respected men who ever worked for our company,” Al said. “He sat me down for a few hours and kept telling me how I was wasting myself in the stores job; that I had far more ability than I was using. He told me they liked my positive attitude and gift of the gab, and so on. Sadly, my ego outgrew my brain and I took the job.”

It didn’t take long for Al to realize he wasn’t cut out for sales. He struggled through the training sessions and had more than a few “personality clashes” with his trainers, for whom he held no grudges. There also were those at the plant who’d nicknamed him “Gord’s Golden Boy”. They knew, even if Gord didn’t at the time, that hiring Al was a mistake.

“He picked me over some folks who probably would have been far better suited to the job than

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Al Harnden

Al Harnden in his workshop.

I was. He picked the wrong guy and they knew it. Even if I’d been able to mesh with the group, I probably would’ve still struggled because I just couldn’t switch off the stress when I left the plant at night. I’d gotten out of my zone.”

During those eight months in sales, Al lost nearly 40 pounds and suffered from deep bouts of depression and insomnia. “Finally, I had to walk into (plant manager) Doug Mathera’s office and announce that I could no longer pass through the sales door. I had hit the wall. I was a disaster.” Doug could see that Al desperately needed time away from Normar and sent him home on sick leave. Al figured his career at the plant was over.

“I was expecting a phone call any day to say that I was out of a job because I didn’t think that they could save me. With my Grade 11 education, there weren’t a lot of other management positions that I would be able to fit into. I’d proven that my abilities had been over-estimated by managers who’d given me the promotion because in their hearts they felt they were doing me a favour.”

His month and a half away from the plant – “the longest six week of my life” – allowed Al plenty of time for reflection. He’d gone through some tough times in the past. Somehow he’d get through this one – just how, he wasn’t sure.

make them proud. The fact that he was among the first 21 people hired by Marbon was an important morale booster for him.

His pals back at the tannery didn’t quite see things Al’s way. They warned him that he was taking a big risk; that no one could be sure whether this new business would survive. But Al was convinced this would be his big break. If he’d had any reservations before his interviews at Marbon, they were all but erased once he met and was interviewed by Les Boysen, Les Fraser, Leo Kowal and Karl Lenahan.

Famous mistakes Al started in shipping and receiving alongside Rick Whaley but about a month and a half later, a job opened up on the finishing floor and Al moved into production. “I became famous there in that first year – famous for making mistakes. I was a very excited young fellow who had trouble keeping his mind on what he was doing. There were about 15 ways you could mess up a batch and I did them all,” he said.

“My mistakes weren’t show-stoppers, but they were embarrassing.”

They were also a source of amusement for his coworkers and supervisors alike. Doug Irwin went so far as to develop a reward system. Al would receive a star for his hardhat if he made it through a week without screwing up. “I didn’t end up with many stars,” he laughed.

Quality control was always serious business at Normar and, while harmless pranks and joking around were part of everyday life at the plant, sometimes things would get slightly out of hand.

One did not joke around when it came to a customer’s shipment. Al learned that lesson the hard way. “Due to the fact that we were a brand new company, just entering business in Canada, they (management) were very strict in making sure we did our packaging as perfectly as possible. The tape had to be a certain length on each box and the liner had to be folded in a certain way with masking tape stretched across it to hold it down,” Al explained.

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Al was born in Havelock, Ontario, in 1947, and grew up with his two brothers and a sister on a 100-acre farm about halfway between Norwood and Warsaw, Ontario, on the Fifth Line of Dummer Township. His father had purchased the property after serving as an aircraft mechanic with the Royal Canadian Air Force in Trenton during the Second World War. He later bought another 200 acres.

“My dad was a straight-A student and a top athlete.

He probably could’ve done just about anything he wanted but much to the frustration of his mother-inlaw, he chose farming. He loved it.”

Mr. Harnden also was an exceptional role model for Al and the family, as well as in the community at large, serving as a Sunday school teacher, chairman of the local school board and an organizer of community events. Everyone knew and respected him as a man with high moral standards.

Part way through high school, Al’s world came crashing down. His 16-year-old girlfriend was pregnant. “I got married in a rush,” he said. “This was a very large blow to the family. I took it very seriously and was painfully aware of the pain I had inflicted on my family in that small community. But I made a pact with myself right at that moment that I was not going to be on the failure side of teenage married statistics.”

The two were married in May 1965. Al finished Grade 11 and then, thanks to his cousin, Chuck Harnden, on August 22, Al was hired at the Robson & Lang Tannery in downtown Cobourg, where Chuck had been working for a number of years. The tannery was a sweatshop. Employees were exposed to toxic chemicals and worked in an environment where safety certainly was not among the owner’s top priorities. Al lasted there exactly one year. He’d heard about a new plant opening up in town and was among the hundred or so people to submit applications in 1966.

Al joined Marbon Chemicals as a shipping and receiving clerk August 22, 1965 at $1.85 an hour.

He knew he was a disappointment to his family and wanted to prove he could turn his life around and

Al Harnden.

“So, being 19 and a bit of a smart ass, one time I took a magic marker and, before putting the lid on the box, wrote a note on the masking tape: ‘Help! I’m being held prisoner at Marbon Chemicals Canada,’ thinking that it would be rather humorous for a customer to open it up and get a giggle that somebody was being a goof at Cobourg.”

However, before Al could seal the box, production manager Karl Lenahan came by, spotted the message and hauled Al into Leo Kowal’s office. Karl was ready to show Al the door but Leo intervened and sent Al back to work with a stern rebuke. “I was told to get my act together, and I got the message loud and clear,” Al said.

Al was dealt a much more severe setback in 1969 when his father, just 49, was killed in a chainsaw accident. “My father’s death had a huge impact on me,” he said. “As tough as it was to deal with at the time, it probably made me a better person.” Al was deeply touched by the large number of people who turned out to pay their respects at his father’s funeral. Al knew his father was important in the community but it wasn’t until the funeral that he was able to grasp that the man he adored was truly a giant in others’ eyes as well. Al wanted to live his life in a way that would make his father proud.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 67

When Normar began planning to construct its own resin plant, Al applied for and got one of the eight operating positions in Resin even though he was lowest on the seniority list. “I didn’t think I had a hope in hell. As it turned out, perhaps due to the fact that working in the resin plant involved explosive and dangerous chemicals, a fair number of the guys didn’t want to move over there.”

Al had developed a deep respect for Borg-Warner’s safety efforts and its long-standing tradition of accident prevention. Besides, he said, “with the 20-some years experience at Parkersburg without anyone dying, they’d had it (resin production) pretty well figured out.”

Tank farm fiasco Two years later, Al took over the weigh-up and liquid pumping duties at the plant’s tank farm, replacing Steve Urch who was promoted to supervisor in Resin. The job meant regular eighthour dayshifts, five days a week, welcome relief from the rotating shifts Al had been on since he started in Resin. Then, in 1971, came Al’s famous – or infamous – “tank farm fiasco.” Martex, a gooey substance that resembles Milk of Magnesia, would be transferred from railcars to the storage tanks using air pressurized at 40 pounds per square inch.

The pumping operation required close attention, Al Harnden pumping waste chemicals, early 1980s.

not always Al’s strongest skill. “If you left the air on and you weren’t pushing liquid, you’d bubble the storage tank. And, if you bubbled Martex, you’d get a froth that would flow out of the lid of the tank and blow wherever the wind happened to be blowing,” Al said, speaking from all-too-personal experience.

“I turned the whole east side of our plant plus the neighbouring farmer’s fields completely white with Martex foam. If left in the sunlight for a couple of hours, Martex would burst into flame, so every man and every fire hose in the plant went out and washed down acres of Martex.”

Once again, Al had a brush with dismissal. While he’d been accused of falling asleep on the job, Al maintains he “simply wasn’t paying attention. I figure I bubbled the tank for just 20 minutes, but with that much PSI going into the tank, it was quite a sight.”

It was time for Al to make another career move.

He was 24 when he found his niche at Normar as the plant’s stores keeper. “I loved every moment of it,” he said. “It was a great job that I adapted to well and I was always proud of the fact that I had a good rapport with the mechanics and everybody else at the plant.”

But Al was having problems at home. After nine years, his marriage ended in divorce in May 1974

68 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

“I turned our stock room into something that our fellow Borg-Warner stores keepers and maintenance managers wanted to learn about. I put together a seminar and took it on the road.”

Sky Al Al soon became known as “The Flying Storekeeper”, or “Sky Al” for his numerous business trips to BWC plants. When Baymar and Calmar wanted to establish their own stores operations, Al was flown in as a consultant. Bob McCain, Normar’s maintenance coordinator, joined him on several trips. And, when BWC began introducing its computerized stores system, Normar was selected for its trial run. Al soon became an expert in that area as well and again was called upon to help other plants implement their automated stock control systems. “Those two developments were definitely the highest points in my career,” he said. “I have always taken great pride in knowing that I helped make them happen.”

Then, after riding the crest for 15 years, Al went through his horrible experience in sales. He credits

personnel manager Ed Jackson for helping him get his life back on track. Al was still on sick leave when Ed drove out to tell Al he had two options – quit or go back onto the production floor. But he also urged Al not to let the situation get him down.

“Don’t allow this to change the person you are,” he told Al. “You’ve still got to be Al – the guy with the jokes, the guy who’s always the emcee at retirement parties, the leader. This will be your new challenge.”

Al followed Ed’s advice. He spent two years working on the finishing floor before moving into the new Lexan sheet production unit, which went into operation shortly after the GE takeover. His final 15 years at the plant were among his happiest – and most productive, from a personal perspective. The three-day workweeks allowed Al to spend more time developing his passion for woodworking.

“The pain of the sales fiasco brought me to a wonderful part of my life,” he said in 2004. “Overall, in hindsight, I can sit back and happily say that, as a retired 57-year-old, the sales situation was just a means to an end, a tool to bring me to another stage in my life.”

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but he and his first wife parted as friends. Not long afterward, Al was chatting with personnel manager Ed Jackson and, half-joking, told Ed that if he were hiring any women, “make sure they’re in my age bracket.”

On May 13, Normar hired Barb Deviney. She and Al were married October 4, 1975.

By then, Al had been running the stores department for four years. He was responsible for ordering, storing and distributing spare parts for every piece of equipment in the plant, as well as everything from pencils to copier paper. Al was meticulous about his work and always on the lookout for ways to improve the stores system. A simple request in 1979

by Normar’s head electrician, John Reid, led Al to develop an entirely new system, one that eventually would be adopted by all BWC stores operations in North America.

“John was having problems with the way circuit boards were being stored. The boards were very delicate and could easily be damaged by static electricity. He’d seen an ad in a magazine for special cabinets that were static-proof and asked me to order one,” Al said.

When the salesman arrived with the new cabinet, he showed Al a whole new line of heavy-duty, modular, sliding-drawer bins that had just come onto the market. “I figured that if I could take three of our large, open-faced, pigeon-hole-style cabinets and put them into one of the modular units, I could cut my storage space by two-thirds of the required square footage to store the same parts,” Al said. He went straight to his manager, Ernie Everingham, and persuaded him to begin converting Normar’s stores to the new system.

The cabinets carried a fairly hefty price tag – between $1,200 and $1,500 each. The overall conversion would top $80,000. The original plan was to gradually convert the stores over a period of years but Al was able to persuade management to do the conversion in less than one year. In addition, Normar gave Al the money he needed to panel the walls, hang a suspended ceiling and tile the floors.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 69

Off to See the Wizard

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Barb Harnden (née Deviney)

Barb Deviney gazed out of the school bus as it rolled east along County Road 2 toward Vernonville. She was on her way home from Cobourg’s East High School. It was late on a winter afternoon in the early 1970s and, as the bus crossed Normar Road, Barb could just make out an eerie, green glow far to the right, in the darkening skies down by the lake.

“I didn’t know what was down there,” she said.

“The silos were green and at night the plant was always lit up. I liked to think it was the Emerald City from the Wizard of Oz. It was kind of weird that I’d end up working there a few years later.”

Her imagined Emerald City was, of course, BorgWarner Chemicals’ Normar plant. And that’s where Barb’s Yellow Brick Road would lead her.

After finishing high school, Barb enrolled at Sir Sandford Fleming College in Peterborough and

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earned a diploma in secretarial science, with a specialty in legal secretarial services.

Her goal was to join a law firm, preferably one close to home.

However, just before graduation, her accounting teacher, Don Sheppard, called her into his office.

“Emerald City” was looking for a receptionist.

“I have the perfect girl for you,” Sheppard told BWC’s controller, Ron Sargent. “She’s a bubbly thing, just out college, did really well and had great marks.” Barb, barely 21, wasn’t so sure about the opportunity.

“I told Mr. Sheppard I really didn’t want to work in an industry; that I wanted to work in a legal firm, but he said it was a good, up-and-coming company and that I should go and apply,” Barb said. But Barb wasn’t really interested in a full-time job – at least not right away. Like a lot of young college graduates, she wanted to take a break. “But Mr. Sheppard told me the job started as soon as school was finished.”

Barb, with a little coaxing from her father, headed off for the interview late in April 1974. A familiar face, personnel manager Ed Jackson greeted her.

Barb had gone to high school with Ed’s son and knew the family well. Rather than being nervous during the interview, Barb was her chatty self and

quite comfortable speaking with Ed, all the while believing she was just going through the motions, not really wanting the job and not thinking for a moment she’d get it.

“Well, they hired me! Of course, my parents were thrilled,” she said. “I finished school at the end of April and I started there May 13, 1974 – full time – which was a luxury because some people had to work in temporary status first before becoming permanent (employees).”

Barb was in her element. Normar – The Emerald City – was a fun place to work; there were phones to be answered and lots of comings and goings: customers, suppliers, contractors and employees. She greeted them all. But she still hadn’t encountered “The Wizard”. Just who was the mysterious man behind the curtain?

The guy behind the curtain “The guy behind the curtain? That had to be Leo,” she laughed, referring to Leo Kowal, the plant manager. Leo had been away on business during Barb’s first week. She’d heard a lot about him but had yet to see him in person. “The day he came in, he just walked through the door, said hi, and headed toward his office. I thought he knew where he was going. Everybody seemed to know who he was, except me.”

A few moments later, Leo returned to the reception area. Looking Barb squarely in the eye, in a stern voice he said, “Aren’t you supposed to ask people who they are before they go walking into the office area? You know, that’s not very good security to just let me walk through like that. You didn’t even ask me who I was!”

Barb figured right then and there that her first week probably would be her last. “I’d never really worked in a real job before,” she said. “I’d picked strawberries and worked as a tour guide at the Barnum House Museum in Grafton, but nothing like this. I thought Leo was going to fire me for sure; he seemed so gruff. I was petrified.”

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Leo, of course, was just being Leo – not a cowardly lion, but certainly not an evil wizard, either. His growl was far worse than his bite.

Smashing performance A few months later Barb’s famous “hip” event was something she was sure would have her headed for the unemployment office. She was in town with her parents and remembered she’d left her coat behind at the office. Her parents drove her to the plant.

“I went over to the lab to get the key to the office.

I opened the glass door, got my coat and then as I was leaving, I tried to lock the door but the bolt wouldn’t turn all the way. So I just swung my hip to push it in and crash, the door shattered completely.

I didn’t get hurt, but I thought, oh God, what am I going to do?”

Terrified, Barb went back to the lab to return the key. One of the lab technicians took one look at her and asked what was wrong. “My face was ash white. I told him what had happened and asked if I’d get fired.

He just laughed and told me not to worry, I wouldn’t get fired.”

The following Monday, the door had been covered with cardboard. “Everybody figured somebody had broken into the office,” she said. “But when they found out what really happened, they started teasing me about having great hips; being able to knock out a door like that. I’d walk by somebody and they’d say, ‘Hey, Barb, I’m having trouble with the door.

Want to give it a smack for me?’” The office door was replaced a short while later, this time reinforced with wire caging – something not even Barb’s famous hips could break through.

Barb soon got to know most everyone in the plant.

During her first week, she was taken around and introduced to people on the shop floor. Everyone seemed warm and friendly, except for the stores keeper, Al Harnden.

“I knew the family name, Harnden, from people I went to school with. His uncles and aunts lived

in Grafton and I went to school with one of his cousins, so I figured this is nice, here’s a guy I know, but he acted very cool toward me. I didn’t know he’d just been separated from his wife, so he was sort of a shattered soul at the time.” She later learned about Al’s situation from others in the main office. There were few secrets in Normar’s extended family. That summer, though, she and Al struck up a brief relationship.

“Al and I started dating for a while, but it was too intense because of his separation. I was just out of college. I didn’t want all that intensity, I just wanted to have fun.” The two went their separate ways for a while but rekindled their romance a few months later. They became engaged in March 1975, were married in October, and have been together ever since.

In the meantime, Barb had applied for a position as a junior secretary, working in the same department as Barbara Acorn, the plant manager’s secretary. When Barbara Acorn moved into personnel, an opening was created for the position of plant manager’s secretary. Cathy Usborne took over for Barbara. When Cathy briefly left Normar and returned as secretary to the sales manager, newlywed Barb Harnden replaced her as plant manager’s secretary. By then the plant manager was Ron Bowman.

“Once again, I didn’t feel that I was capable of handling that job because it seemed to be such

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 7 1

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a powerful position,” Barb said. She would work with five other plant managers in a period covering more than 10 years – Doug Mathera, Jack Russell, Randy Morris, Tom Bouchard and Joe Bleull.

Along with many employees, Barb was active in organizing the many special events and social gatherings, including family-day picnics and building a float for the annual Cobourg Santa Claus Parade.

She also served as editor of Normarac. One of the more popular events organized by Normar’s social committee was the annual employees’ car rally.

The rally/scavenger hunt, which often began and ended at the Baltimore Community Centre, involved a great deal of advance planning. Participants would have to solve cryptic clues along the route.

“It was a lot of fun, but also hard work,” Barb said.

“We’d have a potluck meal and a dance with a disc jockey afterwards. I must admit there was a fair bit of drinking involved. There’s no way we could do something like that today. Whoever won the rally got the lovely task of having to make up the rally for the next year; kind of a painful prize.”

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Barb was among a group of about 10 employees who each year was involved with coming up with a new float for the Santa Claus parade. After a few years, it seemed as if the task was always falling to the same people, and for several years the parade did without a Borg-Warner float. However, she said, some of that original spirit now has been rekindled and the plant once again participates in the annual parade.

“We thought it was kind of embarrassing that we didn’t have some kind of representation, so we’re back in the parade. I’m very proud of working

GEP Cobourg administration building.

here and so I take pride in having the company recognized in the community as a company that gets involved.”

Barb enjoys participating in the annual Relay for Life event and the United Way’s dragon boat races.

She and Al also volunteer for the annual Shelter Valley Folk Festival held over three days in early September. Aengus Finnan, the festival’s artistic director, organizes the event, which has featured such marquee performers as Valdy, the Sweet Water Women, Tanglefoot and Rick Fines.

“They have all kinds of other things – wellness programs and artisans – and I’m kind of an artsywellness-natural-living kind of person, so it appeals to me.”

Barb, now in order management, was to celebrate her 32nd anniversary at the plant in May 2006. She calls GE Plastics her “life’s work”, but, because she’s been involved in so many aspects of the company’s evolution, there’s never been a dull moment. “I really have changed with the company,” she said.

Extruding the News – Normarac As employee newsletters go, Normarac could never be described as slick. It wasn’t intended to be. And, except for the occasional management musings one might expect to find in any company newsletter, most of Normarac’s space was dedicated to, well, people stuff – comings and goings, births and deaths, appointments, retirements, kids’ achievements, special events, sports stories, fishing yarns and news about get-togethers.

For a while, there were even classified ads, and listings of the latest price for gasoline at the NEAC employee gas bar, launched in 1976. That year, gas was 73 cents a gallon, or about 19 cents a litre! Originated by Ron Sargent and Ray Blakely in 1968, Normarac was written, edited and produced by NEAC members. Over the years, a variety of people served as editors, contributors, illustrators and cartoonists. Its title was a combination of the word “Normar” and the letters A and C, from “activity club”.

Here are a few snippets from some of the earlier issues:

December 1969:

Marbon float wins honours at Christmas parade “The Santa Claus Parade, which was held on December 6, proved a great hit. The float sponsored

by Marbon and entered by Miles Jackson and his friends, was given honourable mention for a contraption called ‘Moon Rover,’ which was actually a three-strutted hover craft.”

Trailers no more “During the past week, the office staff moved into the new building. There is still some confusion and last-minute jobs to be completed, but it is most pleasant to have our group under one roof, and, of course to bid farewell to the trailers that housed some of our staff for the last two years.”

March 1972:

Normar pitches in to help Art and Margaret Hamilton Ray Blakely writes: “From all indication, the present-

day trend in this world of ours would appear to be ‘man’s inhumanity to man.’ Since the tragic fire at the home of Art and Margaret Hamilton, we have had the opportunity here at Normar to see this trend reversed, and kindness and generosity at its best.

“To Dave and Marg Loucks, our sincere admiration and thanks for their kindness in opening their home to the Hamilton family during the difficult period of adjustment following the fire, and their assistance in helping them to re-establish their own home nearby.

An example, I am sure, we would all do well to remember.

“Our thanks to everyone who donated to this cause. Our employees will be pleased to know that the total Marbon contribution – $1,523 – has now been turned over to the family, as well as articles of clothing, furniture and household appliances so generously contributed.”

From Art Hamilton, on behalf of his family: “I never realized before just how small the word

‘thanks’ was and what it meant until I tried to express my thanks to the Normar employees.

There is no way the word can express the way we feel toward Normar, NEAC, and the men and women involved. We have lost a great deal due to our recent fire, but we have gained much in love and respect toward all the people who have helped us. We thank you.”

October 1974:

Recipe “How to Preserve Children”: Ingredients: One grassy field, six children, two or three dogs.

“A pinch of brook and some small pebbles. Mix the children and the dogs well together and put them in the field, stirring constantly. Pour the brook over the pebbles, sprinkle the field with flowers, spread over all a deep blue sky, and bake in a hot sun. When thoroughly browned, remove and set to cool in a bathtub.”

January 23, 1975 (special edition):

Safety milestone “Today Normar employees established a new safety record by working over 500,000 hours with no losttime accidents. This has been achieved over the last 19 months and, according to Ed Jackson, safety supervisor, it reflects the excellent safety attitude of everyone working at Normar.”

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 73

They’re known for quality, And good service, too.

Ask GN or NT Or even EMU. When it comes to safety They sure are the best.

Cleanliness and caution, They too pass the test.

They are known as Normar, I think you can see That they are a part of BWC.

December 1979:

Poetry corner: “Ode to BWC” (By “G.H.”) There is a company On Cobourg’s east side; Tops in the industry They are known worldwide.

Sometimes they are busy, Sometimes they are not.

It just doesn’t matter, They give it their best shot.

Friendly and courteous Are employees, all; They serve all customers, The big and the small.

They’re making more colours Than a fish has scales; Improving their products Thus boosting their sales.

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Normarac’s format changed little during its first 10 years. Articles often were handwritten and submitted to the editor. Secretarial staff typed up the stories and cut stencils, because for the first year or so, Normarac was run off on an old Gestetner duplicating machine, with the potent odour of duplicating ink wafting through the admin office. Once Normar installed modern, high-speed photocopiers, production was a much quicker and simpler task. Then, of course, when desktop publishing computer programs made their way into the plant, Normarac took on a much more polished appearance. But, for many, it just wasn’t the same anymore and, eventually, Normarac was shelved.

Chemline Beginning in November 1977, Chemline, published every other month for the employees and families of Borg-Warner Chemicals, became Normar’s other official company newspaper. A 12-page, tab-format newsletter, Chemline was produced out of head office in Parkersburg, West Virginia, and was mailed directly to employees’ homes across the system.

Its first editor, Connie Groth36, said Chemline was designed to give employees a view of BWC beyond their respective plants. Its purpose, she wrote in the first issue was: “To tell you what’s happening and how it might affect you; to give you straight answers to important questions; to show you what other employees do; to show others what you do; to tell you about BWC’s products and markets, its successes and problems; to analyse the present and look toward the future; to have some fun.”

Unlike many corporate newsletters of the day – all, of course, professing to provide open, two-way communication – Chemline actually made good on this promise. In many ways it reflected the thinking of BWC’s senior management, especially that of president Len Harvey, who was a firm believer in delivering the straight goods.

Chemline tackled tough issues, openly discussed business challenges, dealt with touchy issues and criticism, and shared key strategic policy direction and plans. It also responded to employee concerns and questions. Naturally, with more than 2,500 employees in seven facilities across North America, Chemline could not be all things to all people, but it did provide a wide range of coverage, concentrating on employee achievement, with stories about Normar and its people appearing on a fairly frequent basis. Chemline was well written and edited, professionally designed and printed.

One of the first “Canadian content” features was about (what else?) hockey.

he explained. “Every kid knows when he makes a mistake. If necessary, I’ll take him aside and talk to him, but I don’t yell at him in front of the other boys.”

Hockey, both men agree, is a rough and competitive game. In hockey, you must be fleet of both mind and body or risk, as Terry puts it, “getting creamed.”

“You have to be able to think fast. You have to decide in a split second whether to go for the puck or get out of the way,” Terry explained.

The 13-year-olds that Terry and Lorne coached wore helmets and facemasks because of the roughness of the game. Parents don’t object too much to that aspect of hockey, Lorne said, but, like parents everywhere, they get upset if their boy sits on the bench for too long.

“Pucksters” talk about a rough game (An excerpt from Chemline, May/June 1978)

Two Normar men coached a hockey team that went all the way to the Ontario finals, the first Cobourg team to advance that far in 13 years.

For his efforts, Lorne Vance was presented a “Coach-of-the-Year” award by the Cobourg Church Hockey League. He credited his assistant coach, Terry Lewis, with contributing generously. Lorne is supervisor of utilities and projects and Terry is a chemical operator at Normar.

Lorne said their team, the Kirkup Minor Bantams, got to the finals because “We had some good hockey players, and they played hard.” The team came in second after losing its final game 4-3. There were 26 teams involved in the Ontario playoffs.

Lorne’s coaching technique differs from some of his counterparts. “I don’t holler at the boys,”

Hockey ranks #1 in popularity among sports in Canada. In Cobourg, a town of 13,000, Lorne estimated that 700 boys from ages seven to 18 participate in the hockey league. The town has two indoor hockey rinks.

GE ranks us high among suppliers (Chemline, November/December 1978)

To mark its 100th birthday, General Electric has given “Centennial Awards” to its top 100 suppliers.

Borg-Warner Chemicals is part of that elite group, chosen from approximately 10,000 vendors from all over the world who sell GE everything from plastics to metals to electrical components.

Plastics VP Joe Sakach said several factors were considered in choosing the top suppliers, including importance of the product, reliability, and innovativeness in product development. GE uses CTB, the clear grade of our Cycolac, in refrigerator crisper trays; GE also was the customer who bought our first bulk railcar shipment of N-14 pellets.

Cobourg band will visit Parkersburg (Chemline, March/April 1979) A long-standing friendship between two girls will soon result in a band from Cobourg, Ontario, visiting Parkersburg, West Virginia.

Carolyn Boysen, daughter of Les Boysen, lived in Cobourg with her family from 1966 to 1969, when her dad was plant manager at Normar. Since 1969, when Carolyn and her

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 75

Smoking – we quit!

Peter Holden on why he likes exercising: “I like the results”

Compared to many people, Barbara Acorn said she had a relatively easy time quitting cigarettes, because “I was never really a heavy smoker. It wasn’t too hard for me to stop.”

Barbara mentioned one factor in her decision to quit: her children then aged 13 and 16. She said that children nowadays are very health and environment conscious, and often pressure their parents to do things like quit smoking.

“When your kids cough, choke, and yell ‘pollution’ every time you light up, it gets to be a dicey situation,” she laughed.

Obviously, this type of child-pressure works on some parents, because they fear they are setting a bad example, or perhaps because they know that they may be harming their health and this affects a child’s security. Pressure from a spouse, on the other hand, does not seem to be so successful, and, in fact, sometimes angers the smoker to the point where, out of pure perversity, they will not stop smoking because of the pressure.

Barbara agrees with this analysis and adds, “The decision must ultimately be one that you make.

You’re the only one who can do it.”

(Chemline, November/December 1979)

(Chemline, September/October 1979)

family returned to Parkersburg, she has kept up correspondence with a girlfriend from Cobourg, Christine Nelson. It just so happens that Chris is president of the Cobourg District Collegiate Institute East Band. She wrote Carolyn and told her that the Cobourg band makes a trip every year; she asked about the possibility of visiting Parkersburg. Carolyn put Chris in touch with the Parkersburg High School band. Carolyn is currently a senior at PHS. The outcome is that the Cobourg band will be visiting Parkersburg for several days in May. Although the details of the band’s appearance had not been worked out at press time, it was believed the band would make at least one appearance open to the public.

76 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

Are you the type of person who believes the fellow jogging down the street has been blessed with special running hormones?

Are you convinced that people who exercise love to crawl out of their warm beds an hour early in the morning?

Do you believe that fitness buffs have no desire to flop down on the couch after a hard day’s work and turn on the TV? You’re wrong. However, you can be forgiven if you occasionally feel exercise addicts are somehow superhuman. But the fact is, they aren’t superhuman at all. In fact, most people involved in fitness programs began them for very human reasons.

Perhaps they were tired of trying to avoid the fulllength mirror on the bathroom door – particularly right after they crawled out of the bathtub. Perhaps they are simply tired of feeling tired all the time.

Perhaps they felt and looked just fine – and wanted to make sure they stayed that way.

Take Peter Holden, for example. Peter was, last year, judged to be the fittest man in Cobourg, Ontario, by the local YMCA. Yet Peter is, by all standards, purely human. He, in fact, admits outright that for him exercise is more pain than pleasure. “One of the reasons I exercise is because it feels so good when I stop,” he laughed.

“Exercising is work. Some people get hooked on, say, running, but I exercise not because it’s fun, but because I like the results.”

Peter, who is QC manager at Normar, believes very firmly in the need for and benefits of regular exercise, but he is not an activity evangelist. “I don’t preach; but I do advise people who come to me and ask about getting into an exercise program,” he said.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 77

Compounding the Issue

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Late in 1966 as Normar’s compounding operation was up and running relatively smoothly, Les Boysen started thinking about whether he really needed a seven-man crew to run the production units. He went to Karl Lenahan, the compounding manager, and floated the idea of reducing each crew to six.

Karl resisted, but Les was persistent.

“I kept fighting against it,” Karl said, “mostly because I wasn’t sure what would happen to the other guys.”

Finally, Les backed off. Had he known at the time what would happen during the Christmas party later that year, perhaps he would have changed his mind.

“I’ll never forget that first Christmas party,” Karl said. “Les came over to me and asked whether we should have drinks and serve wine. He was kind of concerned about the guys who’d be going into work

78 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

that night. I told him I thought it would be OK, but just to be on the safe side, I went over and told the guys to make sure they cooled it a bit that night.”

The men all agreed to take it easy during the party.

Karl and his wife, Joan, were sitting with Les and his wife, Ruth, enjoying themselves and watching the rest of the crew having a good time as well – perhaps a little too good a time.

“Everybody had had a few drinks and was having fun but, as the evening wore on, Les came over to me and said, ‘Jeez, those guys seem to be knocking them back pretty good. It’s getting close to shift time and I think they’re drinking a bit too much.’”

So Karl went over and had a quiet chat with a few of his men and was reassured that everything was fine, and that they’d be OK once it came time to head over to the plant. “Once they left to go on shift, I thought there was going to be a complete disaster but I swore I wasn’t going to go in unless I got a phone call,” Karl said. “But, just to make sure, I got up bright and early the next morning and I went in, figuring the place would be in a shambles – but I’ll be damned if they hadn’t set a production record!”

Karl was astounded. It wasn’t until the following Friday while he was out having a few beers with his crew that he found out what had really happened.

“I’ll be darned, they were running their own shifts,” he said. “Three of them would be in the bathroom sleeping, while the other four guys were running the whole damned line! I’m sure I never told Les or Leo that because I didn’t want them to know we could run the line with just four guys.”

Karl kept the crew’s secret, but also earned their undying loyalty. Whenever extra effort was required, they cheerfully delivered. “I don’t believe anybody can put out a hundred-per-cent effort all of the time, maybe in spurts, but not continually.” Karl said. “But

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Karl Lenahan

Karl and Joan Lenahan.

I knew I wouldn’t have any worries after that party.

I knew I could go in every once in a while and ask them to put in a little extra effort, and they would.”

Karl, now 72, spent just two years at Normar before leaving in 1968 to become part of the design team at Eldorado Nuclear’s Port Hope refinery, eventually becoming its plant manager. While his time at Marbon may have been short, he credits Les Boysen and Leo Kowal with providing him not only valuable lessons on running a plant, but also the importance of treating employees well.

Born in Owen Sound in 1933, at five years of age Karl moved with his parents to Port Hope where his father started an upholstery business.

After high school, Karl went to Queen’s University in Kingston, graduating in 1957 with a degree in chemical engineering. A short while later he was hired as a process engineer at AMF Atomics, a nuclear fuel manufacturing facility in Port Hope, where he worked until being hired by Les Boysen at Marbon. Boysen sent Karl off to Parkersburg to learn the fine art of running extruders. Woodmar was running Banburys but had an old extruder they used for training purposes.

“They put me on this tiny thing – it was even smaller than the ones we had at Normar – they started it up, showed me how to string it and then said, ‘OK,

Karl, you’re on your own.’ I burned my hands many times trying to get those damned strands going,” he laughed. Karl finally got the hang of things and was eager to get back to Cobourg where Normar’s extrusion equipment was all but ready to go into operation. He remembers being on hand when they started up the machines for the first time. “I thought we’d do a couple of tests just to check them out, but as soon as we got them running Les says ‘OK, you’re in production now,’ and that was it.”

It wasn’t easy going. The machines were finicky and prone to breakdowns. Karl was glad there were some experienced operators sent up from Parkersburg to help the “newbie” Canadians figure out how to run the equipment – and keep it running.

“There was one guy, very experienced, from Parkersburg. He was working with me when one of the machines shut down. We worked on that thing for hours trying to get it back up but I finally had to go home, I’d been working 18 hours straight.” Karl grabbed a few hours’ sleep and then went back to the plant. “Well, when I came in, wouldn’t you know it, he had the damned thing running. I was amazed.

There was this real production attitude among the Americans, something I was glad to learn. You kept the equipment going. That stuck with me all my life.”

burned pellet. ‘Look,’ I said, ‘there’s another one.’

He goes over, picks it out, tosses it away and says, ‘What pellet?’ So, here I was, this naïve Canadian who’d just picked up a little bit of American knowhow right then and there.”

As Karl and his crew became more and more proficient, they kept looking for ways to improve the operation. No one seemed to mind the long hours and hard work. Karl believes Normar’s strong work ethic had a lot to do with Borg-Warner’s – and Les Boysen’s – hiring practices.

Keep on Truckin’ Mayor Forrest Rowden

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Pellet? What pellet?

Karl also learned a few tricks of the trade when it came to quality control issues. Both Ed Kraushar and Bill Finley were sticklers when it came to product quality. If one pellet didn’t meet their standards, the whole 1,000-pound lot was scrapped. Karl was running an order of clear plastic pellets. They were particularly tough to run in that they had a tendency to sometimes come out a tad overdone – burned, to be precise.

“So this same American guy comes over and I tell him I’ve been having a hell of a time with these clear plastic pellets. I told him I had 4,000 pounds of rejects and then, all of a sudden, out comes another

“I remember Les telling me one of his hiring philosophies. He’d find out a lot about a guy’s background and if it happened to be a farmer, Les would look at the guy’s hands and, if he had all his fingers, he’d hire him. He knew who was used to hard work.”

Karl applied a lot of what he learned at Normar to his job as plant manager at Eldorado – stringent safety practices, high standards of quality and, most important as far as he was concerned, “people smarts”. He retired from Eldorado in 1985.

Forrest Rowden bumped along the ice-and-snowcovered gravel road, carefully guiding his TorontoPeterborough Transport truck toward the Marbon

Chemicals plant. It was nearly Christmas, 1966, and this was his first introduction to a company that would serve him well for the next 39 years.

Forrest was to pick up a load of ABS plastic pellets destined for one of the Big Three automakers. As he pulled up to the plant he noticed with some dismay that there was no loading dock, just a rickety, old, portable ramp. As he manoeuvred his rig and gingerly backed in toward the loading area, Marbon’s Rick Whaley trotted out and began positioning the ramp.

Forrest climbed out of his cab to have a look. As he pulled open the back of his trailer, Rick ducked back inside. The next thing Forrest heard was the whine of a forklift. With a 1,000-pound box of pellets teetering on the three-tonne forklift’s tines, Rick floored the ancient machine and sped toward the open end of Forrest’s trailer.

“I didn’t think he was going to make it,” Forrest said with a chuckle. “It was really slippery and he had to take quite a run at it just to get up the ramp.

I just made damn sure I stayed the heck out of the cab because he didn’t have a lot of room to stop that thing.”

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 79

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This was one of the fledgling plant’s first major orders, and Forrest had the honour of being among the first truckers to haul for Marbon’s modest Canadian operation. He’s still amazed that Rick didn’t ram right through his trailer. “Of course, they’d never get away with pulling a stunt like that today,” Forrest said. “Safety has always been their number one concern. They only used that ramp for one winter until they got a proper loading dock installed.”

Today, Forrest is mayor of Hamilton Township, population 10,120. GE Plastics is his community’s biggest and most respected employer. Not only does the plant contribute in a major way to the township’s tax coffers, nearly half of Normar’s employees live in Forrest’s community. “We’re certainly proud to have GE Plastics as one of our main industries,” he said. “But it goes way beyond that. Many of their employees over the years have been very active within the community.”

Aside from pitching in with various fundraising activities, several of Normar’s employees have served with the township in other ways, including

service with the volunteer fire department. Longserving Normar employee Bob Latchford was a firefighter for nearly 30 years until his retirement from the department in 2004. The township currently has 60 volunteer firefighters serving in three fire departments.

“The health, safety and fire protection skills Bob learned through GE’s great program at the plant, he brought to the township and encouraged other volunteer firefighters to take special training. Our recent recognition by the fire marshal’s office for excellent service was due in large part to Bob’s efforts,” Forrest said.

GE Plastics also is a major sponsor of Hamilton Township’s new Baltimore recreational centre, currently under construction. Normar employees have been instrumental in raising funds for the centre and GE has pledged to match what they raise. “It’s a five-year commitment by GE. They’ve committed $100,000 toward the project,” Forrest said. “So far, they’ve raised more than $20,000.”

‘Relay for Life’ “(Plant Manager) Steve Rosa and (HR Specialist) Diane Saunders are really behind this effort, as well

GEP’s emergency response team practises with local firefighters.

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as the Relay for Life fundraising event for cancer research. I’ve been participating in the Relay for Life project with their teams for the past two years.”

GE is a supporting sponsor of the Relay for Life program, and Diane Saunders has served as the event’s sponsorship director and volunteer coordinator. About a thousand people participated in the second annual event held June 3, 2005 at St. Mary’s School in Cobourg, Northumberland County.

More than 130 communities across Canada take part in the program, which involves 10-member teams who circle a track for a full 12 hours, with at least one team member in motion during the entire event.

The Northumberland relay began at 7 p.m. with a “Victory Lap,” during which cancer survivors made the first trip around the school’s quarter-mile oval.

The community’s relay in 2004 raised more than $200,000.

GE Plastics’ employees, he added, have always been generous with their time and money.

“It’s been a tradition at Normar, ever since the Borg-Warner days. Management has always encouraged their people to get involved and they’ve done whatever it takes to support that involvement.

They’re just great corporate citizens.”

Core Philosophy

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love beads, bell-bottomed jeans, peasant dresses, the pungent odour of patchouli oil and, well, certain other herbaceous scents. Incidentally, it also was the last time the hapless Toronto Maple Leafs won the Stanley Cup. It was a big year for Ken Ellis, too. On February 1, 1967, he started work at Marbon Chemicals, later to become GE Plastics Cobourg.

Fast forward to 2005. There will be no Stanley Cup awarded this year. The NHL players and owners are locked in a bitter labour struggle. It’s made for a long winter for die-hard hockey fans. It’s now early April and Ken pulls his shiny, black Ford F-150 pickup into the parking lot at the GE plant.

He steps out and saunters toward the main gate where, inside, Joe Hetherington, one of the plant’s security guards, meets him. Joe, who’s been on the job here for more than a decade, has just been equipped with a new you. Just one word.” computerized check-in system. He keys in Ken’s name. There’s some idle banter about the crummy weather while Joe taps away at the keyboard, and then he presents Ken and the guest with ID badges.

Ken really doesn’t need one. Just about everybody in the plant knows Ken. Maybe so, but nobody gets past Joe. Joe leans over the desk. “You wearing safety boots, sir?” he says to Ken’s guest, who lifts a pant leg to reveal CSA-approved boots. Joe notices, however, that Ken isn’t wearing safety footwear. “Whoa,” he says, “You’ve gotta put these things on, Ken.” Joe

Walter Brooke: “I just want to say one word to Dustin Hoffman: “Yes, sir.”

Walter Brooke: “Are you listening?”

Dustin Hoffman: “Yes, I am.”

Walter Brooke: “Plastics.”37 - From “The Graduate” (1967), MGM It was a year like no other – 1967 – Canada’s centennial, Bobby Gimby and the fabulous Expo 67; the “Summer of Love”; the war in Vietnam and, of course, The Graduate, a film about lost innocence.

The film said a lot about the times, and a little bit about plastics. Those of us who were around that year will remember the Beatles, the Rolling Stones,

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Ken Ellis

Joe Hetherington.

offers Ken a pair of clumsy-looking, steel-toed, slipon toe rubbers. Joe also hands Ken and his guest hard hats and safety glasses. Ken sheepishly pulls on the toe rubbers and begins a tour of the plant.

“Health issues” have kept Ken off the job for a number of months, on long-term disability. It’s not something he likes to talk about, but suffice it to say, he’s battling a serious illness. He’s turned the corner, though, and the prognosis now is quite good.

Ken knows the plant inside out, and is one of GEP’s longest-serving, most respected and most loved employees. As he and his guest make their way into the production area, one employee after another pumps Ken’s hand.

“How’s it goin’ old-timer?” shouts one.

“Hey, Ken, gettin’ any?” another wants to know.

Ken just chuckles and waves. Most of these people have known Ken since they started work at Normar.

He’s trained, worked with or supervised many of them, and has spent countless off-the-job hours with them and many other current and former GEP employees – at company events, socializing, playing golf, hockey or softball, hunting and fishing.

There are lots of familiar faces, but a few new ones, as well. Business is good these days, and the plant

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Originally from Campbellford, Ken left high school in Grade 11 to help out at home after his father, an Ontario Hydro worker, suffered a heart attack.

Ken got a job at Rutherford’s Dairy at a time when the company still had a couple of horses and milk wagons. In 1964, he joined General Motors, installing transmissions. He was there for two years until the plant went on strike, followed by a big layoff.

“I never got called back, even though I could install 49 transmissions an hour,” he said. Ken drew unemployment insurance and, when that ran out, during the fall of ’66 he picked apples. The Marbon job could not have come at a better time.

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Pigment allergy

Old NF Line six-inch extruder, 1996, since replaced.

is running at close to capacity. With a workforce approaching an all-time high of 200, there are nearly five times as many employees working there today as there were 39 years ago when Ken joined Marbon. So much has changed.

Ken is proud of his contribution to GEP’s success, but steadfastly maintains it was teamwork that brought the plant to where it is today. He’s overly modest. Just ask Steve Rosa, GEP’s site leader. He knows how important Ken was to the plant’s survival. Or, for that matter, ask any of the former plant managers. Each one was glad to have Ken on hand.

Ken is pragmatic about the plant’s evolution.

Sure, there were the “good old days,” he says. But

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that was then, and this is now – “the good new days”. People have changed, too. In the early years, most of Normar’s employees were drawn from a fairly tight catchment area – from Port Hope to Colborne. Today they may come from as far away as Belleville or Oshawa. But there still remains a core group of employees who were around when Normar got its start.

Many of the first employees either grew up in Cobourg, on farms or in the many rural communities nearby. Most knew one another’s families and frequently attended public and high school together.

Marbon made a point of hiring people who demonstrated a willingness to work hard and who believed in strong family values.

At first, Ken was put to work operating the Henschel but, much to his and management’s dismay, he learned he had an allergy to the pigments being used. “I don’t think the management team had seen anything like that before,” he said. A decision was made to move Ken into the shipping and receiving department, which at the time was just getting set up. In the interim, while S&R was getting organized, Ken was temporarily assigned to operating extruders.

“The shipping and receiving idea kind of went by the wayside. They told me I was doing such a good job on the extruders that they decided to leave me there because this was the heart of the business, anyway.” The “temporary” assignment would last 20 years. During that time, Ken developed strong bonds – both with his co-workers and with management.

Ken escorts his guest through the production area, explaining the various steps involved in making plastic pellets and sheeting. It’s an orderly, efficient process. But it wasn’t always this way.

Ken was 24 when he joined Normar, about six months after the plant had begun production in earnest. It hadn’t been the easiest start-up.

There were problems with equipment. The resins shipped from Marbon’s U.S. plants weren’t always formulated to work properly on Normar’s little

team who set standards of excellence and stressed the importance of treating employees well.

“Les Fraser was a gentleman’s gentleman, always prim and proper,” Ken said. “If you did something to upset him, he could chastise you without you even knowing it. He had a way with people.

He’d set you straight and Ken wiring up his exhaust system at a Ken being wheel-barrowed by Rick Whaley, 1970. you didn’t know it until it family day picnic in 1970. hit you a week later. You’d extruders. And few of the plant’s early employees say to yourself, ‘the son of a gun actually gave me had much experience in making plastic. shit!’”

“There was a lot of trial and error, because Boysen, Fraser and Leo Kowal were all managers everybody was still learning.” Basically, he said, that employees wouldn’t hesitate to go to with everybody was in the same boat, with Les Boysen at problems or to float ideas. “Boysen and Kowal were the helm. Boysen’s spirit was infectious. He’d set a father figures. Les Fraser was more the grandfather course and, come hell or high water, he and his crew type,” Ken said. were going to get there.

“With Boysen setting the pace, the plant was A few cold ones charged with energy. There were many long nights, fraught with frustration, as production crews While Boysen and Kowal rarely would turn down struggled to get material “on-colour”. an opportunity to knock back a few cold ones with “As much as anything, it was a matter of selfthe boys, Fraser was more reserved, preferring to satisfaction,” Ken said. “Lots of times, I’d go in at attend the more formal social events. seven o’clock in the morning and might not go Rehashing the day’s work at a local watering home until noon the next day, then be back at hole was a way to unwind. “We always used to joke the plant at four o’clock that afternoon because it that you had to be a social drinker to be hired at finally came to me what was wrong – sometimes Marbon,” Ken said. you just had to get away from the environment.”

Toward the end of 1968 and into 1969, things Boysen, he said, “would work in the trenches began to level off somewhat at Normar. Ken and with you. We’d be there all night trying to get the his co-workers had learned a lot in those formative material on-colour. He’d be there all night also, years and had managed to get a lot of the bugs out and, if you were having a problem, he’d be there, of the production system. Clearly, it was time to too.” expand. Two new extruders were brought in about For the plant’s young and impressionable that time – brand-new equipment, for a change employees, witnessing Boysen’s leadership and – including an extruder with a six-inch diameter management styles left a lasting imprint. Les Fraser screw. The smaller, original equipment was was another member of the early management pumping out product at the rate of between 125

and 150 pounds an hour. The six-inch machine was capable of producing up to 5,000 pounds an hour.

Normar had come of age.

The production staff welcomed the new equipment whole heartedly. It would mean fewer headaches and being able to meet growing customer demand. But, as might be expected, a lot of the techniques used on the old machines didn’t always transfer well to the newer ones. A nagging problem was the fact that many of the products were developed on the big Banbury machines, used in the American plants.

“You couldn’t co-ordinate a Banbury to an extruder very well,” Ken explained. “Because our products were so varied in rubber levels, you almost needed different screw designs or different operating conditions to get these different products to run. A lot of the time a certain screw design just didn’t work for everything, whereas running all those products on a Banbury didn’t really matter all that much.”

These challenges, however, provided production staff with opportunities to be inventive, to develop solutions and to adjust or re-fit equipment to meet Normar’s operating requirements. These efforts not only paid off and made life easier at Normar and improved customer service, but they also eventually convinced Parkersburg to set formulas and operating procedures that were much more “extruderfriendly,” although there was a significant time lag between identifying the problem and nudging Parkersburg to do something about it.

Customer service had always been a high priority at Normar. Its sales and marketing staff knew their customers well, helped them develop new product lines and were extremely attentive to special customer needs and complaints. This was another trait that transferred well when General Electric absorbed Borg-Warner Chemicals Cobourg. Many of the formalized quality initiatives instituted by GE to a lesser or greater degree already were in effect at BWC. Most, however, were just good old common sense.

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Six Sigma Ken and his guest stop off at the administration building to grab a cup of coffee and talk about the “New World” at the plant. Sitting in one of the conference rooms, the guest couldn’t help but notice that the walls were covered with dozens of sheets of flip-chart paper. There’d just been a “Six Sigma” session. Six Sigma, a cornerstone of General Electric’s culture, is a total quality approach that sharply focuses employees’ attention on customer service.

The program is a highly disciplined, statistically based quality effort, which uses a rigorous methodology to improve process control. The term Six Sigma is used to describe GE’s system to measure how far a given process deviates from perfection.

The central idea is that if one can measure the number of defects, one can systematically figure out how to eliminate them and get as close as possible to “zero defects”. According to the corporation’s background documents, “Six Sigma has changed the DNA of GE – it is now the way we work – in everything we do and in every product we design.”

Huh? One could be forgiven if some of the business buzzwords appear a bit baffling. But, with today’s globalization and instant access to information, products and services continue to change the way GE’s customers do business.

Six Sigma is designed to ensure GE is constantly in step with changing conditions and customer expectations. In essence, its philosophical foundation is simple – strive for perfection. Six Sigma merely formalizes the approach and provides an accurate measurement system to keep people on track and maintain customer focus.

Even so, much like earlier total quality initiatives employed at the plant, it was often difficult for employees to “sign on”. They may have been wary of highly sophisticated management systems, often believing the underlying theme was job reduction.

Ken Ellis, 2006.

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But Ken quickly realized nothing was to be gained by resisting change. He was actively involved in two precursors to Six Sigma – ISO 9000 and Ford Q-1.

“As I think back, some of the most exciting times were achieving ISO 9000 and Ford Q-1 quality registrations,” he said. “In attaining these initiatives, it was necessary to pull together a team of talented individuals, with varied backgrounds, expertise and strengths. It was a tremendous team effort.

“The entire team set its sights on attaining a goal and never let up. Even when time seemed too short to get everything completed, everyone was focused on the objective. When Audit Day arrived and the auditors were on site, we were fully prepared. It was an effort that the entire team could be extremely proud of and reinforced the belief that, as a team, we could accomplish anything we set out to do.”

Not bad for a guy who used to deliver milk and pick apples for a living.

The truth of the matter, however, is that Ken is living proof that adjusting to change is worth the effort. He and scores of other employees rode the crest of change at Normar. Sometimes that change would be painful. Ken, in fact, was one of the many employees who received pink slips during the downsizing of 1992-1994. But he bounced back, more determined than ever. A lot of that had to do with his formative years at Marbon/Borg-Warner Chemicals.

The company had a long-standing tradition of encouraging teamwork, innovation and ingenuity.

These qualities thrived at Normar and, as new employees came into the workplace, they too learned how to apply their skills toward taking on new challenges and solving problems.

Marbon mindset According to Borg-Warner Chemicals alumnus Ron Price, Normar’s attitudes were not unlike the original Marbon mindset.

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Total quality

Ken Ellis checking controls in sand filtration building, 2006.

“The core philosophy from the beginning was centred intensely on integrity,” he said. “That went into products, operation, administration and customer relationships. The people who brought Marbon through the embryonic stage valued hard work and honesty. They set a culture in place that built on innovative, leading-edge and diverse business – a place where people could succeed.”

Ken’s not exactly sure what the future has in store for him, but he knows it will involve hunting, fishing and watching his grandsons play hockey. For the time being, he’s officially a “consultant” with GE Plastics. He and his wife, Kathy, live near Warkworth, about 45 kilometres north of Cobourg.

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Picnics Picnics

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Patient’s Virtue Bill Patient

In 1969, Bill Patient had been on the job as Normar’s new plant manager for just a few weeks when production manager Leo Kowal dropped into his office and asked him if he’d like to go to a hockey game. Thinking Leo meant a Toronto Maple Leafs game, Bill quickly agreed. He’d never been to a hockey game.

“I was still living in a motel at the time, and Leo said he’d pick me up at six o’clock that evening,” Bill said. “I thought that was a bit of a late start to get to Toronto but at that point I really didn’t know how far it was to Toronto.

“So, Leo picks me up and off we go, east toward Belleville. As it turns out, it’s a match between our plant’s team and a team from one of the little towns down there – and I promptly find out everybody there hates our team because they thought we were dirty players.”

Bill says he winced as he watched the Normar guys getting heavily checked and slammed into the boards. But they were giving as well as they were getting, all the while being booed by the home team. “They were getting pretty banged up

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out there,” he said. “The next morning, I said, ‘Leo are we crazy? We work our fannies off during the day to keep these guys safe on the job and then at night we send them out onto the ice to get all banged up.”

Rocking the house If hockey was somewhat unfamiliar to Bill, curling was completely foreign. “I’d never heard of curling before. I gave it a try, though. I took one of the rocks and threw it down the ice and damn near took out the end of the house. One of the guys says, ‘you threw the wrong weight, Bill,’ so I go over and start lifting up different rocks, thinking they all had different weights. I wasn’t the swiftest guy in the house that night.”

But it didn’t take long for Bill to get the hang of things at Normar. In late 1964 and early 1965, he’d helped Len Harvey in the site selection process, so he wasn’t entirely new to Cobourg or to the plant.

Originally from East St. Louis, Illinois, Bill had lots of experience in planning chemical plant operations, dating back to his time as a design engineer with Amoco Oil Corporation38 in Texas City, Texas. Soon after graduating in 1957 with a degree in chemical engineering from St. Louis’s Washington University, Bill joined Amoco and then, in 1959, was sent to Joliet, Illinois, to help set up the company’s new chemical operation.

“They thought it was going to take me a year or so to set up the plant but it only took three or four months. We soon filled up the warehouse but they didn’t have any place to sell the stuff, so I kind of got mad at them and started looking around for other opportunities,” Bill said.

Bill had seen a Marbon help-wanted ad in a magazine and decided to give it a shot. He was almost instantly invited down for an interview.

He started as a plant manager in 1962. Somehow, however, he’d avoided having to submit to BorgWarner’s notorious, and mandatory, psychological testing process. “I was there (at Parkersburg) for about six months when somebody realized I hadn’t gone to Pittsburgh to have my head checked,” he laughed. The personnel department soon rectified its oversight and Bill was sent off to an encounter with Dr. Dick Porter, by then an already wellestablished industrial psychologist. He and Porter later would become close friends, but the good doctor was under strict orders never to reveal the test results – those were kept confidential and were available only to the psychological testing firm and to Borg-Warner’s corporate mandarins.

“I was very anxious to find out how my evaluation went so, soon after I got back, I went to Len Harvey’s office and asked what the hell had happened. He opens his desk drawer, looks inside and then looks up at me and says ‘you passed.’

That’s all I ever found out.”

The late Dr. Porter, Bill said, was “a wonderful man … He helped me tremendously in my career over the longer period. When I thought I was in trouble, didn’t know where I was going, or I was mad at somebody, I’d just get on an airplane and go and talk to Dick. He’d sit me down and tell me what the real world was like.”

Bill called on Porter many times during his time at Borg-Warner – and not merely for personal counselling. Porter often attended BWC organizational evaluation sessions and, when Bill later was promoted to president of Borg-Warner’s European operations, he flew Porter in and had him

“sit down with the organization and talk to them about what was going on … he was just a great man.”

Bob Shattuck, president of Borg-Warner when Bill was hired, set the standards for the company’s hiring practices. No one was hired without his official sayso, and no one was hired without a police check – well, almost no one.

“When I was first hired at Marbon, we were growing so fast that we almost had a boiler-room approach to hiring. We were doing group interviews down at a hotel in Parkersburg and there was this one guy that I liked and wanted to hire,” Bill recalled. “But because he’d moved around a lot, we couldn’t get a police record on him.” Bill went to the personnel department and explained his situation to the manager. “He said, ‘Are you kidding me? I’m not going into see Shattuck and tell him we’re going to hire this guy without a police report.

If you want to hire him, you’re going to have to come in with me.’”

The next morning, Bill and the personnel manager presented the potential new hire’s particulars to Shattuck. In less than a minute Shattuck noticed

there was no police report. “That’s my fault,” Bill told Shattuck. “We couldn’t get one, the guy just has been moving around too much, but I really want to hire him.” Shattuck thought about the situation for a moment or two and then said, “I’ll tell you what, Bill, you go out to the guy’s house and if his lawn is cut and his truck is washed, you can hire him.”

The personnel manager chuckled but Shattuck wasn’t kidding. “Shattuck came right out of his chair and almost over his desk and berated the guy. ‘That’s what’s wrong with you dumb guys in personnel,’ Shattuck said, ‘you don’t really understand what the standards are for the people we’re hiring around here.’” Bill left the next morning and drove out to the prospective employee’s home. His lawn was cut; his truck was washed. He was hired.

After running BWC’s latex plant for about a year, Bill was moved into operations planning, working directly with Len Harvey. In 1967, Bill was assigned to work at Borg-Warner Machines, which he described as “probably one of the biggest mistakes I ever made in my life. Here I was, a chemical engineer, and they were sending me up to a machine shop.”

After almost three years, Bill was about to call it quits when Len Harvey offered him the job as plant manager at Normar. “God bless him. He saved me,” Bill said. “When he asked me if I wanted to go up to Normar, I almost kissed his hand in gratitude.”

While he spent just two

BWC hockey team, mid-1980s.

years as Normar’s plant manager, Bill says he easily could have stayed there for 10 or more years. “You knew everybody there – you knew their kids, their dogs – it was very much a family affair. The people genuinely liked each other and they cared for each other. It was a great atmosphere. The people knew they had a job to do and they did it.”

Buy Canadian While a Canadian tariff on imports of U.S. ABS resin may have sparked Marbon into opening a plant in Canada, Bill explained the real reason was the growing demand in Canada for products made with ABS feedstock. “There was a service aspect,” he said.

“Customers preferred dealing with someone who was close by. There was also the ‘Buy-Canadian’ aspect. So it really just made good business sense to have a Canadian operation. The (plastic) pipe market in Canada was very important to us.”

Within its first couple of years, Normar was showing all the right signs of success. Les Boysen had gotten things off to a good start. The plant and marketing efforts now needed some fine-tuning to turn the business into a major player in the Canadian marketplace. That was Bill’s job. Soon after his appointment, he received a letter from Len Harvey. “It counselled me on the fact that we were an American company in another country and that there were certain standards of behaviour.

Of course, he was a Canadian and was sensitive to those things, but the point was, it was great counsel and we tried to live that way and by those standards.

We learned a lot.”

One of the secrets, he said, was ensuring Normar was involved with the community, and striving to meet or exceed safety, regulatory and environmental standards. “I know it’s a cliché but we really wanted to be good corporate citizens. I think we proved that by the way we worked with the regulatory authorities and the way we behaved relative to our environmental responsibilities. Then, of course, our safety record was exceptional.

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From strength to strength Bill left the plant in Leo Kowal’s capable hands and returned to Parkersburg and operations planning.

He later went into marketing and ran Borg-Warner’s extrusion business before finally being appointed to head the company’s European operations, first in Brussels for three years and then in Amsterdam for another three years. He returned to Parkersburg in 1985 as Borg-Warner’s commercial manager, but still kept a paternal eye on “special” Normar. Bill frequently was called upon whenever discussions concerning Borg-Warner’s Canadian operations were held.

Bill left the company in 1988, six months after the GE takeover. “That was a very difficult and emotional time for most of us. Marbon/Borg-Warner was only the second company I’d ever worked for. When I started, Marbon’s sales were something like $30 million (US). By the time I moved to Europe our sales were significantly north of $1 billion. It truly was a family kind of company. We’d all grown up together and then to have it purchased like it was by General Electric was very difficult for a lot of us.”

While the transition may have been tumultuous, Bill was quick to add, “There’s no sense talking about the right or the wrong of it. It was just what it was.” In fact, he was on the team involved with the sale of BorgWarner’s chemicals division. “That wasn’t fun,” he said.

“But we did what we could to help all of the people we could possibly help.”

After retiring from GE, Bill went on to B.F. Goodrich’s vinyl plastics division, which became Geon in 1993, where he served as CEO and president for seven years before retiring a second time. A year later, however, when Geon and the M.A. Hanna Company, a plastics and rubber company, merged on August 31, 2000 to form PolyOne Corporation, Bill was persuaded to come out of retirement once again. He’s currently PolyOne’s chairman. Bill now lives in Phoenix, Arizona but still has a number of close friends in Cobourg.

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Marbon Mentor Bruce Broberg

Bruce and Sue Broberg, late 1970s.

Not too many people at Normar today will remember Bruce Broberg but, for the more than 30 years he served in sales at Marbon/BWC/GE, he led a small sales force that today would be the envy of any industry’s entire sales division. Veteran employees and retirees credit Bruce with putting Normar on the map with customers and with frequently going to bat for the plant at head office. He proved not only to be a mentor to sales staff but also to virtually all other disciplines within the young Normar operation.

Bruce was born in Chicago in 1941. He received his Bachelor of Science degree in chemical engineering at Purdue University in Lafayette, Indiana. He later earned his Master of Business Administration degree at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana. Soon after receiving his

MBA he was hired on February 1, 1965 by Marbon’s owner, the Borg-Warner Corporation.

Aside from the fact that he had a background in both engineering and business administration, another key advantage was that he served an internship at each of the big corporation’s four divisions before being assigned to Marbon as a customer service representative. This provided him with a thorough understanding of how BW worked, what was expected from its various subsidiaries and, perhaps most important, he had direct access to “Mother Corp’s” key senior executives.

After a year working under Dick McAllister, Marbon’s regional sales manager in Detroit, Bruce was transferred to Parkersburg as an application engineer and assistant to marketing wizard Jack Shafer. With Jack, Bruce set up Marbon’s marketing department.

With valuable experience gained in extrusion and marketing and sales, three years later Bruce went on to become North American product manager for all of Marbon’s extrusion products, reporting to Bill Patient who, at the time, was in charge of Marbon’s operations group. Important lessons were learned during Bruce’s time with Bill, particularly when it came to understanding some of BWC’s business basics.

“I can remember we were having some complaints from a valued customer concerning a recurring problem with product quality deficiencies,” he said.

“I and another salesperson sat down with Bill in a hotel room and began a long harangue about how Operations just didn’t care.

“Bill let us go on until we ran out of gas and then he said, ‘Gentlemen, please sit down. I want to tell you about one of my foremen in the (Parkersburg) resin building. This guy hasn’t missed a day in God-knows-how-many years. He comes to work 45 minutes early every day. He checks in with the operators in his building from the previous shift to find out what problems they’ve been having, so that he can prepare his men at shift change.

‘He then meets with his men when they come on shift to make sure they’re up to speed with what went on during the earlier shift. Then he takes a walk around the plant and, if he sees a dusty stairwell, he’ll grab a broom and clean it himself.’

“That was the last time I ever mentioned anything about Operations not caring,” Bruce said.

When Bill was appointed Normar’s plant manager in March 1969, Bruce was transferred to BorgWarner Chemicals-Canada’s office in Toronto to set up and manage the Canadian sales department.

Bruce split his time between helping the new plant get organized and drumming up business. His background in engineering was an added bonus for the plant’s new and mostly inexperienced workforce. Here was a sales guy who understood how to speak “Engineerish”.

And, for those who’d never heard of Borg-Warner or had no inkling as to its sometimes-mysterious management methods, Bruce provided more than a few clues about how to survive and prosper within the BW culture.

“Understanding the needs of Normar operations enabled me to be a more effective marketing manager for Borg-Warner Chemicals,” he said. “And it provided me with the foundation to become

Sue and Bruce Broberg, 2005.

Normar’s investment advocate when I was working in strategic planning from 1980 through 1985.”

Bruce resumed his duties as Canadian marketing manager in 1985, where he remained until 1992.

“When GE took over in ’88, they kept me on board.

Three years later I was asked to redesign the sales and marketing organization in Canada – without me in it! That became my clue that my days were numbered. I was terminated on November 4, 1991.”

Bruce and his wife, Sue, are deeply spiritual people.

He saw his last day at GE Plastics as a good one – one that was meant to happen. “I knew that God had something better for me. Five weeks later – on December 12, 1991 – Sue and I were assigned by the Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) to go to Kenya.” Bruce and Sue began their BSF missionary work in Nairobi with a class of about 34 students. Today there are more than 775 students in two classes. Bruce also teaches a commerce program at Nairobi’s Daystar University. “As I look back, November 4, 1991 has proven to be the best day in my life,” Bruce said.

Bruce Broberg (seated, centre) with his commerce class in Kenya, 2005.

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Smooth and Savvy

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Ron Sargent

It’s early June 2005 and Ron Sargent is just a few weeks away from packing it in at Money Concepts, the financial planning firm where he’s worked for the past 13 years. This will be his second retirement but, at age 71, Ron has no plans of settling into the proverbial rocking chair.

Growth is what Ron’s career has been all about – his own, and that of the many people he’s worked with and for, both at Money Concepts and during his 23-year career at Borg-Warner/GE Plastics.

Born in Peterborough, Ron earned his registered industrial accounting degree (RIA, now CMA) in 1965 while with DeLaval, a major manufacturer of dairy equipment, and now part of the giant, Swissbased Tetra Laval Group.

Like a lot of early Normar employees, Ron’s introduction to the plastics industry was through

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an ad placed

by Marbon Chemicals in his local newspaper, the Peterborough Examiner.

It was November 1966 and Normar was hunting for a chief accountant. Ron applied and drove down to Cobourg for an interview with plant manager Les Boysen.

They disagreed over salary and Ron returned to DeLaval. Three months later he got another call from Normar. They’d upped their ante and Ron was hired March 1, 1967.

Ron’s first six weeks were spent being “BorgWarnered” in Parkersburg. There were additional interviews, training sessions and the inevitable “head test” in Pittsburgh. A highlight of his indoctrination was getting to know Dick Smith,

BWC’s vice-president of finance, who more or less outlined the tone of the organization for Ron, and provided him with a clear understanding of BWC’s culture and its financial operating practices.

When Ron returned to Cobourg, he worked for a year out of Normar’s temporary administration office above Woolworth’s department store, at the corner of King and Division streets. (It’s now Liquidation World. BWC’s actual office is now home to the Odd Balls pool parlour).

“I was sitting in the office one day in 1968 and in comes Boysen. He was a gruff guy but he had a big heart. He says I’m to get a 10-per-cent raise and I thought, wow, that’s kind of neat. Then he says, ‘Oh, by the way, you’re now the personnel manager, starting today – and I want six new people by a week Monday.’”

Ron took over the personnel and finance duties from Les Fraser. He continued serving as personnel manager for about six years but, during that time, he also was responsible for a variety of other administrative functions including production and inventory control, warehousing, purchasing and PR. Today he’d be described as a “multi-tasker”.

To lessen his load, it was decided Normar needed a full-time personnel manager.

“We did some interviews and then went out and hired a guy,” Ron said. “He lasted about six weeks.

That was one of the few situations where we didn’t choose very well. So, we reviewed the situation again and decided Ed Jackson was the man for the job. He was personnel manager until his retirement in 1989 when he was replaced by Barb Acorn.”

Open doors Having his fingers in a lot of pies positioned Ron not only for future advancement within Borg-Warner/ GE, it also provided him with a solid foundation for his post-GE career. During the early years, it was commonplace at Normar for managers to be involved in a range of functions. BWC believed its management needed to be in close, daily contact

Waste strands of plastic.

Plastic “gob”.

with all aspects of a plant’s operation and to understand all employees’ roles and responsibilities.

Managers’ doors were always open at Normar. But it went beyond that.

“All of the managers (at Normar) toured the plant at least two or three times a day. I can still remember our personnel assistant, Ray Blakely – we called him the ‘Happy Whistler.’ He used to make a point of delivering the mail, which gave him an excuse to walk through the plant.

You could always tell it was Ray because he’d be whistling a tune whenever he strolled through.”

It was more or less an unwritten rule that Normar managers were expected to connect with employees – on a professional as well as a personal level. “I was a money guy and they turned me into a business guy and a people guy,” Ron said.

An important aspect of Normar’s operation was that it operated as a business within a business. It

controller, oversaw day-to-day operations at BWC Canada. The commercial manager – for many years, Bruce Broberg – was an integral part of the management design. His role was to work closely with customers in the development and application of products, beyond the role of the sales force. BWC’s team approach to management was well ahead of its time. It paid off well.

Normar was something of Colborne warehouse fire, mid-1970s. a jewel in BWC’s crown. It wasn’t merely a branch office where most of the major frequently recorded profit margins that, today, would decisions were made hundreds of kilometres away at be a CFO’s dream. One year, during the 1980s, headquarters. “Normar was a complete profit centre.

Normar’s profit was at or near 100 per cent, and We had our own sales force, purchasing department, a almost always was in the high double digits. customer service group and a full financial operation.

While Normar operated with relative autonomy, We created our own one-year and five-year plans. We it still had to compete with BWC’s other plants went right to the bottom line,” Ron explained. for capital and personnel requirements. Those Much of that had to do with the fact Normar was decisions remained firmly with head office. Other operating in Canada but, to a larger degree, BWC’s than that, Normar was pretty much left to its plants were expected to operate as responsible own devices. Communication at all levels, with business entities, not just as subservient feeders to employees and the community, was a top priority.

“Mother Corp.”. Even so, Parkersburg kept close tabs Ron, along with Ray Blakely, was instrumental on Normar, reviewing its progress on a quarter-toin starting Normarac, the in-house employee quarter and annual basis. newsletter. And Ron doubled as Normar’s public A business management team, consisting of the plant and media relations officer. However, as Ron put it, manager, sales manager, commercial manager and “our job was not to be in the media.”

Styrene tank car derailment, early 1970s.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 93

Not so good news Occasionally Normar would make the news – and not always in a positive sense. One incident that hit the news was a major fire at a warehouse in Colborne, where Normar had stored nearly 250,000 pounds of “off-grade re-grind” from ABS strands and “gobs” – basically material from bad batches or leftovers.

“I got a call about a quarter to seven in the morning to say the warehouse was on fire,” Ron said. “It was pretty bad with lots of smoke and, because of the plastic, we sent Roger Pearce down with a ‘sniffer’ (device) to check for toxic fumes. A few houses in the area had to be evacuated. It was three days before the fire was put out.”

Fire crews had to call in assistance from Canadian Forces Base Trenton because, at the time, none

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of the local fire departments had sufficient foam extinguishing equipment. It eventually was determined the blaze was caused by faulty electrical equipment.

A second major incident involved a multi-vehicle pile-up during heavy fog on Highway 401 at the Trenton Bridge. A transport truck carrying ABS finished product from one of Normar’s customers in Granby, Quebec, was rear-ended and burst into flames. A number of other tractor-trailers were involved in the crash. One of the drivers was killed.

Again, there was concern about the toxicity of the burning plastic material.

Only one major, potentially dangerous incident actually occurred at the plant. A tank car carrying liquid styrene derailed as it collided with a buttress at the south end of the spur, right up against the plant’s warehouse. Leo Kowal was out of town

Emergency Response Team during training exercise.

at the time and Ron was filling in as acting plant manager. “There was a strong odour of styrene,” Ron said. “We shut down the power, opened all the doors and evacuated the plant. We also blocked off Normar Road.”

After an inspection by local firefighters, the CPR and Ontario Ministry of Environment officials, it was determined the tank car had not been ruptured.

Foam had been applied as a precaution. Employees were allowed to return to work the same day and the car was re-railed without further incident.

Normar had its own fire brigade and emergency response teams, all of whom underwent rigorous training in prevention and response techniques.

Many of the members of Normar’s fire brigade also belonged to the Canadian Chemical Producers’ Association and served with local volunteer fire departments, further cementing BWC’s relationship with the community.

Customer relationships went well beyond sales pitches. Normar’s sales force involved itself with customers’ research and development programs, providing technical expertise and advice. As well, customers frequently visited the plant to gain a better understanding of the processes involved in producing plastics feedstock.

As Normar’s controller and administration manager, Ron was a key player in the plant’s development, working closely with a string of plant managers who all counted on Ron’s financial acumen and people skills. His talents were recognized throughout the Borg-Warner organization, drawing praise from, among others, president Len Harvey.

“Ron was a pretty good financial guy,” Len said.

“With Ron, we never had to needle Normar about its inventory or receivables. It was a very profitable operation.” Former plant manager Leo Kowal credited Ron with being instrumental in guiding Normar to being one of BWC’s most productive and well-managed plants.

Even with his many on-the-job responsibilities, Ron still found time to be active in the community.

The ‘Golden Jet’ touches down As a charter member of NEAC, Ron also was called upon to organize a number of special events. One of the more notable occasions was the official dedication of Normar’s expanded plant facilities and new offices. It featured a special appearance

by Chicago Blackhawks hockey great, Bobby Hull, who’d grown up on a farm near Belleville. Ron arranged to get the “Golden Jet” to be the guest of honour at the family-day open house, held September 11, 1970.

Hull spent the day touring the plant with other VIPs, meeting employees and their families, posing

Bobby Hull.

for snapshots and signing scores of autographs. He even took a spin in the experimental all-ABS Marbon sports car, which had been shipped up from Detroit as part of a display of various products produced with Marbon plastics.

Another highlight of Ron’s career was the day Normar hit the two-million-hour mark without a lost-time injury. Ron had arranged to hire a photographer to shoot a panoramic picture of all available employees – about 120 of the total complement of 130 were on hand.

The photographer required about 16 seconds to pan the semi-circle of employees, and produced two metre-long colour photos. This, of course, was done long before the age of digital imaging and required that the employees remained as motionless as possible as the photographer moved from left to right, creating a continuous image.

Ever the practical joker, Ron’s colleague in accounting, Doug Beauchamp, saw his chance.

After his section of the photo had been taken, he scooted around behind the camera, positioned himself on the far right of the group and was photographed a second time. The photograph, which until recently hung in Ron’s Money Concepts office, featured two Doug Beauchamps, both sporting wide, mischievous grins.

Doug’s clever prank aside, it was a proud moment for the plant, and every employee received special recognition for the outstanding achievement in occupational safety.

Long before the word “empowerment” became a corporate buzzword, employees at Normar recognized the value of individual commitment in a team environment built on trust and respect. Reward and recognition were two other key cornerstones of Normar’s operation.

“The best decision management ever made was to make everyone a salaried employee,” Ron said, “to have exactly the same benefits and thereby treating everyone as equals.”

Ron was involved in developing the new system, which involved some fairly radical changes to existing

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He was chairman of Cobourg’s United Way Campaign for two years and served as president of the Chamber of Commerce and the YMCA. Community service was something he said “came out of the Borg-Warner environment.”

Ron Sargent (left) with Ernie Everingham and BWC 50th-anniversary telephone.

personnel policies and the employee pension fund.

He still considers the program as one of his most important contributions to the plant and its people.

At the time of the GE takeover, Ron was primarily involved in customer service as well as serving as credit manager.

“I always had a great connection with the sales department and the customers,” he said. “I’d visit lots of customers and get to go to all of the sales events.

I became a proponent for the customer and that probably was my last task in customer service.”

As BWC’s customer service department began the process of being fused with the GE organization, Ron realized his career at Normar would soon come to an end. The credit department was moved to GE’s Meadowvale sales office and plans were well under way to move the entire customer service operation to New York. When Ron finally was told it was time to move on, he said that even though he’d expected the news, “there was still a little shock.”

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 95

Open Hous Open House ’70

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2 3 4

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5

se

1 - All-ABS sports car.

2 - Ann Closs and Bobby Hull in ABS ARGO ATV. 3 - Leo Kowal and Bobby Hull.

4 - Bobby Hull signing autographs for Ernie Everingham.

5 - Cobourg Mayor Jack Heenan with Lena Fisher, town councillor.

6 - John DeJong and family with Bobby Hull.

7 - Ribbon-cutting ceremony (Rick Whaley at left; Leo Kowal, at right).

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Number-cruncher

For all intents and purposes, his career path at CGE seemed assured – until he got a phone call in 1972 from Gary Cooney, at the time Marbon’s accounting manager, and also a former CGE employee. Doug had met Gary while both were undergoing CGE’s RIA apprenticeship program. Gary reported to Ron Sargent, Normar’s controller.

Doug Beauchamp

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Get that hair cut!

Doug Beauchamp sits at his dining room table surrounded by a mini-museum of Marbon/BorgWarner paraphernalia – promotional items, photographs and stacks of photo albums. He even has his old Normar hockey sweater and jacket and still wears them during hockey season. They’re a bit faded but his Normar memories certainly are not.

Doug was one of several former Normar employees who actually started their careers working with Canadian General Electric in Peterborough. CGE was something of a Beauchamp family tradition. Doug’s father, George, worked there for 37 years, and his brother, Tom, was with the company for more than 30 years. Doug’s grandfather, Walter Nattress also was a long-serving CGE employee, as was Doug’s uncle, Bob Nattress.

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CGE was the city’s biggest employer, and had been since it was first established there in 1892. When Doug joined CGE, it had more than 5,500 employees in Peterborough. “If I’d stayed with them, I would’ve been there for over 40 years. It was a terrific place to work. They were a great group of folks, a lot of hardworking people,” he said.

Born in Peterborough on New Year’s Day, 1947, Doug attended Grove Public School and then Kenner Collegiate Vocational Institute. In 1965, at 18, he began a finance apprenticeship program at CGE, receiving his RIA (Registered Industrial Accounting) degree in 1972.

While number crunching may have been his forte, Doug spent as much time as possible on the shop floor at CGE, chatting with employees and absorbing as much as he could about the business.

Gary was leaving Marbon and suggested Doug might be interested in applying to replace him.

An appointment was scheduled with the plant manager, Leo Kowal, and, thinking he’d like to make a good impression, Doug decided to cut his shoulder-length hair before driving down to Cobourg for the interview.

“When I went to see my barber in Peterborough, I found out that he was away on his honeymoon, so I didn’t have time to get my hair cut in time for the interview. It was neat and clean and everything, but it really was quite long. Leo and I developed a really good rapport pretty quickly, but as the interview was ending he told me to ‘get that hair cut!’”

Hairstyle aside, Leo liked the cut of Doug’s jib and arranged to send him off for the requisite two days of psychological testing in Pittsburgh. Along with the standard mathematics and logic tests, which Doug expected, there were also questions designed to determine other, more personal and political points of view.

“They were looking to determine whether you were tolerant or intolerant, and whether you were religious and patriotic,” Doug said. “Canadians aren’t quite as demonstrably patriotic as most Americans. But Borg really was looking at what your management style would be, rather than concentrating on technical things.”

An eight-word notation on his evaluation form, “this candidate is suitable for a management position,” ushered Doug into his new career. He was hired August 14, 1972, five days before his wife, Erica,

BWC softball team.

gave birth to their first child, Fleur. For the next few weeks, Doug, Erica and the baby shuttled back and forth between Peterborough and Cobourg on househunting expeditions. It was during this time the Beauchamps first sampled the warmth and hospitality of Normar’s employees. Doug’s new boss, Ron Sargent helped with finding a real estate agent.

In late September, the Beauchamps bought their new home in Cobourg and Doug began poring over Borg-Warner’s manuals and policy documents, reading and re-reading them late into the evening. He wanted to ensure he understood as much as he could about the company.

Square-dancin’ party animals Later that autumn, Doug got another taste of BorgWarner’s culture – partying. Ron Sargent invited him to attend a huge plastics trade show in Toronto, to

be followed by a trip to Parkersburg to meet Dick Smith, the VP of finance, and the other Borg-Warner accounting people at head office.

“We were staying at the Royal York in Toronto and went to one of the hospitality suites and partied all night. Ron was playing the piano and I called square dancing. We must’ve had 30 people we didn’t even know up and square dancing. We were both party animals.” The fact that this wasn’t Borg-Warner’s hospitality suite and actually was for an entirely different event didn’t seem to matter much to Ron and Doug.

The pair barely made it back to their hotel rooms for a 20-minute nap before taking a cab to the airport to catch their flight to Parkersburg. “We weren’t in the best of shape when we got on that plane,” Doug laughed.

Parkersburg was something of an eye-opener for Doug. He always considered himself

environmentally conscious and was shocked by the amount of pollution he saw along the Ohio River. “The plant was right in ‘Chemical Valley’. You couldn’t see the sky; it was so polluted down there.”

Doug said there was a noticeable difference in attitude between the American and Canadian operations when it came to responsible environmental behaviour, but over time great strides were made in addressing the pollution problems through prevention and massive clean-up efforts. “In the U.S., it took them several years to recognize the problems they were creating and really put on a big push to clean things up. At Normar we were more environmentally conscious and improved a little bit more every year.”

Normar was started at the beginning of the modern environmental movement and most of the plant’s employees were young and well tuned to ecological concerns, so the more established plants in the U.S. might be forgiven somewhat for having to play catch-up when it came to thinking “green”.

At home, Doug and Erica already were a “green” family long before the term became fashionable.

They were accustomed to separating their garbage and recycling glass, paper and plastic in Peterborough, and were disappointed to learn that Cobourg didn’t offer a recycling program.

“When we moved to Cobourg, we actually kept all of our recycling stuff and took it back to Peterborough every week, because Cobourg didn’t start a recycling program until the mid-’70s. Port Hope (12 kilometres west of Cobourg) finally got one and we used to drive there every week or two with our stuff until Cobourg started recycling.”

Doug became one of Normar’s major environmental proponents, along with being a strong advocate of its safety awareness programs.

While among the converted, Doug’s dedication to safety was strengthened even more during his time at Normar, and this attitude travelled with him once he finally moved on.

“There was no question safety was the biggest thing; we lived it at Normar,” he said. “In every

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 99

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The Beauchamp family: From left: Nicholas, Erica, Doug and Fleur.

place that I’ve gone since then, I’ve had an impact on changing attitudes and bringing safety up to the number one position.”

Now controller at Cascades Boxboard Inc. in Cobourg, Doug stubbornly keeps management’s focus on safety issues. “When we put our budgets together (at Cascades), I always put safety as Number One. When you start pushing safety, people readily pick up on the fact that you’re really fighting for them and you do get a better response.”

Cold beer and warm friendships Doug also was big on forging relationships with coworkers. He’d been so impressed by how well he and Erica had been treated when they first arrived at Normar that he made a special effort to do the same whenever new employees were hired. He was a firm believer in getting to know employees and their families, and was among the plant’s most active social event organizers. He and Erica

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participated in most of Normar’s employee activity club activities.

Friday nights would find many of Normar’s people over at Monty’s Bar in the now-defunct Chateau Hotel, which used to be beside Hoo Lee Garden Restaurant adjacent to Victoria Park. Monty’s was, to put it mildly, a little on the shabby side – the complete opposite of the Chateau’s immaculate dining lounge. But the beer was cold and flowed as freely as the friendly conversation.

“If we had visitors, we’d take them to the Chateau Hotel and we’d go into the dining room with the nice silverware and white linen tablecloths. It was excellent. But, if you went to the back end of the hotel where Monty’s was, well, it was pretty dark and dismal. We used to joke that we weren’t really sure whether they cleaned the glasses,” Doug said.

Doug had always been active in sports, especially hockey and softball. In the summer of 1973, he organized a Normar slow-pitch softball league. By the second week it had 30 to 35 players, including spouses and children. “We played Monday nights at Donegan Park. Everybody played, and everybody batted every inning. Sons and daughters would play.

We split into two teams; there could be 17 on each team. If there were 17 on each team, there’d be 17 batters and 17 in the outfield. Each team supplied their own pitcher and we’d have an umpire who’d stand behind the pitcher.”

One memorable Monday night, Donny LaSalle, who’d broken his collarbone and had one arm in a sling, was serving as umpire. While there were few rules, one important one was that the pitcher was not allowed to field the ball. If a hit came his way, he was expected to let it go by.

“Well,” said Doug, laughing, “here’s poor Donny LaSalle with his arm in a sling. The pitcher tosses the ball and the batter drills one right back at him. Of course, the pitcher steps aside and pow, Donny gets smacked.” Fortunately, Donny wasn’t seriously injured.

“After each game was over, we’d walk across the field to Ernie Everingham’s. He lived right across from the ball diamond. We’d sit in Ernie’s yard and

open up a case of ‘wobbly pops’. We’d sit back, have a few brewskis and then everybody would go home.

It was just the best time,” Doug said.

Doug even tried to persuade the company to install a gym as part of BWC’s expansion plans for Normar. Drawings were prepared and the proposed gym was to be built on the east side of the new administration building. When that didn’t work out, Doug made arrangements to use fitness facilities at a local church where, for two winters, a dozen or so employees regularly got together to exercise and play volleyball.

An art or a science?

There also were more serious gatherings where supervisors and managers would get together each week to discuss a wide range of business issues.

“This was one of the greatest things,” Doug said.

“We’d meet every Wednesday from 9:30 till 10 a.m., have coffee and shoot the breeze. Invariably the discussion would be about plastics and Borg issues.

We’d philosophize about things. I can still remember one discussion that went on for more than a month.

It was all about whether making plastic was an art or a science. These guys would fight tooth and nail on opposite sides but, as soon as it was over, it was back to work. I don’t think there was ever a clear winner.”

Doug said these meetings proved to be extremely valuable. “If you get the right people in a room and you have a question to tackle, nine times out of ten, you’re going to come up with a pretty good solution to whatever the challenge or obstacle was.”

It was also important for Normar’s managers and supervisors to involve themselves in the community – and not merely for altruistic reasons. Keeping a finger on the pulse of goings-on within the town and region also made good business and political sense.

“Leo was involved with the Rotary Club, and at one time he was president of the Dalewood Golf and Curling Club. Ron Sargent was involved with the local accounting group and served as president of the Chamber of Commerce. He also led the United Way

Skip Beauchamp.

and was president of the Cobourg YMCA. Ed Jackson was very active in the Industrial Accident Prevention Association for years. Bill Usborne was very active in the Traffic Club. Ernie Everingham was a Rotary president. Not only were we very hard workers at the plant, but we also gave a lot to the community. We were always pretty well connected.”

Doug served as Borg-Warner’s representative with the Canadian Chemical Credit Association, a quiet but powerful organization that basically said yea or nay to customer credit. While not quite a cartel, there was a fairly wide range of representation from

some high-priced companies, including Monsanto, Esso, DuPont, CIL, Polysar, Bayer and BASF. “We (the group) basically had all the credit,” Doug explained.

We could extend credit or limit it. There certainly was a lot of power at the table. But we had to be very careful about what we talked about because we could have been accused of collusion or fair trade violations but, just the same, it was very powerful.”

During the oil embargo imposed by OPEC, energy prices skyrocketed. Virtually every sector of the North American economy was affected. Plastics feedstock was in short supply and customers were scrambling to fill orders, even though many were seriously overextended. These were particularly tough times for Normar, and many of its customers were either forced into receivership or had to pare their operations to the bone merely to stay alive. And, soon after the embargo was lifted, interest rates began to soar, hitting 20 per cent or more during the mid1980s.

Soon after interest rates began to settle down and just as things seemed to be getting back to normal, takeover rumours began to ripple through BWC. Then, when GE finally purchased BWC in 1988, the entire operation was thrown into a temporary state of flux. A key issue at Normar was what to do with the money. “When the purchase actually went through, they (GE) really didn’t know what do with Canada, so we operated very independently,” Doug said.

Under Borg-Warner, money received from Normar’s customers would be deposited into the company’s bank account and then “swept” every day

by Borg-Warner. “So, we didn’t really have any of our own cash. Any cheques we wrote would come out of the account and (BWC) would replenish it. In effect, we always had zero dollars in our bank account.”

However, once the GE transaction went through, the account sweeping abruptly stopped and money began piling up – millions of dollars, in fact. Doug wasn’t content to merely let that money sit there while GE’s financial wizards sorted out the receivables and payables situation during the transition period.

“I was investing money overnight and I could get a higher rate of return on our investment than GE’s investment analyst in New York City. I never met the guy, but I’d call him every day to let him know how much money was in the account and he’d say, ‘Holy crap! Go for this, go for that.’”

While Doug listened to the analyst’s advice, he knew he could do much better. He was buying bonds or stocks in two-tier companies and then in 15 or 18 days would flip them and make a tidy profit. “I would record it as ‘interest income,’” he said. “I was able to hold that money for months. It was in the tens of millions of dollars. But I’d always make sure the guy in New York knew what we were doing. All I know is that we made the company a pot full of money.”

Several times Doug was offered positions with BWC in the United States. He politely resisted being transferred until early in 1988 when he finally agreed to move to Parkersburg to assist in the development of a multi-million-dollar software project. It would prove to be a short assignment. “Beginning in March 1988, I’d fly down to Parkersburg every Monday morning, work there all week and then fly back on Friday night. I did that every week until the first of July.

I’d put in all my immigration papers. The day the immigration lawyer phoned and said everything had been approved was the day my boss came to me and said the company was being sold and that the project I was working on would be stopped, period.”

Part of Doug’s agreement with BWC was that he would be allowed at some point to return to work in Canada. But Doug didn’t expect that to happen quite as soon as it did. Before he left, there’d been a number of going-away parties, with lots of gifts. “The long and short of it was that we didn’t move, so we had to have a party and give back all the gifts. Our friends were really neat about it but it was pretty embarrassing.”

Doug returned to work at Normar and remained there until 1992 when his job was abolished.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 0 1

Just Another Milestone

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Barb Kelly

As years go, 1976 was one for the record books. It was the year Toronto Maple Leaf centre Darryl Sittler scored 10 points in a single hockey game against Don Cherry’s Boston Bruins. The Summer Olympics were held in Montreal. The CN Tower was opened.

Eaton’s catalogue was discontinued, and Tim Hortons introduced the Timbit.

It also was the year Normar’s hitherto male bastion on the production floor finally was breached with the hiring of 18-year-old Barb Kelly (née Barlow). While an important milestone in Normar’s history, it was one that passed with little or no fanfare. Other businesses might have heralded the event with news releases and grand statements about how progressive they were, but not BorgWarner Chemicals. This was just another person applying for and getting a job.

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Barb had just celebrated her first wedding anniversary and was about to enter her second year at Sir Sandford Fleming’s Cobourg campus when her family’s neighbour, Bill Finley, the plant’s quality control manager, suggested she might like to apply for a job at Normar.

There were several women already working at the facility but none in production. Most were in administrative, sales or secretarial positions.

According to Bill, hiring Barb was “just something that happened. Borg-Warner was ahead of its time in a lot of ways. It didn’t matter one way or the other whether you were male or female. We had an opening and all that mattered was whether you could do the job – and Barb could.”

Barb was used to hard work. Growing up in Wicklow, about halfway between Cobourg and Colborne, as a 12-year-old she’d picked tobacco at local farms and, all through her school years, she worked at her parents’ gas station and corner store (Ed’s Variety), pumping gas and changing tires.

“I’d known the Barlow family for years, they lived right next to us,” Bill said. “Barb had the ability to

work with everybody. I knew she’d fit in well.” But first Barb would have to go through the standard BWC screening process. She was interviewed four times – by Ed Jackson and Barb Acorn in personnel; by production supervisors Jack Adams and Ken Ellis;

by Ray Blakely; and by plant manager Leo Kowal.

Finally, she was hired as a compounding chemical operator at $5.72 an hour.

“I was a little nervous at first,” she said, “because it was all guys. They could’ve given me a hard time, I guess, but they didn’t. I just did my job. Some of the guys were amazed and some didn’t really care, but they all treated me very well.”

Barb eventually moved into weigh-up, finishing and compounding, where she spent seven years before being appointed as a lab technician. Except for a brief period in 1992 when the plant went through its major downsizing, she’s been there ever since.

The closing of the resin plant, coupled with a downturn in business, meant fewer people were needed in the colour lab. Barb was sent back to finishing. “I was only there for a short while, maybe a couple of months, then I was back in the lab when things got busy again,” she said, adding that while there had been some serious job cuts, mostly in the supervisory ranks, at the time she wasn’t overly concerned about the future of her career.

These days, 30 years in the same job certainly is a rarity, and Barb has witnessed a lot of changes at the plant. But many things have remained constant – dedicated people and quality work.

“When I first started, I didn’t have a clue (about colour work). I learned a lot from people like Dave Quinn, Bill Finley and Ron Walt. The work has changed over the years but we’ve always worked well together and still do.” If things work out, Barb

hopes to remain at the plant for at least another five years. After that, she says, “Who knows?”

Married for 30 years to husband Dan, Barb has four children – Rachel, 26, Joselyn, 23, Lindsey, 19, and Kirk, 16. She also has two grandchildren: Rachel’s five-year-old, Austin, and Lindsey’s newborn, Keisha.

Give ’em a kilometre and they’ll take a mile: Normar goes metric Normar began marketing in metric on January 1, 1978. A special committee co-ordinated by Carl West implemented the conversion to metric measurement.

Changes included converting weigh scales; requesting vendors to ship supplies in metric; order and billing forms, report forms, specifications sheets, price lists and inventory records; budget planning; changing Cycolac packaging from 50 pounds to 25 kilograms; changing boxes from 1,000 pounds to 500 kilograms.

These last two changes resulted in cost savings since employees handled 10 per cent fewer containers holding the same amount of ABS. The number of containers in the warehouse also was reduced, freeing up 10 per cent more storage space. Normar had been purchasing metric tools since 1976 in anticipation of the change. By the conversion date, the plant’s centrifuge and lathes already were metric.

Doug Mathera.

Glen Partridge.

Turning around the downturn Nineteen eighty-one was a banner year for Normar.

The plant had chalked up impressive records in production, sales, revenue and safety.

Then came 1982 and the worst economic times Canada had seen since the Great Depression. The Canadian dollar had dropped to its lowest level since the 1930s, and economists were not at all optimistic there would be any sign of a turnaround until the end of 1983 at the earliest. Yet, through it all, Normar still managed to end up in the black by the end of 1982. It was a year where everyone pulled together like never before.

Sales personnel worked doubly hard to snare new accounts to keep volumes up, and Normar operated profitably at 50 per cent or less capacity. To achieve this meant an all-out team effort. Normar had been operating on a “15-turn” work schedule since late 1981, and a number of employees worked in a labour pool.

Prudent cost-control efforts, productivity improvements and a number of employeegenerated cost saving ideas were adopted – allowing Normar to stave off the worst effects of the economic downturn. rhw photo

Resin control room, mid-1970s.

Doug Mathera had been appointed plant manager that year, arriving in July. “Coming to Canada amid the worst economic times since the Great Depression could’ve been a real problem,” he said. “It wasn’t. Instead, I found an organization already prepared for the times, squeezing out a profit while production volumes were less than 50 per cent of plant capacity.”

Normar’s sacrifice and performance did not go unnoticed at head office. Parkersburg pitched in by sending Normar some of its export business. That gave Normar’s people a considerable morale boost, but beating back the downturn was largely due to the

Barb Kelly, 2006.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 0 3

plant’s long-standing tradition of tackling problems head on, as a team.

Mechanic Maurice Hamilton said the downturn provided an opportunity to implement a number of upgrades. With compounding and resin production dropping off, Maurice and other mechanical and maintenance workers were afforded more time to work on the equipment.

Normar’s customers also were feeling the pinch, putting pressure on the sales and service people to be creative and even more responsive to customer concerns and demands.

“With a downturn, we always see an increase in customer complaints,” shift supervisor Wayne Rusk said in an interview with Chemline. “There’s more nitpicking. We find if business is good, customers can’t get enough material, but the opposite is true during a slowdown. We’re the ones who handle the complaints.

We also have a lot of small orders, which mean a lot of colour samples. One month we processed over 200 samples, which was unusual for us.”

For the most part, Normar’s excellent reputation for customer service and product quality helped customers gets through the worst of the recession.

“We’re known as the type of company that comes through for our customers and our own people,” sales rep Paul Guilbeault said in late 1982. “Our products are generally as good as or better than the competition’s, but we’re more consistent that anyone else with most of our products.”

Chemical operator Glen Partridge, one of the ones in the labour pool, was more than willing to do whatever job was tossed his way. “I’m the lowest one on the seniority ladder,” he said in 1982, “so I’ve kept an active interest in the economic situation.

If anyone were laid off, I’d be the first to go. Ever since the slowdown, I’ve been pulling guard duty on Saturdays and Sundays. We’ve had to give up our weekends and fill in for vacationers. I’ve been working in compounding, projects and cleaning.

We’d rather be back to our three-day workweek but we understand. At least Borg-Warner has kept me working.”

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Down on the Bayou Doug Mathera

Doug and Johanna Mathera.

Those wondering whatever became of Doug Mathera, Normar’s plant manager from 1982 until 1987, need look no further than Chocolate Bayou, Texas.

Chocolate Bayou? You may be forgiven if you figured that might sound like some kind of exotic Cajun delicacy. Actually, it’s a tiny community, 19 kilometres south of Alvin, almost exactly halfway between Houston and Galveston. In the mid-1920s, when it was home to a cotton-and-sugar plantation, Chocolate Bayou boasted 150 inhabitants. By 1990, fewer than 60 people lived in the area. Today its major claim to fame is that it’s the site of the 728hectare (1,800-acre) Equistar Chemicals facility, owned by the giant, Houston-based Lyondell Chemical Company39, formerly Arco.

The Chocolate Bayou complex hosts two fully integrated sites, and has 400 employees and

contractors. One unit produces olefins – ethylene, propylene, benzene and butadiene. The other, a polymer unit, uses the ethylene as feedstock to produce high-density polyethylene. Doug’s the plant manager.

Even though he was born in Pittsburgh and grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, there’s no mistaking the slight Texas drawl in Doug’s voice. He may now be 2,700 kilometres away from Cobourg but, as far as he’s concerned, he and his family still feel very close to Normar. The people, he said, were what made his fiveyear tenure there one of the most memorable times in his 30-year career in the industry. “They were extremely warm, friendly and helpful,” he said. “It was a delight to work with them.”

Doug’s path to Cobourg began in 1975 soon after he graduated with his Master of Science degree in industrial administration from Pittsburgh’s prestigious Carnegie Mellon University. He entered Carnegie Mellon’s business administration program after earning his chemical engineering degree in 1973 from the Illinois Institute of Technology in Chicago.

Right after graduation, Doug joined Borg-Warner Chemicals, working as an engineer in the operations

planning group in downtown Parkersburg, where he was involved in developing simulations of BWC’s polymer compounding facilities. A year later he moved over to the Woodmar plant as a process engineer, then was appointed production manager at Woodmar’s latex facility. This was Doug’s “big break”. The latex facility generally was considered to be a launching pad for upand-coming managers. Bill Patient was another former Normar plant manager who served at the latex facility before moving on to more senior postings.

“There was a very strong group of people there and you got a good view of the business,” Doug said, “and it was my first real introduction to Normar. The poly-butadiene we manufactured there was shipped by railcar to Normar.” Doug also had been involved in specifying compounding equipment for Normar, visiting the plant a number of times, and was among those responsible for recommending the installation of Normar’s Baker-Perkins twin-screw extruder.

After three years at the latex plant, Doug was offered the opportunity to take over as Normar’s plant manager, initially for a three-year assignment. He was almost instantly impressed by the way the plant operated. “The plant was run by a four-person committee – the plant manager, the controller, the sales manager and the marketing manager, and we all reported back to a vicepresident or general manager in the States,” he said.

Normar was allowed a degree of “de-layered” independence not enjoyed to the same extent by the American plants. This structure opened up opportunities for innovation and creativity, as well as quicker response time in dealing with employee and customer issues.

One of the most important strategic innovations devised during Doug’s tenure involved working with one of Normar’s DWV customers to manufacture pipe directly from powder, rather than pellets. This resulted in significant savings to the customer and, since Normar was the only plant supplying the resin powder, it created a significant profit windfall for BWC. “That was a great project that significantly changed the market share between ourselves and Monsanto (BWC’s only competitor in Canada at the time). There was a

pretty significant market shift in terms of market share when we did that project,” he said.

Increased demand for Normar’s resin necessitated an expansion of the plant’s resin facility. That, too, was done with remarkable swiftness and ingenuity. “We built another reaction train on the outside of the resin building while the plant was still operating, which minimized the downtime. We built it in such a way that we were able to break a hole through the wall and tie it all together. It was a very well conceived project.”

Of course, this all happened before the Canada-U.S. Free Trade Agreement came into effect. Prior to free trade, Canadian tariffs on imported resin meant that Borg-Warner Chemicals Canada and Monsanto were, in effect, a duopoly. Once the trade barriers were removed, customers were able to take advantage of much cheaper feedstock from American and offshore suppliers.

When Doug was first sent to Normar in 1982, it was struggling to make a profit. “(Parkersburg) told me just to try to keep us out of the red ink. By the time I left in ’87, the plant was making a million dollars a month in terms of profit.” This, he said, was entirely a reflection of the close-knit, customer-focused dedication of Normar’s little troupe of Canadian entrepreneurs.

Doug had an inkling of what to expect well in advance of his assignment to Cobourg, and he also had received important counselling on American-Canadian relations and cultural differences. “Les Boysen gave me a lot of advice in terms of the differences in culture and what I needed to watch for,” he said, adding that Borg-Warner was a “great company” when it came to being sensitive to the differences between Americans and Canadians.

“I was 32 years old when I went up there and I got a whole lot of advice in terms of what my behaviours needed to be and how I needed to act, and to show proper respect for Canadians and Canadian culture; to be mindful of all of those things. That was the tutelage that Boysen gave me, and I appreciated it tremendously.”

BWC president Len Harvey, an ex-patriot Canadian, also kept close tabs on Normar’s progress. “I remember Len coming to see me. He called me one morning. I was in my office and he was in Toronto

on business. When I answered the phone, he said, ‘Mathera, this is Harvey, what are you doing?’”

This threw Doug for a bit of a loop – after all, he was talking to the president of the company – but he quickly came up with the right answer: “I’m working, sir!” “Good,” said Len. “I’m in Toronto, I’ll be up to see you in about an hour.”

“That’s just the way Len was,” Doug said. “He came out, walked around the plant with me, conducted some business and left. There wasn’t any pomp and circumstance, he just wanted to see how things were.”

While Doug was running things in Cobourg, Jack Russell was in Parkersburg, being readied to take over the reins. Originally from Cornwall, Ontario, Jack would become only the second Canadian in nearly 17 years (since Leo Kowal) to run the plant.

Canadian immigration laws mandated that American citizens working in senior management positions in Canada each year needed to apply for visa extensions. The extensions would be granted only if it could be proven there were no qualified Canadians available. At the time, BWC wasn’t being pressured by the federal government to appoint a Canadian plant manager, but the company believed it prudent to return local management to Canadian hands. His training complete, Jack was appointed to replace Doug in 1987, a year before GE purchased BWC. Returning to Parkersburg, Doug was appointed to a position in Borg-Warner’s marketing department,

The Mathera family.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 0 5

initially assigned to a project to convert BWC’s outdated emulsion polymerization process. His work coincided with efforts under way at the company’s new plant in Mississippi, under direction of Normar’s old friend, Leo Kowal.

“We would mix his material in with emulsion product in order to have a final product that had lower volatiles when it was molded or extruded. The backbone of our technology was this old, World-WarII-vintage emulsion polymerization,” Doug explained.

“We could see that with the hot-air dryers and the emissions it produced, that the handwriting was on the wall and we would need to phase out some of that technology and bring on new technology in the form of bulk polymerization.”

About six months after Doug was sent back to the States to begin the transition process for the new product line, he was reassigned and became materials manager with responsibility for transportation, the customer service group, and the compounding and resin plants. It was about this time that BWC was “hunkering down” in the face of the leveraged buy-out.

Once GE took over BWC’s operations, Doug continued as materials manager during the transition phase. During the later part of 1988 and early 1989, Doug was offered a number of positions within the GE Plastics division.

“About that time, Arco had started talking to me about possibly making a change,” he said. Doug joined Arco Chemical Company in 1989 as assistant plant manager at the company’s Bayport facility. Arco’s headquarters were at Newton Square, Pennsylvania, just outside Philadelphia. Its primary product was propylene oxide, one of the raw materials used to produce polyurethane foam. Doug was promoted to plant manager in 1991. He remained at Bayport as plant manager until late 2002 when he was asked to manage Lyondell’s Chocolate Bayou complex. Lyondell acquired Arco Chemical in 1998.

Doug and his wife Johanna now live in Houston.

Two of their children, Richard, 21, and Georgia, 19, were born in Cobourg. Their youngest, “C.D.”, 17, was born in the States.

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Ernie’s Epiphany Ernie Everingham

control manager. “Go find out what the hell this SPC stuff is all about.”

Ernie, who at that point had been with Normar nearly 15 years, was skeptical, but nonetheless started phoning around, contacting various consulting firms.

Ernie (right) with Ron Sargent, late 1970s.

Plant manager Doug Mathera was getting some heat from Ford Motor Company, one of Normar’s biggest customers. It was the mid-1980s and Ford was already in the midst of its famous “Quality is Job 1” program, which demanded that its suppliers adhere to the new Q-1 dogma. It wasn’t a request. It was a requirement.

Q-1, more formally known as Statistical Process Control (SPC), was the forerunner of Total Quality Management (TQM), which, in turn, with significant refinements, led to General Electric’s own highly successful and internationally acclaimed Six Sigma program. Normar would later adopt Six Sigma after the GE takeover.

“Ford wants charts; lots of charts,” Doug told Ernie Everingham, his operations manager and quality

By the end of the week, he finally got in touch with George Rosensweig, a Toronto-area consultant who, as it turned out, happened to be a leading SPC guru.

Ernie was about to experience an epiphany.

Rosensweig agreed to meet but, because he was about to leave on a business trip, suggested that Ernie drive out to meet with him that weekend.

When Ernie returned to work on the following Monday, he was a changed man. He’d seen the SPC light.

“I went out to his house on a Sunday afternoon and I sat there utterly enthralled for four or five hours,” Ernie said. “George gave me a quickie course on SPC. It was like I’d been to a revival meeting. I came back to the plant like I’d had some kind of a religious experience. I’d met the lord of SPC, and that was George.”

Rosensweig explained that, several years earlier, Ford had been importing from Japan about 20 per cent of the transmissions it needed for a certain vehicle model. Maintenance and customer satisfaction surveys showed the Japanese transmissions were much more reliable than

rhw photo

Ford’s. Ford needed to find out why, and pulled 10 transmissions off its assembly line, took them apart and carefully measured each component. All were within stated specifications. But, when they examined the Japanese parts, Ford’s technicians

discovered there was so little variation that they thought their testing equipment was giving false readings. The Japanese parts were nearly perfect.

The Japanese were practising SPC. They were more interested in controlling the process of producing parts than in checking to see whether the parts met specifications. While Ford may have been willing to accept a given percentage of faulty components as being an inevitable part of the manufacturing process, the Japanese were involved in an endless quest for perfection.

It was something they’d learned from the founder of the TQM movement, W. Edwards Deming, an American statistician who was a prime force in Japan’s post-Second-World-War recovery.

Ford instantly latched onto SPC and insisted that its supplier do the same.

“This was amazing stuff. I clearly understood what George was saying – you can’t manage what you can’t measure. Basically, if you can control all the aspects of a process, you can make a good quality product,” Ernie said, explaining how SPC would apply to Borg-Warner Chemicals’ operations. “You

have to control everything – from the raw materials to the training of the operators, to temperature controllers.”

There was no looking back. Ernie, now a true SPC disciple, made arrangements for Rosensweig to visit Normar and speak with the rest of the plant’s managers. In the interim, Rosensweig arranged for Ernie to enrol in a course offered by none other than the great man himself, W. Edwards Deming.

“Deming was amazing.

He was 85 years old at the time and deaf as a post. He was a man of immense wealth, but only owned one suit. He was an absolutely marvellous individual. I took a four-day course with him.”

If Ernie had even the slightest misgivings about SPC before his session with Deming, they were totally erased by the time he finished the course.

Ernie was now on a mission, and he was convinced he could convert the entire BWC organization, starting with Normar.

Rosensweig was hired to spend one day a week at the plant, examining and evaluating each department’s work processes.

“I’ll never forget one of those meetings,” Ernie said. “One of our lads who did the raw materials testing was showing George his test results from the past four years or so and George, a very blunt man, said, ‘This is all wrong. This can’t be. This is foolish.

These results are useless.’”

Ernie said the lab technician was almost reduced to tears. He’d been using the same equipment for years and had always gotten the same results.

But Rosensweig was able to show that it was the equipment, not the technician, that was at fault. To prove his point, Rosensweig put some lemon juice in the testing unit and received identical results.

A short while later, Ernie was invited to Parkersburg to share his SPC knowledge with key head-office managers. While wary at first – at least one VP called the program “a complete load of crap” – eventually BWC wholeheartedly embraced SPC as the cornerstone of its overall quality control program.

“We learned that SPC was not something you could go out and do all at once,” Ernie said. “We took a slow and deliberate approach. SPC required considerable investment in better monitoring instruments and intensive training at all levels in the organization.”

Dave Lemming, BWC’s manager of divisional quality control, was among SPC’s first converts. Interviewed in the July/August 1985 issue of Chemline, Dave explained that SPC centred on “improving quality by reducing variability. We look at SPC as a tool to improve quality. It doesn’t solve problems – it merely points them out.”

While it was clear Ernie was SPC’s best proponent, he was overlooked when it came time to introduce and manage the project on a system-wide basis at BWC. He was disappointed when the job was given to a Parkersburg-based manager, but took the slight in stride, despite the fact he’d served as divisional quality control manager in Parkersburg from 1974 to 1976. He then went on to Linmar in the same capacity, where he served for four years before returning to Normar in December 1979 as operations manager.

He’d covered a lot of territory since he first joined Normar as a process engineer. Born in 1936, in Stoughton, Saskatchewan, about 125 kilometres southeast of Regina, Ernie grew up on his family’s grain farm. He earned his chemical engineering degree from the University of Saskatchewan in 1958 and later joined DuPont Canada, where he worked for nine years in Maitland, Sarnia and Kingston, Ontario. He then joined Ingersoll-Rand, where he spent nearly three years before being hired at Normar in February 1970, where he served until his retirement in 1992. He and his wife, Mary Jane, still live in Cobourg but spend winters at their home in Mesa, Arizona.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 0 7

Aladdin’s Cave

rhw photo

Des Barry

It was something like being a little kid in a big candy store. In 1989 when GE decided against going ahead with the Shelbyville plant in Kentucky, tonnes of brand new equipment ended up in storage at Parkersburg’s huge warehouse. Normar’s engineering manager Des Barry was among the first to scurry down to take a look. “I took some of my people down with me and walked them through the warehouse,” he said. “It was like walking into Aladdin’s Cave.”

In Aladdin’s Cave, there were hundreds of pieces of equipment and spare parts, many still in their original shipping crates. Belt feeders, blowers, transformer substations, pellet-classifiers and extruders – all were up for grabs, and Des quickly scrawled “Canada” on much of Shelbyville’s ill-fated booty. Included was a 92-millimetre extruder, one that Des had been after for several months.

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“At the time any (GE Plastics) plant that wanted this stuff could have it, and it didn’t have to be part of their capital projects,” Des said. “I wanted to upgrade a lot of things at Cobourg and this was a golden opportunity. I took what I wanted. We made out like bandits!”

Des had been with Normar since 1983, hired by plant manager Doug Mathera and Ernie Everingham, following engineering manager Dave Starratt’s retirement. The late ’70s and early ’80s were a time of considerable expansion at Normar, beginning in 1979 with the installation of Silos 7 and 8, one of Starratt’s many projects. When Des arrived, he went straight to work overseeing construction of the resin plant’s new air emission reduction system, followed by a project to upgrade the wastewater treatment plant.

Des had considerable experience working in industrial settings. Before immigrating to Canada in 1973 from his birthplace, Larne, County Antrim, in Northern Ireland, Des had been engineering manager with Michelin Tire at its huge plant near Belfast.

He joined Michelin in 1964 as an electrical foreman and toured many of Michelin’s European plants, including its flagship operations in France. Despite its size, he said Michelin always showed exemplary concern for its employees and their families. But Northern Ireland was in the midst of its “troubles”, and after terrorist bombers had twice targeted the plant, Des decided he needed a safer place to raise his family.

“The company was fantastic but the atmosphere was lousy in Northern Ireland,” he said. “We ended up going to too many funerals.”

Des and his family moved to Canada soon after he was hired as manager of engineering at MansfieldDenman-General Tire Co. in Barrie, Ontario. Des was familiar with the Georgian Bay region and southwestern Ontario. Before joining Michelin, and soon after graduating from Larne College of Technology in the late 1950s, he worked as a project engineer with The British Thompson-Houston Co. Ltd. (which became a GE company), at the time the largest turbine manufacturer in the world. BTH

Dave Starratt.

opened a plant in Larne in 1956. While with BTH, Des had been involved in major turbine installation projects in Port Elgin and Kincardine, Ontario (both about 220 kilometres northwest of Toronto).

In 1981, soon after the General Tire takeover, Des moved to United Tire where he worked as engineering manager. All the while, Des was looking for a company that mirrored Michelin’s attitudes toward employees. Two years later he found it when he joined BWC. “Borg-Warner was non-union, which said right away they treated their people well,” he said. “I remember coming home and telling my wife that things must be good there because (employee) complaints were fairly petty.” A lot of that had to do with the fact that the company was performing well. Normar was on a roll. Profit margins were high – among the best, if not the best in the BWC organization.

“When a company’s profitable, it’s easier to work for than a company that’s struggling,” he said. “I’d come from the tire industry where there was a two- to three-per-cent return on sales. We’d have a hundred million dollars worth of sales and just two or three million dollars in bottom-line profit. At Borg-Warner Chemicals it was something like 50- to 60-per-cent return on sales – and that was astronomical.”

One of the keys to this success was Normar’s resin plant. Its product was considered the best in North America. Not only was it preferred by Normar’s

Canadian customers, it also was much sought after

by Normar’s sister plants, particularly Calmar.

Normar’s high-quality resin was the result of work done principally by the late Doug Irwin, and involved development of a more uniform and operator-friendly particle size.

Des explained: “If you have good particle size, then you have higher extruder throughput. The particle size is developed in the reaction process, where you’ve got all your material in the blend tanks. They would bring that in and start to coagulate it through the coagulator and in that unit they would inject steam through a vortex. The guy that developed the jet system for doing this was Doug Irwin.”

The preference for Normar’s resin was a boon for Cobourg. Normar had expanded its operation in 1979 to meet the demand for increased production when it developed its niche market as a direct-to-product supplier for the DWV business – resin powder to finished product, bypassing production of pellets.

At the same time, with its ability to get more out of its resin facility, the plant also was able to increase its overall production. This meant it needed more extruders. When Des started there were just six extruders. By the time he left, there were at least 16. The resin plant expansion necessitated a multi-million-dollar upgrade of Normar’s existing wastewater treatment plant – already one of the most advanced industrial treatment facilities in Canada.

Installation of raised silos (#7 and #8), 1979.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 0 9

Doug Irwin.

Environmental responsibility Marbon Chemicals had pioneered development of processes to treat plastics plant waste, dating back to the early 1950s. This was due in large part to the fact that ABS production was new and there was little information regarding treatment methods or design standards. It fell to Marbon to do the necessary investigations and to develop specialized treatment systems and processes. And, as Marbon grew and was absorbed by Borg-Warner Chemicals, new plant construction coincided with rising concerns about environmental protection.

While pH control and solids removal had been practised at each plant, it soon became evident that further treatment would be required. MarbonBWC also had built new plants – in Canada, the U.K, the Netherlands, Australia and Japan,

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all with different attitudes toward, and laws governing, wastewater treatment.

It was simpler and more prudent for BWC to develop systems that met or exceeded the most rigid of regulations.

In the fall of 1967 Marbon established a pollution control team and launched a comprehensive program to investigate chemical characterization of wastewater, determine its biodegradability and accumulate data from pilot plant studies, all aimed to prepare a design for a full-scale system.

At the pilot plant, the waste stream was neutralized and process solids were removed before entering an aeration tank. Sludge solids were trapped in a settling chamber and pumped back for mixing with the influent stream.

Based on the pilot plant’s results, it was decided that an extended aeration system would best meet the Ontario Water Resources Commission (OWRC) requirements as well as Normar’s physical characteristics. The first phase of this system – a surface, stabilization-type operation – was completed and started up in April 1970.

Installation of a second clarifier and sludge recirculation equipment was completed during the summer of 1971.

When it was finished, Normar’s wastewater treatment system consisted of a complete series of vessels through which all processing wastes

were passed. Liquid wastes were fed into a spill, or trapping pond, for primary sedimentation. This basin also served to cushion any shock load of high-strength wastes.

From the trapping pond, the wastes were fed into a neutralizing chamber where the pH was adjusted with the addition of lime. The flow then passed into a settling pond before entering an aeration basin. The aeration basin was equipped with two 40-horsepower surface aerators.

Mounted on a simple, steel-beam grid supported on concrete columns, each mechanical aerator was centrally positioned to provide complete mixing and aeration for one-half of the basin’s one million gallons of contents.

After aeration, the flow was passed through a clarifier. Sludge settling in the clarifier was returned to the aeration basin as activated sludge, while scum skimmed from the surface was passed back to the trapping pond. Treated effluent was pumped into Lake Ontario.

Normar worked closely with the OWRC through all stages of the treatment plant’s development.

Commission technicians were able to provide valuable advice concerning laboratory analysis and design of the full-scale facility.

An award winner Normar’s wastewater treatment plant was considered to be far superior to most other industrial facilities of the day. More important, Normar – and Borg-Warner Chemicals as a whole – recognized their responsibility to the environment and the importance of the contributions of its operating personnel. Normar’s pilot project and Borg-Warner’s overall pollution control policies were described in a paper presented to the 17th annual Industrial Waste Conference sponsored by the OWRC, and held at Niagara Falls in June 1970. In recognition of its efforts, in 1971 Normar received a special award from the Canadian Institute of Pollution Control.

In the early 1980s the Ontario Ministry of Environment enacted much more stringent regulations concerning the disposal of liquid waste, virtually banning dumping at landfill sites. Under Des Barry, Normar’s system was re-engineered with a project to remove most of the solids with expanded floating aeration and a second 30-foot

clarifier. The multi-million-dollar upgrade was completed in 1985. The new system earned Normar yet another award, this time from the Ontario government.

Good governance with regard to environmental issues at Normar was not merely in response to government regulations and, aside from the

fact it made good business sense, it also was a reflection of the views of the plant’s relatively young workforce. Many had grown up during the 1960s and had been influenced by the growing environmental movement. In addition, many lessons were learned as a result of the OPEC energy crisis and the recession of 1982. Employees and

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 1 1

Bob Chick.

Lorne Vance.

management worked as one to develop energy conservation and environmental awareness programs.

In the late 1970s the plant launched an energy committee dedicated to finding new ways to conserve energy and improve employees’ overall awareness of how they could contribute to lowering costs – both at work and at home.

The committee represented all areas of the plant.

Its members included Bob Chick, Ken Ellis, Lorne Vance, Jerry Dolley, Roger Pearce, Jim Helps, Don Ford, Jim Burns, Ron Mitchell, Willis Douglas, Glen Partridge, Diane Templer, Ron Chambers and Leighton Westington. Largely through the committee’s efforts, Normar was able to make important strides in improving its energy use. In 1983, for example, the year Des Barry joined, the plant had bettered its energy consumption goal by

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3.4 per cent. Despite a production increase of slightly more than 10 per cent, total energy consumption for the year dropped by nearly five per cent when compared to the plant’s previous best year, 1981.

When Des started at Normar, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the spirit of teamwork and pride that permeated virtually every aspect of Normar’s operation – whether it was the day-to-day work, safety or special projects and programs. “The one thing that I found very quickly was that the people were extremely proud of where they worked. They were very much company people, and I think that’s another reason why they didn’t see the necessity to be unionized,” Des said.

New employees, he added, were welcomed instantly and soon became fully-fledged members of Normar’s tight team. “They went out of their way to accept you,” he said. “I remember my first day.

People would come up and introduce themselves.

We had a coffee meeting every Wednesday, so you were introduced to everybody. It wasn’t a matter of taking weeks and weeks to get to know everyone.”

Student on painting detail.

Since Des had worked locally at United Tire, many of the employees already knew him. As well, the Barrys’ daughter, Deirdre, had worked at Normar in personnel and production planning, and their daughter Lorraine also worked at the plant as a summer student while attending Sir Sandford Fleming College. The practice of giving priority to employees’ children for summer staffing further reinforced employees’ attachment to the company, Des said. Summer students gained important work experience as well as cash to put toward their continuing education.

Normar’s co-op program with the University of Waterloo not only assisted those students in gaining practical work experience, but also provided Normar with a wealth of new engineering knowledge, particularly during the time the plant first introduced rudimentary automated systems.

An example, Des explained, was the automation of the resin plant. “Initially, it was all done by the seat of your pants, rule of thumb and the knowledge of the particular operators. But then, progressively, that knowledge was programmed into a computer.”

SuperPET

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By “computer” Des meant the Commodore40 “SuperPet”, also known as Micro-Mainframe or MMF9000. Now an antique, the SuperPet, first introduced as the PET 2001 in 1977 and in commercial production by 1981, had all of 98 KB of RAM and ran at a snail-like 1 MHz. “Pet” stood for “Personal Electronic Transactor”. It retailed for $2,795 – expensive at the time.

The University of Waterloo’s co-op students knew all about SuperPet. After all, the university’s Computer Systems Group had designed it. So, not only did Normar have a group of young students eager to put their theoretical training to work, but it also had a team of computer-savvy, up-and-coming engineers capable of applying emerging information technology to plant operations. In turn, Normar’s operating employees were gaining first-hand

Bob Gilpin using Commodore 9000 in resin control room.

experience in the whole new world of computers.

“The guys were becoming computer-literate,” Des said, “and they looked for more and more opportunities to put things under computer control – weigh-up, mass-flow meters, for example. BorgWarner Cobourg was the first to use massflow meters. The University of Waterloo co-op students did a lot of the technology. Their contribution to the plant was quite high.” A lot of the “engineering know-how” came from the students. “That’s how the Cobourg plant became almost standalone in a lot of these things.”

Des remained with GE Plastics Cobourg until he got his notice in February 1992. In

August 1992 he became engineering manager for PaintPlas, a company specializing in the painting of exterior plastic automotive parts. Two years later he was asked to return to GE Plastics and was involved in moving the Port Union sheet plant to Cobourg, where it was housed in the north warehouse.

“From 1994 until I left in 2000, we were very busy – four building expansions, new extruder lines, the recycling facility. A lot happened and those were exciting times. GE invested millions and millions of dollars in capital programs.” The opening of the recycling plant, he said, was one of his proudest moments.

Des retired on January 11, 2000.

Des and Sheila Barry.

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Knights on the Town and Charlie’s Mangles Whether it was the hilarity of Charlie Farquharson (a.k.a. entertainer Don Harron) or the antics of court jesters at a medieval banquet, creativity always reigned at Normar’s off-campus special events.

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50 Years of Borg-Warner Chemicals

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Back to Basics

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Jack Russell

The offer was a rewarding and challenging career in a friendly, picturesque town. The money was good and the people were great to work with. What more could a young and ambitious civil engineer ask for? Well, how about an office with a window?

When Jack Russell left Gulf Oil in 1979 to join BorgWarner Chemicals, he had all of the above, including a window.

“When I started at Normar, I was assigned an office that I shared with (the late) Bill Harvey, a great production clerk who’d been at the plant since Normar’s earliest days. At the back of the office was this window, and it had a great view – of a silo, just two feet away,” Jack laughed. The view would get better – and change several times – during Jack’s decade-long career at BWC/GE Plastics.

Born in Cornwall, Ontario, in 1953, Jack

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graduated from Queen’s University in 1976. After graduation, he spent three years in two different jobs with Gulf Oil in Toronto before being transferred to Belleville where he worked as an industrial sales representative selling Gulf ’s line of lubricants. His sales territory extended from Bowmanville on the west to Kingston on the east, and north to the Lindsay-Peterborough area. Jack called on hundreds of plants in the region, including the occasional visit to Borg-Warner’s Marbon Chemicals Division in Cobourg.

Jack developed a sharp interest in how his customers’ plants operated, and enjoyed learning about the various types of equipment they used. His job was to assist his customers in selecting the right types of lubricants and oils for their equipment.

“I really got into a lot of the plants and decided that I wouldn’t mind doing plant engineering or production engineering, because I guess I saw that as a way to avoid moving back to Toronto. I was never too keen on living and working there,” he said.

About a year and a half later, Gulf had developed a plan that would see Jack moving back to Toronto to take up a position in marketing or product management. That clinched it for Jack. He began scanning newspaper career ads, sending out résumés and registering with an engineering placement agency. A short while later, he noticed a Borg-Warner ad for a process-engineering job. He applied and soon was invited for an interview with plant manager Leo Kowal.

Jack didn’t hesitate when Leo offered him the job.

He was sold on Normar and its people.

Each day Jack would commute to Cobourg from Belleville, about a 45-minute drive. His wife, Pam, headed the opposite direction, commuting to her job at Bell Canada in Kingston, about a 50-minute drive. “We did that for about six months,” he said, “and then, lo and behold, an opportunity came up for an engineering job at Normar. My wife’s a mechanical engineer. Most of the people already knew Pam since we attended most of the social gatherings. We were at the annual Christmas party

Pam and Jack Russell.

and Leo and (BWC vice-president) Bill Patient were there. They got talking about the fact they needed a maintenance engineer and asked Pam if she’d be interested.”

A week later, and a year after Jack had started with Normar, Pam joined the team. A short while after Pam was hired Jack was promoted to production manager in the resin plant, replacing Doug Irwin who’d moved to a position in distribution and materials management. He’d learned a lot from his co-workers, as well as some important management-style techniques from Leo and some of the other supervisory staff. Normar’s resin plant was among the most productive of all BWC’s various resin operations. Jack had inherited a well-run department with a dedicated staff.

“Our unit cost of production per pound of resin was better than any of the other larger plants,” Jack said. “We always used to joke about the fact that the big plants got all the money and had all the resources in Parkersburg or (Ottawa) Illinois, but when it came right down to it, we were the most profitable.”

Jack placed the credit for his department’s success squarely on Resin’s operators. “They knew the processes extremely well,” he said, adding that most, if not all, employees throughout the plant were true disciples of the Borg-Warner philosophy. “The principles were embedded in the people, dating back to the early days of Marbon.”

As one after another of the so-called “flavours-ofthe-week” management guides began showing up in bookstore windows during the late ’70s and early ’80s, BWC already was years ahead of them. There was no need to apply fancy buzzword labels to what simply was common sense.

The six principles “Not too many things change in the way you deal with people. You can change the words and call what you’re doing by different titles, but it still comes down to following the basics,” he said, rhyming off Borg-Warner’s famous six principles – safety, housekeeping, quality, delivery, production and profit. “You take care of the basics. You take care of the people, and you treat them as your best assets. You don’t treat them like commodities that you turn on and off.”

When BWC hired someone, it generally was assumed the employee would stay with the company as long as he or she wanted. This had a lot to do with the pre-hire screening process. “With enough screening, you get the right people and the right skills. There should be no reason why that person would want to leave,” Jack said.

Leading by example was another principle espoused by Borg-Warner’s senior managers. Little things counted and were noticed. “I think it was Leo who taught me this,” Jack explained. “For example, if you’re walking in the plant from point A to point B and you happen to see somebody’s dropped a piece of paper or a piece of garbage, you don’t walk by it, you stop and pick it up. Other people see you doing that, and it shows that you’re willing to roll up your sleeves and pitch in. You don’t ask people to do something that you wouldn’t do yourself.”

The various social events also helped forge friendships and strengthen on-the-job team building.

While there was an established hierarchy within the plant, when it came to potato-sack races or ballgames at family-day picnics, everyone more or less was on an even footing – unless, of course,

you happened to be the unfortunate plant manager precariously perched above the dunk tank.

As Normar was relatively remote from headquarters and tiny, compared with the big American plants, it often was relegated to the back burner by senior management in Parkersburg. This was a particularly perplexing problem when it came to investing in new equipment or production programs.

“When it came to making investments, you pretty much had to do things at the lowest possible cost.

We’d never be able to put in the best systems because we couldn’t afford them,” Jack said.

“Anything over a certain dollar level would have to be sent to Parkersburg for approval. Getting that approval was painfully slow. Sometimes it took a year and a half or more.”

Jack, reporting to Woodmar’s plant manager, Ron Smith, was put in charge of polymerization, responsible for about 200 employees. In addition to putting in long hours at the plant, Jack entered the MBA program at the University of West Virginia, where he spent most of his weekends. Pam was unable to work because of visa restrictions and in 1984 she had given birth to Laura, a sister for twoyear-old Erin who was born in Cobourg.

“I’m in this new job, working all kinds of hours.

I’m going to school on weekends and Pam’s stuck at home, can’t work, she has two kids under the age of three to look after and she’s a long way from family and long-term friends. It came to the point where she really wanted to go home.”

Off to Parkersburg

Despite the fact Jack was enjoying his job, he let it be known that, for all concerned, it might be best to consider moving back to Canada. About the same time, Doug Mathera, who’d replaced Ron Bowman in Cobourg, was transferred back to Parkersburg, opening up the plant manager’s position at Normar. Jack was the ideal candidate and was appointed to the post in 1987, just as Borg-Warner Chemicals was about to be sold to GE. “At first we didn’t know who the new owner was going to be, because all kinds of people were coming around and ‘kicking the tires’,” he said.

In 1982, Jack had an opportunity to view first hand how things worked at head office. Two years earlier, Leo Kowal, who’d served at Normar for 10 years, had been selected to start up a new plant in Mississippi. Ron Bowman, an American, was appointed Normar’s new plant manager, replacing Leo. “Ron and I got along very well. He saw that I might be a person who could grow within the organization, and he kind of promoted me with the people in the U.S.,” Jack said. Largely through Ron’s recommendations, Jack was sent to Parkersburg to work in product management.

Ostensibly, the assignment was to last 18 months, or maybe two years at the outside. Jack and Pam ended up staying in Parkersburg for five years.

After the tragic fire at the Linmar plant in 1983, there were a number of management changes at the facility in Ottawa, Illinois. Some of Linmar’s people were transferred to Woodmar and vice versa. “There were some holes that had be filled in Parkersburg, so I was asked to go back into manufacturing, a bigger job, in Parkersburg.”

Home again

“Neutron” Jack Welch.

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“Hoot,” Normar’s snowy owl.

Use of photo courtesy of James Lumbers, the artist.

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“This was a particularly unsettling time because everything was more or less on hold while we were waiting to see what was going to happen.”

When the official announcement was made and GE Plastics took over, things changed rather quickly at Normar – and for Jack. “No question, the company changed,” he said. “It (BWC) went from being a fairly large corporation that felt like a small company to being a division of one of the top five corporations of the world.”

Jack Welch41, chairman of General Electric from 1981 to 2001, was the no-nonsense, often bombastic executive who masterminded GE’s global style of operation. He may not have been overly popular with those used to a kinder, gentler Borg-Warner atmosphere, but under his leadership GE stock climbed a whopping 4,000 per cent.

Winning was what mattered most to “Neutron Jack” – a nickname he hated, but one that has stuck to this day. Those responsible for BWC’s “integration” into GE either marched to Welch’s beat, or they marched out the door.

“There’ve been all kinds of things written about Jack Welch and the way he ran his businesses,” Jack said. “He ran businesses in a very good way. He was a very strategic thinker; he was very focused on principles; and he was very focused on results.”

Jack Russell stayed on at Normar during its initial transformation into the GE fold. Yet when the dust settled, GE decided someone else should run the Cobourg operation for the remainder of the transition period.

Jack was offered jobs at GE Plastics in Mount Vernon, Indiana, and in Selkirk, New York. But he had made the decision to look for something else. Today, he is co-owner and vice-president of Limpact International Limited in Cobourg. Limpact is a manufacturer of custom products for zinc and copper refineries and abrasion-resistant products for areas of extreme abrasion in conveying of materials.

Giving a “Hoot”

James Lumbers in his studio.

For a few months each year during the winters of the mid-1980s, a snowy owl would show up like clockwork and perch in trees and hydro poles alongside the Normar site. From all accounts “Hoot”, as the employees affectionately called him, was a magnificent bird. Resplendent in his pure white plumage, he was nearly half a metre tall, with a wingspan of nearly 1.5 metres, and probably weighed close to two kilograms.

But Hoot was an owl with a difference. He was on the lam. No one was really sure where he came from but during his annual visits he sported a 30centimetre-long tether, dangling from one of his

legs, indicating that, at one time, he’d been in captivity. Somehow, he’d managed to slip away from his captors and returned to his natural habitat.

In the wild, snowy owls can live at least nine years, but in captivity they’ve been known to live as long as 35 years, so it was possible Hoot was at the upper end of that lifespan. After his escape, Hoot most likely reverted to his natural instincts and, like most other Canadian snowy owls, returned each spring to his breeding grounds in the tundra of the Arctic Circle wilderness.

The area around the plant would have been an ideal spot for Hoot to hunt. While strong and fast enough to catch ducks on the wing – and there were plenty of ducks to choose from along the Lake Ontario shoreline by the plant – Hoot most likely preferred to dine on small mammals, usually voles and mice.

By nature, snowy owls are superbly adaptable to extreme conditions in both summer and winter.

Hoot’s ability to cope with these challenges was one of the main reasons he was selected as Normar’s unofficial mascot. In 1986, when the plant was about to celebrate its 20th anniversary, it

was decided that Hoot would become the model for a limited edition lithograph by famed Canadian wildlife artist James Lumbers. Now 76 and living just south of Owen Sound, Lumbers fondly remembers his encounter with Hoot and considers the snowy owl painting to be one of his favourites.

“I visited the plant several times and took a number of photographs of the owl. He was a beautiful bird.”

The snowy owl project was co-ordinated by Sherry Sanders, at the time Normar’s personnel secretary. She and Susan Groves were responsible for getting the project off the ground, and met with Lumbers in April 1986, soon after he had opened the Blink Bonnie Gallery just east of Grafton.

“He told us of his interest in our plastics plant, due to his industrial background,” Sherry said in her report to NEAC. “He was one of the designers that brought us the plastic Javex bottle, versus the glass one that was formerly used.”

After preparing a number of sketches and studying preserved samples from the Royal Ontario Museum, Lumbers spent three weeks painting Hoot’s portrait in acrylic on board. A 24.5-inch-by19.5-inch lithograph of the original artwork was prepared and printed as a limited edition of 200 copies, signed by the artist. Each Normar employee received a framed and matted print during Normar’s 20th anniversary family day, held October 26, 1986.

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Colour – His World

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Ron Walt

Ron Walt, born and raised in Trenton, was just 19 and working as a welder for a metal fabrications firm when he heard that Borg-Warner was hiring.

He applied and, in July 1967, was hired as a lab inspector. It was a totally new experience for him but he was young and willing to learn. Ed Kraushar was in charge of the lab at the time and Leo Kowal was plant manager. Ron learned quickly under their tutelage.

“I had to learn about the visual assessment of colour,” he said. “I had to go through an evaluation to determine whether I could see colours. I did very well on that test. It’s quite a specialty; it’s something you’re born with. A lot of people are colour blind and don’t know it.”

Ron was not blind to coming changes at Normar.

Borg-Warner Chemicals was for sale. A number of high rollers had lined up to make their bids but the rumour

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mill at Normar whispered that General Electric was the odds-on favourite.

Ron, then quality control supervisor, didn’t like what he was hearing and decided to move on before the actual takeover took place. He was among just a handful of people who left before GE concluded the deal to buy BWC’s Plastics Division in 1988. Others – most of the plant’s supervisors and managers, in fact – would find themselves out of a job soon after GE moved in.

Ron had been at the plant for a little more than 20 years when he left to work for a wire and cable company. That was 18 years ago. He now works as a quality manager with AGS Automotive (A.G. Simpson) in Scarborough, Ontario, but he still looks back at his time at Normar as the high point in his working life.

“I’ve never worked for a company the same as Borg-Warner Chemicals, nor do I think I ever will,” he said from his home near Baltimore, Ontario. “I don’t believe that that type of company will ever come back again. It’s a different world now than it was in those days.”

A different world, indeed, but one thing hasn’t changed as far as he’s concerned Ron Walt in the QC office, late 1970s.

– he’s never forgotten the work principles that were ingrained at Normar – principles he applies to this day.

“The philosophy of Borg-Warner at that time was that we lived on basically six elements: the most important of them was safety; you always did things in a safe manner; the next one was housekeeping; and then quality, delivery and production, and profit. Those were the principles we lived with,” he said. “The top one was safety. It was a very safety-oriented company.”

“We always thought safety all of the time. No one did anything that would cause an injury. If someone thought something was unsafe, he’d just shut it down and make sure it was safe before continuing on. No one was chastised because they thought there was an unsafe condition and did something about it.”

BWC management rewarded individuals, teams and, in fact, the entire plant, for safety-conscious efforts.

Normar consistently turned in stellar safety records, achieving targets that were the envy of the entire Borg-

Warner organization – 250,000 accident-free hours, then 500,000 hours, right up to one million hours without a lost-time injury.

Dear fellow employee …

Borg-Warner Chemicals’ employees had plenty of reason to celebrate in 1986. That was the first year the company hit the magic $1-billion (US) mark in worldwide sales. But it also was a year fraught with confusion and worry. Borg-Warner was the target of a huge corporate takeover.

Much like a number of other corporations across North America, during the mid-’80s, BorgWarner was undergoing a period of the “Three Rs” – Restructuring, Re-engineering and Realignment.

Widely held, publicly traded companies were vulnerable to attack from shrewd investment consortia eager to snap up controlling interest, and then sell off various divisions or business units, often stripping the original company down to little more than a name. Corporations fought back as best they could, often buying up their own shares to stave off hostile takeovers. Some succeeded. Others failed.

During this period, an investment group, led by Irwin Jacobs of Minstar, a Minneapolis-based investor had acquired more than 10 million shares of the Borg-Warner Corporation, representing 12.4 per cent of the firm’s outstanding common stock. The Jacobs group had become BW’s largest shareholder. At the same time, GAF Corporation declared it held 8.6 million Borg-Warner shares, slightly less than 10 per cent of the outstanding shares.

An “unfriendly” acquisition of BW by Minstar or GAF would have given either of them total control of the decision-making process involving BW’s various businesses. BW believed Minstar would have sold off all of BW’s businesses to the highest bidder. GAF, it maintained, seemed only interested in Borg-Warner Chemicals and likely would have divested all of the other businesses for the highest price. Neither of these situations, according to BW management, appeared to be in BW’s best interests.

Borg-Warner’s board decided to fight the hostile takeover through the leveraged buy-out, or LBO, which essentially enabled BW to become a private company by using borrowed money and company officers’ personal funds to purchase its publicly traded shares.

These were complex wheels within wheels and deals within deals – manipulated and understood only by a select few in the upper echelons of high finance. BWC’s president, George J. McNally dutifully attempted to unravel the confusion in a series of letters to employees, beginning in 1986. The letters were carefully crafted to counter workplace rumours while, at the same time, urging employees to soldier on.

By the end of December 1986, GAF and Minstar had increased their holdings of BW to 23.7 per cent. Two months later, Minstar announced that if it were to make an offer for BW shares, the price would be not less than $44 a share. On March 27, 1987 Minstar sold most of its stock to GAF. Four days later, GAF made a formal proposal to acquire BW shares at $46 each.

Then, on April 10, BW’s board agreed to a $48.50-pershare offer from Merrill Lynch Capital Partners.

By May of 1987, Borg-Warner Corporation directors endorsed the leveraged buy-out by a group organized

by Merrill Lynch because they saw it as “the best route for preserving the essential strengths of Borg-Warner and because the offer presented a full and fair price for shareholders.”

Under the terms of the offer, BW was to remain a corporate entity, maintaining its principal businesses and name, but would become a wholly owned subsidiary of AV Holdings Corporation, a newly formed corporation organized at the direction of Merrill Lynch Capital Partners. Instead of being owned by more than 40,000 shareholders, BW would have just one shareholder and its stock no longer would be publicly traded.

At the end of the July 1987, it was official. BorgWarner Corporation had become a private entity, owned by Borg-Warner Holdings Corporation, a subsidiary of Merrill Lynch Capital Partners.

The LBO created a huge debt load.

Then came Black Monday, October 19, 1987, the day the stock market crashed. In the United States, more than $500 billion was lost in one day.

The Dow Jones Industrial Average fell 22.6 per cent, the largest one-day George J. McNally. decline in history.

The crash wasn’t restricted to the U.S. In Canada it was 22.5 per cent; in the U.K. it was 26.4 per cent.

Hong Kong fell 45.8 per cent, and Australia dropped by 41.8 per cent. The crash was almost twice as bad as the one on October 29, 1929 that led to the Great Depression. But its impact wasn’t as far reaching, although it took nearly two years for the market to recover.

BW was keeping its options open – and its cards close to its vest. But it couldn’t contain the rumblings that its Chemicals group was up for sale. By March 1988, BWC was actively seeking suitors for its business. While none was specifically named, BWC said it had “identified several worldwide corporations who may be interested in examining our business more carefully.” These companies were invited to Parkersburg for further discussions.

A month later, BWC had narrowed its list to about a half-dozen suitors. Each spent time with senior BWC management, reviewing business data and touring plant sites. Confidentiality agreements, however, still prevented Borg-Warner from revealing the names of the “mystery shoppers”. By the middle of May 1988, detailed presentations had been made in Parkersburg and other plants to six companies that had shown an interest in acquiring BWC. Even so, in his communication with employees, McNally maintained that Borg-Warner could still elect not to sell and,

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instead, refinance its loans. BWC was becoming increasingly attractive. Its first quarter results were the best in the company’s history. The suitors were duly impressed.

Toward the end of May, the number of prospective buyers had grown to seven. Things were heating up.

Merrill Lynch and Borg-Warner were expecting to receive bids by the first week of June. The expectation was that the price range would be in BW’s ballpark.

All of the speculation and rumours came to a screeching halt the evening of June 15, 1988 when Merrill Lynch and Borg-Warner Corporation signed a purchase agreement with the General Electric Company to acquire the Chemicals group for $2.31 billion (US) in cash. Finalizing the deal, however, would take several months and government approval would be required.

Until such things as antitrust issues were resolved, GE Plastics and Borg-Warner Chemicals would have to continue to operate as separate and distinct companies. As a result, neither company was in a position to respond to issues concerning organizational structure or employee benefits.

BWC employees also received another letter that day, from Glen H. Hiner, senior vice-president and group executive, GE Plastics: “These past few days have been extremely dynamic for both you at Borg-Warner Chemicals and ourselves at GE Plastics.

However, I want to take this early opportunity to welcome you to GE Plastics and to assure you that we are extremely happy to be gaining a truly outstanding business team like Borg-Warner Chemicals.”

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Both Hiner and McNally stressed the two companies’ similarities. BWC and GE Plastics, said McNally, were similar in size and earned about the same return on sales. While there were those who would describe BWC and GE Plastics as night and day when it came to corporate cultures, Hiner maintained the cultures were “very similar.”

As the summer wore on, it was business as usual for both firms while they awaited the outcome of the government review processes. BWC employees were eager to learn what the takeover really meant to them; how their pension plans and other benefits would be affected; whether there would be amalgamations of services; and, most important, whether jobs would be lost and plants closed.

As soon as the takeover was made official, BWC launched a telephone hotline known as the “Connection”, accessible toll-free to BWC employees and their families.

The line became very hot, indeed. But many of the employees’ questions and concerns still could not be adequately addressed because the make-up of the new, integrated operation could not be revealed while government approval was still pending. It would be more than five months before the next steps in integrating the companies could be taken.

On October 28, 1988, GE Plastics took out a full, two-page ad in the Cobourg Daily Star, announcing it had added Borg-Warner Chemicals to its “global network of plastics technology”.

“Cobourg, welcome to the world of GE Plastics!” the ad’s kicker read. The text read: “The worldwide demand for plastics technology is always increasing, and the growth potential for the plastics industry is virtually unlimited. That means growing opportunities for all of us – particularly for a workforce as dedicated to product quality and exceptional service as Borg-Warner Chemicals’ Normar employees have shown themselves to be.”

Confusion … to Fusion

It was a period of adjustment like none other at Normar. Beginning in September 1988 GE Plastics (GEP) began the rather formidable task of blending the culture of a former competitor into its own, nearly century-old42 organization. While GEP and BWC shared similar product lines and markets, their business strategies and management styles varied greatly – despite claims to the contrary in communiqués from both firms.

Borg-Warner Chemicals’ management style, often described as patrimonial, no longer was in lockstep with the dizzying pace of change in the highly competitive global economy, whereas General Electric, a gigantic, multi-national corporation, was a leading architect of change – worldwide.

Its management techniques were models for corporations of all sizes, and its management training programs were trendsetters.

In the four years leading up to the purchase by GE, BWC executives were preoccupied with fending off hostile takeovers. It was a company desperately in need of change and, whether BWC’s rank and file realized it at the time, GE would become its shining knight in ABS armour. The alternative would have been oblivion.

As GE awaited U.S. and Canadian government approval of its BWC purchase, it embarked on a carefully designed, multi-staged program to integrate BWC into its plastics division. With the co-operation of Borg-Warner’s existing senior management, human resources, marketing and communications and community affairs departments, GEP began a comprehensive internal information process.

A toll-free hot line – “The Connection” – was set up to answer questions and address concerns raised by employees and their families. The hot line averaged about 75 calls a day during the fall of 1988.

An in-house publication, Interchange, was launched to aid in setting up a dialogue about the integration process. Interchange, published periodically, was administered out of Pittsfield and Parkersburg, and carried a variety of features and a Q&A section dealing with employee concerns.

Pension plans, payroll procedures, working conditions, investment plans, medical and dental benefits, information systems, policies concerning government and industry affairs, customer relations, strategic planning, and dozens upon dozens of other procedures and programs all had to be examined, analysed, weighted, altered, merged or discarded. This was not merely a matter of changing the sign at the front gate. It would be a lengthy process, and an expensive one.

An example of one of the more complex changes involved the companies’ order-entry systems.

At the time of the takeover, BWC was in the midst of implementing its “1595” order-entry project. GE’s OSB (Order-Ship-Bill) system already had been in use for three years. OSB allowed for immediate availability of on-line order entry, obligating inventory, pricing and on-line credit checking.

It generated shipping documents for same-day shipments and instantaneous data transmission to all internal personnel involved in completing customer transactions. BWC employees involved in the 1595 project were switched over to integrating customer service information into the OSB system.

While this and countless other processes and programs were being readied for amalgamation, the long-awaited government approval was granted – on October 18, 1988 in the United States and on October 24, 1988 in Canada.

Right away, GEP announced it was beginning the integration process with the formation of new commercial teams for marketing and sales. Six days

OSB training, Carm Woods at keyboard, circa 1987.

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later, BWC’s Cobourg operations officially became part of GE Plastics.

The decision to begin with the commercial organization was driven by the need to be responsive to customers who’d already been expressing concern about supply. With the integration of BWC into GEP, a total of 75 commercial positions were eliminated due to overlapping assignments between the two companies.

The official transfer of BWC to GE was done with little fanfare. BWC became a subsidiary, basically allowing its day-to-day operations to continue while change teams fine-tuned the overall integration. The subsidiary arrangement was created to “ensure a smooth transition,” said Bob Brust, integration coordinator for GEP. “We wanted the change to be as undisruptive as possible for employees and customers,” he said in the October 14, 1988 issue of Interchange.

The BWC subsidiary was to continue into 1989, though most employees were to officially transfer to GEP on January 1 of that year.

Systems could be integrated. Operations could be re-engineered. Plants and equipment could be rationalized. Customer service networks could be merged. But the real challenge would be to bring BWC’s people into the GE fold. That would take time. There were those who resisted the change and longed for the golden days of Marbon/BorgWarner; and there were those who accepted – even welcomed – the new owner. But, in the end, it was a done deal, and it was time to get on with the business at hand – making plastic.

Team building would help. Bringing people together, sharing information and strengths, developing new relationships, understanding goals and taking on new challenges – these were paramount issues with GEP.

San Diego, California “Fusion” event.

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Fusion Perhaps the most outstanding example of systemwide team building was GE Plastics’ award winning “Fusion” or “Share to Gain” project, held in California early in 1989. It involved more than 2,000 employees in five separate meetings for its marketing, sales, structured products, manufacturing, petrochemicals and technology divisions. But these were not your typical rallythe-troops, rah-rah sessions held in some hotel conference room, featuring wide-eyed motivational speakers and sermons from the mount.

Instead, Joel Hutt, at the time GEP’s manager of marketing communications, devised a clever plan that not only would serve to help integrate BorgWarner employees – including some from Normar – but also would demonstrate how a large group of

the whole concept of North American business conventions. In many ways, it was akin to today’s Habitat for Humanity.

Barb Acorn, Des Barry, Doug Beauchamp, Bob Chick, Reid Marsh, Ron Mitchell, Richard Osepchook, Jack Russell and Don Wiles were among the Normar employees involved in the various projects. The Copley Family YMCA, located in a racially mixed neighbourhood on San Diego’s east side, was the first site renovation tackled by the team. To say the facility had fallen into a state of disrepair would be something of an understatement.

Randy Morris (far right) at Fusion event.

people could work together and, in a single, eighthour day, achieve something truly remarkable.

“We wanted to put the whole group to work on a project where we could get to know one another, build teamwork and help somebody at the same time,” Hutt said in a feature story for GE’s Monogram magazine. “We needed a big enough project for 470 people and one where we could really see a transformation in a single day.”

Hutt’s concept was to choose facilities that served the entire community but were in desperate need of repair. Five sites in the San Diego area were selected – the Copley Family YMCA, Camp Surf (YMCA), a homeless shelter operated by St. Vincent de Paul, the W.J. Oakes Boys’ Club and the Armed Forces YMCA. The “Fusion” project, while simple on the surface, would become an event that may well have changed

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Doug Beauchamp (2nd from right) at Fusion event.

It hadn’t seen a coat of paint in 15 years and had become a favourite target for graffiti artists and other vandals. Its windows had been smashed; the boys’ locker room had been seriously damaged; the sprinkler system had been ripped out; and what was left had deteriorated over time.

The group was divided into 30 teams, with each team electing a captain and a safety officer. Hutt showed a video of the Copley in its original, rundown state. “Tomorrow morning,” he told them, “like an army we’re going to attack this YMCA. By the end of the day, it’s going to be perfect. I think I can make you one promise. You’re going to be dirty! You’re going to be tired! But you’re going to feel great!”

An advance team had spent two months preparing the site. The building’s windows were removed.

Dead or dying shrubbery was pulled up. Working

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with local contractors, Hutt’s team assembled tonnes of tile, paint and tools. Scaffolding had been erected on three sides of the building and dumpsters positioned at both ends of the Y. The facility’s playground was transformed into a staging area, stocked with coffee, juices and pastries. Team members were provided with coveralls, painting caps, hard hats, safety glasses, dust masks and tools.

Work started at 7:30 a.m. The teams swarmed over the site, carting off the old carpeting and destroyed lockers. They filled the first dumpster an hour and a quarter later.

The teams had spent the previous evening coming up with team names and logos, which they painted on their coveralls. Team 8, assigned to the boys’ locker room, of course called themselves the “Athletic Supporters”. Team 25, responsible for landscaping, dubbed themselves “National Environmental Reclamation Development Specialists” – NERDS. Inside the Y, teams began ripping up tile and scraping and priming the ceiling and walls.

Another team cleaned and primed window frames in preparation for the installation of new panels made of GE’s Lexan resin. By 4 p.m. a cheer went up from inside the building; the first work project had been completed. Others quickly followed. But one of the projects was falling behind schedule – restoration of a two-storey mural that, 20 years earlier, had been painted by a local artist, profiling

five women of different races. GE wanted to ensure the mural was restored to its original splendour. A week earlier the mural team’s captain had visited the site to match the 34 colours used in creating the original work. The team, working as if they were repainting the Sistine Chapel, finally applied the final brush strokes just as the sun was setting.

The 12-hour workday was done and 99 per cent of what the teams had set out to do had been accomplished.

They went through 11,000 square feet of tile, 2,200 square feet of carpeting, 550 gallons of paint, more than a thousand trees, bushes and shrubs, two truckloads of topsoil, 300 pounds of grass seed and 21 cubic yards of concrete – and this was just the first of five similar projects that other teams would tackle in the weeks ahead.

Summing things up, Joel Hutt said, “We can never go back to doing anything trivial again.”43 In March 1991, GE Plastics was one of five winners of the first annual Business Enterprise Awards for its “Share to Gain” project. The Business Enterprise Trust, a national organization in the U.S. which focuses on exceptional courage, integrity and social vision in business, presented GEP with a citation, commending the teams for their “courage to explore new ways of building team spirit and company morale; for inventing a highly replicable model for corporate America; for providing significant, lasting benefits to the community and for sensitizing … employees to the plight of the poor and to the satisfactions of community service.”

Reaching Beyond the Minimal

“I still remember the interview,” Don said. “It was one of the most enjoyable times I’ve ever had. Old Doc Porter finally came out and told me that he’d had me do a few extra tests because I’d scored differently than most people he’d seen. He didn’t quite know what to make of me, but I’m a little different than the average bear.”

Dr. Porter’s evaluation system scored candidates on four basic scales – power, money, society and religion. Of the four, society was considered the most important. Don didn’t score at all on the religion category. But that wasn’t out of the ordinary since that scale primarily was designed to determine whether an individual was cut out to go into the priesthood.

The thing that perplexed Dr. Porter was that Don had scored equally on the first three scales. That was unusual. Normally, Dr. Porter’s subjects would turn in lopsided scores – either leaning toward power and money, or toward the social scale, but rarely if ever would they score identically on all three.

“I don’t think you will ever rise in this company to the level of plant manager or vice-president,” Dr. Porter told Don. “You don’t have the killer instinct that you would ignore the people and move forward in your own career.”

Don Wiles “Any business is a member of a social system, entitled to the rights and bound by the responsibilities of that membership.

Its freedom to pursue economic goals is constrained by law and channelled by the forces of a free market. But these demands are minimal, requiring only that a business provide wanted goods and services, compete fairly, and cause no obvious harm. For some companies that is enough. It is not enough for Borg-Warner. We impose upon ourselves an obligation to reach beyond the minimal.

We do so, convinced that by making a larger contribution to the society that sustains us, we best assure not only its future vitality, but our own. This is what we believe.

No ‘killer’ instinct

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“We believe: in the dignity of the individual, in our responsibility to the common good, in the endless quest for excellence, in continuous renewal, in the commonwealth of Borg-Warner and its people.”

– Borg-Warner creed

It was early spring, 1981. Don Wiles was in Pittsburgh, cooling his heels in Dr. Dick Porter’s psychological testing firm’s conference room. It was past four in the afternoon and Don had been there since nine that morning, after flying in from Toronto.

He’d gone through Dr. Porter’s rigorous battery of

tests, filled out all the forms and had undergone the lengthy interview process. Don eagerly awaited the results of the exhaustive, daylong session. A month or so earlier, he’d applied for a job as a process engineer at Normar. Getting through Dr. Porter’s process, to a large degree, would determine whether he got the job.

Dr. Porter was right on that score. But Don would fare well in anyone’s estimation when it came to dealing with people. Some of that had to do with his upbringing; some had to do with his family values; and a lot of it had to do with the nearly 10 years he spent as a high-school teacher.

Don was born in Toronto in 1947, and grew up in Scarborough. In 1970 he graduated from the University of Toronto with a degree in chemical engineering.

Jobs for chemical engineers were at a premium in those days, so Don considered himself fortunate to be hired by Goodyear Tire soon after graduation. But, as far as he was concerned, the tire industry didn’t offer a challenging enough future. He left after just three months, returned to school and earned his Bachelor

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Don Wiles.

of Education degree. By September 1971 he was teaching senior chemistry and science at Wexford Collegiate in Scarborough.

There he stayed until the day-to-day monotony of teaching the same material over and over each year finally got to him. He needed a change of pace – and scenery. Shortly before deciding to leave Wexford, Don and his wife Janie bought a small farm where they ran a couple of dozen sows. Janie also was a high-school teacher.

Country life suited the couple. Don transferred to Clarke High School on Highway 35/115, between Newcastle and Peterborough, Ontario. Their farm just happened to be alongside one owned by Normar employees Anne and Tim Russell. When Anne learned of Don’s background as a chemical engineer, she suggested he might be interested in joining BWC. Anne contacted Ernie Everingham, at the time Normar’s engineering manager, and

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a short while later Ernie called Don in for an interview.

After his session in Pittsburgh, on April 1, 1981 Don was hired at Normar as a process engineer, assigned to resin production.

By the early 1980s, resin was very much a going concern at Normar. In comparison with other resin plants – both within and without Borg-Warner Chemicals – Normar’s was small, but highly efficient.

Don described it as a “typical chemical operation … there wasn’t much to see, everything was buttoned down. We had pumps and meters and measuring devices, but most of it was done remotely.”

Resin operators closely monitored the process and, unless a problem developed, the machinery merrily hummed along, pumping out some of the best resin on the continent.

“The operators didn’t have to hit the floor that often,” Don said. “When they looked as if they were sitting around doing nothing, we were making money.

If they were running around like crazy, that’s when we knew we had trouble and weren’t making money.”

Fortunately, that was a rare occurrence, mostly because the resin crew “owned” their operation.

They babied the equipment, ensuring it was regularly maintained. They also took extra steps to modify machinery to improve performance and safety.

Clearing the “throat” One example was a modification they made to the resin dryer. Toward the end of the resin process, the damp, cake-like material was dumped into the dryer where huge motors would draw super-heated air into the unit through a bank of steam tubes. The dryer, a large rotary tube resembling a rocket, picked up the “cake”, tumbled it over and over until it was dry enough to be shot up into the dust collector area before being transported over to the resin silos.

The process worked fine – as long as the condition of the dryer’s throat was carefully monitored and controlled. If resin flowed back into the coil area, the “rocket” would ignite, something that happened

a number of times at the Woodmar facility – but not at Normar. Under the direction of resin supervisor Ron Mitchell, the crew identified the design flaw and redesigned the dryer’s throat to increase the speed of the airflow and prevent powder from building up on the steam coils.

“Ron was the best supervisor I have ever come across in my working career,” Don said. “He was absolutely outstanding. His crew was always the best.”

Ron also was the “go-to” guy when problems cropped up elsewhere in the plant. Before Don’s arrival, Ron had been transferred out of resin into the compounding area, which had been experiencing some production difficulties.

“He was transferred over there with the understanding that’d he be sent back to resin in a year once he’d straightened things out. Well, the very day that year was up, Ron went to the plant manager and said he was returning to resin,” Don said.

When his request was refused, Ron promptly said, “thanks, it’s been nice,” and headed toward the front gate. He didn’t get far before he was called back. The next day he was back in resin.

Normar, Don explained, was Ron’s “playground”.

While he earned a fairly good salary at the plant, Ron was a shrewd investor and entrepreneur, earning perhaps more than four times his salary off the job. He currently owns and operates a counter-top manufacturing company, but in his younger days, he was a talented hockey player and had a shot at playing for the Montreal Canadiens. Bad knees ended that dream, however.

Ron embodied the special qualities shared among a large number of other Normar employees. Whether in management or on the production floor, most adhered to the Borg-Warner “way”. They’d been selected because they were in tune with BWC values.

“The people on the floor were selected very carefully,” Don said. “The plant site was also carefully chosen by Borg-Warner. It was established in a farming community, where they could hire farmers who knew how to work. You’d have very strong farm people with strong work ethics.”

But, Don added, this had its weaknesses as well as its strengths.

“For example, most of the mechanics in the plant were from farming backgrounds. If you needed to get something fixed at three in the morning, those were the guys you called upon. They could get anything to work. But, for a long-term fix, you needed a daytime professional. So, there was a balancing act there.”

Case in point: the resin controls. When Ron first opened up the resin facility’s control panel, he stepped back in disbelief. He was looking at nearly a dozen years of tinkering, retrofitting and jerry-rigging.

“It was an absolute mess,” he said. “There were lines going everywhere. When they put in new stuff, they hadn’t taken out any of the old stuff. It was a nightmare.”

He and technician, later to become technologist, John Reid decided the controls needed serious revamping. Most of the guts of the systems were long out of date. It was clear the resin plant needed to be ushered into the computer age.

The next level Don was among the plant’s information technology pioneers. There were new systems available and, if Don could convince senior management to upgrade, Normar’s resin production system could become the most advanced of its time.

“I knew we could use that technology and take us to the next level,” he said.

Don’s chance came at a management semi-annual review session. He had the backing of plant manager Doug Mathera and other Normar managers, but needed a green light from the manufacturing vice-

president and BWC’s finance department before he could proceed with ordering the new computer equipment. Don had prepared a detailed presentation he hoped would persuade the brass to authorize funding for an automated resin-production control and data gathering, reporting and storage system.

He expected it would be a tough sell. He would be pleasantly surprised.

“I can remember doing the pitch to the vicepresident. Sitting beside him was Mel Hoover. Mel was the VP’s bagman. He carried the money and everybody knew it. At the end of my pitch, the VP turned to Mel and said he didn’t think it would be too difficult to justify the funding. With Mel there I knew we had it.”

The first step was to install an information-gathering system. The Commodore 8032 computer had come on stream in 1980-1981. It offered just 32 kilobytes of RAM, with 80 columns and 25 lines on its tiny screen, but was state-of-the-industry at the time.

“We ran the whole resin facility on Commodores – we had three of them – until we were burning out disk drives at the rate of one every three to six months,” Don said.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 2 9

Even so, news of Normar’s successful entry into the new era of technology spread throughout the organization.

“We were the leaders,” Don said. “It rippled right through the system. A lot of people were coming to look at what we were doing. The guys from the Netherlands (plant) came for a visit and they were quite impressed. Linmar (Ottawa, Illinois) picked it up and ran with it.”

In fact, after GE took over, Linmar received a special award for being one of the most innovative sites. Don Wiles and Ron Mitchell were on hand when the award was presented at a special ceremony in San Diego.

“I remember standing there while they were getting the award and Ron turns to me and says, ‘Well, what do you think about Linmar getting our award?’ I just shrugged and said ‘c’est la vie.’”

Soon after the GE purchase, Don became senior

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technical manager, responsible for quality control and process development. All of the process engineers and engineering students reported to him.

Don took a special interest in the students and younger engineers. He’d often take them along to meetings at various GE sites and, from time to time, he’d send them to those meetings by themselves. That turned out to be his downfall.

“They (management) figured if I was sending the young engineers to the meetings, what did they need me for?”

One-way ticket About a year and a half after the takeover, Don sensed he was at the beginning of the end of his career at Normar. He’d been involved in a particularly sensitive customer relations dispute,

working with Bruce Broberg, at the time GE’s marketing manager and newly appointed plant manager Randy Morris. Randy had been installed in an off-site office just up the road from the plant.

“I got a call from (Morris’s secretary) Barb Harnden and was told to go and meet with Randy. I went out onto the plant floor and spoke with all of my people.

I told them what I was working on, detailed the customer issue, and told them what they had to do and that I was about to go and meet with Randy. They asked me when I’d be back, and I said, ‘I won’t be; this is a one-way ticket.’ They were stunned.”

Don’s meeting with Randy lasted all of 10 minutes.

Then he was sent to meet with the “out-placement” people hired by GE to handle the “de-hiring” process.

“Randy was almost in tears,” Don said. “He was an extremely sensitive individual and really wasn’t

the guy who should’ve been doing the firing. I was the second guy to be released. Roger Pearce was the first.”

Don called Janie at the high school where she taught and broke the news. She was so devastated that she had to go home, to be with Don. News travels fast in a small community. The Wileses’ church minister was among those in town who caught wind of things before most. He also happened to be on the list of people who received press releases.

“Early that evening he showed up at our door.

He’d seen my name on the list and came right over.

He wanted to speak with me before the paper hit the streets. That’s kind of a measure of what the town was like and how people were treated,” Don said. “It was a painful period. I’d put a lot of time into that facility.”

It would be nine months before Don found another job, as general manager at Durabla in Belleville, a company that manufactured a premier line of asbestos gaskets. He lasted there about a year and a half before joining Aclo Compounders in Cambridge, where he served as vice-president of manufacturing. In 1995, Don moved to a company specializing in central vacuum systems, Hayden Industries in Brantford. He served there for five years as the plant’s general manager before becoming an associate dean at Sheridan College’s skilled trades and corporate training department. He left Sheridan in April 2005 and now has a partnership in Bestech Development Inc., specializing in consultation dealing with manufacturing effectiveness, productivity and information technology interfacing.

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Bulk resin being unloaded at GEP Cobourg, 2006.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 3 1

Tough Times Randy Morris

Debbie and Randy Morris, 2005.

Debbie Morris hates the cold, so she wasn’t particularly thrilled when her husband, Randy, broke the news that GE Plastics was transferring them 850 kilometres north to Cobourg. As far as she was concerned, that wasn’t much different than being banished to the North Pole. Randy had just been appointed Normar’s new operations manager. For the previous 12 years, he’d been working at the former Borg-Warner plant in balmy Parkersburg, West Virginia.

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It was mid-February 1989. Randy and Debbie were staying at the Woodlawn Inn while house hunting.

Despite the fact the winter weather was relatively mild by Canadian standards, around -2 C, Debbie was freezing. But she and Randy would soon warm to Normar’s people.

Randy recalls his wife’s chilly introduction to the dead of winter in Canada: “I remember Debbie waking up one morning and looking out the second-floor window of the Woodlawn. She sees these kids iceskating down the sidewalk, on their way to school, and that just freaked her out. ‘What in heck am I doing here?’ she said, almost in tears.”

That evening, the couple joined Randy’s new boss, plant manager Jack Russell and his wife, Pam, for dinner. Debbie just couldn’t stop shivering. Jack and Pam couldn’t help but notice.

“She was just shaking like a leaf,” Randy said.

“She’d gotten so cold that she just couldn’t seem to get warm,” Randy said. “So, Jack and Pam took her home, and Jack gave her a toque and his big, heavy hockey socks. When she went to bed that night she was covered from head to toe.”

While Debbie never would fully adjust to Canada’s winters, the warmth shown to her family

by Normar employees was something that she, Randy and their daughter, Sheri, would treasure forever.

These were difficult times at Normar. The plant was in the midst of wide-sweeping change as it underwent its metamorphosis from Borg-Warner to General Electric. There was a general sense of uncertainty and unease, tinged with apprehension.

No one was exactly sure what the future would hold. Randy was aware of the situation and had been counselled by Jack Russell, with whom he’d worked during Jack’s stint at Parkersburg. Randy knew everything wouldn’t necessarily be all

Randy with pals.

sweetness and light. But he had a job to do, and was determined to do it well. His route to Normar was a combination of good planning and being at the right place at the right time. Born in 1955 in Bucyrus, Ohio, about an hour’s drive north of Columbus, Randy followed his father’s path into the chemical industry.

His father, Ron, worked for nearly 40 years at Swan Rubber Company44, a major manufacturer of domestic and industrial hoses. Ron died in 1988.

After attending public and high school in Bucyrus, Randy earned his chemical engineering degree from Ohio University in Athens, Ohio, in 1977. The U.S. chemical industry was booming at the time and, even before graduation, Randy had offers for lucrative positions at seven or eight major firms, including Diamond Shamrock45, B.F. Goodrich46, Dow Chemical Company and BorgWarner Chemicals.

“Believe it or not, despite the cold climate, Dow, in Midland, Michigan (200 kilometres north of Windsor, Ontario, incidentally), would have been my wife’s first choice. Her last choice probably would have been Borg-Warner in Parkersburg. But that’s where we ended up.”

Love affair Randy was instantly taken by Borg’s culture, and the way it treated its people. “I fell in love with Borg right away during the interview process and, once I joined the company, I loved it even more.”

While up-and-coming employees were expected to deliver under pressure against tight deadlines, much as they would at any other major business during the heady days of the late ’70’s and early ’80s, things were different at BWC. “You were still driven to accomplish goals and meet targets,” he said. “But you did it because you wanted to, not because you were afraid to get fired if you didn’t perform. You didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Randy started as a process development engineer in Borg’s environmental technology department and then, two years later, moved to work in resin polymerization. After serving for a couple of years as energy manager, in 1983 he was appointed to his first real management post, as colour control manager in the colour lab. The colour lab was considered by senior management to be something of a hotbed for union activity.

While all of BWC’s operations were non-union, there were those in the lab who occasionally would voice support for unionization – without success.

“There were a few union supporters in the colour lab. When I was there, though, it must have been a slow time for union activity. I found the people there were just terrific and we really didn’t have any issues when it came to union activity. It was a great job.” His next big step came with his appointment as latex polymerization manager, which included responsibility for manufacturing, the tank farm and maintenance. Randy sensed this appointment was something of a proving ground; that he was being primed for even higher postings. His role was much like that of a plant manager.

The latex job taught Randy some important lessons – the most important one being safety. The

latex operation’s polymerization process involved working with some fairly volatile and dangerous chemicals. The slightest leak from a valve, pipe or gasket could spell disaster.

“I remember the plant manager sitting me down when he offered me the job. He took me through some details about a big explosion Borg had had in Europe. He made it very clear to me that you can screw up in a lot of areas, but you can’t screw up in safety.” Randy honed his management skills at the latex plant and set his sights on becoming the next Cycolac polymerization manager, a position that had been held by Jack Russell.

“When Jack left, I was hoping that’s where I’d go next, but I didn’t. Fred Shinners, who was then VP of operations, called me and said he knew I was disappointed in not getting that opportunity. But he said they had something else in mind for me, and just be patient.”

In mid-1987, Shinners called again and made good on his promise. Randy was to become manager of a new compounding plant to be built in Shelbyville, Kentucky, about 50 kilometres east of Louisville. “I told Fred that I’d never worked in compounding, but he said, ‘Randy, we’ve got you covered. We’re going to get you a very experienced compounding technology guy, but we want you to lead the project.’ I thought how many times do you get a chance to be at the right place at the right time to build a new plant? This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I jumped at it.”

For the next few months, Randy worked with BWC’s central engineering group to plan the new facility. While he’d bought a new home in Shelbyville early in 1988 so that his daughter could start school there, Randy spent most of his time with the engineering group back in Parkersburg. He finally moved to Shelbyville about six months after purchasing the home.

Our gift is your song Working with the town, Randy organized a huge groundbreaking ceremony. Borg-Warner flew in its top executives. Shelbyville’s mayor and councillors, the governor of Kentucky and about 500 guests were at the ceremony. “Borg-Warner had a tradition when they built a new plant. They would give a gift to the community,” Randy said. The gift was a song, “Sing Out, Shelbyville,” composed by country-and-blue-grass legend Harold Thom, and performed by his band, “The Cumberlands”. The song was performed live at a VIP dinner the night before the groundbreaking, and audio cassettes were distributed to all who attended the ceremony

The Cumberlands.

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plant manager. Six months later, he became plant manager. This would prove to be Randy’s most difficult assignment.

At the time, Normar, with about 180 employees, was among the most productive and profitable operations within the former BWC network. It also was among the safest. Its resin plant was the best in the system. Early in 1991, however, it was decided Normar should be closed down, and Randy was charged with the unfortunate duty of doing the dirty deed.

We fought so hard Debbie Morris and her “clients”.

the next day. The song was a huge hit. A local radio station played it each morning. Shelbyville was excited about the new BWC plant.

During the next nine months, construction moved along at a good pace. The building was up, the rail spur had been installed and most of the new equipment was on site, ready for installation. Randy and his compounding technologist, Ed Anderson, had set up offices to begin the hiring process.

Then the axe fell. GE decided it didn’t need a new plant in Kentucky. “I went to the mayor and all the local officials and told them what had happened.

The thing was, they didn’t seem all that surprised.

It was as if they had expected it,” Randy said. “I was personally so disappointed. Here was this once-in-alifetime chance and it’s not going to happen.”

Randy spent the next few months decommissioning the spanking-new plant. As the equipment was being divvied up among GE’s other facilities, including Normar, in early 1990 Randy got a call from Jim Chapman, the director of operations, who offered Randy the operations manager’s job at Normar, reporting to Jack Russell. When Jack left the company, Randy was appointed interim

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“Those were the toughest two years of my life,” he said. “I was basically asked to shut the plant down but we kept coming up with new ideas and alternatives. We fought so hard.” Randy would visit Pittsfield, Massachusetts, GE’s world headquarters, trying to sell his ideas on how to keep Normar alive.

“We tried to sell them on a single-pigment dispersion operation. We tried to sell them on smalllot compounding. We’d put all the numbers together and crunched everything and I’d keep going back to Pittsfield. But they’d keep sending me back. I kept fighting and arguing and finally they sat me down and said, ‘Randy, it’s over. Stop it. The fight is over.

The decision is made. Go to it.’”

However, trying to switch from battling to keep Normar open to shutting it down was something that just wasn’t in Randy’s make-up. “There were a lot of days that I didn’t turn that corner very well. I kept trying to go back.”

Eventually, though, it came time for Randy to let go. “We closed polymerization; the resin plant was closed in ’92; and we significantly downsized compounding. We ended up cutting the workforce almost in half. It was awful. I’d made so many

friends at the plant. Now, all of a sudden, I’ve got to have termination discussions with people I considered to be good friends.”

Through it all, however, Normar’s employees seemed to understand just how gut-wrenching a situation it was for Randy. “The people were great to me,” he said, “and, in a lot of ways, that made it even harder. I spent a lot of tearful evenings. Debbie was so supportive.”

Randy would break the news to one employee after another. Barb Harnden, his secretary, would wait outside and then, after the latest “de-hired” employee had left, she’d go into Randy’s office.

“She’d say, ‘Are you all right, Randy?’ I’d ask her to give me five minutes and then she’d come back in and give me a big hug. She got me through a lot of very tough days.” Barb and Al Harnden remain two of Debbie and Randy’s closest friends.

Randy left Normar in 1993 and, for a time, worked as a materials and logistics manager with his old boss, Fred Shinners at GE Silicones in Waterford, New York. Then, in 1995, Randy left GE for good and joined M.A. Hanna (now Geon) in Atlanta, where he linked up with another Normar legend, Bill Patient.

When Hanna decided to consolidate and move to Cleveland, Randy stayed behind in Atlanta, where Debbie had started a dog boarding and training business, called Canine Complex. Today, Randy works for Debbie. The company is doing exceptionally well, with more than 850 clients a year.

“She’s the boss and calls all the shots. Heck, she’s even fired me a couple of times.”

Darkest days Tuesday, February 25, 1992. It’s a date etched in the minds of many long-serving Normar employees.

“Black Tuesday,” some called it, the day when GE Plastics Canada announced it was cutting Normar’s workforce in half. It’s been more than 13 years since the announcement but even those who survived the cut still harbour some bitterness. Others have turned

the page, and for those hired after the takeover, the event was part of someone else’s history.

“Poor business conditions, sluggish demand and excess capacity” were the official reasons for the downsizing. On that Tuesday, 25 employees got their walking papers. Another 45 would receive their termination notices during the next three months.

The plant’s workforce would drop to 75 from 145.

In its 26 years of operation, Normar had only one other period of significant staff cuts. Six employees were laid off in 1970 when the plant had a complement of about 150 workers. Those cut were “utility people” who filled in when required in various production roles and had been with the company for less than 18 months. The 1992 cuts went much deeper into the organization, affecting all levels and all departments.

The affected employees were paid full salaries and benefits for 13 weeks, as well as one week’s severance pay for each year they served at the plant.

At the time, labour legislation required employers to give workers a minimum of eight weeks’ notice when jobs were to be eliminated. However, GE chose to lay them off immediately and continued to pay them for five weeks more than the eight-week minimum.

“We’re not asking them to work through the notification period,” plant manager Randy Morris told the Cobourg Daily Star the day after employees were told of the cuts. “It allows them to start their job search now.”

The employees, he said, were not to blame for the downsizing. “The Canadian market has gotten very soft. We’ve got a level of capacity that’s too high. (The employees) have done nothing but improve productivity. They have a great safety record. Every measure of productivity is improving.” GE set up a career centre in Cobourg to assist the employees, using an agency to offer counselling in job-search and interview skills, as well as help in financial planning. “Often we count on people to find their own way,” said human resources manager Barb Acorn. “We know the

environment is not the best out there. We hope it will give them the edge.”

There was no guarantee at the time that Normar would remain in operation. “Right now there is a commitment to serve the Canadian market from Cobourg,” Randy Morris said. “It will depend on our ability to perform. If we can rebound, I think we can be successful. Our objective is to try to grow it back to what it was.”

In reality, however, one of GE’s original options was to shut down Normar entirely. Few knew how

close the plant came to being closed. Randy Morris initially was charged with that responsibility. Then came Joe Bleull, who was seen by many as GE’s official “axe-man”.

In fact, while he was hardnosed when it came to running a business, Joe was the one who ultimately saved Normar from extinction. Like imported managers in the past, he soon learned there was something special about Normar and its people.

He convinced senior GE management to keep the plant alive.

General Electric annual report covers.

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Back from the Brink Joe Bleull

It was late in the summer of 1993 and newly appointed plant manager Joe Bleull was standing alongside veteran Normar employees Ken Ellis, Ron Mitchell and Des Barry. The four of them were staring silently at a hole in the floor in the extrusion area. It was where the plant’s pride and joy, its 92millimetre, twin-screw G-Line extruder, once sat.

Outside, a tractor-trailer was rumbling up Normar Road, carrying the machine off to be shipped to GE’s Grangemouth plant in Scotland.

“We almost wanted to cry,” Joe said. “It was like cutting our heart out.”

The directive to remove the extruder had come from Jeff Immelt47, then vice-president of GE Americas, who in 2001 would replace Jack Welch as GE’s chairman and CEO. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about the extruder, but

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to those who’d kept it running through Normar’s toughest days, it was much more than just another piece of equipment. What was extraordinary was what happened next.

Normar was still smarting from the massive job cuts and the closure of the resin plant of the previous year. Its workforce was down to about 70 people. The plant had lost $10 million (US) in 1992.

But rather than allow a dark cloud to hang over their heads, Normar’s employees shrugged off the doom and gloom and set about proving, once again, their resilience.

From 1993 through 1994, their performance was nothing short of remarkable. In less than a year, they turned the $10-million loss into a $15-million profit – an astounding, $25-million turnaround. They just couldn’t understand why they didn’t seem to be getting support from head office. Yanking the twinscrew extruder didn’t make any sense to them. Had they not proven themselves? Des Barry smiled slyly and turned to Joe. “You know what?” he said, “I’ve got enough parts, I think I could build an extruder.”

Wayne Broadworth strolled in and the group started putting the pieces back together …

Jeff Immelt, GE executive.

Grangemar, Scotland.

“We have a spare barrel and a spare screw.”

“We could come up with a motor.”

“We could re-do a gearbox.”

Bit by bit, the plan came together and, just three weeks later, they had a replacement extruder humming along quite nicely. It wasn’t fancy – just a single-screw unit – but this jerry-rigged machine probably meant as much or more to the team than did the one on its way to Scotland.

They were going to win “You just couldn’t beat those people,” Joe recently said from his office in Reston, Virginia. “It didn’t matter what was done to them, they were going to win. From that low point when we were running just one and a half extruders a week, just look at them now, they’re up to 18 extruders. “The last time I was back for a visit, I was just so proud walking through the plant and seeing everything they’ve done. They’ve taken it far beyond what I could even imagine back then.”

Ten years earlier, Joe had begun a steady rise up the ranks at Linmar when it was still owned by Borg-Warner. Born in Peru, Illinois, in 1960, Joe seemed almost predestined to go into the plastics business. His father, Bob, had worked for 32 years as a mechanic at B.F. Goodrich. During the summers while attending the University of Illinois, Joe worked at a PVC plant. He earned his chemical engineering degree in 1983.

Being close to home was an added benefit for his wife, Judy. She and Joe had married while Joe was still in university.

After serving as a chemical engineer and a process engineer at Linmar’s resin plant, Joe went into operations management, which was his route to a plant management position. Three or four months before being assigned to Normar, Joe had been short-listed for the job of plant manager at Calmar, in Oxnard, California.

“Then somebody came in from headquarters with a GE background and they gave it to her. My wife wasn’t too keen on going to California and Cobourg sounded a whole lot nicer to us than living in the L.A. area.”

Thorough scrutiny When Joe arrived at Normar in March 1993, he was scrutinized thoroughly by a group of employees led by personnel manager Barb Acorn. “Barbara sat

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“I really enjoyed it (the plastics industry) and I was kind of following in my father’s footsteps,” he said. In his final year at university, he was recruited on campus by Borg-Warner. He’d had interviews for positions with Monsanto in St. Louis, Missouri and Pensacola, Florida, but was instantly smitten by BWC during his interview with Robert Murphy, from personnel in Parkersburg.

“What really sold me on the company were the people. I’d had several good interviews and opportunities, but nothing like the quality of people who interviewed me at Borg-Warner,” Joe said. “How many people can remember the name of the guy that interviewed them on campus? Robert Murphy: I’ll never forget him. He was very sincere, very caring of people. The guy probably knew the name of every person he ever hired.”

Borg-Warner had a number of positions in various locations available to Joe, but he chose Linmar, where he started work in 1983. The Ottawa plant was just 70 kilometres from where he’d grown up.

me in a chair in the middle of the finishing break room with a whole group of people sitting around me. Barb told me they wanted to ask me a few questions. They went at me for about an hour and asked a lot of good questions.”

Many of Normar’s employees still harboured bitterness toward the GE takeover, especially after the resin plant was shut down. Some believed Joe’s job would be to turn out the lights and lock the gate. While closing the plant may have been one of GE’s options, Joe wanted to make it the last possible choice – something few people realized at the time. “Joe ran a tight ship,” Barb Acorn said. “If he hadn’t spent his two years in Canada practically killing himself – and perhaps us, too – to help the Cobourg site survive, there wouldn’t have been a plant today. He had one goal in mind and that was to keep the plant viable and in business. He was an exceptional leader, in exceptional times. We owe him a huge debt of gratitude.”

Joe was all too aware of the malaise at the plant.

There’d been considerable uncertainty at the Ottawa plant during the lengthy on-again, offagain takeover process. “I wasn’t happy. Most of us weren’t. Our parent company had gotten into trouble and was pretty bullheaded about (earlier) takeover attempts. They swallowed a poison pill and did a leveraged buy-out, then got themselves deeply into debt at a time when interest rates were extremely high. They had to sell off all their jewels,” Joe said.

At Linmar, however, the eventual purchase by GE was considered a positive move. And, as far as Joe was concerned, GE’s approach to doing business was more direct and decisive. “The Ottawa plant was starved for capital, so we saw it (the purchase) somewhat naively, I guess, as a big opportunity. And some things were better about GE. You knew where you stood and I honestly liked that. Sometimes Borg-Warner would let things go far too long before addressing them.”

At Woodmar, however, the atmosphere was completely different. Employees, especially Ken Ellis alongside NC production unit, 2006.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 37

those in senior management, realized early on that Parkersburg’s role as head office would soon become a thing of the past. So, by the time Joe was transferred to Cobourg, he had a clear understanding of what lay ahead. But he adamantly denied that GE had dispatched him to shut down Normar. “When I accepted the role as plant manager, I was warned that shutting down the plant was a strong possibility, but I would never have taken the job if those had been the marching orders,” he said. “I knew the threat was in front of us. Our job was to figure a way to keep it open.”

It wouldn’t be a simple task, and Joe knew it.

He’d visited the Cobourg plant a few times, and a number of Normar’s people had been down to the Ottawa plant on a fairly frequent basis. Normar and Linmar were sister plants, although the Illinois plant was about three times the size of Normar.

“When I first visited Normar in June of 1984, I was impressed from day one,” Joe said. “It was clean, the people were extremely friendly and creative. Their performance and ingenuity completely blew away anything anybody else had done.”

Normar had become a “best-practices” plant.

Its production techniques, warehousing, quality control measures, safety performance and overall “can-do” attitude were topics of study for the other BWC plants. “I stole their ideas,” Joe said. “I copied them right away. They had so much ingenuity and creativity. It was amazing how they could get a lot done without a lot of money.”

One example was how Normar’s people had developed a method in their coagulation process to develop a much harder particle and whiter particle, with a significant increase in throughput. “They took what Parkersburg and Ottawa were doing and made it 30-per-cent better. The operators and technicians owned that plant.”

When his appointment to Cobourg came through in 1993, Joe knew he’d be facing some difficult times. But he also knew he couldn’t have asked for a better crew to help weather the storm. As

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it turned out, however, things would get worse before they got better.

Four months into his new post in Cobourg, Joe was summoned to Parkersburg for a meeting with the head of the Cycolac business.

Clawing to get by “I sat for two hours waiting for him because he was late, and then he called me into his office and said, ‘Joe, I wanted to tell you this in person. Over the next year and a half, we’re going to take 75 per cent of the business you have away from you, and you’re on your own. I’ve got another meeting and I have to go.’ And that was it,” Joe said. “He made me fly all the way down there, wait two hours and then spent all of 10 minutes with me to tell me he’s taking away 75 per cent of our business.”

Joe was flabbergasted. Normar ended up running just one and a half extruders a week. “We were just clawing to get by,” Joe said. Something had to be done. The Cobourg plant’s employees and managers had a long tradition of putting their heads together to solve problems. Joe assembled his leadership team – a diverse group of about 18 employees – representing both supervisory and line personnel.

“OK, what can we do about this?” Joe asked the group. “What can we do well? What can we do with extrusion? What can we do with the sheet plant?” The short answer to all three questions was “service”.

“One thing that was obvious was that at Normar we were very good at service. We were the best.

No one was even close to us on the service side of things. And no one else came close to our ability to do colour and custom small lots. We made the decision that we were not going to buckle. We were going to find a new business strategy.”

The team examined Normar’s business from every angle. They went after new business, checking out opportunities locally. They did their own marketing.

It was just like old times. Everybody stepped up to the plate.

“I’ll never forget the dedication,” Joe said. “For example, Ken Ellis did 44 new product trials in our plant in one year. He hardly ever went home. It was amazing. Ken had a little bookshelf in his office and had a little sample vial of every new product that he ran. And, of those, I think we sold five or six of them. Ken’s efforts and similar dedication by people across the site are a very big part of why that plant is still there.”

That was the year Normar rocketed from the $10million loss to being in the black by $15 million. “We did a lot together. It was nothing magical, just a lot of hard work, a lot of creativity and never backing off or giving up, and that’s just the way we were. It was a joy to work there, it really was,” Joe said.

Then, almost as suddenly as it began, in 1996 Joe’s job at Normar was over. “Jeff Immelt gave me a call and said, ‘Joe, I need you to go to Indiana. You start a week from Monday.’ I said I didn’t want to leave. I really thought we needed another couple of years to solidify the future, but I had no choice.”

Joe was appointed plant manager leader for GE’s Crystalline Polymers. In 1998, he was promoted to business leader, High Performance Polymers, and a year later to business leader, Engineered Styrenics Resins, with responsibility for the $650-million North and South American operations including sales, marketing, technology, sourcing and logistics, with four manufacturing sites and 1,200 staff. In 2001, Global Styrenics was added to his portfolio.

Joe left GE in 2003 as part of a GE Plastics management restructuring. Today he’s executive vice-president of land and building products for NVR Incorporated, a homebuilder based in the Washington, D.C. area. While he loves his new career, he still looks at his three years at Normar as “the best job I’ve ever had.”

Joe and Judy currently live in Leesburg, Virginia, a small community about 70 kilometres northwest of Washington, D.C. Joe and Judy’s twins, Christa and Danielle are 18. Samantha is 14 and Ryan, their Canadian-born son, is 11.

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Darlene Bunn, R.N.

Darlene Bunn is sitting in her office, reflecting on her nearly 15 years as GE Plastics Cobourg’s occupational health nurse. “I never thought I’d end up here,” she said. “It was actually a bit of a fluke.” It was also something of a homecoming. Her father, the late John Davis, had been a compounding chemical operator at Normar, starting in 1968. He retired from the plant in 1980 and died in August 2000.

As was the case with scores of Normar employees’ children, Darlene had spent a couple of summers working at the plant, as had her brothers, Don and Jack. Darlene’s daughter, Jennifer, spent three summers working in lubrication and her son, Justin, worked in finishing for one summer. “I worked as an inventory control clerk, with Bill Usborne, when he was in traffic. I replaced Diane McVety one summer and Karen Shewen the following summer.”

Her summer employment in 1973 and 1974 helped put her through nursing school. She was part of Sir Sandford Fleming College’s first graduating class in nursing when she was presented with her diploma in 1975.

Darlene, born in Cobourg and raised in Colborne, assumed at graduation her career would be spent working in a hospital and, for five years at least, that turned out to be the case. She started at Trenton Memorial Hospital, serving in obstetrics for two years, then for almost a year in surgical services and then for another two and a half years in the hospital’s intensive care and emergency units. She also worked part-time in an internist’s office, mostly performing cardiac stress tests. This led to a new, fiveyear career, beginning in 1984 as “factory nurse” at the once-thriving Nestlé-Stouffer’s48 plant in Trenton, 56 kilometres east of Cobourg.

Occupational nursing was a new field for Darlene, but she learned as she went along. Those were busy times. In its heyday, the Nestlé-Stouffer’s facility had about 350 employees. Then things took a turn for the worse and, in 1989, the plant was hit with massive staff cuts. “The business really took a big downturn and Trenton was hit very badly,” she said. “The plant went down to about 40 people

and, obviously, they didn’t need a (full-time) nurse anymore.”

While she’d been offered a contract position with Nestlé, Darlene decided instead to launch out on her own and started a business in occupational health.

For the next two years she worked on a contract basis with a number of firms – logging about four hours a day, two days a week. In 1990 she earned her occupational health nursing certification. Then, in 1991, her brother-in-law gave her a call. He’d spotted an ad in the Cobourg Daily Star. GE Plastics was in the market for a plant nurse. “General Electric in Cobourg really didn’t ring a bell with me,” she said, “but when he explained to me where the plant was, I said ‘gee-whiz, that’s Borg-Warner!’ I hadn’t realized they’d been taken over by GE.” She sent off her résumé and business information and, on May 4, 1991, was hired as a contract occupational health nurse, working two-and-a-half days a week out of a leased office in the nearby Lucas Point industrial mall on Willmott Street.

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Full Circle

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 39

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Darlene Bunn with Greg Daniels, 2005.

“My initial role was to look after medical surveillance, including doing hearing tests, vision screenings and electrocardiograms, as well as co-ordinating all of the paperwork necessary to prepare employees for assessments by the physician, who also was on contract,” she said.

Medical surveillance work had always been an important part of Borg-Warner’s overall health and safety program, particularly during the time when pigments contained lead and cadmium. Employees were regularly screened and, over the more than 20 years while Normar had been operated by BWC, a fairly comprehensive database of medical screening statistics had been amassed, all of which eventually were turned over to GE. General Electric’s health and wellness programs are among the most advanced in the industry, administered through the company’s corporate headquarters in Fairfield, Connecticut. A wide variety of services – both optional and mandatory – are available to employees.

While screening for lead and cadmium no longer is mandatory since the additives now are no longer used, health screening is still offered at Normar, along with the mandatory annual hearing tests for those employees working in designated noise areas. Those who wear cartridge respirators are required to have an annual fit-test and to fill out questionnaires to ensure it’s safe for them to use respirators, based on their

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health history.

Emergency response team members each year must undergo a much more intensive health screening, much like the original tests done in BorgWarner days.

In 1992, Darlene’s office was moved into the Darlene’s father, the late John Davis, heart of the worked as a chemical operator at Normar. plant. It was a move she had encouraged, believing that to do her job effectively she needed to be in day-to-day contact with the employees she served.

“If you’re going to do work in occupational health, you need to know what people do; you need to know how the machines work, and what kind of exposures there are,” she explained. Two years later she moved to her current location in the south end of the administration building.

Aside from health screening, much of Darlene’s time is spent developing and implementing various prevention, fitness and wellness programs such as nutrition and smoking cessation efforts. Industrial accidents are rare at Normar. The plant has always enjoyed a stellar safety record, thanks in large part to positive employee attitudes and accident prevention and training programs, all solidly supported by GE’s senior management. Education and prevention are the two key cornerstones of Normar’s overall health and safety program.

As is the case with most companies today, there’s strong emphasis on programs designed to improve employee awareness about nutrition, fitness and

substance abuse. Stress issues also are a major focus of the plant’s healthy workplace committee, co-chaired by Darlene.

“We’re seeing the things that most businesses are seeing, and those are the mental health issues associated with raising families and shift work – relationship issues,” she said. “We also concentrate on initiatives that will help improve health in the workplace, focusing on the things that we know are issues, such as physical inactivity, smoking and healthy eating – those are the three key focuses for all of our projects.”

Darlene works closely with the region’s Heart Health Coalition and is a member of the steering committee for Health for Life, a program of the Haliburton, Kawartha and Pine Ridge Health Unit. This relationship helps link workplace health and safety with various programs in and around Cobourg.

GE Plastics is among the most active companies in the region and has received important, province-wide recognition for its workplace promotional activities, participation and fundraising efforts.

A walk in the park While most employees today recognize the value of the various wellness programs offered through the healthy workplace committee, at the outset a few required some gentle nudging to get involved. “In the earlier years, we were getting a low percentage of participation, but every program that we’ve put together has gradually increased in popularity,” Darlene said. “Our ‘SummerActive49’ Poker Walk is probably the best example. Teams compete by picking up playing cards at the end of the 20-minute walk.

The team with the best poker hand wins the event.

The first year, we allowed everybody to take time off to go for a walk in the park. The day staff participated, but the hourly staff didn’t really latch onto it, and we learned that we really had to reach out to the hourly people to make sure that they were included.”

The organizing committee sweetened the pot by offering free healthy breakfasts to the workplace crews

A Tradition of Service Diane Saunders

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with participation rates of 80 per cent or better. “After that, every team leader ensured we had 80 per cent or more. We then raised the bar to 85 per cent. Today, we get almost 100 per cent on most of the crews.”

As a result, SummerActive awarded Normar a special plaque for the highest participation of any small workforce in the province.

The plant’s healthy workplace committee meets every Friday and includes representation from each of Normar’s various work groups and shifts, as well as site leader Steve Rosa and the human resources department. “I couldn’t ask for more support than what I’ve been getting,” Darlene said. “We have great respect for the opinions and input from the people who are actually using the machinery. We don’t move ahead without getting their opinions.”

The committee’s efforts have received important recognition beyond the workplace, adding an even greater incentive for employee participation.

Normar received the community’s first-ever healthy workplace award. “When we started getting recognition, we started to see the benefits within the workplace. Not only was the community recognizing us, but we also received attention from GE in Pittsfield and the medical people in Fairfield. They saw the sorts of benefits we were getting and were quite impressed.”

In addition to her certification in Ontario, Darlene also is a Certified Occupational Health Nurse, Specialist (U.S.) and holds a bachelor’s degree in health sciences (nursing) from Charles Sturt University in New South Wales, Australia, and a diploma in occupational health nursing from St. Lawrence College. In 2003, she received the Health is a Community Affair Award from the Ontario Public Health Association, and later the 2004 GE ONES Excellence in Occupational Health Award.

Darlene’s husband, Michael, works as an operations analyst at Coveright Surfaces, across the road from GE Plastics. Their 25-year-old daughter, Jennifer, recently graduated from Trent University, and their son, Justin, 22, is a guitarist with the Toronto rock band See Spot Run.

When corporate cultures combine – or clash – continuity counts. At GEP Cobourg, human resources specialist Diane Saunders is one of a handful of current employees who perhaps best represent the plant’s continuum.

To understand her role today, we have to step back almost two decades to the tumultuous period that led to BWC’s purchase by GE. There were some employees at Normar, particularly those with long service records, who could not easily bid farewell to their beloved Borg-Warner and wholeheartedly

welcome General Electric, formerly a competitor.

It would be a tough sell to bring Normar’s “old guard” around to the realization that GE’s takeover was, in fact, the plant’s salvation. While this may not have been a prevailing attitude among production employees, it certainly was evident among those in Normar’s finance, middle management, customer service and sales groups – those who would be most vulnerable in GE’s realignment and rationalization process, which began in 1989 and continued through 1992. GE already had its own regional sales and finance departments. Normar’s would become redundant – and the first to go.

A graduate of the Ontario Business College’s business administration and secretarial program, Diane had been with the plant for 10 years by the time the GE purchase had been finalized. She’d originally joined in December 1978 in an entrylevel position as a temporary customer service representative, reporting to area manager Gord Earl.

Hers was an excellent training ground, providing her with direct exposure to Normar’s expanding customer base. She got to know most of the customers’ representatives on a first-name basis.

Companies served by Normar at the time included Lego, Samsonite, Rockwell International, Progressive Moulded Plastics, Mitchell Plastics, Midland Plastics and, of course, Custom Plastics International, as well as BWC’s premier revenue-providers, Northern Electric and the big automakers – GM, Ford and Chrysler.

Diane also had the benefit of working with a Marbon pioneer, Bruce Broberg, BWC’s Torontobased general manager of sales. Through Bruce, along with sales managers Bob Gemmill and Gary Farris, Diane was able to gain a thorough

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understanding of the entire BWC marketing and sales operation – and the company’s culture beyond Normar.

In 1980 it was decided the temporary customer service position would be elevated to a permanent post. Ann Closs, formerly with Normar’s finance department, replaced Diane, and Diane, at age 20, took over Ann’s administrative support duties in finance, reporting to controller Ron Sargent – Step #2 in Diane’s steadily progressing learning curve.

“It was a fairly big department – 10 people in a small space. Everybody tried to help one another,” she said. “That’s the way it was at Borg-Warner. It was like a big family and we had a lot of fun.”

Diane became active in the plant’s employee activity club, helping with Normar’s newsletter, organizing special events, family-day picnics, retirements and, most important, community activities. Since Diane is very much a people person – she cares about her family, her co-workers,

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attended the two-day event.

On hand from GE were Jeff Immelt, vice-president and general manager, GE Plastics Americas; Bob Mozgala, vice-president Bob Gemmill. and general manager, GE Americas Manufacturing; Charlie Crew, vice-president and general manager, field commercial operations; and Marc Chini, human resources manager. The festivities included plant tours, product displays and evening “family time” barbecue. The event was a huge success and was reminiscent of the good times employees and their families enjoyed during the Borg-Warner days.

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Ron Sargent, 2005.

her community and her company’s image in the community– it was almost a foregone conclusion that she’d eventually end up working in human resources. After 10 years in finance, she became an HR specialist, just as the plant was about to go through a period of major downsizing.

“This site was never known for laying off people,” she said. “They always tried to keep people working.

We knew there was something in the air (about staff cuts) but we didn’t realize the severity of it.”

Being in HR meant she was privy to information concerning who would stay and who would leave.

She also became involved in the “de-hiring” process, something that struck right at the heart of her being. “It was devastating for the people and it was devastating for me. I was related to some of these people – my brother-in-law, my husband – but I couldn’t show any emotion. I couldn’t take it home; I just had to keep it all inside. I felt awful for years.”

Fully 50 per cent of Normar’s employees were let go. Naturally, the plant’s atmosphere didn’t lend itself to family-day picnics or other special employee events. But, over time, and with the concerted efforts of Diane and many others, gradually things improved. Business picked up and people began to adjust to the new structure.

GE encouraged employees to become involved with community activities and to take advantage of self-help and training programs. “They’ve always encouraged us to grow and develop,” Diane said.

“So, I decided to go to night school and get my degree in human resources management.”

Diane continued her involvement in community events and fundraising programs, serving as a volunteer with the United Way, YMCA, the Canadian Cancer Society and Junior Achievement. In 1996 she led a committee, which included Susan Groves and Glen Partridge, to plan festivities marking the Cobourg plant’s 30th anniversary. More than 500 guests, including Cobourg mayor John Chalovich, Doug Galt, MPP for Northumberland, Christine Stewart, MP for Northumberland and Fred Holloway, Hamilton Township’s deputy reeve,

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 43

Small Orders in a Big Order Game

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Steve Rosa

Ferdinando “Nani” Beccalli-Falco50 is aboard General Electric’s corporate jet as it touches down in Peterborough. It’s mid-summer, 1996 and Nani, at the time GE Plastics’ vice-president and general manager, Americas, is on his way to GE Plastics in Cobourg to make a decision. It would be the most important decision in the plant’s 30-year history.

Nani settles into plant manager Tom Bouchard’s car for the 45-minute trip to Cobourg. Earlier that morning, Tom was scrambling to put the finishing touches on a PowerPoint presentation. He’s been

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working on it for weeks in anticipation of Nani’s visit.

It’s nothing overly elaborate. The presentation has but four main components – the trademark “Four-Block” style used in meetings countless times across GE’s giant international empire.

Operations leader Steve Rosa, hired earlier in the year, couldn’t quite grasp why Tom had been agonizing over the presentation.

“He was spending a disproportionate amount of time putting it together,” Steve said. “I questioned him on it and he said, ‘Well, Steve, these blocks have to say the right things.’”

Tom walked him through it: “I’m going to present this block, and then I’m going to present this one and, when I get to this point on this block, that’s when Nani is going to have the idea that all of GE Plastics’ small lots should be manufactured here.

“Nani’s coming here to make his final call as to whether we should exist. This may be his first trip here, but it also may be his last,” Tom said.

Steve’s eyes widened. He was beginning to catch on.

This was important stuff.

Finally, Nani arrives and Tom immediately ushers him into the conference room in the admin building.

Tom’s ready. Steve and other members of the plant’s management team take their places around the large conference table.

“I could sense there was nervousness in the air. The room was very tense,” Steve said. “But Tom seemed so laid back. He was standing there, a cup of coffee in one hand and his other hand in his pocket as he began the presentation. He’s on the third block when Nani, in his deep Italian voice, says ‘Tom, stop. I think you should be making all of the Americas’ small lots here in Cobourg.’

Defining moment “Tom glanced over at me and gave me a wink. That moment redefined who we were. Then, as Nani was climbing into Tom’s car, he said, ‘Tom, you have a very nice plant.’ Then they were gone.”

Preparation for that tide-turning meeting actually began four years earlier – in 1992, the worst year in Normar’s history. GE had acquired Borg-Warner Tom Bouchard.

Chemicals in 1988 and took over operation of Normar early in 1989.

During the next three years GE went through a massive, global rationalization. Normar’s chemical operations – the resin plant and related facilities – were shut down. The workforce was slashed in half. Many of those who remained believed it would only be a matter of time before the entire site was bulldozed. Although the plant survived, painful memories still linger.

Steve Rosa presents customs specialist Karen Shewen (Bovaird) with a long-service award.

that GE Plastics Cobourg still had plenty to offer.

They were still producing ABS, considered the finest in North America. But there were four other large GE Plastics facilities in North America doing the same thing.

“We had a great process and made fantastic, high-quality ABS. But our equipment was small and the financials didn’t appear viable for the long term,” Steve said.

Normar had already concentrated its efforts on producing small lots of ABS and was making considerable headway. But, even so, at the time the plant was out of sync with GE’s overall approach to the plastics business.

“GE had decided they no longer wanted to play in the less-than-two-tonne marketplace. But some folks (in Cobourg) figured out a way to continue to serve the small-order market. They’d manufacture small orders, put them in 55-pound distribution bags and market them through Polymerland51, owned by GE and located in West Virginia, with sales people right across North America.”

Though this ran counter to GE’s plans, it was difficult to argue with success. The little Cobourg plant was giving it its best. For the first time it began to look at diversifying its product line and, in 1995, they began bringing in polycarbonates to serve the small-order market with that material as well.

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“It’s something I still hear about today,” Steve said, “although not as much as I did back in ’96 when I joined the company. There certainly was a lot of bitterness about the new company and the rationalization. While it made good business sense, rationalization wasn’t well received (by most employees). Ten years later, there’s still some bitterness.”

But, for the most part, the page has been turned. When their backs were against the wall, from 1992 through 1995, Normar’s people set to work not only determined to prove what they did had value, but also that they could branch out, seek new business opportunities and demonstrate

Steve Rosa, at left, with employees on the NQ line.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 45

“They were selling at a significant price premium and they were starting to make money. By the time 1996 rolled around, when I joined, that part of the business was starting to take off. In fact, it had a pretty significant growth rate,” Steve said.

But Normar wasn’t out of the water yet. GE’s headquarters in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, still remained to be convinced the new revenue streams would remain viable over the long term.

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Solid vision

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“I don’t think head office had necessarily embraced what was going on in Cobourg, but the roots had been set. By the time I got here, the plant was still in some trouble,” Steve said. “But there were people before me that had a solid vision about what they could do with the plant.”

Steve credits former plant manager Joe Bleull with championing the new efforts, and Tom Bouchard who, with nearly 20 years of service at GE Plastics, was able to make good use of his connections in Pittsfield to sell the plant’s vision.

This all led to Nani Beccalli-Falco’s historic visit.

“Nani sponsored us for a great deal of investment.

He was a very influential person. From 1996 until 1999 we gained head office recognition that this was a moneymaking venture just waiting to happen. I just can’t say enough about the way the team in Cobourg rallied behind the effort,” Steve said.

In 1997-1998 the entire polycarbonate portfolio – GE’s Lexan line – was added to Cobourg’s product line-up. Then crystalline polymers were added, followed by the Valox, Xenoy and Xylex portfolios, with the new lines representing hundreds of new grades of plastic. But with each new material also came new challenges. Each polymer had its own extrusion technology affecting the type of equipment used, the types of screws in the extruders, temperature profiles and the overall mode of operation.

“We had to go through a very sharp learning curve,” Steve said. “The team did an amazing job during those years.”

With solid financial backing and an ever-improving balance sheet, in 1999 GEP Cobourg became an independent business – a profit-and-loss centre versus its previous designation as a cost centre.

“Between 1999 and 2000 we showed a 100-per-cent growth in our profit line and, in 1999, we introduced another benchmark service, and that was speed. We started to market and sell speed,” Steve said.

He was not referring to methamphetamine.

Today a customer can order just about any product that GE Plastics makes in a small-lot format, down to 55 pounds (one bag) and have that bag delivered anywhere, overnight if necessary. Of course, this service comes at a premium price.

“We had one customer that was doing a trial for a new part for one of the Big Three automotive companies, a clip for a body panel,” Steve said, citing a recent example.

“They had been working on this project for several months and they’d spent a lot of money on their plastic molds. They were ready to go and the deadline was coming up then, lo and behold, they’d forgotten to order the plastic! They had millions of dollars on the line and they thought they were going to lose it.

But they called us and we had the plastic at their door within eight hours.”

Typically, most of the plant’s orders are less than two tonnes but it has had orders from individual customers for five times that amount, although rarely.

has overseen Six Sigma projects both on the webbased order-entry side of the business, and with our distribution networks, which gives Normar a significant service advantage. Many of these innovations have been globally translated within GE Plastics. These very creative initiatives by the Cobourg team now pave the way for our next phase of growth,” Steve said.

“In reality, we manufacture just about everything we make within 24 hours of shipping it. Highservice orders are kind of a surprise; they come at the last minute. It’s not unusual to have representatives of the (customer’s) company waiting in the parking lot to follow the truck back, and it’s not unusual to have a jet sitting at Peterborough airport because a customer is in trouble.”

Employee response to these last-minute orders is overwhelming, he said.

“I don’t think you’ll find very many people on our team who don’t see an alignment between their personal success, our business success and our customer success.”

Steve, raised on a grain farm near Glenside, Saskatchewan, about 90 kilometre due south of Saskatoon, earned his Master of Applied Science degree, mechanical engineering, from the University of Saskatchewan in 1985. He joined Procter & Gamble Inc. in Belleville in 1986 and worked there for seven years before joining CAE Fiberglass as national operations leader, managing plants in Belleville and Edmonton.

CAE’s fiberglass division was sold to ZCL Fiberglass and Steve moved to Edmonton to oversee the company’s EZ Deck operations. He left ZCL to join GE Plastics Cobourg in 1996. He was appointed site leader (plant manager) in 1997. Steve lives in Belleville with his wife, Lorelei, and their five children.

“We’re all about small orders; and we’re all about speed,” Steve said.

About four to five per cent of the plant’s production falls into its “high-service channels” category, known as ‘Xpress’. This is when the fun – if you can call it that – really starts. But the employees are geared up to meet tight, almost impossible deadlines. They thrive on them.

“The Cobourg team has spearheaded some significant innovations which help facilitate this speed. Tina Luis, the plant’s supply-chain leader,

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High-service channels

Plastic sheet production, 2006.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 47

GE Plastics Cobourg, 2000.

GE Plastics Today

Barry Ferguson photo

GE Plastics, with headquarters in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, is a $7-billion (U.S.) global plastics materials supplier and distributor, serving customers in a variety of industries including aerospace, appliances, automotive, building and construction, data storage and optical media, medical, electrical and electronics devices, telecommunications, computers and peripheral devices, outdoor vehicles and devices, and packaging. GEP employs about 11,000 people and operates some 60 manufacturing and technology facilities in 20 countries.

Charlene Begley is GEP’s president and chief executive officer. Named to the post in July 2005, Begley began her career at General Electric in 1988. She has held a number of roles within the organization including vice-president of operations at GE Capital Mortgage Services, quality leader and later chief financial officer of GE Transportation Systems, and director of finance for GE PlasticsEurope. In January 2003, she was named president and CEO of GE Transportation’s rail business.

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Borg-Warner/GE Plastics Timeline 1862 – First man-made plastic, “Parkesine” (after Alexander Parkes), displayed at London’s Great International Exhibition.

1866 – Celluloid introduced.

1878 – Thomas A. Edison establishes the Edison Electric Light Company, one of the forerunners of General Electric.

1880 – Morse Equalizing Spring Company, forerunner of Morse Chain, is founded.

1882 – Edison Electric Light Company of Canada and Thomson-Houston Electric Light Company of Canada are incorporated.

1891 – Rayon discovered.

1892 – Merger of Edison Electric and the Thomson-Houston Electric Company creates the General Electric Company.

1892 – May 16, Canadian General Electric moves head office from Toronto to Peterborough.

1901 – Warner Gear is founded.

1904 – Borg & Beck is founded.

1907 – Bakelite invented.

1909 – Warner Gear manufactures first manual transmission.

1912 – GE begins molding of plastic parts using phenolic resins.

1928 – Borg-Warner Corporation is founded. Founding companies include Borg & Beck, Marvel-Schebler, Warner Gear and Mechanics Universal Joint.

1926 – PVC invented.

1929 – Borg-Warner acquires Morse Chain.

1930 – GE forms Plastics Department.

1932 – Borg-Warner Chemicals begins operations as the Marsene Transparent Paper Company, a transparent casein film manufacturer in Gary, Indiana.

1933 – Polyethylene discovered.

1934 – Marsene becomes part of the Borg-Warner Corporation, name changed to Marbon.

1934 – Borg-Warner Corporation purchases Marbon Corporation of Gary, Indiana.

1938 – Teflon® discovered.

1940s – Marbon ‘B’ cyclized rubber used as insulation for radar cable, critical to the defence of England during the Second World War; Marbon was the only producer; Marbon ‘B’ was replaced with polyethylene when it was introduced in 1943.

1948 – Canadian General Electric plastics plant opens in Cobourg (Division Street).

1953 – Marbon begins commercial production of Cycolac® ABS, one of the first non-brittle thermoplastics; Cycolac trademark issued August 11, 1953.

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1953 – Seeking improved wire enamel, Daniel W. Fox develops LEXAN polycarbonate resin, a transparent plastic of unsurpassed impact resistance.

1954 – Cycolac ABS developed further; some of the first applications included wristwatch bezels and toy locomotive railings.

1957 – Borg-Warner’s Woodmar site becomes Borg-Warner Chemicals’ headquarters.

1958 – Lexan® polycarbonate introduced commercially.

1961 – BWC purchases its first major computer system, the IBM 402 “accounting machine”.

1962 – BWC’s Baymar styrene plant operational.

1963 – BWC opens plant in Grangemouth, Scotland (Grangemar).

1963 – ABS sales in Canada total 5 million pounds, at 42 cents a pound.

1964 – BWC opens plant in Ube City, Japan.

1964 – ABS sales in Canada total 8 million pounds.

1964 – GE introduces Noryl® modified PPO® resin.

1965 – Normar plant opens.

1965 – BWC opens plant in Amsterdam, Holland.

1966 – BWC opens plants in Ottawa, Illinois, and Oxnard, California.

1966 – June 6, first eight production employees hired at Marbon Chemicals’ Normar plant: Jack Adams, Ed Jackson, Lorne Hill, Roy Sherwood, Wayne Rusaw, Alex Barrie, Roger Pearce and Doug Irwin.

1966 – Water line constructed to Normar plant (main trunk line from Cobourg into Hamilton Township, Normar’s actual location).

1967 – BWC’s Holmar plant opens in the Netherlands.

1967 – BWC’s Linmar plant opens in Illinois.

1968 – GE polymer businesses combined into a single unit under Jack Welch.

1968 – Extruded Lexan sheet developed for use in signs and glazing.

1968 – BWC opens plants in Carville, Louisiana and Melbourne, Australia.

1969 – September 24, Normar’s first bulk rail shipment – 121,825 pounds of LL4001 (22915-1) Black loaded in 14 hours and shipped via CPR (CP 381806) to the customer, Daymond Company Limited, 2028 Second Avenue SE, Calgary, Alberta.

1969 – Weston Chemical becomes part of BWC. 1970 – September, Stanley J. Randall, provincial minister of trade and development cuts ribbon to officially open Marbon’s new expansion; Leo Kowal and Rick Whaley also on hand at ribbon-cutting ceremony.

1970 – Normar’s wastewater treatment plant is commissioned.

1971 – Normar announces first layoffs in its five years of existence; six of the plant’s 150 employees given their notice.

1971 – Valox® resin introduced.

1972 – May 26, Normar employees endorse three-day work cycle, 12 hours per day; affects 67 of the plant’s 140 employees; six-month trial period to begin June 5; each employee to work an average of 42 hours a week, three days on, three days off; plan orchestrated by the employees themselves.

1972 – BWC hits two-billion-pound mark, production of Cycolac.

1973 – CGE Molded Plastics (Division Street) celebrates 25th anniversary of its Cobourg operation.

1973 – October, to recognize the “broadening business scope of Marbon,” the division adopts Borg-Warner Chemicals as its name.

1974 – April 11, Normar logs 250,000 hours without a lost-time injury.

1974 – November/December, recession and ravages of inflation force BorgWarner to lay off nearly 2,500 employees.

1974 – Borg-Warner inaugurates plant in Sao Paulo, Brazil.

1975 – January 1, Normar’s computerized payroll system launched.

1975 – January 23, Normar logs 500,000 hours without a lost-time injury.

1975 – Len Harvey appointed president of Borg-Warner Chemicals.

1976 – Normar forms Plant Energy Conservation Committee; target: reduce energy consumption by 18 per cent over 1975.

1976 – June 12, third consecutive year without a lost-time injury.

1976 – NEAC gas bar in full operation; gas price: 73 cents a gallon.

1976 – Normar’s sales office transferred to Mississauga.

1977 – Woodmar plant celebrates 20th anniversary.

1977 – March 8, BWC president Leonard Harvey announces expansion plans for the Cobourg operation; capacity to be boosted to 25,000 tons.

1977 – November, Borg-Warner’s expansion plans at the Cobourg plant will create 15 new jobs in 1978.

1977 – Normar passes the four-year mark with no lost-time injuries, unmatched by any of the other BWC plants in North America.

1977 – Borg-Warner’s net sales for the year topped $2 billion (US).

1977 – It’s estimated 90 per cent of all telephones in North America were molded from Cycolac ABS. 1978 – January 1, Normar begins marketing in metric.

1978 – BWC employees total 2,400.

1978 – Summer, an 18-foot (5.5-metre) scale model of the 1,815-foot (553metre) CN Tower goes on display in the tower’s lobby. The LEGO block display was manufactured by Samsonite Canada with Cycolac ABS supplied by Normar. The model was the subject of a guess-the-number-ofblocks contest. Seven entrants guessed 32,000 blocks. The correct answer was 31,957. The model was on display until Christmas.

1978 – November, merger proposed between Borg-Warner and Firestone Tire & Rubber Company, the second largest tire manufacturer in the United States.

If the merger proceeds, the new firm would be the 23rd largest (BorgWarner was America’s 127th largest corporation, based on 1977 sales).

1979 – GE becomes the first corporation in history to be assigned 50,000 U.S. patents.

1979 – April 24, Borg-Warner/Firestone merger scuttled.

1979 – Normar expands its resin and mixing areas, and installs a unique extruder.

1979 – Normar is the only BWC facility in North America without a lost-time injury.

1980 – February 1, BWC reorganizes top-level positions: George McNally, president, BWC-Europe becomes group executive vice-president; Bill Patient, division operations vice-president, becomes president, BWCEurope; John Ranson, plant manager, Baymar, becomes division director of Operations-Plastics; Leo Kowal, plant manager, Normar, becomes plant manager, Baymar; all North American ABS plants (Normar, Woodmar, Calmar and Linmar) now report to John Ranson who, in turn, reports to Division Plastics vice-president Joseph Sakach.

1980 – December 31, Borg-Warner Chemicals becomes a wholly owned subsidiary of Borg-Warner Corporation.

1980 – First full year of operation for Normar’s NG line.

1980 – Second full year in a row without a lost-time injury.

1981 – John F. Welch Jr. appointed chairman & CEO, General Electric, served until 2001.

1981 – May, Normar’s resin building breaks all-time record by drying 123 tonnes of “601” resin in 24 hours.

1981 – August, GM awards Borg-Warner Vendor Quality Award for 1981 model year; August also all-time record month for sales.

1983 – Normar plant receives business excellence award from the Ontario Chamber of Commerce.

1983 – Normar achieves energy conservation goal of 1,955 BTUs/pound of product.

1984 – First all-thermoplastics auto bumper, made of Xenoy® resin.

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1984 – January 3, George J. McNally is named president of Borg-Warner Chemicals, Inc., replacing Leonard A. Harvey, who was promoted to executive vicepresident of Borg-Warner Corporation.

1984 – January 3, Clarence E. “Red” Johnson, 57, elected president and chief operating officer and a member of the board of directors of Borg-Warner Corporation.

1984 – April, CGE sells Molded Plastics (Division Street) to Complax Corporation for $13 million.

1984 – July, 500,000 hours without a lost-time injury.

1984 – September 16, Normar Family Day. 1984 – Borg-Warner Chemicals celebrates its 50th anniversary (1934-1984).

During the week of October 22, all North American locations hold special observations of the anniversary. All BWC employees receive a commemorative gift, a telephone.

1984 – Normar purchases trackmobile to shunt rail cars; received from CPR. 1985 – One million hours without a lost-time injury; 1,000-day mark reached September 30.

1985 – Borg-Warner Chemicals registers record operating profit of $122.3 million (US) on sales of $928.6 million (second best year); accounts for a quarter of BW’s corporate sales and one-third of its operating profit.

1985 – After a five-year tenure as president of BWC-Europe, Bill Patient returns to the U.S. as group vice-president and general manager of the Prevex polymer business. Al Watson, formerly BWC’s executive vice-president, replaces Patient in Europe.

1985 – March, NEAC gas bar prices: 46.6 cents a litre for unleaded.

1985 – June 15, annual Normar picnic.

1986 – GE merges with RCA. 1986 – Borg-Warner Chemicals surpasses the $1-billion mark in annual sales.

1986 – Employee Assistance Program (EAP) officially introduced.

1986 – Summer, construction to replace the MA building begins; originally built in the 1950s.

1986 – BWC celebrates 20 years of producing ABS plastic in the Cobourg area, open house October 26.

1986 – Borg-Warner announces it intends to sell its Industrial Productions and Financial Services groups, following earlier divestiture of York Air Conditioning.

1987 – Normar achieves 500,000 hours without a lost-time injury; 600 days by the end of the year.

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1987 – Normar sets sales records for each month except October.

1987 – July 31, Borg-Warner Chemicals becomes a private entity, owned by BorgWarner Holdings Corporation, a subsidiary of Merrill Lynch Corporate Partners. BWC’s board of directors had endorsed the leveraged buyout offer early in May. 1987 – Borg-Warner’s sales for the year top $1.25 billion (US).

1987 – GE Canada’s new head office is built in Toronto’s west end.

1988 – February, rumours heat up concerning potential sale of Borg-Warner.

1988 – April 18, BWC president and CEO George J. McNally announces that seven “suitors” have shown interest in purchasing the company.

1988 – April 9, two years without a LWDCAFW (Lost Work Day Cases Away From Work).

1988 – May, Borg-Warner’s executives conclude formal presentations to seven potential buyers.

1988 – June 4, annual Normar picnic.

1988 – June 15, Merrill Lynch and Borg-Warner Corporation sign a purchase agreement with the General Electric Company; GE Plastics to acquire BWC’s Chemical group for $2.31 billion (US).

1988 – June 16, Glen H. Hiner, senior vice-president and group executive, GE Plastics, welcomes BWC employees to General Electric Company.

1988 – October 24, integration of BWC with GE Plastics Canada allowed after a review by the Canadian federal government’s department of consumer and corporate affairs. GE adds ABS to its products with acquisition of BWC. 1988 – First CDs enter the marketplace.

1988 – November, Normar’s first recycling committee meeting. Members: Kim Boucher, Barb Harnden, Bill Harvey, Roger Pearce, Hugh Potter, Marilyn Routly, Donna Ryckman, John Thompson; advisor: Ernie Everingham.

1989 – Borg-Warner Chemicals acquired by GE Plastics Canada Ltd., the Canadian arm of the GE Plastics business headquartered in Pittsfield, Massachusetts.

GE Plastics is one of 14 businesses making up the General Electric Company.

1989 – July 30, Cobourg plant receives IAPA award for 200,000 hours “free of compensable injury,” and hits 250,000 hours on August 3, 1989, leading GE Plastics in North America.

1989 – September 25, GE Plastics Canada is formed as a legal entity, with the Meadowvale business incorporated into the Cobourg business. Also, Polymerland Canada is established, operating out of Rexdale, Ontario.

About the Author 1989 – GE Canada becomes a wholly owned subsidiary of General Electric Company.

1989 – October, Normar launches new production unit, a Werner and Pfleiderer 70-millimetre Super Compounder.

1989 – 200 acres of land purchased adjacent to Normar site.

1991 – Spring, 170 people working at Normar site.

1991 – GE Plastics Cobourg celebrates 25th anniversary; Normar stages family day/ open house on June 22.

1992 – February 25, GE Plastics Canada announces that nearly half of its Cobourg workforce will be cut due to “poor business conditions, sluggish demand and excess capacity” (Randy Morris, plant manager).

1995 – GE Plastics celebrates 30th anniversary of continuous operation in the Cobourg area; open house, July 6 and 7.

1997 – The Super Plug™ door module, molded of GE Plastics’ XENOY® thermoplastic resin, appears on a production vehicle for the first time with the 1997 General Motors minivans.

1997 – GE Plastics’ CYCOLOY® PC/ABS resin (MC8002 grade) is specified for the ’97 Cadillac DeVille front door interior trim panel.

2001 – Jeffrey R. Immelt appointed chairman of the board and CEO, General Electric.

2001 – GE Plastics acquires Nim Plastics, near Chicago, and MatraPlast at Long Sault, Ontario, fabricators of polycarbonate sheet.

2002 – GE Plastics acquires LNP Engineering Plastics from Kawasaki Steel Corporation of Japan.

2003 – Cobourg facility becomes part of LNP 2004 – January, GE Plastics, GE Silicones and GE Quartz are combined to form GE Advanced Materials.

2005 – Company name reverts to GE Plastics.

2006 – GE Plastics publishes Our People – Our History in celebration of the Cobourg plant’s 40th anniversary.

Ralph Holland Wilson Ralph Holland Wilson was born in Ottawa in 1953. After attending Conestoga College in Kitchener where he studied film production, Ralph joined The Ottawa Citizen in 1974 as a copy clerk. He later was promoted to staff writer. In 1979 he became United Press Canada’s Alberta correspondent based in Edmonton, followed by a brief stint as a business writer with The Edmonton Sun. In 1981 he joined Canadian Pacific Limited as a public relations representative in Calgary. Three years later he was transferred to Montréal and served as manager, employee communications with Canadian Pacific Railway. In 1995 Ralph was appointed manager, communications and special projects and was responsible for CPR’s overall communication effort supporting the railway’s head office relocation to Calgary. He left the railway in 1999 and became a freelance writer and communication consultant.

His other works include Chedoke – More than a Sanatorium, a history of Hamilton’s Chedoke Hospital; The Line, a historical guide to CPR’s main line between Calgary and Vancouver, co-authored with Don Thomas; Nicholas Morant: Photographer, a profile of one of Canada’s most widely respected railway photographers; Challenge, the history of CPR’s Rogers Pass grade reduction and tunnelling project, co-authored with Roger Burrows and CPR’s late corporate historian, Omer Lavallée; and Shards, a book of poetry.

Ralph and his wife, Anne Tennier, live in Waterdown, near Hamilton, Ontario, with their Shetland sheepdog, Ally.

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Glossary, Trade Names and Abbreviations ABS – Acrylonitrile-butadiene-styrene.

Alkylphenols – A classification of products made from phenol, used in the manufacture of lubricant additives, oil field chemicals, surfactants and other polymer additives.

Banbury – A compounding machine containing a pair of contra-rotating rotors that masticate and blend materials.

Blendex – A group of ABS polymer additives, sold in powder form.

Casein – A protein extracted from skimmed milk. Rennet casein is used in the manufacture of plastics.

Cumene hydroperoxide – A colourless to pale yellow liquid chemical used as a polymerization inhibitor and as initiators in chemical reactions.

Cycolac® ABS – GE’s trademark for ABS (formerly held by Borg-Warner).

Cycolon – Synthetic resinous compositions (originally a Marbon trade name).

Cycoloy® – The trade name for any plastic alloy made by BWC, e.g. Cycoloy EHA is a plateable alloy of ABS and polycarbonate.

Cycoloy® PC/ABS – Polycarbonate/acrylonitrile-butadiene-styrene (PC/ABS).

Cycopac – ABS and nitrile barrier (originally a Marbon trade name).

Cyovin – Self-extinguishing ABS graft-polymer blends (originally a Marbon trade name).

EPDM – Ethylene-propylene-diene (rubber).

EPS – Expanded polystyrene.

Extrusion – Compacting and forcing plastic through a hole.

Gaylord – A rectangular container with a volume of about one cubic yard. A gaylord of plastic pellets weighs about 1,000 pounds.

Genal® – Phenolic compounds (GE trade name).

Geloy® ASA – Acrylic-styrene-acrylonitrile (ASA).

Glyptal® – Alkyd resins (GE).

Lexan® EXL – Polycarbonate (GE).

Lexan® PC – Polycarbonate resins, film, sheet (GE).

Noryl® – Modified polyphenylene oxide (GE).

OSB – Order, ship, bill.

PA – Polyamide (nylon).

PE – Polyethylene.

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Phosphites – Aid in preventing ABS resins from burning in high-temperature dryers, prevent colour formation and streaking during molding and extrusion, and improve resistance to sunlight.

PP – Polypropylene.

PPE – Polyphenylene ether.

PPO – Polyphenylene oxide.

PPO® Resin – Poly 2,6-dimethyl-1, 4-phenylene ether (PPE) (GE).

PPS – Polyphenylene sulfone.

PS – Polystyrene.

PTFE – Polytetrafluoroethylene.

PU – Polyurea.

PUR – Polyurethane.

PVC – Polyvinyl chloride.

SPC – Statistical Process Control.

Surfactants – A group of chemicals, which contain both water-attracting and water-repelling properties. Surfactants can lower the tension of water, permit water to wet, penetrate, disperse, spread and act as a solvent.

Textolite® – Industrial laminates (GE).

Ultem® PEI – Polyetherimide (GE).

Valox® PBT – Thermoplastic polyester, polybutylene terephthalate (PBT) (GE).

Xenoy® PC/PBT – GE. Xylex™ Resin – GE.

In Memoriam Austin, George Bailey, North Barrie, Alex Bird, Charles Blakely, Ray Boysen, Les Budias, Bob Burge, Fred Carr, Larry Clarke, Ken Copley, Ivan Daniels, Art Davis, John Dejong, John Dolley, Gerry Dolley, Harold Earl, Gord Fraser, Leslie Gilpin, Bob

Hall, Chuck Harvey, Bill Hatfield, Jules Hill, Lorne Hutchings, Jack Irwin, Doug Jackson, Jason Johnson, Glenn Johnson, Jim Jones, Jim Klein, Henry Lane, Derrick Leach, Bob Loucks, Dave Marriott, Bob Marsh, Reid Martin, Jim May, Eric Moore, Harry

Morgan, Don Osborne, Earl Partridge, Leo Phillips, Wayne Rahme, Orville Ramsey, Roslyn Rusaw, Wayne Sherwood, Roy Stewart, Don Summers, Garnet Sutherland, Alex Thompson, John Turk, Brian Vance, Dave Vance, Lorne Wangen, Ed Ward, Bob Wendland, Carl

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 57

Footnotes 1 GE Plastics, formerly GE Advanced Materials-Plastics, is a leading global manufacturer and

distributor of plastic resins, custom compounded engineered thermoplastics, sheet and film products, used in industries including automotive, computers, telecommunications, appliances, optical media, packaging and building and construction.

2 In October 1973, Borg-Warner officially dropped the titles “Marbon” and “Normar” from the Cobourg plant, but some townsfolk and many current and former employees still refer to the facility as Normar. The Marbon Division and the Chemicals and Plastics Group of the Borg-Warner Corporation were renamed Borg-Warner Chemicals in the same year.

3 Acrylonitrile-butadiene-styrene (ABS): Acrylonitrile and styrene liquids and butadiene gas are polymerized together in a variety of ratios to produce the family of ABS resins. (Source: Industrial Plastics, Theory and Applications, third edition, by Terry L. Richardson, Ph.D., and Erik Lokensgard; Delmar Publishers Inc., a division of Thomson Learning, 1997.)

4 DWV – Drain, Waste, Vent.

5 In January 2004, GE Plastics, GE Silicones and GE Quartz were combined to form GE Advanced Materials. The company name reverted to GE Plastics in 2006.

6 “The Little Engine That Could,” by “Watty Piper,” illustrated by Lois Lenski, copyright 1930 by Platt & Monk, publishers, a division of Grosset & Dunlap, New York, later absorbed by Penguin Books for Young People.

7 On March 25, 2002 GE acquired LNP Engineering Plastics from Kawasaki Steel Corporation. A new business entity was created, comprising the acquired assets of LNP and GE Plastics’ Custom Engineered Products (CEP). “LNP” was added to the Cobourg plant’s title (GE Advanced Materials) shortly after the acquisition. In 2005, the plant reverted to its earlier name, “GE Plastics.” LNP: Liquid Nitrogen Processing (Corporation) founded in 1948.

8 Now BorgWarner (without the hyphen, as of August 7, 1984).

9 Also the motto of the Royal Canadian Air Force Association.

10 Now deceased.

11 “BW” is this book’s abbreviation for Borg-Warner Corporation. “BWC” is the abbreviation used for Borg-Warner Chemicals.

12 Now part of Bell Canada Enterprises, formed in 1983.

13 Northern Electric became Northern Telecom in 1976. In 1995, its name was changed to Nortel.

Three years later, it became Nortel Networks.

14 In 1989 the food products divisions of General Foods, Kraft and Philip Morris joined to become Kraft General Foods.

15 A protein precipitated from skimmed milk by the action of either rennin or dilute acid. Rennet casein is made into plastics. Rennin is an enzyme of gastric juice that causes milk to coagulate (Source: Industrial Plastics, Theory and Applications, third edition, Richardson & Lokensgard, Delmar Publishers Inc., 1996).

16 Ibid.

17 Ibid.

18 Today, BorgWarner, headquartered in Auburn Hills, Michigan, employs more than 17,000 people in 17 countries. It is best known now for its automatic transmission systems and other automotive powertrain components, as well as being a major sponsor of the Indianapolis 500, with its BorgWarner trophy.

19 A rubber-like substance that can be stretched to several times its original length and then, once released rapidly returns to almost its original length.

20 Source: General Electric.

21 Now Salaberry-de-Valleyfield.

22 The Tennessee Eastman Corporation (TEC) was founded in 1920. In 1950, it became the Tennessee Eastman Company, a division of Eastman Kodak, Kingsport, Tennessee. In 1968, TEC became part of the Eastman Chemicals Division, which in 1990 became the Eastman Chemical Company, a division of Eastman Kodak Company.

23 Now deceased.

1 58 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

24 Now deceased.

25 Organization of Petroleum Exporting Companies.

26 Now Toronto Pearson International Airport; formerly Lester B. Pearson International Airport (from

1984); became Toronto International Airport in 1960, formerly Malton Airport (1939-1960).

27 Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis.

28 The Ryerson Institute of Technology was founded in 1948. In 1964, its name was changed to Ryerson Polytechnical Institute. It received full accreditation in 1993 and changed its name to Ryerson Polytechnic University. In June 2001, it became Ryerson University.

29 Trademark for a prefabricated shelter set on a foundation of bolted steel trusses and built of a semicircular arching roof of corrugated metal insulated with wood fibre.

30 Jedburgh is now part of the Rural Municipality of Garry, Saskatchewan, population: 514, as of 2001. In 1998, before its amalgamation as a census district, Jedburgh had a grand total of 13 residents. The Town of Fosston today boasts 55 citizens. (Source: Saskatchewan Bureau of Statistics).

31 Edgar John Benson was first elected to the House of Commons as a Liberal in 1962 representing Kingston and the Islands. In 1964 he became Minister of National Revenue in Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson’s cabinet. Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau appointed him Finance Minister in 1968.

Benson also briefly served as Canada’s Minister of National Defence, from January until August 1972, when he retired from elected office. He was appointed president of the Canadian Transport Commission on September. 1, 1972.

32 The Township of Alnwick/Haldimand stretches from Rice Lake on the north to Lake Ontario on the south and includes the communities of Grafton and Roseneath. The famed environmentally protected Oak Ridges Moraine forms the spine of the community and makes up about 50 per cent of the area. The township is part of Northumberland County, which also includes the Town of Cobourg, the townships of Cramahe and Hamilton, and the municipalities of Brighton, Trent Hills and Port Hope.

33 Now deceased.

34 In 1892, Canadian General Electric Company Limited was incorporated in Canada through a merger of Edison Electric Light Company and Thomson-Houston Electric Light Company of Canada.

The Peterborough-based company originally manufactured generators, transformers, motors, wire, cable and lamps.

35 Opened in 1957, the Millbrook Correctional Centre was 22 kilometres southwest of Peterborough and 28 kilometres north of Port Hope. It was decommissioned in May 2003.

36 Connie Groth left BWC’s employee communications group in 1980 to join the sales department.

She was replaced by Vicci Rodgers, formerly with Lynchburg Foundry, a Mead Company.

37 From “The Graduate” (1967), Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios; directed by Mike Nichols; starring Anne Bancroft as Mrs. Robinson, Dustin Hoffman as Benjamin Braddock, Katharine Ross as Elaine Robinson and Walter Brooke as Mr. McGuire; nominated for seven Academy Awards; won Best Director.

38 Amoco (American Oil Company) was founded by John D. Rockefeller in 1889 and first incorporated as Standard Oil of Indiana. It became independent of Standard Oil in 1911. Amoco merged with British Petroleum (BP) in 1998.

39 Lyondell, formed in 1985 from selected chemical and refining assets of Atlantic Richfield Company (Arco), is one of the world’s largest chemical companies. It operates on five continents and employs nearly 10,000 people worldwide. It was spun off from Arco in 1989 and became a public company.

40 Commodore International Ltd. was founded in 1958 by Jack Tramiel as a small typewriter sales and repair shop in Toronto. The SuperPet was fully developed into a working prototype by BMB CompuScience, of Milton, Ontario.

41 Born in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1936, Welch served as chairman and chief executive officer of General Electric from 1981 until 2001. In 1960, he joined GE as a chemical engineer with its Plastics Division in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. He was elected GE’s youngest vice-president in 1972 and was named vice-chairman in 1979. He succeeded Reginald H. Jones as chairman and CEO. 42 General Electric was founded in 1892.

43 “Fusion” material excerpted from the spring 1989 issue of Monogram (Vol. 67, No.2); original

story by Thomas L. Connor.

44 Now part of the Tekni-Plex family of companies.

45 Now part of Valero Energy Corporation.

46 Now the Goodrich Corporation.

47 In 2001, Jeff Immelt, 49, was appointed GE’s chairman and chief executive officer. He began his GE career in 1982. Over the last 22 years, he has held a series of global leadership roles in GE’s Plastics, Appliance and Medical businesses. He became an officer of GE in 1989, and joined the GE Capital Board in 1997 (Source: General Electric).

48 Nestlé purchased Stouffer’s in 1973.

49 SummerActive is an annual, community-based communication program organized by the federal government’s Public Health Agency Canada, Health Canada and Canadian Heritage (Sport Canada).

It is designed to increase awareness about the importance of physical activity, healthy eating, sport participation and tobacco-free lifestyles. The 2005 campaign took place from May 6 to June 20.

50 A native of Italy, Beccalli-Falco was appointed president and CEO of GE International in January 2005. Now based in Brussels, he formerly served as executive vice-president, GE Capital Services.

He began his career at GE in the United States in 1975, then in 1977 joined GE Plastics’ strategic planning group in The Netherlands. In 1981 he moved to GEP’s global headquarters in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. He returned to Holland in 1987 as director of marketing and, in 1990, became managing director of Strategic Planning-Europe. From 1993 until 1996 he served as president, GE Plastics Japan Ltd. Beccalli-Falco was vice-president and general manager, GE Plastics Americas from January 1997 until May 2001, when he joined Capital Services.

51 Polymerland, Inc. was established in 1988 as a wholly owned subsidiary of the General Electric Company, following GE’s purchase of BWC. Polymerland was formed to offer engineering resins, commodities, custom compounds and colorants from the industry’s leading manufacturers through a network of distribution centres and supporting warehouses. In 1989 Polymerland began to expand its operations and customer base outside the United States with distribution centres in Canada and the Caribbean. A year later it began building a European network. In 1999 Polymerland became GE Polymerland.

O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y 1 59

Autographs

1 6 0 O u r P e op l e – O u r H i s t o r y

People make all the difference.

Even in the most challenging times, GE Plastics’ resourceful, creative and industrious staff always played the game to win.

Those employees recruited from the Cobourg area, who came to their jobs as family and friends, teamed up with American colleagues to ensure the success of the plastics operation.

Our People – Our History is a tribute to the employees of GE Plastics as the plant on the sunny north shore of Lake Ontario celebrates its 40th year of operation.

ISBN 0-9780456-0-290000

9

780978 045609