Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-09-21
FOWLER MCCORMICK TOLLS
WITH HANDS-AND LIKES IT
Grandson of Two Industrial Magnates
Finds Workers Fine Fellows Unless
"You Ritz EN-"
BY JOHN X. wINKLER.

Large, well shaped, with the
i spatulate fingers of a musician,
the young mans hands were
plowed with the tngrained CRIME of the
manual laborer. No amount of scrub
bing could remove those significant
marks, like powder situations on white
paper.
'Those biscuit snatchers do look as
though they'd been through the mill,
don't they?" he chuckled. But have
an idea they'd show up lily white in
comparison with those of some of my
family a couple of generations ago.
Grandfather Mccormick worked with
his hands all of his life. So has Grand
father Rockefeller He is never happier
than when he has trowel and an old
pair of work gloves and is planting
trees or transplating shrubbery. Hands
were made to work with, physically.
I wouldn't trade the hard manual labor
have done for anything in the world"
Fowler Mccormick, 81, heir to many
millions, son of Harold F. Mccormick,
grandson of two American industrial
planets, Cyrus H. Mccormick and John
D. Rockefeller, is concluding a remarka-
BILE experiment
For five years. with brief intermis-
sions, he has been taking a degree in
life in various machinery manufactur-
ing works of the International Har-
vester Co. controlled by his family.
During the greater part of this period
he has worn overalls and labored shoul-
der to shoulder with the workmen
Six mornings week at 5:45 or earlier
he has been awakened by the impera-
tive br-rrr of an alarm clock in work.
, ingmen's rooming houses and, in Win
ter's chill and Summers heat, he has
joined lines of laborerS and mechanics
hustling past gate tenders and time
keepers.
Now, with important executive posi-
lions awaiting him, he says:
THE American workingman is the
finest and most democratic chap on
earth. He is always willing to meet
you half way If you don't ritz him or
try to shoulder your task onto him.
Word Quickly Spread.
I'm the half-doZen plants where I
have worked, in Nebraska, Ohio, Wis
consin, Indiana and elsewhere, word
soon got around that I was 'McCor-
nick's son. But the men OF my various
gangs displayed neither servility nor
contempt No fraternity brothers could
have been more helpful. I know thou
sands of Harvester workmen as Joe and
Jerry, Tom and Harry, and they know
me as Mac I am proud of their
friendship.
Most men who work with their
hands are a great deal happier than
problem ridden, often neurasthenic
brain workers The manual laborer
does not suffer from what Arnold Ben
nett calls the collisions of existence
He is physically healthy. Food isn't
Just something to eat. It's glorious
boon satisfying the systems craving.
And sleep is a gift of the gods.
The working man is not a machine,
but very human human being. He
looks at life about the same way any
other human being does. He doesn't
require pamper1ng nor will he stand
for being treated as a robot. From the
employers standpoint too much senti-
mentality toward the men who work for
him Is as bad as too little heart. The
problem is largely one of individuals
There is damn big difference between
individuals. In industry, as everywhere
else in life, there are men that want
to work, others that just want to get by.
THE good worker land he is over
! whelmingly in the majority is entitled
to preferential treatment over the loafer
Any industrial scheme which would
benefit all workers equally, regardless
OF merits, would be a proper reward to
the man who does good work But it
would be nothing more than a dole to
those who don't. Doles have never sue
H.
and it diun't work. Contemporary Eng
land has tried one form of dole to her
sorrow"
Does the average working man want
to do his job well?"
You bet he does" was the emphatic
reply. And he has a tremendous
amount of pride-pride in himself. pride
Scene in Restaurant.
1t was early in the morning. We
were perched on stools in a white front
restaurant near an International Har-
vester factory. While the hrawny egg
bartender fried four guaranteed new
lads for our breakfast, Mccormick
held match to his pipe. The flame
illumined youthful eager face, high.
wide forehead, deep, dark eyes. asked:
What have you found the average
working man wants more than anything
else?"
What every responsible man wants."
men of wealth. "A wage large enough
to support his family comfortably or as
much more as he can earn. Also he
wants good working conditions. don't
mean just cleanliness, good lighting,
lavatory, showers. He wants his en-
ployer to give him the best he has in
return for his best; Good materials
kOOA anu
other executives he comes into intimate
contact with"
The day before, in the factory, I had
been talking with a little Scotchman
named Jimmie, a foreman molder,
chockful of personality, whose family on
both sides of the Atlantic for genera
tons have wrought in iron. Jimmie said
in tones that still held the heathery
r-r-rs of Aberdeen:
"A man wants well run company
to work for. If his tools an his mate
rails are good, he can do the work he
is here for an earn the money he is
entitled to-"
Mccormick developed this point:
If you were working on a lathe or
drill press, you'd demand good quality
materials and speedy delivery so there'd
be no hitch in your work. Look at
those molders, handling 90-pound
buckets of liquid metal. They have got
to have good hot iron coming to them
so their castings will be perfect and
not thrown on the scrap pile to count
against them.
Take that splendid drop-hammer
man we saw in the forge shop. He is
a man of quality, lineal successor to the
village smithy Longfellow immortalized.
He wants good oil. If he gets good oil, !
he won't have to wait for cold steel or
have his steel burned when 1t comes |
under the hammer It's the function |
of the management to see that he gets
good oil"
Sparkle in His Eyes.
AS he talked there was sparkle of |
romance in McCormick's eyes, One |
could twirl the ball and visualize young |
Cyrus Mccormick, in the Valley of Vir- |
ginia, tinkering early and late about a
blacksmith shop and delighting his |
sturdy Scotch-Irish father, in the |
harvest of 1881, by driving a horse at |
tached to a queer looking instrument |
into a field of rye and demonstrating |