Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-09-21


formal gatherings, to take the lead in q
quartet redition of Sweet Adeline."
At Princeton, Mccormick headed the
Triangle Club. He led the orchestra on
concert tours and refused several fiat
tering offers to turn professional. He
graduated from Princeton in 1921. Fol-
lowed several years of travel, chiefly in
Europe-and a long, long, struggle with
himself. He yearned to lead the life
of a scholar and an aesthetic. But
sound. practical sense told him that his
job lay with the Harvester Co.
If he followed the lighter things OF
life, as his father had done for many
years, he knew the world would say:
"Oh, just another rich mans son. Good
stock once, but look at it now. Going TO
seed"
Fowler fought out his problem and
solved It,
On Washington's birthday, 1925,
young Mccormick alighted from train
in Milwaukee. He wore his Oldest suit
and overcoat. He carried large, box
like suit case 1t contained pair or
corduroy trousers, sweater, heavy
shoes, socks, khaki shirts, underwear,
toilet articles and few books.
$4-a-Week Room.
An hour later, out on the South Side,
the young man stood in a two-flights-
up lodging house room and said to the
landlady:
"IIl take this room can afford to
pay 81 a week 1 am going to work to-
morrow for the International Harvester
Co."
The Widow Rosche expressed the hope
that her new ledger would work up to
a position of eminence equal to her
late husbands. who had been a molder
and earned ST and SO a day.
Thus Fowler Mccormick overnight
stepped out of his environment as q
rich mans son and become workman.
And in wisconsin, of all places. Wis
consin, citadel of the late Robert Mar
ion La Toilette and of Victor Berger!
wisconsin, where the very urchins
carry MARKHAM monographs in pockets
designed for marbles, dice and Nick
Carriers.
Very simply, Mccormick told me why
be had decided to enter an alien world
and why he had decided to live with
and become one of the toilers In the
gre2t manufacturing enterprise of his
family.
1.-THE urge in my blood was toward
real work" he explained. All my
forefsthers worked with their hands.
When 1 c,ett--mined that it was my duty
to carry On in the family's principal
business and 10 learn it thoroughly
from the ground up, and in every
branch it seemed the sporting thing
to live as my fellows lived. wanted to
see things from the inside, from the
viewpoint of the men. I couldn't get
what I was after if I merely went
around posing. 1t would be like hiring
a double to do my work"
My friends experiment interested me
tremendously. AS the months and the
years passed and he went through plant
after plant and department after de-
partment, taking the hard ticks as they
came. realized that he meant business.
Now he has mastered every mechanical
end of a complicated business. kept
up with him and once visited him for
week. 1 saw where and how he lived
and worked, ate, slept and had his
being. talked with scores of the 5000
men and boys in overaIs who daily
thronged the bleak, black Harvester
buildings that cast their somber
shadows over valley and at night seem
like tired Titans resting on their
launches.
Gap Not UnbridgeabIe.
That week taught me lot. I learned
there is no unbridgeable gap between
the individual capitalist and the in
diV1dual workman. when the former
shows decent, honest desire To under
stand the latter and is willing to learn
as we'll as boss"
In half a dozen plants, scattered
throughout the country, where he has
labored and helped to turn out trucks,
thrashing machines, separators and
other products, Mccormick has learned.
Now he knows his business and he
knows his men, lie is ready to take
his place at headquarters. He knows
the problems of the worllmen and will
be able to deal with them as an execu-
tive. And thousands of the men know
him as fellow workman and a square,
shooter. Those years of practical labor
have been fruitful.
One morning, so early I felt like a
sleep walker, We strolled down to a
lunch room for Breakfast A touch of
approaching Summer was in the air,
A laggard sun was slowly forcing its
way through the early murk. Dozens of
men, some in black flannel shirts. coat
less. spoke or exchanged smiles with
Mccormick. There was no strain in
the greeting.
After breakfast Mccormick reported
for work in the foundry. Here one was
entranced by the melody and color of
labor. Carl. a veteran molder a Hercules
with kindly eyes, was foreman of
Fowlers gang. Carl remembers the day
when men of his trade were like
Journeymen printers and wandered the
country over, driven partly by lack of
steady employment. partly by that
vision OF the faraway that comes to
even the most prosaic at times. noticed
the men seemed to look upon Carl as
college freshmen look upon the captain
of the foot ball team.
AT luncheon in the plant restaurant,
where those around us were consuming
sauerkraut as though it had been breast
OF SQUAD, I spoke to Mccormick about
the apparent desire for leadership. Its
fact" he commented. THE average
worker wants to be able to look up to
the man at the head OF his department,
the man at the head of his factory, his
general organization. He likes to feel
that his superior knows his business"
From my talks with the men I
gathered the impression that lack Of
steady employment was their principal
worry. SO shot at Mccormick:
Soon you will have considerable to
say about the welfare of 10000 to 50,-
600 men. How are you going to guar
family workman steady job?"
That's a real problem" he replied,
perhaps the toughest we have. The
workingman doesn't understand eco
nomic curves or the laws that govera
supply and demand. All he knows IS
that there is a fatter pay enveloTxS
when the factory is rushed. He'd lii
to feel that so long as he does gos&
work there will be job for HIM
There should be. Some sort of balance
Ing system, I feel, ought TO be and will
be worked out"
On his first jobs Mccormick had to
fight through or quit. He fought
through. If you have ever tackled q,
heavy physical job when your muscles
were bit soft and your back out OF
just visualize what he was up
against, for instance, throughout the