Vermont Rebuild had a 401(k) plan; the company contributed an amount equal to 3% of our pay every week. We could put in 2% more, and the company would match it. So most of us were investing 7%. It wasn’t a bad plan at all, and you could pick and choose among several investment options. The only problem was, you couldn’t change these options very easily ( I think there was a three month wait period). We even had a profit sharing program that I remember receiving a few checks from.

Our health insurance was usually Blue Cross / Blue Shield, with the premium cost split, the company paying 50%, the employee paying 50%. Dental insurance was available for an additional cost. These plans would usually change every year, due to premium cost increases. Sometimes the insurance carrier would change; I remember Aetna was our insurer for a while. Craig would shop around every year to get the best plan for the least cost. Sometimes our deductible would go up so that the premiums could stay low. We had a small, older workforce, and some of us had serious health issues; this in itself meant higher premiums.

One of the nice features we had at Vermont Rebuild was a weekly newssheet that was handed out with our paychecks. This single sheet could have some news about work in progress, pending sales, or perhaps a story on one of the employees. Sometimes, someone would insert a fun item, maybe even a mix-and-match game people could get involved in. This sheet was eventually discontinued, as workloads increased and time was used for other more productive things. But I really missed it; I think it kind of brought us closer together.

Early in my career at Vermont Rebuild, we became involved with a company called U.S. Repeating Arms (better known as Winchester). They had a plant in New Haven, Connecticut, and they had several machines that needed to be rebuilt and upgraded. Two of these were “cold formers” that they used to forge their gun barrels. One of these machines was originally built by Cincinnatti, the other was a Fellows product built here in Springfield. It was very interesting how these two companies design philosophy differed. The Cincinnatti unit was a single spindle machine with a 200 ton forging capacity. The Fellows machine was a twin spindle with a total capacity of 500 tons. I was assigned to be the project engineer on the Fellows machine.

One of the good things about the Fellows machine was the fact that Winchester had purchased all the engineering data from Fellows years before, so we had all the microfilm drawings to work with. The bad news was that Fellows only made seven or eight of these machines, and every one was different. We had quite a job reviewing the machine as it was being disassembled, and identifying which drawings were pertinent.

 

At the time of my hire, Craig had several local businessmen as investors in the company. We never knew just who they were, just rumors. It seemed to be some sort of a big secret, just as the meetings that Craig had occasionally with them. But one of the investors was also a monthly visitor to our company. I am referring to Cecil Henn, a former Bryant manager, who would regularly visit to see how things were going and advise Craig on various items. He lived in Indiana, and drove to Vermont. Cecil was quite good at sitting down with us engineers and discussing his ideas on company structure. He was really the one who took the time to lay out a sort of company policy concerning the annual merit reviews and salary increases. Even then, we never really had anything written down as to job descriptions and salary ranges, like the big shops had. But at least we got to discuss our concerns, and Cecil gave each of us individual annual goals to work toward. These would be reviewed every year, and the reasons for success (or failure) would be discussed in detail.

The pay structure at Vermont Rebuild was almost impossible to nail down; each one of us would negotiate our salary at the time of hire. There was no hard and fast rule as to just what any position paid. That being said, nobody really knew (except the payroll person) just what anyone made. We were kept in the dark to prevent any possible friction between us. The floor personnel were paid hourly; office and management staff were on salary. There were no time clocks to punch, everyone was on the “Honor System”. We all made out weekly timesheets which our pay would be based on.

When I joined in 1991, the comment was made that my salary was based on a “40 hour week”. But a lot of this was never in writing. Later in my career, that comment changed to a “45 hour week”. Easy to do, if nothing is written down. There was talk about having an employee handbook written up, but I don’t remember ever seeing one.

If the mechanics on the floor were paid hourly, with time-and-a-half over 40 hours, the rest of us ended up with a salary based on 45 hours, and being paid straight time after that. So in effect, we had to “donate” 5 hours to the company before getting reimbursed. So if we worked, say, 50 hours, we were basically earning half pay for the last 10 hours. It was even more lopsided when it came to travel; the hourly people were paid for their travel time, salaried people were not. We were a non-union shop.

On the plus side, salaried folks had sick time and personal days paid. But, again, there was no written rule as to just how much sick or personal time each of us had; it was at management discretion. But I don’t remember anyone having a problem with this.

As with most of the shops in town, we got paid on Thursdays. It was an easy walk for me over to the bank in the plaza. If you had an account at the Maple Valley Credit Union, you could have some, or all of your pay sent there automatically.

Our engineering staff consisted of several Project Engineers, and a few Electrical Engineers. These electrical types would also be responsible for any software that needed to be done. Sometimes we had to hire outside help for the software part of the job, depending on its complexity. The Project Engineers were mainly mechanical type people, and usually had no real experience in circuitry design (although most understood the basics).

The first step in any project was to have a sit-down meeting with all the participants including the Project Engineer assigned to the job, the sales people, electrical engineering, and our CEO, Craig Barrett. Copies of the quote were compared with the customer purchase order, to make sure nothing was missing. At this point the assigned Project Engineer was given his customer contact information so he could introduce himself; usually an email would suffice, although on larger projects, there may be some travel requirements to meet face-to-face. To keep the customer informed, we usually would send pictures once a month to show progress. Most of the time this would satisfy the requirements, although they may also visit our plant from time to time.

Our automotive customers usually had very specific standards that we had to base our quote on; these might include brands of electrical, hydraulic, pneumatic or lubrication items we had to use. Sometimes, the same customer had different standards depending on where their particular factory was located (I.E. a Ford specification for Dearborn may be different than one for a Ford plant in Los Angeles). Usually these items were covered under “additional charges” on our quote, but sometimes they turned out to be surprises to us. To explain: we usually had only one person quoting a job, and many quotes for them to go thru. So it was virtually impossible to review some of these “Customer Specifications” in any great detail (some of these specs were many pages long, and covered all sorts of items). Things were missed in the initial quote, and when we received the purchase order, one of the first things the Project Engineer would do was to review the Customer Specifications again. Quite often he would uncover a few questionable items; we would discuss these internally, and our salesperson might go back to the customer to try and get some additional money. Sometimes this would work; sometimes the customer might waive the particular item on this project; but most of the time, because the purchase order was already issued, and we had accepted it, we were held accountable to supply it.

When the machinery was delivered to us, our shop floor people would unload it and place it on the floor. The project engineer would usually have some time to look it over before the disassembly process was started. Hopefully, by this time we would know the scope of the project, so any of the components that would not be reused could be put to one side (if the customer wanted them back), or discarded (if they did not).

As a company we relied on our local machine shops to work with us financially as our work load varied; this arrangement was beneficial to both parties. Because we did not have “Deep Pockets” like the bigger shops, we might ask our suppliers to extend credit as the situation demanded. Most did this where they could, extending billing dates beyond the normal 30 days. But some of the smaller outfits just couldn’t afford to; we didn’t write them off as a source, just tried to go elsewhere for our parts. In the end, all our local vendors were paid as soon as we had a successful runoff with our customer. After all, we needed these folks down the line when more work came in.

Most of our quotes contained a clause for a “down payment” upon awarding of the contract. But some customers would not advance monies to us as their company policy. It was up to us to accept this or not; many times, because we were low on work, we would accept a job with no up-front money. This is where it became extremely important to complete the job quickly so as to not alienate our local suppliers. Unfortunately, we usually ended up with hard feelings somewhere, and possibly loosing a valuable supplier.

Our mechanics were supplied with work clothes with personal nametags. These would be exchanged each week for clean ones, an ongoing cycle. Shop rags were also supplied, the familiar orange cloth squares that were used in all the shops. These also were exchanged every week for clean ones. Machine rebuilding is a dirty, nasty job. Sometimes the incoming machines would be steam cleaned by the customer before they were shipped to us, but not always. Putty knives were the preferred tool of choice to scrape off the majority of grease and sludge, which was put into 55 gallon drums for disposal. This was an “additional charge” item that we billed to the customer, as we had to pay for its disposal (sometimes the customer would opt to have these filled drums shipped back to them with the finished machine). We had a heated dip tank that could accommodate the larger machine parts, but certainly not any beds or bases. Those had to be steam cleaned over a grated pit in the floor; any residue would drop into the pit, where it was later extracted and drummed up. When the heater in the dip tank was used overnight, a fog would greet us in the morning, the result of vapors from the alkaline solution. We would have to turn on the extractor fan in the paint booth to clear the air. I’m sure that was not healthy for anyone.

Most of the time we used a two-part epoxy paint on the machinery, with the colors varying from customer to customer. Usually it was a standard machine tool gray, with OSHA orange used on guards that covered moving parts (like vee belt drives). A lot of the machinery we rebuilt predated any OSHA regulations, so we would have to design guarding that would pass those rules. This also might involve mounting interlocking electrical safety switches so the machine would not run with the guards removed.

When work was slow in engineering, as I mentioned in the previous essay, I would be given some “time off”. The state of Vermont had a rule relating to “furloughed” personnel, as they called us. If your employer planned to call you back, you didn’t have to seek an alternative job. I would say that this rule applied to virtually all of us who got “furloughed”. The unemployment check was pretty much automatic (after a one week delay). But of course the dollar amount was not nearly the same. Some of our workers were young folks with families, so they were forced to seek employment elsewhere if the furlough lasted more than a few weeks. As a result, we did lose some good people over the years because they couldn’t “weather the storm”.

One of the most rewarding parts of being a Project Engineer at Vermont Rebuild (at least in my early years), was the fact that we were involved in all aspects of our assigned project. One of my favorite parts was travelling to the various small machine shops in the area to do the “meet and greet” with these folks. We had to see just what their capabilities were, so that we could decide what jobs we could send to them. A machine rebuild / retrofit might include several dozen new parts that needed to be made; and of course on a rebuild, there will probably be some existing parts that will be reused or reworked. These reused parts may need to be repaired; quite often round parts or shafting will have worn areas that will need to be built up with chrome and reground. We had the capability in-house to do most of these items, and usually the plating would be done in-town, at Springfield Electroplate. Our shop machining capabilities were quite limited, so we “farmed out” most of our work. Besides a couple of OD grinders, we had a Bridgeport milling machine, a band saw, and a large way grinder. And if you remember the story about the cobblers kids who had no shoes, it kind of applied to us, too. These machines (especially the way grinder), needed a skilled operator who knew the machine intimately, to get good results. You kind of had to know where to place the part on the table, and hold your head just so while traversing the wheel. Then maybe you would be OK (but only maybe……….).

All of our sheet metal work was done outside. There were several shops around that could provide what we needed, and we would decide who  got the work based on 1) price, and 2) delivery. Our “go to” sheet metal shop was usually JSP Fabrications in Charlestown, but we also used Meadowbrook (also in Charlestown). In my early days, we sometimes used a company in Tilton, New Hampshire, for sheet metal items. The owner was Stan Hodgeman, a former J&L man who worked in the “Tin Shop”, as we called sheet metal at J&L. He had a rocky relationship with our owner, and finally refused to do work for us. This was not an uncommon problem.

When I first joined Vermont Rebuild, most of the design work was still being done with paper and pencil. We had a motley assortment of drafting equipment, inherited from some of the now defunct machine tool industries in town. But we were in the process of purchasing computer drafting equipment; this project advanced as funds were available. Having an electronic design capability would greatly improve our productivity (after we went thru the learning curve). Most of the engineering staff were located on the second floor, with a pretty decent view of the Black River and the dam. Watching the ice go out in the spring was a big event for us.

There was no real “standard” as far as drafting practices were concerned. But because most of us were former J&L employees, we tended to drift toward what we were used to. We had both a J&L standards book, and drafting manual. When we hired any new engineers, we gave them these volumes and had them review them. We had no central checking capability, so each engineer was on his own (although I tried to channel each one of us in the same general direction). In the early days, all engineering drawings used a numbering system unique to Vermont Rebuild, but based on J&L practices. Details were assigned a “VR” number, and assemblies used a “VRA” prefix. All the assembly lists were hand written, and commercial hardware was described as it appeared in the vendor catalogs (I.E. a fastener would be called out as “hex head screw, 1/4-20 x 3.00”). Because these hand written  lists were not “computerized”, we had no problem with nomenclature. We did not assign Vermont Rebuild numbers to commercial items (this would change big time when we later adopted a computerized inventory system). All the drawings we created were placed in numbered filing cabinets, and when a job was released, these were used to create prints for manufacture (one for the vendor, one for our incoming inspecting area). We had no microfilming capability, unlike the big shops in town.

As business improved, we would advertise in various papers for help. Some of the resumes we received were quite shocking; I remember one in particular, a Russian woman who was degreed, and seemed to be very desperate to find work in this country. As usual, we interviewed her face-to-face, and came away with more than  a little concern about probable communication problems. In the end, we did not hire her. Of all the people we hired, we did have some notable failures over the years, those who just could not at least try to conform to the Company Goals.

Almost from the beginning, our work flow would be either overwhelming, or lacking; because the company did not have “Deep Pockets”, they could not afford to pay their help when there was no work. There would be temporary layoffs in various areas of the plant, including engineering. By this time our children had left home, and I did not mind having a few extra weeks off. I would receive a check from the Unemployment Office, after the normal one week delay.

The quoting function at Vermont Rebuild was usually just one person. In the beginning, it was Dave Spencer, a former J&L grinder salesperson. After Dave retired, Andrew Searle (likewise, a J&L guy) stepped in. These people would review the customers requests, and, based on previous history, work up a quote. Because a rebuild job is very different than a new machine build, engineering may be consulted for their input. If there was no previous history, we would use the SWAG approach (after all, we collectively had more than a few years of experience under our belt).

There was a clause in all of our quotes stating that the price quoted did not include any unknown major problems, such as broken castings, etc.. These would be addressed later, as the machine was disassembled. But more times than not, we seemed to accumulate a list of what we called “extra charges”, unforeseen problems, that we tried to collect extra money from the customer. Most of the time some “bargaining” was done to at least recover some of our costs.

Quite often someone from the plant would travel to the customers site and look at the machinery to be rebuilt. But there were often surprises that appeared as we disassembled the machinery back in our plant. Sometimes we were lucky enough to have machine manuals provided by our customer.  Quite often we had to search the internet to find, and purchase, proper documentation. The disassembly process is quite slow if the internal makeup of a mechanism is unknown. In more than one instance we had close calls when spring loaded parts were released suddenly by a mechanic who had no warning.

We had several engineers on staff when I joined the company in 1991. At that time, a Project Engineers responsibilities included 1) being the main contact with the customer, 2)doing the basic design layout work, 3)detailing all the parts necessary to build the mechanisms , 4)sending these drawings out to various machine shops for competitive bids, 5)selecting the winning bids, 6)writing all purchase orders for these parts, 7)monitoring the progress of the work  on the assembly floor, 8)keeping track of parts coming in from vendors. Plus, working with the mechanics on the assembly floor as they disassembled, inspected, and tagged worn parts that would be reused.

I should point out that we did very little pure “rebuilding” of machinery; our specialty (and most customer requests) involved updating of the equipment. This might include the addition of new numerical controls and electronics, along with mechanical modifications to add servomotor drives to the major slides; additions of precision ball screws in place of the old acme type; additions of automatic lubrication systems, hydraulics or pneumatics; new machine guarding in place of the old (some machinery was so old there were no real “guards”). Working at Vermont Rebuild allowed an engineer to experience a large variety of work, we never knew just what was coming thru the doors, lathes, grinders, gear shapers and hobs, comparators, cold formers, etc.

 

Along about August of 1991 I received a phone call from Craig Barrett, owner of Vermont Rebuild in Springfield. I had known Craig for some years, although not too well. He would come into the lobby at J&L to get information on some J&L machinery he was rebuilding. At the time, his business was located across from where the fire station is now, in one of those buildings, and J&L was still open. When he called me, he had bought a building on the end of Pearl Street, and the business was growing. He offered me a job in engineering, and after an interview, and some negotiations, I accepted.

Over the two years I worked in Lebanon, I had felt somewhat detached from happenings in Springfield; plus, the commute was wearing on me. Quite often I would be asked to work Saturday mornings, and driving back and forth from Lebanon for a five hour stint was a drag. Plus the aforementioned lack of walking space. All in all, it was time for me to come back to town. As it turned out, I would work the remainder of my career at Vermont Rebuild.

Vermont Rebuild had many former J&L people employed, so I felt right at home. My first job was as a project engineer on a J&L E2 grinder. The mechanic on the job was a former J&L guy, Harold Maxwell. He was originally from Arkansas, so he was known by the nickname “Reb”. Although I seldom heard anyone call him that to his face. A former military boy, his shirt nametag was labeled “Maxwell”. It took me a while to understand that he called most of his friends by their last names, me included. I had spent time in the grinder engineering department at J&L, so I was familiar with the machine he was working on. Vermont Rebuild did not build new machinery, they filled a necessary void by rebuilding and retrofitting older machinery. In the past, rebuilding of machinery was discouraged by the big shops….it was easier (and more profitable) to sell new equipment. Rebuilding a machine does require a different approach; the older machines are usually poorly maintained, worn out, and dirty. Cleaning out all the old oils and crud is not a pleasant thing to do, and the results have to be placed in steel drums and labeled “Hazardous Waste”. Then the company has to pay someone to truck them away.

The basic structure of Vermont Rebuild was somewhat loose: 1) President and CEO; 2) Sales and Quoting; 3) Electrical and mechanical engineering; 4) Office staff; 5) Electrical and mechanical assembly (with a foreman). There was no supervision in engineering, we just worked informally as a team. There was no Purchasing department when I joined, although one was added later. We usually had a short meeting every morning with the CEO, where we discussed the current projects, and their status. The secretary jotted down notes and typed up a summery sheet. Every few days we would reconvene and repeat. Any project that may have problems would be discussed in detail, with only the affected personnel and the CEO attending.

New Jersey Machine participated in the International Packaging Show in Chicago (held every two years). This event is held at McCormick Place, the same venue as the Machine Tool Show I had attended when at J&L. Being there again, but with vastly different machinery, was quite an experience. Labeling, packaging, carton assembly machines, shrink wrap devices, the variety of equipment present was overwhelming.

When I was at NJM (1990-1991), the company was owned by a Swiss firm, SIG. During my tenure, they celebrated their 100th anniversary; every employee (worldwide) received a check for 100 Swiss francs, as a “bonus”. We also had annual company sponsored summer picnics at the Hartland Dam, and an elaborate Christmas party.

Before joining NJM, I had gotten into the habit of walking most every lunchtime. But because the company was located on Etna Road, a narrow two lane with no sidewalks, walking was hazardous. There are several high tech companies located on this road, and traffic was heavy. Because of that, most of my walking took place in our parking lot.

New Jersey Machine had a flex hours policy, where an employee could come in anytime between 7:00 and 9:00 in the morning, and work until their daily hour assignment was complete. This worked quite well for me in the summer, as I rode a motorcycle to work whenever possible; I could ride several routes coming and going, to vary my routine. Most of the time I stayed off I91, and used route 5 in Vermont, or route 12 or 120 in New Hampshire. Sometimes I would ride route 106 to Woodstock, and up thru Quechee, crossing the river in West Lebanon.

The company had a policy of working a lot of overtime; many of the assembly crew had been working 50-60 hours a week for years. So of course their household budgets were based on this income. When business started to slow down, many found themselves extended too far financially. Some of this slowdown was the result of a new company policy “farming out” machining work that had been done in-house. Most of the machinery we had was sold off for various reasons. This kind of reasoning usually backfires, as the company looses control over the processes necessary to keep to a build schedule. And that was what happened; a decline began that continued long after I left; the company was “bought back” by a group of NJM executives; the new owners sold off some of the product lines to raise capital; I don’t know how long they were able to keep going, but I do know they were purchased by a Canadian firm; I don’t believe there is anything left of NJM in Lebanon now.

Over the years labeling technology has advanced so that most labels are now self-adhesive; they are attached to a large roll of slick surfaced paper, which is then loaded into the labeling machine at the point of application. The slick surfaced paper allows the label to be easily peeled off the roll and onto the bottle. Even though the self adhesive label is more expensive, it eliminates the separate glue station and related maintenance. In the end, it’s less cost per label.

There are several layers of complexity when it comes to labeling a bottle; the easiest is one that involves just one label, and no requirement for orientation (I.E. application of the label can be anywhere on the circumference of the bottle). Then comes the bottle that has a specific area for the label; this will require a mechanical device to orient / line up the bottle to the labeling magazine. Then comes the double label bottle, where there will be two magazines, each with there own roll of labels (front / back). There are variations of bottle designs which may require rotation of the bottle during labeling (if the label is a full wrap). Another fairly recent advance is the heat shrink neck band that is used to prevent tampering. This item is slipped onto the top of the bottle, and shrunk on using a heat source, usually steam. No adhesive required.

One of my first jobs at New Jersey Machine was to work on an experimental hot glue labeling machine. Hot glue is a very “aggressive” adhesive (it sticks items together almost instantly). Hot glue is used extensively for beverage containers where items move quickly thru the line (I.E. your beer and soda six-packs). But hot glue is dangerous; the results can be severe burns from contacting the glue on skin surfaces. Product development time is long, because adjustments to the machinery cannot be made quickly (the machine must cool down before the mechanics can work on it). In the end, this project was abandoned.

Besides the product labeling line, New Jersey Machine also had a line of boxing machines. These machines took a product and inserted it into a carton / box; many of our customers were candy makers (Hershey, Mars as an example). Although the public buys candy bars individually, they are sold wholesale to stores in boxes of 10 or 20. When a machine runoff was scheduled, the customer would send us hundreds of candy bars to use to set up and run off the machine for acceptance. After run off, these candy bars could not be sold, so they would be given to the employees (one of the benefits of working there). I remember bringing a big bag of candy home around Holloween time; we didn’t have to buy any that year.

An explanation: A “machine runoff” takes place after the machine has been built. This is when the customer comes into the plant and observes the actual performance of his machine. Usually a somewhat tense time, because if the machine does not operate to their expectations, they may not accept it; it means more time (and costs) will be needed to fix whatever they feel is deficient (I.E. less profit for us).