Our shop was called 'Outgoing Quality Check' and we were a fairly tight knit bunch. Most of the people who worked with me were older, long-term, seasoned employees who had worked themselves up from the assembly line jobs they first hired in on, to became 'expert' in their particular specialties. One was an 'engine man', another was an expert on transmissions and drive trains, another was a front-end alignment specialist, and yet another was a 'body fit and trim' expert. The fifth man was relatively new and only washed and cleaned up the cars which some of the upper supervisors drove each day.
The way this worked, about a dozen random cars, 'jobs' as they were called, were selected right off the assembly line each week. These were delivered down to my shop, two or three units per day to be prepared for the assigned individuals to drive home and to wherever they wished to go with them. The supervisors would keep their units for a week, then the process would be repeated. Before delivery to the assigned drivers, the selected jobs would be prepared by my crew. They were washed, the front-end alignment checked, engine tune-up and specifications checked, and the fit of the hood, trunk, fenders and doors all checked to insure those were within GM specifications. Nothing was changed however, unless there was a safety issue. The gas tanks were filled from our own gas pumps, oil levels checked, etc. and our wash man would deliver to cars to the supervisor's assigned parking spot in front of the plant.
Part of this process also involved disconnecting the factory speedometer installed on the assembly line and installing a special, temporary speedometer mounted under the dash in the driver's line of sight. Unless there was an issue with the car, and there sometimes was, they were driven for the full week and refueled from the company gas pump as needed. When they were turned back in the temporary speedometer was removed, and the factory one re-connected. The supervisors driving the cars were supposed to complete a simple little report each time about deficiencies, or anything they noted during their use of the car. A summary of these reports went into my daily report to the head of the Inspection Department, who was my direct supervisor.
After the temporary speedometer was removed, the unit was simply re-inserted into the delivery schedule and shipped to the dealer.
I was impressed by General Motors' efforts on 'quality control' then, but always wondered about that bit of not-so-innocent subterfuge the company indulged in. We were sending out new cars right off the assembly line which had been driven in some cases, several hundreds of miles. yet the speedometer would show only half a dozen miles when the car was delivered to the ultimate purchaser. Several years later I heard of The Chrysler Corporation being fined millions of dollars for exactly the same thing, but to my knowledge General Motors has never been censured for this. I thought a few times about being a 'whistle blower' on this issue after I left GM, but was always restrained by my father's remembered advice: "If you can't say something good about something, just don't say anything at all."
I do remember several times during my time in that job of hearing of buyer complaints about cigarette butts in ash trays, mud on the undercarriage, or dirt and mud in the foot wells, etc. The factory used to ship out our new cars with the floor carpets un-installed, and rolled up in the trunk. The dealers would install them when they arrived at the dealers' lot, and I assume they usually cleaned things up before delivery to the customer. I guess the dealers simply missed those tale tell little signs when the cars were cleaned. Dealers routinely explained away and glossed over problems their customers might note. You must remember that the staff at any automobile dealer must possess really good lines of blather.
General Motors in the 'sixties was a brutal, absolutely no nonsense working environment with zero tolerance for anything which might even remotely reflect unfavorably on anyone in the higher levels of supervision. I merely tried to stay out of trouble and keep my immediate boss happy. I quickly learned after hiring on with GM, that there is no such thing as 'understanding' or 'compassion' with such a huge company. At that time in the mid-sixties, General Motors was the largest company in the world, though they have since been demoted I've heard. I suppose it is possible too, that the GM corporate culture has changed during the intervening fifty-something years. The successful onslaught of Japanese and Korean imports has certainly caused a lot of other changes for the American automobile industry.
I am calling this little story is 'The Man Who Knew Too Much', and spilling a few secrets here. However, I am not that man who knew too much.
No, that person is another man entirely. Let us call him 'Gregory' although that is not his real name. Greg ran a shop adjacent to and connected to my shop by a common wall. His responsibility was similar, but more involved with the actual nuts and bolts of how the General Motors line of cars and trucks hold up from an engineering standpoint. Often cars that went through my shop would be referred to Greg's shop for further analysis for example. What pieces and parts wear out too fast, break too quickly, need to be redesigned and all that sort of thing. Even the simplest of things might be a problem. For instance, we encountered problems with the the cast iron drainage plug for rear-end differentials. Some of these had flaws where the casting sand left a tiny hole which allowed a very slight fluid leak. Those tiny holes could lead to a failure of the entire rear end in time. Things like that were Greg's meat and potatoes.
Greg was a graduate of the General Motors Academy, which during the 'forties, 'fifties and 'sixties was GM's fully accredited four year college which offered a free-of-charge engineering degree to selected applicants who passed their qualifying examinations. I don't recall exactly how the program worked, but I had even briefly considered applying at one time in my young life. The reason I did not was the stipulation about being committed to employment with GM for a specified period of time after graduation, something like six or eight years as I remember. But, the opposite side of that arrangement did not apply. In other words, GM could fire you anytime they felt like it. Apparently, GM has dropped this program since I can not find anything online about it today.
Since Greg had no employment guarantee he was really sweating an interview all supervisors knew was coming from a "Hatchet Man". This is what everyone called the high-level manager sent from the Detroit home office to look over everything at our plant. The point being to improve efficiency, and trim the payroll if possible. Literally, this fellow was a corporate Hatchet Man sent to make needed and sometimes drastic changes. The man's official capacity when he arrived was 'Assistant Plant Manager'. But, his real job was to be a Hatchet Man. Everyone knew this well in advance of his arrival at our plant since the corporate grapevine is very, very effective you know. We even knew the man's name.
Within one week of the Hatchet Man's coming to our plant, some of the upper-level supervisors were receiving summary dismissals without notice. This guy was responsible for firing about 20% of the management within three weeks, in a plant with over 6000 employees. Everyone with a vested interest in their jobs in the corporation was terrified. A manager would be called upon in his office, quickly and brutally interviewed right there, and instantly dismissed. He would be asked for his keys, told to clean out his desk with plant security looking over his shoulder, and out the door he went. I really think the Hatchet Man had studied the files and had it all decided beforehand. He stayed at our plant a total of only six weeks in all, blowing through like a tornado leaving devastation in his wake.
The dreaded day came for Greg's interview and for me too. Since we were mere mid-level people we were being interviewed together in one sitting. The Hatchet Man asked Greg half a dozen quick, machine-gun style pertinent questions about his job and department's statistics. Greg was very well prepared since we had cooperated with each other by studying and quizzing each other. Greg knew all his answers and immediately fired right back. I was very impressed by his composure because he was a naturally nervous and high-strung guy. But then, right In the middle of all the rapid-fire questions and out of nowhere the Hatchet Man demanded or him, "So, what's your wife's name?"
Poor Gregory just went blank and sat staring in disbelief at the Hatchet Man, his lips moving but nothing coming out. I felt really sorry for him even if I was choking to laugh. The question was so far from left field it knocked the skids right out from under Greg's composure. He simply could not think of his own wife’s name! He stammered and choked for ten or fifteen seconds, and turned purple in the face with beads of sweat rolling off him like grapes before he could say, 'Mary' or whatever her name was. I could see the Hatchet Man was only having his own cruel fun messing with poor Greg's mind. He gave Greg a nasty laugh and then turned to me.
My own interview was easy and anti-climatic after Greg's performance. I was already thinking about leaving GM so I just didn't give a damn, although the Hatchet Man was not aware of that. I was relaxed and confident, especially after watching the ordeal the Hatchet Man put Greg through. The Hatchet Man just raised his eyebrows at me after a few questions and walked away. To his ultimate relief, Gregory was not cashiered on the spot and we both kept our jobs.
For as long as I live I will never forget that awful and funny day poor Gregory temporarily forgot his wife's name. It was both heartbreaking and hilariously funny at the same time even though I dared not laugh at the time. I haven't stayed in touch with Greg so I don’t know where he is today. He is retired I suppose if his job with GM lasted a full career or didn't kill him first. I was told the 'Hatchet Man' tradition was repeated on the average by GM roughly every two years or so and it is always possible another Hatchet Man collected Greg's scalp later too.
I'm pretty sure that one particular Hatchet Man is turning in his grave somewhere today as he was far too much of a type "A" to have lived a very long time. And even though I was in his presence for only a few minutes, I could still tell you his name to this very day if I wished to do so. I voluntarily left General Motors within a few months of that interview because I recognized that their corporate soul, or more to the point, their lack thereof, was definitely not my cup of tea. I have never had one single regret about that since either.
I even sold my stock in GM after leaving, the stock I had purchased under their employee stock purchase matching plan. As I recall GM pitched in a dollar for every dollar the employee paid.
*This is a true tale, told from my memory now well over fifty years after the events took place.
I even sold my stock in GM after leaving, the stock I had purchased under their employee stock purchase matching plan. As I recall GM pitched in a dollar for every dollar the employee paid.
*This is a true tale, told from my memory now well over fifty years after the events took place.
No comments:
Post a Comment
You may post anything you wish in comments. I guarantee all will be read. But, due to personal attacks and deliberate flaming, I will not agree to publish all comments.