Months After Plant Closed, Many Still Struggling
It has been 10 months since most of the workers walked out of the plain, low-slung factory here for the final time. The building, which had been home to the Manchester Tool Company since just after World War II, sits dormant now, a “for sale or lease” sign in front, buried recently in a fresh snowfall.
But the fallout of the plant’s closure last year by Kennametal, a global conglomerate based in Latrobe, Pa., just a few months into the recession, continues to weigh heavily on the lives of the roughly 100 employees who lost their livelihoods.
“Some of us bounced back,” said Bill Luplow, 66, who worked on the shop floor of the industrial tool-making plant for nearly 45 years. “And some of us haven’t.”
In fact, an examination by The New York Times of the fates of the laid-off workers found that less than 15 percent of the hourly workers had steady jobs almost a year later.
Many of the rest are sliding perilously close to the economic precipice. Some let their health insurance lapse; others are in danger of losing their modest homes. A similar experience — or worse — may lie ahead for the hundreds of thousands of Americans who continue to lose their jobs every month.
Age seems to have played a role in the outcome for the Manchester employees. Many of the older hourly workers, some of whom had worked at the plant since graduating from high school, appear paralyzed, struggling with their self-confidence as they consider their bleak odds of finding work.
The machines they worked with at Manchester tended to be specific to that plant, and the skills to run them were not necessarily transferable. Many have resisted retraining, deciding it did not make sense. A few who tried found it too daunting.
At least seven mostly younger workers, on the other hand, decided to take advantage of federal grants to go back to school.
With more education and skills, the approximately 35 salaried employees at Manchester, including engineers, accountants and other office workers, appear to have fared better than their hourly counterparts. About a third were asked to stay on at least several more months with Kennametal; several remain with the company. In all, some 40 percent of them appear to be earning a regular paycheck, according to interviews.
Among the hourly workers, at least four who did manage to find jobs were laid off a second time recently because of the slowing economy. Even the lucky few who are still working typically found they had to accept a significant decrease in pay.
Unemployment insurance has proved to be a critical bridge for those who remain jobless. But the regular checks also prevented many from considering lower-paying jobs, once they calculated that they would be earning roughly the same amount.
Nonetheless, it is slowly sinking in that the middle-class lives they constructed at Manchester, in this suburb of Akron, may now be slipping from their grasp.
“I think it’s gone forever for a lot of people,” said John Foss, 50, who worked at the plant for 13 years, most recently as a stockroom clerk, and remains jobless.
Around the nation, 3.6 million jobs have been lost since the recession began in December 2007, including 1.1 million in manufacturing, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. A dismal report from the bureau last week showed job losses accelerating in January.
At Manchester, plant workers, represented by the United Steelworkers, earned $18 to $22 an hour, adding up to more than $50,000 a year in some cases with regular overtime. Workers averaged some 20 years on the job.
Mr. Foss, who started as a machinist at Manchester, applied for scores of jobs after his layoff, combing the newspaper and Internet and dropping in on employers to fill out applications. He has not heard back from anyone.
A job search he initially thought might take a few weeks has stretched into its 11th month. And his initial hopes of landing a job that paid close to the $18.12 an hour he used to make have faded. He now believes $8 to $12 an hour is more likely.
“Some days are worse than others,” Mr. Foss said. “Sometimes depression takes over more than other times.”
The balm for Mr. Foss has been that his wife, Marie, is still working as an office manager at a printing company, enabling them to cover their bills for now. Mrs. Foss has been screwing up her courage to ask her customers if they are hiring. One called her back recently and said he might have some openings this month, lifting her spirits.
“Today was a good day,” she said. “At least it was something to hope on.”
It has been 10 months since most of the workers walked out of the plain, low-slung factory here for the final time. The building, which had been home to the Manchester Tool Company since just after World War II, sits dormant now, a “for sale or lease” sign in front, buried recently in a fresh snowfall.
But the fallout of the plant’s closure last year by Kennametal, a global conglomerate based in Latrobe, Pa., just a few months into the recession, continues to weigh heavily on the lives of the roughly 100 employees who lost their livelihoods.
“Some of us bounced back,” said Bill Luplow, 66, who worked on the shop floor of the industrial tool-making plant for nearly 45 years. “And some of us haven’t.”
In fact, an examination by The New York Times of the fates of the laid-off workers found that less than 15 percent of the hourly workers had steady jobs almost a year later.
Many of the rest are sliding perilously close to the economic precipice. Some let their health insurance lapse; others are in danger of losing their modest homes. A similar experience — or worse — may lie ahead for the hundreds of thousands of Americans who continue to lose their jobs every month.
Age seems to have played a role in the outcome for the Manchester employees. Many of the older hourly workers, some of whom had worked at the plant since graduating from high school, appear paralyzed, struggling with their self-confidence as they consider their bleak odds of finding work.
The machines they worked with at Manchester tended to be specific to that plant, and the skills to run them were not necessarily transferable. Many have resisted retraining, deciding it did not make sense. A few who tried found it too daunting.
At least seven mostly younger workers, on the other hand, decided to take advantage of federal grants to go back to school.
With more education and skills, the approximately 35 salaried employees at Manchester, including engineers, accountants and other office workers, appear to have fared better than their hourly counterparts. About a third were asked to stay on at least several more months with Kennametal; several remain with the company. In all, some 40 percent of them appear to be earning a regular paycheck, according to interviews.
Among the hourly workers, at least four who did manage to find jobs were laid off a second time recently because of the slowing economy. Even the lucky few who are still working typically found they had to accept a significant decrease in pay.
Unemployment insurance has proved to be a critical bridge for those who remain jobless. But the regular checks also prevented many from considering lower-paying jobs, once they calculated that they would be earning roughly the same amount.
Nonetheless, it is slowly sinking in that the middle-class lives they constructed at Manchester, in this suburb of Akron, may now be slipping from their grasp.
“I think it’s gone forever for a lot of people,” said John Foss, 50, who worked at the plant for 13 years, most recently as a stockroom clerk, and remains jobless.
Around the nation, 3.6 million jobs have been lost since the recession began in December 2007, including 1.1 million in manufacturing, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. A dismal report from the bureau last week showed job losses accelerating in January.
At Manchester, plant workers, represented by the United Steelworkers, earned $18 to $22 an hour, adding up to more than $50,000 a year in some cases with regular overtime. Workers averaged some 20 years on the job.
Mr. Foss, who started as a machinist at Manchester, applied for scores of jobs after his layoff, combing the newspaper and Internet and dropping in on employers to fill out applications. He has not heard back from anyone.
A job search he initially thought might take a few weeks has stretched into its 11th month. And his initial hopes of landing a job that paid close to the $18.12 an hour he used to make have faded. He now believes $8 to $12 an hour is more likely.
“Some days are worse than others,” Mr. Foss said. “Sometimes depression takes over more than other times.”
The balm for Mr. Foss has been that his wife, Marie, is still working as an office manager at a printing company, enabling them to cover their bills for now. Mrs. Foss has been screwing up her courage to ask her customers if they are hiring. One called her back recently and said he might have some openings this month, lifting her spirits.
“Today was a good day,” she said. “At least it was something to hope on.”
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