A Tale of Two Cities
http://www.aarpmagazine.org/money/laid_off_hometown_pa_video<--watch the video
Hometown, Pennsylvania, a village of 1,400 people, is leafy and tranquil, with midcentury homes and a firehouse that used to host children's Halloween parties. There's a sprawling flea market on Wednesdays. Next to that, an asphalt driveway leads to the abandoned J. E. Morgan Knitting Mills plant. The factory employed 1,200 people in its heyday, when it produced most of the nation's thermal underwear. It provided jobs at a time when industries such as coal, steel, and explosives were waning. "I don't think anybody got rich working at Morgan's," says the Reverend Fred Crawford III, a local Lutheran minister. "But it was steady, and it was a livable wage."
Then, in 1999, Sara Lee bought Morgan Mills and continued producing long underwear. The new owner told workers their jobs were safe-but within a year the plant started shifting some of its production to El Salvador and Honduras. Employees who had envisioned one day retiring from Morgan Mills instead found themselves called into the cafeteria, shift by shift, to receive news of their layoffs. In 2003 Sara Lee sent the remaining 460 production workers on their way. It was the final blow.
For Remel Durilla, 60, who had worked in Morgan Mills' sewing department since she was 19, it was unfortunate timing. Her husband, George, had recently died, and her adolescent son was still living at home. "I had all this responsibility, and where was I going to get the money?" she asks. She couldn't afford to return to school, even with government help. "The numbers didn't add up," she says. Durilla eventually found a job at a Walmart 30 minutes away, unloading trucks and stocking shelves during the midnight shift. She worked a second full-time job at a liquid-soap factory, where she inspected bottles. When her son moved away from Hometown, so did she.
Part-time jobs, lower wages, midnight shifts, longer commutes-this is the new norm in places like Hometown. And it's not just workers who suffer. Even those who have never set foot in the Morgan Mills plant feel the pinch. Hometown residents are paying higher utility taxes, for instance, since the factory closed, because there aren't as many people left to support the area's infrastructure. This puts a strain on neighbors living on fixed incomes. Local businesses are struggling. For many older residents, though, the hardest change has been watching their children move away in search of career opportunities.
Two miles downhill from Hometown is the former coal town of Tamaqua, which in 1960 had 10,200 residents. Today 6,700 live there. Many young people leave after graduation. "I believe my son will end up in the same situation," says Stan Huegel, 50, a former Morgan Mills supervisor who now works at a sportswear manufacturing plant an hour from his home. "He'll go to college in two years. I don't see him coming back."
Mary Louise Zimmerman moved to Hometown in 1972. She's watched what happens when a generation leaves. "The support systems that were here because of the plant, because of opportunities-they're gone now," says Zimmerman, 63. "People who depended on a daughter, a son, they don't have them anymore, because there's nothing to keep them here. In addition to losing their income, their insurance, they've lost their family-a far greater loss than you can even account for." -Barry Yeoman
Hometown, Pennsylvania, a village of 1,400 people, is leafy and tranquil, with midcentury homes and a firehouse that used to host children's Halloween parties. There's a sprawling flea market on Wednesdays. Next to that, an asphalt driveway leads to the abandoned J. E. Morgan Knitting Mills plant. The factory employed 1,200 people in its heyday, when it produced most of the nation's thermal underwear. It provided jobs at a time when industries such as coal, steel, and explosives were waning. "I don't think anybody got rich working at Morgan's," says the Reverend Fred Crawford III, a local Lutheran minister. "But it was steady, and it was a livable wage."
Then, in 1999, Sara Lee bought Morgan Mills and continued producing long underwear. The new owner told workers their jobs were safe-but within a year the plant started shifting some of its production to El Salvador and Honduras. Employees who had envisioned one day retiring from Morgan Mills instead found themselves called into the cafeteria, shift by shift, to receive news of their layoffs. In 2003 Sara Lee sent the remaining 460 production workers on their way. It was the final blow.
For Remel Durilla, 60, who had worked in Morgan Mills' sewing department since she was 19, it was unfortunate timing. Her husband, George, had recently died, and her adolescent son was still living at home. "I had all this responsibility, and where was I going to get the money?" she asks. She couldn't afford to return to school, even with government help. "The numbers didn't add up," she says. Durilla eventually found a job at a Walmart 30 minutes away, unloading trucks and stocking shelves during the midnight shift. She worked a second full-time job at a liquid-soap factory, where she inspected bottles. When her son moved away from Hometown, so did she.
Part-time jobs, lower wages, midnight shifts, longer commutes-this is the new norm in places like Hometown. And it's not just workers who suffer. Even those who have never set foot in the Morgan Mills plant feel the pinch. Hometown residents are paying higher utility taxes, for instance, since the factory closed, because there aren't as many people left to support the area's infrastructure. This puts a strain on neighbors living on fixed incomes. Local businesses are struggling. For many older residents, though, the hardest change has been watching their children move away in search of career opportunities.
Two miles downhill from Hometown is the former coal town of Tamaqua, which in 1960 had 10,200 residents. Today 6,700 live there. Many young people leave after graduation. "I believe my son will end up in the same situation," says Stan Huegel, 50, a former Morgan Mills supervisor who now works at a sportswear manufacturing plant an hour from his home. "He'll go to college in two years. I don't see him coming back."
Mary Louise Zimmerman moved to Hometown in 1972. She's watched what happens when a generation leaves. "The support systems that were here because of the plant, because of opportunities-they're gone now," says Zimmerman, 63. "People who depended on a daughter, a son, they don't have them anymore, because there's nothing to keep them here. In addition to losing their income, their insurance, they've lost their family-a far greater loss than you can even account for." -Barry Yeoman