NY Times September 19, 2013
U.S. Textile Plants Return, With Floors Largely Empty of People
By STEPHANIE CLIFFORD

GAFFNEY, S.C. — The old textile mills here are mostly gone now. Gaffney 
Manufacturing, National Textiles, Cherokee — clangorous, dusty, 
productive engines of the Carolinas fabric trade — fell one by one to 
the forces of globalization.

Just as the Carolinas benefited when manufacturing migrated first from 
the Cottonopolises of England to the mill towns of New England and then 
to here, where labor was even cheaper, they suffered in the 1990s when 
the textile industry mostly left the United States.

It headed to China, India, Mexico — wherever people would spool, spin 
and sew for a few dollars or less a day. Which is why what is happening 
at the old Wellstone spinning plant is so remarkable.

Drive out to the interstate, with the big peach-shaped water tower just 
down the highway, and you’ll find the mill up and running again. 
Parkdale Mills, the country’s largest buyer of raw cotton, reopened it 
in 2010.

Bayard Winthrop, the founder of the sweatshirt and clothing company 
American Giant, was at the mill one morning earlier this year to meet 
with his Parkdale sales representative. Just last year, Mr. Winthrop was 
buying fabric from a factory in India. Now, he says, it is cheaper to 
shop in the United States. Mr. Winthrop uses Parkdale yarn from one of 
its 25 American factories, and has that yarn spun into fabric about four 
miles from Parkdale’s Gaffney plant, at Carolina Cotton Works.

Mr. Winthrop says American manufacturing has several advantages over 
outsourcing. Transportation costs are a fraction of what they are 
overseas. Turnaround time is quicker. Most striking, labor costs — the 
reason all these companies fled in the first place — aren’t that much 
higher than overseas because the factories that survived the outsourcing 
wave have largely turned to automation and are employing far fewer workers.

And while Mr. Winthrop did not run into such problems, monitoring worker 
safety in places like Bangladesh, where hundreds of textile workers have 
died in recent years in fires and other disasters, has become a huge 
challenge in terms of monitoring workers’ safety. “When I framed the 
business, I wasn’t saying, ‘From the cotton in the ground to the 
finished product, this is going to be all American-made,’ ” he said. “It 
wasn’t some patriotic quest.”

Instead, he said, the road to Gaffney was all about protecting his 
bottom line.

That simple, if counterintuitive, example is changing both Gaffney and 
the American textile and apparel industries.

In 2012, textile and apparel exports were $22.7 billion, up 37 percent 
from just three years earlier. While the size of operations remain 
behind those of overseas powers like China, the fact that these 
industries are thriving again after almost being left for dead is 
indicative of a broader reassessment by American companies about 
manufacturing in the United States.

In 2012, the M.I.T. Forum for Supply Chain Innovation and the 
publication Supply Chain Digest conducted a joint survey of 340 of their 
members. The survey found that one-third of American companies with 
manufacturing overseas said they were considering moving some production 
to the United States, and about 15 percent of the respondents said they 
had already decided to do so.

“This is a completely different manufacturing paradigm than what we saw 
10 years ago,” said David Simchi-Levi, a professor at M.I.T. who 
conducted the survey.

Beyond the cost and time benefits, companies often get a boost with 
consumers by promoting American-made products, according to a survey 
conducted in January by The New York Times.

The survey found that 68 percent of respondents preferred products made 
in the United States, even if they cost more, and 63 percent believed 
they were of higher quality. Retailers from Walmart to Abercrombie & 
Fitch are starting to respond to those sentiments, creating sections for 
American-made items and sourcing goods domestically.

But as manufacturers find that American-made products are not only 
appealing but affordable, they are also finding the business landscape 
has changed. Two decades of overseas production has decimated factories 
here. Between 2000 and 2011, on average, 17 manufacturers closed up shop 
every day across the country, according to research from the Information 
Technology and Innovation Foundation.

Now, companies that want to make things here often have trouble finding 
qualified workers for specialized jobs and American-made components for 
their products. And politicians’ promises that American manufacturing 
means an abundance of new jobs is complicated — yes, it means jobs, but 
on nowhere near the scale there was before, because machines have 
replaced humans at almost every point in the production process.

Take Parkdale: The mill here produces 2.5 million pounds of yarn a week 
with about 140 workers. In 1980, that production level would have 
required more than 2,000 people.

Curse of Long Distance

When Bayard Winthrop founded American Giant, he knew precisely what he 
wanted to make: thick sweatshirts like the one from the Navy that his 
father used to wear.

They required a dry “hand feel,” so the fabric would not seem greasy to 
the touch, and a soft, heavily plucked underside. Mr. Winthrop had 
already produced sportswear overseas, so he looked there for the 
advanced techniques and affordable pricing he needed.

He wanted to sell his hooded sweatshirt for around $80, between the $10 
Walmart version, made in China, and the $125 Polo Ralph Lauren version, 
made in Peru. He was insistent on cutting and sewing the sweatshirts in 
the United States — a company called American Giant couldn’t do that 
part overseas, he felt — but wasn’t picky about where the fabric came from.

With the help of a consultant, he settled on a mill in Haryana, India, 
that could make the desired fabric. After several months of 
back-and-forth, Mr. Winthrop was ready to ship his first sweatshirts in 
February 2012.

But he was frustrated with the quality, and the lengthy process. By 
October of last year, Mr. Winthrop had moved production to South 
Carolina. Now it takes just a month or so, start to finish, to get a 
sweatshirt to a customer.

“We just avoid so many big and small stumbles that invariably happen 
when you try to do things from far away,” he said. “We would never be 
where we are today if we were overseas. Nowhere close.”

The problems in India were cultural, bureaucratic and practical.

Time was foremost among them. The Indian mill needed too much time — 
three to five months — to perfect its designs, send samples, schedule 
production, ship the fabric to the United States and get it through 
customs. Mr. Winthrop was hesitant to predict demand that far in advance.

There were also communication issues. Mr. Winthrop would send the Indian 
factory so-called tech packs that detailed exactly what kind of fabric 
he wanted and what variations he would allow. But even with photos and 
drawings, the roll-to-roll variance was big. And he couldn’t afford to 
fly to India regularly, or hire someone to monitor production there.

He also found that suppliers deferred to his wishes, rather than being 
frank about some of his choices, which weren’t, he conceded, always good 
ones.

“I’m a supporter of outsourcing when it makes sense,” he said. But it 
had stopped making sense.

Now that production has shifted to the United States, Mr. Winthrop says 
those problems have disappeared. Mr. Winthrop and his team visit 
Carolina Cotton Works and Parkdale whenever they want, check on quality 
and toss ideas around with the managers. And, he says, the cost is less 
than in India.

Where Mr. Winthrop relies on labor — the cutting and sewing of the 
sweatshirts, which he does in five factories in California and North 
Carolina — is where the costs jump up. That costs his company around $17 
for a given sweatshirt; overseas, he says, it would cost $5.50.

But truth be told, labor is not a big ingredient in the manufacturing 
uptick in the United States, textiles or otherwise. Indeed, the absence 
of high-paid American workers in the new factories has made the revival 
possible.

“Most of our costs are power-related,” said Dan Nation, a senior 
Parkdale executive.

March of the Machines

Step inside Parkdale Mills, and prepare to be overwhelmed by machines.

The ceilings are high and the machines stretch city block after city 
block — this one tossing around bits of cotton to clean them, that one 
taking four-millimeter layers from different bales to blend them.

Only infrequently does a person interrupt the automation, mainly because 
certain tasks are still cheaper if performed by hand — like moving 
half-finished yarn between machines on forklifts. Beyond that, there is 
little that resembles the mills of just a few decades ago.

Tell people about a textile plant and “their image is ‘Norma Rae,’ and 
everyone’s sick and dirty and coughing and it’s terrible,” said Mike 
Hubbard, vice president of the National Council of Textile Organizations.

Not here. The air-cleaning room, where air is washed 6.5 times an hour 
to get contaminants out, could be a modern-art installation, with liquid 
raining into pools of water. Along the ceiling, moving racks like those 
at a dry cleaner snake throughout the factory, carrying the finished 
yarn to a machine for packaging and shipping. That machine has enough 
lights and outlets on it that it resembles a music studio soundboard.

For Parkdale, the new technology has been its salvation.

Founded in 1916, Parkdale is the largest buyer of raw cotton in the 
United States. In the 1960s, when its current chairman, Duke Kimbrell, 
took over, it was a single plant with a couple of hundred workers.

Seeing that other plants in the area were streamlining their businesses 
and ceasing to make their own yarn, Parkdale supplied yarn to nearby 
manufacturers like Hanesbrands. Business flourished, and Parkdale 
acquired competitors and soared until the 1990s.

That’s when its clients started fleeing the United States.

The North American Free Trade Agreement in 1994 was the first blow, 
erasing import duties on much of the apparel produced in Mexico. The 
Asian financial crisis in the late 1990s, when currencies collapsed, 
added a 30 to 40 percent discount to already cheaper overseas products, 
textile executives said. China joined the World Trade Organization in 
2001 and quickly became an apparel powerhouse, and as of 2005, the 
W.T.O. eliminated textile quotas.

In 1991, American-made apparel accounted for 56.2 percent of all the 
clothing bought domestically, according to the American Apparel and 
Footwear Association. By 2012, it accounted for 2.5 percent. Over all, 
the American manufacturing sector lost 32 percent of its jobs, 5.8 
million of them, between 1990 and 2012, according to Bureau of Labor 
Statistics data. The textile and apparel subsectors were hit even 
harder, losing 76.5 percent of their jobs, or 1.2 million.

“With all the challenges that we’ve had with cheap imports, we knew in 
order to survive we’d have to take technology as far as we could,” said 
Anderson Warlick, Parkdale’s chief executive.

The company began meeting with machine manufacturers, doing trial runs 
of equipment and offering feedback and debugging, so it got dibs on the 
newest technology. It looked for business opportunities in the countries 
where its customers were heading, those in Central America in 
particular, and now 75 percent of its business is in exports.

Over all, the company employs 4,000 people, its biggest work force ever, 
but it is technology that has made it competitive.

“We’ve been able to be effective here because we invested in our 
manufacturing to the point that labor is not as big of an issue as far 
as total cost as it once was,” Mr. Warlick said. “It’s allowed us to be 
able to compete more effectively with foreign countries that pay, you 
know, a fraction of what we pay in wages. We compete with them on 
technology and productivity.”

Back From the Dead

All that automation has made working in the mill — which once meant 
mostly dead-end jobs for people with no other options — desirable for 
many people.

Howard Taggert, 86, got his first mill job in 1948 after high school. 
“By being a color, yeah, you’ve got the worst jobs there was in 
textile,” said Mr. Taggert, who is African-American. “It was rough, but 
it was a living. We made a living.”

He started by opening cotton bales, which involved striking an ax onto a 
metal tie around the bales — a dangerous job, given that a spark from 
metal striking metal could ignite a room full of cotton. The dust was so 
thick that he couldn’t see to the next aisle, he said. He was paid 87 
cents an hour.

“I had to. I didn’t have no other choice,” he said of working in the mills.

The work was so bad that Mr. Taggert refused to let his children go into 
mill work. He might be surprised to hear about Donna McKoy, who went 
back to work in a mill even after earning an associate degree in 
criminal justice.

Ms. McKoy, 47, lost her job at Continental Fabrics in North Carolina in 
the early 2000s, “when everything was downsizing and going over to 
China.” In 2001 alone, textile plants in the Carolinas eliminated 15,000 
jobs. The sense of desperation was palpable, Ms. McKoy said.

“Now what?” she remembers asking herself before she decided to go to 
college.

After a headhunter contacted her in 2007, she became a supervisor at 
Parkdale, overseeing a night shift of 11 workers. The work — and the 
workplace — are barely recognizable compared with her job a decade ago. 
A couple of things struck her right away. First, the mill was clean. 
“Most open-end spinning plants that have the older model spinning frames 
in them are really dirty and dusty and not fun to be around,” she said. 
Thanks to the new technology, “my plant is always clean.”

Second, Ms. McKoy got training. For her first eight months, Parkdale 
paid for hotels, food, dry-cleaning and gas for trips home as she 
rotated around different factories and learned all of the jobs. And 
there were fewer people. Ms. McKoy now works at a plant in Walnut Cove, 
N.C., which she described as a smaller version of the Gaffney plant. On 
a typical 12-hour shift, Ms. McKoy said, two of the 11 people on her 
team fix the spinning machines about 4,000 times, with robots’ help.

She earns $47,000 a year and says the perks are good, like health care, 
an in-house nurse and monthly management classes for supervisors. She 
recently bought a three-bedroom house and owns a car.

“I have a comfortable life,” she said. “With this recession that we just 
had, I didn’t feel it.”

Still, some Parkdale employees worry about the future. They’ve seen too 
much hardship in the textile industry to be overly hopeful about a real 
turnaround.

Scott Symmonds, 40, of Galax, Va., works as a technician for two plants 
in the area. He never planned on manufacturing work, but after time in 
the National Guard in Iraq, his home went into foreclosure and he had 
trouble getting work because of his low credit score and lack of a 
college degree. As a teenager in rural Iowa, he knew people who worked 
in manufacturing and watched two plants go out of business.

“I saw how they would come home dirty, smelly and often injured,” he 
said. “I didn’t want that.”

But he needed a job, and Parkdale was hiring. Mr. Symmonds started as a 
spinner, then got a job on the packing line, and then snagged a 
technician’s job after a technical-aptitude test. He earns $15 an hour, 
which he says is better than what competitors pay. He fears, though, 
that his higher pay could become a liability.

“We are making far more money than our counterparts in China or other 
nations,” he said. “We can’t afford to take a big enough cut in pay to 
be on an even level with those places.”


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