This program is brought to you by the combined resources
of the Wisconsin Historical Society
and Wisconsin Public Television.
Narrator: On Wisconsin Hometown Stories
Two cities founded on the Lake Michigan shore
built up by a great maritime trade
and industries started
seemingly out of the blue.
Cities transformed by skilled labor
able to accomplish what few other communities could.
On Wisconsin Hometown Stories: Manitowoc / Two Rivers.
Wisconsin Hometown Stories: Manitowoc / Two Rivers
is made possible in part
by a principal gift from Ruth St. John and John Dunham West Foundation, Inc.
And major gifts from the Francis A. and Georgia F. Ariens Fund;
Burger Boat Company;
the Manitowoc Company;
the Jane and Arthur Stangel Fund;
Orion Energy Systems;
and these additional funders.
Additional funding provided
by the Friends of Wisconsin Public Television
and the Wisconsin History Fund
supported in part by the National Endowment for the Humanities.
Narrator: In the 1700s, French fur traders
traveled down the western shore of Lake Michigan.
They paddled around a point of land
jutting seven miles into the lake.
And beyond that
they came to a protected bay.
There, they found villages
of mixed bands of Ottowa, Potawatomi
Menominee and Ojibwa Indians.
Kerry Trask: This region was called Manitowoc by them.
Manitou is the root word.
And "manitou" means "spirit" in the Algonquin languages.
And Manitowoc is the place of the spirit
or the place of the good spirit.
And that may have been the case
because of the rapids at Manitowoc rapids
where the water was white.
And there was the mist from the rapids
and the thunder of the water.
So it was regarded as a magical place.
The rivers running into the lake through Manitowoc
the Manitowoc River
and the two rivers in Two Rivers.
They go fairly far inland.
And that not only provides an opportunity
to do lumbering up river and float the logs down
but it also provides
power sources for saw mills.
Narrator: As the area opened up
for European settlement
sawmills went up
in what would soon become Two Rivers, Manitowoc Rapids
and the city of Manitowoc.
Most of the people that came were New Englanders.
They came from Vermont and New York state.
And the sawmills attracted other people to come here and work.
Benjamin Jones, the founder of Manitowoc, also had a sawmill.
Trask: Ben Jones and his brother
bought 2,000 acres of land in this area
for a buck and quarter an acre.
Within a year or so, he was selling house lots
which were a quarter-acre in size
in what now is the city of Manitowoc
for $200 a lot.
But the other aspect of Jones' plan was lumbering.
Jones also constructed a sawmill on the south side of the river
to cut the white pine
that were plentiful and dense in this region.
Chicago was this voracious market
for almost anything that could be produced.
And Jones made a lot of money
on selling lumber into the Chicago market.
Narrator: In Two Rivers, the abundant harvest of fish
caught by the Native Americans
caught the attention of early settlers.
Trask: The Indians came out of the forest in springtime
after they made maple syrup and maple sugar.
And you know, came out of the forest
to get away from the mosquitoes, and mostly to fish.
The fish were at times
especially in the springtime, just dense in the water.
And white fish and perch were especially plentiful.
Narrator: French Canadians heard about the rich fishing
and a number of them, with names like LeClair, LaFond
migrated to the area.
My great-great grandfather was the first commercial fisherman.
He built a small home on the harbor shores.
He built a Mackinaw boat, as did all the other fishermen
that followed him.
Very soon, within a year or two
we had a half a dozen fishing boats there.
Narrator: Early on, fishermen went out
with what is called a Mackinaw boat
first developed for the Great Lakes fur trade.
Gagnon: These were big enough for two men
to sail on a lake on calm days
and to do their fishing with what is called a gillnet.
Narrator: The French-speaking Canadians
established a distinctive fishing village
where they built sheds, set up reels for drying nets
and docked their boats.
Today, only a few families
continue to fish carrying on a tradition
passed down through the generations
and a way of life that's always been difficult.
Peter LeClair: Long, hard days.
You got seasick
I got seasick for two years.
When I was going to high school, my junior and senior year
and two years after I got out of high school
I threw up every day.
I went down to a hundred pounds.
And my ma said, "You got to get that kid home.
He's gonna fall over dead."
"Nobody ever died from seasickness yet.
And he ain't gonna, either. Get up and let's go!"
Narrator: In the early days, fish were salted
and shipped by schooner to Chicago or Detroit.
Schooners also brought in animal hides
to a tannery in Two Rivers
built in the midst of a hemlock forest
which supplied the bark necessary
for processing leather.
Fay: The county had vast stands of hemlock trees.
The bark from the hemlock trees
was used to tan animal hides.
The Wisconsin Leather Company Tannery
was the largest tannery in the world at one point.
Two huge, more than 100-foot-long, brick buildings
were located along the shore.
And of course, a settlement developed there
around the tannery.
There was a school and boarding houses.
And houses were built for company workers.
Vats were used to soak and tan the hides.
Then after that process, they were stretched and dried
and put on schooners and sent down to Milwaukee
to be made into leather shoes and other types of products.
Without Lake Michigan
there probably wouldn't have been
any tanning industry developed in this area
because they needed it
as a major artery of transportation.
Railroads didn't come to the county
really, until the 1870s, 1873.
So, we were really dependent on our lake
for moving products, and produce, and also people.
Narrator: When a frontier settler built a schooner
called The Citizen
it was the first of many boats that would soon be built
launching a shipbuilding industry
that would drive the destiny of the community
for generations to come.
Narrator: As schooners carried away the lumber
from Manitowoc and Two Rivers
shipbuilders in both towns began building their own boats.
Theodore Kamaranski: When a town like Manitowoc or Two Rivers began to develop
a key moment in its emergence
was the launching of its first sailing ship.
Trask: The agricultural economy, the lumbering economy.
You know, you name it.
Whatever we're doing in the early days
has got to get somewhere else.
And almost inevitably, it is by ship.
Tom Wenstadt: It brought in a lot of wealth and ability to expand further.
By getting the revenue from the goods that were shipped.
And then ultimately getting revenue
from actually building the vessels themselves.
Kamaranski: Really important in the emergence of Manitowoc
as a shipbuilding center
was the arrival of William Wallace Bates
in the town, along with his father.
Bates became one of the foremost shipbuilders on the Great Lakes.
Bates' great contribution
was the classic Great Lakes clipper schooner.
Trask: Bates is one of the first in the upper Great Lakes
to design ships specifically for the lakes.
Wenstadt: Most of the rivers
that flowed into Lake Michigan
had sand build-up at the mouth of the river.
And it was hard to get any vessel
of any carrying capacity through that.
So his boats had unique characteristics.
They were designed for shallow draft
yet was capable of quite high speeds
for the day given the load they had to carry.
And he became quite famous for that.
Narrator: As Manitowoc and Two Rivers built schooners
the schooners, in turn, helped to build the two towns.
What happens is you begin to attract
a skilled labor force.
A lot of the early workers in Bates' shipyards
were Norwegians.
They were skilled workers.
And once you begin to accumulate
a skilled labor force like that
then you get more and more business.
And so, with a reputation of Bates' ships
of being, really, just absolutely perfect
for sailing on the lakes
you get more and more business.
And suddenly, you get a community
that is really beginning to grow and develop.
Narrator: Waves of German, Bohemian, Polish, and Irish immigrants
also arrived by steamboat
at the docks of Manitowoc and Two Rivers
which became regular stops
on the Goodrich steamship line.
For decades to come, the Goodrich line
would travel the lakeshore
and purchase much of its fleet of steamers
from Manitowoc Shipbuilders.
The very end of William Bates' career here in Manitowoc
he started building two steamers for the Goodrich line
which were the first steamers built in Manitowoc.
Narrator: Bates eventually sold his shipyard
to Greenleaf Rand, who went on to build
several more steamers for the Goodrich line.
( steamship horn blows )
Rand also teamed up with local ship owners
to build a dry dock
launching a ship repair business that brought in steady work
and serviced many of the boats
wintering in the Manitowoc Harbor.
Trask: The thing with shipping in the Great Lakes
is that it's a seasonal business.
From November to April, the ships were in the harbor.
And Manitowoc was always a good wintering place.
The ships would come in.
They'd line the harbor
along both sides of the river.
And those ships that need repair and needed re-outfitting
were serviced in the dry docks here.
Narrator: As Manitowoc became a regional shipbuilding
and repair center
it attracted a boat builder from Milwaukee
named Henry Burger.
Wenstadt: Henry Burger came in the early 1860s
and built his first vessel, the Fleet Wing, in 1867.
Narrator: Throughout a long shipbuilding career
Burger built dozens of schooners and steamers.
But when he launched the Cora A. in 1889
it would be the last of the Great Lakes schooners.
Kamaranski: The peak of the Great Lakes schooner era
there were close to 2,000 of these vessels
sailing the lakes.
Twice as many sailing ships as there were steamboats.
Carrying lumber
carrying grain, tying the rural communities of the region
to the big cities.
But the days of the sailing ships were ending.
They ended, largely because
Wisconsin was beginning to decline as a lumber center.
Narrator: In Two Rivers, fishermen removed the sails
and added engine houses to their Mackinaws
covering a new gasoline engine
developed by local engineer
William Kahlenberg.
Erick Kahlenberg: He had found books
from Daimler and Benz
who were the inventors of the marine gasoline engine.
But after reading those books
and investigating one other engine
that was already being produced, that was a gasoline engine
he came up with his own, came up with his own design.
Narrator: The engine became famous for its reliability
and revolutionized the commercial fishing industry.
Kahlenberg: If you can imagine the difference
between rowing when the wind died
or sailing when the weather was reasonable
going to a gasoline engine
that would take you through any weather, even wintertime
that was a huge change for that industry.
Narrator: In Manitowoc, a second Burger Boat Company
started by a nephew of Henry Burger
focused on building smaller craft
built around the new Kahlenberg engines.
Meanwhile, Henry Burger continued
to turn out large wooden steamers.
But the days of big, hand-crafted boats
were nearing an end.
As he approached retirement, Henry Burger sold his yard
to Chicago shipbuilders Charles West and Elias Gunnell.
The new Manitowoc Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company
would refit the yards to produce steel-hulled boats
like the luxury steamer Alabama
which became the flagship of the Goodrich line.
Crafted in a modern shipyard
by highly skilled labor
Manitowoc-built boats were now better prepared
to meet the challenges
and the hazards of shipping on the great lakes.
Narrator: The prosperity brought about by schooners and steamers
came with a heavy price
lost lives, and a lake bottom littered with shipwrecks.
Frederick Stonehouse: Lake Michigan can hold title to probably 2,500 shipwrecks.
That is more shipwrecks on Lake Michigan
than any of the other Great Lakes.
All of that really in testimony to the dangerous lake
when the storms begin to kick it up.
In a storm, you develop a very sharp chop.
In other words, the peaks of the waves are very close together
and they can be very, very steep.
So you can have 30-foot waves that might be only 50 feet apart
and they can literally batter a ship to death.
Keith Meverden: The Manitowoc Two Rivers rivers area
down to about Sheboygan
has probably the best collection
of deep, intact, significant shipwrecks in Wisconsin.
The shipwrecks in this area tend to be deeper water
mostly 150 feet or deeper
but they're very well-preserved.
They're in very cold, fresh water.
Unlike ocean shipwrecks, they don't deteriorate as quickly
because of the cold, freshwater.
They're very intact.
There's still a lot of cultural material on the vessels.
We have a very important collection
of shipwrecks in this area.
Narrator: Marine archaeologists from the Wisconsin Historical Society
are working with experienced divers
to document shipwrecks in the area.
On this trip, they're focusing in on the Home
a lumber schooner that went down about ten miles offshore
in 170 feet of water.
Deep-water dives require special breathing equipment.
And the frigid water limits the divers
to about 40 minutes of bottom time.
But each dive tells a bit more
of the story of the schooner Home.
Meverden: The Home is the second oldest known shipwreck in Wisconsin.
It was built in Ohio in 1843, and it sank in 1858
which is very early for Wisconsin's history.
The Home was involved in a collision with the Fisk.
She was struck off of her starboard bow.
And when she sank
three of her crew members went down with the vessel.
If you look at the shipwreck on the bottom
the collision damage is very evident on the starboard bow.
Paul Bently: When we look at the schooners now
we're really looking at an ancient design
almost ancient history.
Things didn't change over time.
In Wisconsin and the Midwest
many of the ships were built by family-run organizations.
and they had their own plans.
In fact, the plans were in their heads.
They didn't leave blueprints.
So the only way to understand how they built these ships
is to actually go down on them, and to record
to survey, to shoot.
Meverden: The Home, I think, is a good testament
to a lot of the dangers the mariners faced out on the lakes.
They didn't have radar at that time.
They didn't have GPS.
On a foggy day, when you didn't have good visibility
collisions sank many vessels out on the lakes.
Fire was also a big problem.
They had wood vessels with oil lamps
and a lot of steam machinery.
If something caught fire, it burned quickly.
There were a lot of vessels lost to fire
and also to running aground.
Also, the storms, you can get very fierce, violent storms
in a matter of minutes out on the Great Lakes
when the thunderstorms roll through.
Narrator: To save lives, the U.S. government
established a life-saving service
and located one of the first stations on the Great Lakes
in Two Rivers.
Stonehouse: The station here at Two Rivers
would have a keeper
often referred to as the captain.
And he would have ven surf men under him.
They were the sons of fishermen, the sons of mariners.
They were folks who grew up on the water.
And each one of those would be personally trained by him
in all of the skills that they needed to have
that were critical for them to be able to respond
to an emergency, and save the lives
of shipwrecked mariners and passengers.
As soon as the lookout spotted a ship in distress
he immediately would ring the bell.
There was a big watch bell up there.
That would summon the keeper.
They would both evaluate the situation
and then, the keeper would call the entire crew.
They would man the life boat or surf boat, as needed.
They would go out regardless of the weather conditions
and make the rescue
or literally die in the attempt to make the rescue.
Their motto was, "Regulations say we have to go out.
They say nothing about coming back."
And they lived that motto.
There were 40 lifesavers on the Great Lakes
that lost their lives, either directly in rescue attempts
or succumbing to injuries from those attempts.
Narrator: In 1887, the steamer Vernon went down
in a November gale eight miles off Two Rivers.
The captain of the steamer Superior
reported seeing survivors on rafts.
But the storm had broken his ship's tiller
and he was helpless to save them.
Later, fishermen recovered the bodies of 19.
In hopes of identifying the dead
photos of victims were sent to cities around the lake.
In the end, the community buried eight unidentified sailors
and the people of Two Rivers raised the money
to place a marker on their grave.
Narrator: The plentiful supply of wood used for shipbuilding
also helped Two Rivers
carve out a reputation
as the wood-type capital of the world.
Shipping wooden type to print shops around the world.
It began when a skilled woodworker named J.E Hamilton
was asked if he could create some large letters out of wood
that a local printer needed for a poster.
Gregory Corrigan: He printed posters, to announce events.
He needed wood type for an event that was going to happen
at Turner Hall here in Two Rivers.
And there was going to be a dance there.
Narrator: To make dance posters and other announcements
printers used small letters made of metal.
But it was cheaper and easier
to make large letters from wood.
Corrigan: Wood type, at that time
they would get from the East Coast for the most part.
He wasn't able to get it, or have it back here in time
to meet his deadline for this poster.
So he went to Hamilton simply out of desperation.
Hamilton did such a great job of polishing the wood
and getting it to the right thickness
that it printed really well.
Narrator: Hamilton set up a shop in the back of his mother's house.
And with a foot-powered scroll saw
began cutting out samples of wooden type
and sending them to area newspapers.
He gets a response from the Green Bay Gazette.
That was his first order.
And he had an order from them for $2.50.
And so, that starts his company.
Narrator: As more orders came in
Hamilton had enough work to build his own small factory.
Corrigan: He builds his first factory
and he hires 22 employees in 1882.
Ten years later, he has 200 employees.
David Shields: There were all sorts of new markets opening up out here
as the frontier pushed west.
With the port here at Two Rivers
with everything flowing by this way
he had his pick of really the best materials.
All the guys back on the East Coast
began having to buy wood
from out here.
They were slowed down, not only in getting the wood to them
but then distributing it back to the new customers.
And Hamilton didn't have any of those problems.
He was sitting on the wood and could make it quicker.
And then he could distribute it quicker.
Narrator: Hamilton also developed
a new way to produce type
using the wood of the holly tree
and sold it for about half the price of his competitors.
Shields: He had come to dominate the industry economically
because of his being able to undersell everybody else.
And so he becomes, kind of the last man standing.
He bought up all the other producers.
Narrator: The Hamilton Wood Type Museum in Two Rivers
with its collection of working machinery
tells the story of the American wood type industry
and how it continued the communications revolution
first begun by Johannes Gutenberg.
Shields: Removable type was developed in the 1450s by Gutenberg
in Germany.
It was small, metal pieces of type
that could be moved around to compose books.
That lasted for hundreds of years
and was really the way mass communication started.
The limit to metal was that it could only be made small
half an inch, maybe an inch at the most.
If it got too big, it was difficult to make.
Great for books, but not so great for advertising.
Wood type was developed
in the early part of the 19th century, about 1828
as a way of cheaply making really large sizes of type.
And it allowed for a real explosion
in the kinds of things you could print
so bigger posters, broadsides, newspaper headlines.
It just sort of revolutionized that.
The fact that you could make something that was a foot tall
or two feet tall was exhilarating.
Large broadsheets
that needed gigantic type on the side of a building
were made in wood type.
And with wood type things were much easier to produce
the space between the designer thinking of something
and then making the drawings
and converting that into wood type
was radically reduced.
It went from something that would take years to almost days.
So the sort of Victorian type of graphic styles
that were slow to take hold
in metal type
just exploded in wood type.
Not only could you make type out of wood
but you could also engrave illustrations
and make drawings and pictures.
It was a technology that kind of allowed for everything.
So the sky was limit, really.
Narrator: As Hamilton cornered the market on wood type
he also discovered
that printers needed better places to store it.
Bill Moran: In general, printer shops were dirty, messy
unorganized places.
Hamilton comes in and sees the need
to supply type to these printers.
But then he has the bright idea--
I've got all this woodworking equipment
why don't I make the storage devices to put the type in.
He takes it a step further.
He says, okay we need working surfaces to work on every day.
And, even though I'm not making lead type
the lead type has to go somewhere, too.
That was where he really turned a corner
from a business standpoint.
Suddenly, the cabinetry starts to eclipse the wood type.
Shields: Today, any type shop anywhere has Hamilton cases.
It's just the de facto printer's equipment.
If you have a printer's case, it's a Hamilton case.
Narrator: With its highly skilled workforce
the Hamilton Company diversified further
starting a spinoff business
making cabinets for dental offices.
Shields: Hamilton really uses that body of knowledge
to really start making a lot of other things better.
I think that whole period of the progressive movement
in American history making things better.
They made a lot of money, but their real intention
was sort of make things more efficient
and make things better.
And I think that's a wonderful story that can happen here
that oddly enough, comes out of wood type.
Narrator: The Hamilton Company
reinvented itself once again
when an inventor brought in a prototype
of the first automatic clothes dryer.
Following their tradition, the company improved the machine.
And in the years after World War II
sales of dryers took off.
Why, here's real emancipation from old-fashioned chores!
Just set the dial, and walk away!
Narrator: The company went on to make classroom furniture
and laboratory equipment.
But by this time, its wood type business was in decline
as the hand-setting of type
now took place in only the smallest print shops
replaced by modern typesetting machinery.
But through the 1960s, Hamilton continued to make wood type
for newspaper headlines.
And most of the country's newspapers
broke the biggest stories with the biggest headlines
using Hamilton wood type.
Narrator: In 1893, at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago
a display of a new miracle metal called aluminum
inspired Joseph Koenig
to start another new business in Two Rivers.
Gerald Schultz: So, he decided, well, I'm gonna try that.
Narrator: Setting up shop in a corner of the Hamilton wood type factory
Koenig launched the first of several aluminum companies
that would follow.
Most of them started by his former employees.
The region would soon become a leading producer of cookware
putting aluminum pots and pans
into kitchens across the country.
Koenig began by building machines
to work with what was then a new and unfamiliar metal.
Schultz: He came up with combs out of aluminum.
He designed some machines to cut the teeth of the comb.
They made novelty combs
and different novelty items.
All kinds of gadgets that somebody would come up with
and then they'd go and make it.
John Singer: They made little boxes for cigars.
Warren Wentorf: They made a collapsible cup
with a cover that you could pull out.
It would seal, and you could get a drink of water with it.
Fancy, fancy stuff, you know?
Coins.
Schultz: There were two men that engraved all that stuff.
Narrator: In Manitowoc, Henry Vits closed down his tannery
hired away a couple of tool and die makers from Koenig's plant
and started the Manitowoc Aluminum Novelty Company
making the same kinds of products.
The firms soon merged
creating the Aluminum Goods Manufacturing Company
or as it became known locally, the Goods.
The move into cookware production came about
when Adolf Kummerow, a plant foreman, quit
after Joseph Koenig ordered him to start punching a time clock.
Richard Kummerow: He was a foreman.
My grandfather didn't want to punch a clock.
He said, "If I have to punch a clock, I'm leaving."
And he left.
Narrator: Kummerow's wife Caroline
suggested that he try making cookware
something that Aluminum Goods wasn't doing.
They made their first cookware in their basement.
The home is still there on 21st Street in Two Rivers.
Narrator: Kummerow formed the Standard Aluminum Company
and renting space in an old woodworking plant in Two Rivers
expanded the production of cookware.
Wentorf: They were making pudding pans and frying pans.
They made the dairy pail in there, and got into roasters.
Kummerow: He expanded his presses.
Then he got into the first aluminum rolling mills.
God almighty, that opened up the whole thing, you know?
Narrator: Eventually, Aluminum Goods Manufacturing
bought out Standard Aluminum.
And within a few years
the Goods became a cookware giant
producing over 40% of all U.S. aluminum cookware.
Early success came when Quaker Oats
sold over a million double boilers
as part of the company's first cereal box premium.
Singer: You put water in the pot, then you put the oatmeal in here
and it never stuck to the pan.
That's the way you do it without burning it.
Narrator: The flagship Mirro brand launched in 1917
with full-page ads in national magazines.
Some of the designs were the paneled percolators
and paneled tea kettles.
Singer: This was a brand new science, no one had ever done it.
No one knew how to take a sheet of metal
and make a big pot out of it and not have it split.
How do you make the cover?
How do you make it round, and how do you make it fit?
Narrator: Mirro sales soared
with the growth in chain stores and catalogs
and as the company made new products that found their way
into cupboards and drawers across the country.
Singer: When we got married, we both worked there.
So we got, I don't know how much money.
Probably $100 worth.
Of cookware, you know.
You could pick out whatever you wanted.
Everybody at work that got married got it.
But because we were both there at the time
we got twice as much.
We have every tin that Mirro made
muffin tins, pie tins
different cake pans.
This is the tart pan.
And the muffin tins, small ones, large ones.
And Jell-O molds.
My dad made the tools and dies for this.
He made all the tools to make this spout.
Our house is filled with Mirro!
Everything they make.
Narrator: The company grew rapidly
and with plants in both cities
became part of the fabric of life.
Walter Vogl: I remember this scene very well.
That whistle would blow at noon.
The doors of these industries would literally fly open
and humanity would come exploding out of the doors.
Everybody walking very fast
to be able to get home for lunch.
Jerry Schultz: From Plant One
I could get home in seven minutes
back in seven, so that was 14.
That gave me about 13 minutes to eat.
Narrator: Over time, generations of families worked at the Goods
under the community-minded leadership
of generations of the Vits family.
Singer: Those old Vits could walk through the plant.
If there were a thousand people in one plant
they'd pat 'em on the back, and knew their name.
Schultz: Say you were working in the press room
and you happened to have your hand smashed, or something
instead of laying you off, or retiring you
or whatever they wanted
they would put you as a boat elevator operator
or as a sweeper, janitor, or something like that.
So, more or less, like a family.
Singer: They used to have a picnic.
Two Rivers had a picnic and Manitowoc had a picnic
and the company paid for all of the beer and the food
and the parade, and all the things.
All the kids got toys, and whatever.
All the Polish people that came over
and lived in what we called the Polish Hill.
And the first generation worked in the buffing room.
The second one were tool and die makers.
The third one were doctors.
Narrator: And over time, the company continued to innovate
designing and developing new products.
Schultz: Just about any cookware
that was made out of aluminum
we made it.
Singer: A lot of engineers.
We did things that cost money to do.
Wentorf: Always built knowledge.
The company always was willing to pay
to educate people.
They'd train their own engineers, electricians
machinists, pipefitters.
We called it Vits' College of Aluminum Knowledge.
That's what it was.
A lot of people learned a lot of things.
Narrator: With the coming of World War II
Manitowoc and Two Rivers, like most cities
geared up for the war effort.
Aluminum Goods Manufacturing
retooled its plants completely for wartime production.
And its skilled workforce turned out hundreds of items
large and small
for the military.
The area's agricultural industries
were ideally suited for the war effort.
With companies like Lakeside Foods
and the White House Milk Company
canning huge quantities of food for the troops.
In Two Rivers, the Carron Net Company
a maker of fishing nets
began making camouflage netting.
The reliable engines of the Kahlenberg Engine Company
made their way into Navy ships.
Burger Boat, with workers still skilled
in wooden boat construction, received contracts
for building wooden sub-chasers, minesweepers
and other ships for the Navy.
But the biggest and most unusual contribution to the war effort
would be made by the Manitowoc Shipbuilding Company
headed by Charles West.
Carl Umlandt: Charles West had friends in the Navy in Washington, DC.
He went out there and he met Admiral Jones.
And he said, "We would like to build Destroyers for you."
Admiral Jones said, "We don't want you to build destroyers.
We want you to build submarines."
Marge Miley: It was big headlines in the newspaper.
Yes, three-inch headlines, at least.
Their first contract was for ten submarines.
And then they got ten more, then they got eight more.
That was an exciting time in Manitowoc though
when they had all those people down there.
Nobody who could work was out of a job at that point.
Trask: Honestly, submarines at the time were very high-tech projects.
And therefore it required a very, very skilled
careful and productive workforce.
Narrator: Launching the massive effort
the company recruited workers
not only from Manitowoc and Two Rivers
but also nearby cities and farms.
When a farmer would applied for a job at Manitowoc Ship
he was the first one they hired.
A farmer is a jack of all, maybe a master of none
but he can fix anything.
That's the kind of people that they were looking for
down at Manitowoc Ship.
He could weld, burn, do a lot of things.
He had a lot of mechanical skills, so to speak.
And what West did, was he hired on and trained
who became very skilled welders.
Miley: And it was quite an adjustment, I think
for the men to have women working side-by-side
as welders and machinists.
Rosella Siebert: They told us the only way we could get in
was by taking welding, because they needed welders bad.
So we went back to Sheboygan
and went to vocational school.
I never missed a day.
I was proud that I could be one of them.
As far as I'm concerned
that was the best place I ever worked, the shipyards.
Miley: They used to bring the welders in
from Green Bay and Sheboygan by bus.
There were over 7,000 people working there
round the clock.
The other submarines that were built at Connecticut, Groton
they did a wonderful job.
But the submarines that were produced here
everybody took a lot of pride in their work.
With whatever they did, it was beautiful.
Siebert: The sailors ask, how did they ever get cherry pickers
cheese makers
and farmers to do such wonderful work?
Trask: What you have here
is you have people who have a tremendous amount of pride
in what they do, and what they know.
And a tremendous of pride in how productive they can be.
The first submarine that came off
was 288 days ahead of schedule.
Harold Bieberitz: We had quite a crowd of people for the launching of the Peto.
Miley: The first one, as I recall
even the schools were let out for that.
Harold Bieberitz: It was exciting.
Now you see the whole submarine.
It had its camouflage paint job on too, by the way
with black and gray.
Pilger: A group of dignitaries, of course, were here
with a lady that was picked to launch the ship.
It was quite a day.
Bieberitz: They were always launched broadside.
Siebert: And then they were wondering
if when they did launch it, when it tipped over
if it was going to come back up again.
They thought maybe it was going to sink.
Pilger: They had built a water tank, and they put a model in there
just to see if it would turn over completely.
And that was what was worrying everyone.
Siebert: The first one tipped over pretty far.
And there were guys from the shipyards riding it.
Bieberitz: I'm well aware of that, because I was on it.
I was one of five.
One fellow, he was facing me, I was facing him.
I'm facing the river.
And I could see when we started to
move. I said, "Here we go."
And I looked at this guy, and he looked at me.
And he was white as a sheet.
I swear he wet his pants.
( laughs )
When we went over
we were supposed to go over to 37 degrees
I think it was.
And actually, it went 39 degrees.
When you take two degrees, that's a lot.
And all you could hear was--
And even the fellows with me
they were saying, "Come back, come back...
We're coming back."
And we came back.
And pretty soon, we settled
with the top side up, the way it should be.
That was an exciting day
the launching of the Peto.
Narrator: After World War II, the Manitowoc Ship Building Company
used the skills acquired making submarines
to turn out big lake freighters.
Tom Wenstadt: In the '50s, there was lots of demand.
And companies were looking to move large amounts
of limestone, coal, and iron ore.
That's what these vessels were designed to do.
The larger the vessel
the more economical they could ship these bulk commodities.
So they were trying to build larger and larger vessels.
Narrator: When the yard launched the Edward L. Ryerson in 1960
it was the biggest vessel on the Great Lakes.
And getting the boat around the bends in the river
proved to be difficult.
Wenstadt: As you can see here, the stern of the vessel
is just barely clearing the Sioux Line bridge.
And the bow is up into the cutout
that was made in the far bank
just to barely clear the bridge
and the river bank to get it out.
Narrator: The Manitowoc Shipyard had reached its limits.
It was clear that it would never be able to build
anything bigger than the Ryerson.
Reluctantly, the company moved
the building of large vessels to Sturgeon Bay
marking the end of an era
and the end of a big source of local pride.
This was really a place.
This is really a place that did something
that very few other communities could do.
There was a real powerful sense of identity with the yards
with the ships, with the lake
with the whole maritime tradition.
And then, all of it was gone.
Narrator: While the shipyard was closing down
the Aluminum Goods Manufacturing Company
continued to thrive in both Manitowoc and Two Rivers.
Changing its name to Mirro Aluminum Company
after its famous national brand
the cookware business grew
with the introduction of Teflon-coated pans.
The company built a large rolling mill, and allowed it
to expand into new products, like aluminum siding
motorboats
and other items.
In 1983, its success attracted the Newell Companies
to buy Mirro
adding the company to its collection of national brands.
But the new management
brought about big changes in the company culture.
Schultz: All of a sudden, you more or less became a number
instead of a person, you know.
Narrator: While Newell made the company more efficient
global competition eventually forced the company
to give up its "Made in U.S.A." label
and shift production overseas.
Schultz: They closed Plant One.
They closed Plant Four.
Then they closed Plant Three.
Then after that, it just kind of seemed to go down
as far as employment goes.
Narrator: When Newell ordered the closing of the last Mirro plant
it was a devastating blow
to the area.
Trask: At which point, the transition
is becoming gigantic
in that the whole country
is moving from an industrial economy
to a post-industrial economy.
Towns like Manitowoc and Two Rivers suffered
like most of the industrial towns in the Great Lakes region.
They really become part of the rust belt.
There was this sinking feeling
about gosh, you know, are there going to be any jobs here?
Can we make a living here?
And for a while, it looked pretty dismal.
People, while they may feel discouraged and setback
nevertheless, there's a real resilience here.
And bit by bit, by bit
and development by development
there's been a real revival here.
The adjustment is being made.
And it's being made in pretty creative ways.
But it's being made in a way that still relies upon
some of the old resources here.
It relies on the work ethic of the people
the skill of the labor force.
And it's still in manufacturing.
Narrator: In 2003, laid-off Mirro workers
teamed with a local entrepreneur
to restart the aluminum rolling mill.
The mill, in turn, attracted a cookware manufacturer
to restart the production of pots and pans
in a Mirro plant next door.
When the Burger Boat Company went bankrupt
the workers formed an organization to keep it alive
until new owners were found.
Since then, the luxury boat business continued crafting
high quality custom-built yachts, keeping the ship building tradition
of the area alive.
Manitowoc Ship Building became the Manitowoc Company
focusing its efforts on building construction cranes.
The company also diversified
into ice-making machinery
putting Manitowoc ice machines
into hotels and motels around the world.
And new industries developed
building on the need for greener energy
like Tower Tech, fabricating the giant steel towers
needed to support wind turbines.
Orion Energy now occupies
another old Mirro plant
producing fixtures that make more light
with less electricity.
These and other industries brought about
an impressive rebound.
But even as the cycles of the economy threaten such gains
Manitowoc and Two Rivers face the future
with a tradition of innovation
that began with the first lakeshore industries.
And for these cities founded on the lake
some of the old ties
to their maritime past remain.
The U.S. Lifesaving Service
became the Coast Guard, which still patrols the waters
from a Two Rivers headquarters.
Lake Michigan continues to bring in prosperity
this time with a steam-powered car ferry
carrying boatloads of tourists.
( indistinct talking by boat crew member )
And there is still a submarine in Manitowoc
for them to explore.
And museums that display the area's maritime heritage.
( indistinct talking by tour guide )
Other museums feature the rich history of the area
and even serve up another Two Rivers invention
the ice cream sundae.
And celebrations of more recent events
take their place alongside the old.
Here's the first one...
Narrator: Like Sputnik Fest, commemorating the day in 1962
when a piece of a Russian satellite
crashed into the street in Manitowoc.
But today, as always
people continue to be drawn
to the timeless beauty of Lake Michigan.
Vogl: We all love the lake here.
We never tire of it.
And most of us never forget that we have the opportunity
to live in such a beautiful place.
We have a beautiful trip between Manitowoc and Two Rivers.
And I don't know of any other area
on the Great Lakes
where you go from one city to another
along the open beach and beauty of Lake Michigan.
And I talk to people
about whether we take these things for granted.
And most of us believe
that every time we drive along Lake Michigan
or cross one of our rivers, we get a little thrill
and certainly a feeling of deep appreciation
for being able
to live in an area like this.
Wisconsin Hometown Stories: Manitowoc / Two Rivers
is made possible in part
by a principal gift from Ruth St. John and John Dunham West Foundation, Inc.
And major gifts from the Francis A. and Georgia F. Ariens Fund;
Burger Boat Company;
the Manitowoc Company;
the Jane and Arthur Stangel Fund;
Orion Energy Systems;
and these additional funders.
Additional funding provided
by the Friends of Wisconsin Public Television
and the Wisconsin History Fund
supported in part by the National Endowment for the Humanities.