When we moved to Savannah 12 years ago, I brought with me my entire woodshop, my source of therapy and relief from the pressures of work. Among my floor tools was a grand old 1948 9-inch Model A South Bend metal lathe.
Lack of space for all this equipment was soon clear, and with no further use for the lathe I listed it for sale in the classified ads of this newspaper. Weeks went by and finally I got a call from an individual asking whether I still had the tool and what I wanted for it.
I had paid $1,500, carefully restored it to pristine condition and now I was asking only $750. The caller said he also had one and was offering it at $700 but had no takers either.
At the time I was baffled at the lack of response, but I was soon to learn a lesson that has stayed with me.
Frustrated, I decided I would list it on eBay, part by part. The interest was overwhelming, and in a few weeks I had sold the entire lathe and pocketed more than $2,200. The bids came in from Canada, the Midwest and California but none from the South.
The lesson is something I should have realized.
Small manufacturers, one- and two-man machine shops, tool-and-die makers, not to mention a host of other skilled blue collar jobs, were never a big part of our Southern culture. The small shops were often spin-offs from larger manufacturers where the shop owners had learned their skills, taken an innovative idea from their experiences, and started new businesses.
Metalworking craftsmanship as a hobby would also be less likely to be widespread in the Sunbelt. Before the Civil War, the Confederacy was largely agricultural, and the manufacturing base of the Union played no small part in the outcome of that conflict.
However, there was a time when manufacturing was an important part of Savannah’s economy. During World War II, the Southeastern Shipbuilding Corporation built 88 liberty ships in Savannah and employed thousands of people.
Most of the women and older male workers migrated or commuted to Savannah from rural areas for the work, some living in housing projects. When the war ended and demand dried up, they returned home, leaving little legacy of skilled labor in the city. (For the story see “On the Swing Shift: Building Liberty Ships in Savannah” by Tony Cope.)
There is a much underappreciated value that manufacturing brings to a community. Large employers not only bring jobs, but suppliers and service companies, new residents and consumer spending, housing demand, and tax revenues. New sources of philanthropy and community support are added benefits.
As important as creating an entrepreneurial culture is for our region, nothing has the immediate impact of the location in our region of a major employer. But, perhaps nothing is overlooked as much as the potential for innovation.
Take the late Stanford Ovshinsky, an undeniably brilliant inventor with no college background, who at one time made his living designing automation equipment for the automotive industry. That exposure to electronics eventually led him to create the rechargeable nickel-metal hydride battery. He also held patents on the re-writeable optical disc and flat panel display among others. His early instruction was as a lathe operator in Michigan.
Our economic development team is always trying to bring big manufacturing to our region in a hotly competitive world. It is manufacturing jobs where people are working together, sharing ideas over lunch or a beer to solve design and production problems. That collaboration can lead to innovations that themselves spawn new industries.
The 2011 Charleston Regional Development Scorecard, an economic comparison of nine southern cities done by Clemson University, echoes the SRI report to Savannah Economic Development Authority.
Savannah continues to rank last among its peers in the Innovative Activity Index. Using a scale in which the U.S. norm is 100, Raleigh’s score is 183 and Austin is literally off the chart — 270. Savannah’s score is 21. That is not a typo.
We are a generation behind, playing catch-up. We cannot hide among the soft folds of fluffy rhetoric about our city.
Russ Wigh is a professor of business. Email him at rdwigh@bellsouth.net.