RototilleR – the 1970’s and Beyond

Success, Chaos, and the End of the Road. 

By: John R. Pattison

July 2021

Hello again, to fans of Troy’s Rototiller Factory, as we move forward in the development of this picture.

In this last episode we’ll go right to the bitter end in 2000, where bankruptcy put a padlock on the front door. It’s a story which reverberated far beyond Troy’s top-of-the-navigable Hudson River city limits. We’ve just finished talking about the ‘60’s in “RototilleR – the 1960’s, continued),” and looking forward, there’s a whole lot more to this story. Still, I can’t help thinking this might be a good time to pause for a moment. Before we go forward along this trail, let’s stop, pull up a log, get out our little propane cook stove and heat up some miso soup. It’s powdered stuff for hikers: just add hot water, have a cup of nutrition, and look at the map to assess how far we’ve come.

We started in the depression years of the ‘30’s, went through the war years of the ‘40’s, spent some time with the Model T Roto-Ette years of the ‘50’s. We managed to slog through the gut-wrenching drama of the ‘60’s where that light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel turned out to be—not a mirage—but a success story. Whew! any more of that miso soup in the pot?

Now, after a refreshing pause, back on the trail. Looking at the ‘70’s and beyond, the best view I can give you is a timeline of events still needing some air. Once outlined, I’ll do my best to detail my take on these episodes. They’re beginning to look more like Odyssey than mere storyline, which might make Homer smile.

The old Draper Cordage factory at 102nd St. and 9th Ave. in Troy, NY was purchased in 1938 for use by Kelsey’s new RototilleR start-up.

Not that Troy’s seven-decade journey with RototilleR pales in significance when compared to Homer’s seven-millennia tour with the people of Mycenae. It doesn’t. All the human forces were present in both. Maybe it’s just as simple as, “that was then, this is now.” Even the badges worn by our Troy police and fire folks say, “Ilium Fuit, Troya Est.” It continues to be a Troy story.

So, the trail map is in my hand. We have a lot of ground to cover before we can put a rubber band around it all and toss it in the bottom drawer for someone else to deal with.

Here’s what’s ahead - Just follow the Troy Bilt serial numbers:

·      My Years as a Garden Way Employee
·      The Start-up of the Capital District Community Gardens
·      The Coup D’état of 1982
·      Changes in Tiller Design - as a function of Cost and Market
·      Who’s in Charge?  
·      Changes in the Garden Scene
·      Draw Your Own Conclusions and I’ll Share Some of My Own

My Years as a Garden Way Employee

In eight years, the factory built less than 10,000 units. Things were looking up.

It was January 1970 and the first TB tiller off the line was Serial Number 9513. This number represented all the TB tillers assembled since 1962. The previous month, December ’69, Garden Way Sales Manager Dean Leith, Jr. had hired me on as a staff assistant to help with customer relations. Sales were increasing due to the successful direct-marketing efforts of Lyman Wood, as seen in our last chapter. Customers were calling and writing with questions and more factory people were needed. I was hired because I was a gardener, familiar with lawn and garden equipment, and had sales experience in the insurance field. I even had hands-on experience with my father’s new Troy Bilt!

The Tiller Factory Tines imitated the New York Times’ style.

Jumping right in, talking daily to remote customers who had no local “Rep” or dealer to turn to, I was dealing with folks who now had a three-hundred-pound bright red tiller that was shipped to them “Factory Direct.” Our job was to assist with all their questions and complaints. I was thrilled, thinking I had suddenly almost landed in tiller-heaven.

At the end of my first year at GW, the next TB off the line carried serial number 16108. We had made 6,595 units since my first day in January, compared to the 9,513 tillers made in the previous eight years combined.

We were just getting started. Sometime in my first year at GW I was asked to establish a weekly bulletin “of sorts.” My response was The Tiller Factory Tines, a bulletin with notices about important scheduled meetings to be posted at key points around the plant. It was sent to all departments and showed up on the walls of employee bathrooms and watering holes. To spice up its readership, the Tines would include birthdays, a joke or two, even favorite recipes submitted by anyone from lathe operators to stenographers. “Fer cryin’ out loud,” some guy said, “fella couldn’t get to the can or grab a coffee and not see it.” Extra copies went home in dinner pails and back pockets, and meetings were well attended.

While the factory was trying to keep up with orders for new units, Lyman Wood continued his efforts communicating with gardeners about his message. With ads in Rodale’s Organic Gardening and Farming magazine, he reached a national audience. “A Little Land, a Lot of Living” was resonating with people who were tired of poor-quality veggies, factory smokestacks and industrial pollution. It seems Americans were waking up to the need for a new reality of some sort. Pushing the theme of “Power Composting” with a Troy-Bilt for soil improvement was making sense to more people. Better tasting, healthier veggies seemed increasingly appealing. Orders kept coming in. By the end of my second year, serial number 28528 had arrived at the shipping dock. Subtracting the 1970s’ total of 16,108 tillers sold left 12,420 units made in ’71. This was nearly double the 6,595 units made the previous year. The Tines was playing to some happy employees, and investors, I might say.

My tenure with “almost Tiller-Heaven” moved along with some new assignments. I was now reporting to VP Bob Schwartz, a finance guy with an MS from Cornell’s School of Industrial & Labor Relations. Dean Leith had way too much on his plate. So did Schwartz, but he had me on his team anyway. I would check in with him at intervals, went over project details and kept busy. One day Dean grabbed me in a hallway with something he was thinking about. He wanted more personal contact with owners.

“How’s it going,” Dean was wondering about all our new tiller owners, “with your new Tiller?”

Good question, I thought. Then he asked me to put together a program to find out. Right there in the hallway, “OK!” was my quick reply, “I’ll put something together and get back.” In the next week or so, Dean asked if I had that program ready. I replied I had started putting thoughts on paper to go over with Schwartz. Dean snapped back, “Don’t worry about Schwartz. Just rent as big a station-wagon as you can get for next week. Line up one owner within a 100-mile radius of here for the morning, and another for the afternoon. Get four people from Assembly, Shop, Offices, and Quality Control, and one VP. Take ’em all to a nice lunch. Give me a report when you get back.” He turned and walked away. That was the beginning of the Employee-to-Owner Visitation Program. So much for Schwartzie; he had plenty of other things to worry about.  

’72 was a two-image year with 20,296 units built.

Owners were astonished and thrilled by the visits, and employees as well. Many factory workers had never seen a tiller do what TBs were made to do, yet they were making all the gears, shafts, and pulleys, as well as assembling the components into a workable unit. Dean had just shown the world a stroke of genius. By the end of ‘72, the factory had made and shipped another 20,296 brand new tillers, only a bit short of double the last year’s 12,420. And things were still “just getting started.”

’73 was more frenetic than ever. If you thought ’71’s production of double the year before, then ’72’s double that again couldn’t be beat - you would be wrong. We went from 20K in ’72 to over 60K bright red Troy Bilt Rototillers shipped to ‘73’s anxious customers in one year. Dare I say triple the previous year? Frenetic?

All of which edged the calendar ahead, with the first TB of January ’74 proudly carrying serial number 80945.

As salaried employees, we were required to show up Saturday mornings for duty at the loading dock to help customers who drove to the factory to pick up their new tillers. We were not thrilled about pulling Saturday duty after a busy week, but the experience had its good points. We met the customers who had shelled out cash for the product we were building. We saw their amazement at seeing this factory in Troy, NY where their new tiller was put together with gears, shafts and components all made right there. We often gave them a tour, chatted about garden stuff, and made new friends. All of which used up time away from family and activities, while also creating very good Public Relations for the company. Maybe too good to be sustainable? We’ll soon see.

Sixty thousand new Troy Bilt Rototillers being assembled in one year meant producing a lot of parts. We were busy with no let-up in sight. And with north of Eighty thousand customers now out there, customer service was becoming increasingly important. Dean asked me to take it on. “Almost Tiller Heaven” just got better.

’73 earned six images, and the same for ’74.

I spent 1974 as service manager, dealing with customer complaints and questions like, “my tiller won’t start” and “how can the tiller handle rocky soil” to “how do I operate the tiller on a hillside?” Complaint volume seemed to be relatively low. Motor issues, for which we were not responsible, were the largest category. This made Quality Control happy along with management.

I worked with several Hudson Valley Community College students on a project to power our motors with propane, not gasoline. GW supplied several tillers, the students had funding to supply the rest. They worked the entire summer field testing and documenting results, which were outstanding. In the end, we said, “thanks, but not interested.” A very sad decision in my opinion, though it set me to wondering about management thinking. That propane option offering easy starting along with lower maintenance could have been trendsetting.

Within the blink of an eye ‘74 was gone. I did not keep a diary then, so with memory unreliable, dates and timelines were also not precise. But the serial numbers are accurate, and faithfully serving as trail-markers.

And lo and behold another marker is just ahead. It says January 1975 and serial number 131034 is ready to go. This number tells me 50,089 TB tillers were shipped in 1974. Contrast that with 60K made the year before, and we might wonder if our CEO should be worried. He wasn’t.

Just keeping up with new employees coming in as well as orders for new product arriving daily was telling the CEO not to lose any sleep.

The Start-up of the Capital District Community Gardens

’75’s production was down to five TB images.

Early in 1975, with serial number 131034 behind us, Dean stopped me in the hallway - again! Uh Oh! What now? He had that look that was saying more than “Howdy, John.” His boss, Lyman Wood, was known to be keen about the Community Gardening Movement taking shape in Europe and to some extent in the US. And here we are in the garden business, we’re making money, and why shouldn’t we find some way to support this movement?  Maybe we could get some Community Gardening going right here in Troy and New York’s Capital District as our contribution to that expanding development?

And to me, Dean was suggesting, “How would you like to take on a task like that?” My first thought before I replied was, “Is Dean trying to push me out the door? Or was he only kidding?”

Answer? Yes and No. Yes, he was suggesting that I rent an office - out of the factory, somewhere in town, to begin a community garden program, and no, he wasn’t kidding.

I did not want to do this, but, hey, did I have a choice? Balancing my options was painful.

I would miss the factory community. I liked my job as Service Manager with daily visits to see the machine operators, the tool crib, the Q/C guys, engineering staff, steno pool and office folks, and the Ale House lunches. “Almost tiller heaven” now was threatened. And in return I would have what? It was looking dismal. Wrestling with fears and doubts, I knew Dean wanted this to happen. He was under pressure from Lyman (to Lyman’s great credit) to make a splash in the larger scene of Gardening in this country and I could not disagree. Me, a life-long gardener, descendant of an early Cornell Ag grandpa who had connections with Cornell’s Ag Extension movement and the Grange League Federation Farmer Co-Op, with mother, uncles, cousins all farm-raised? I was all-in with this idea, but why me? Dean didn’t know my background. He only needed to keep Lyman happy, and it seemed like I was all he had at the time.

With great admiration for Dean, Lyman, and the whole idea, I said OK. Forward Ho! was the only direction. And forward I went with no plan, and no budget: just rent a store front, and find some parcels of land in the city suitable for division into garden plots. The company will pay my salary. Whew! Any more miso soup in that pot?

Early in ’75, CDCG appeared on the landscape with office HQ in downtown Troy. The tiller factory was cranking out new tillers. Lyman and his cohorts were shoveling in new orders. I was looking down rabbit holes searching for parcels of garden space in high-density Troy. Really? - Really!

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Dean yelled as an after-thought. “You’ll need to organize a Board of Directors. We’ll take care of getting the 501c3 done.” Again, really? Yes, Really!

Once I got beyond slapping my face, pinching my ribcage, and spending too much time in coffee shops, I stopped by the new Unity House homeless shelter on Eighth Street. John Lyons (the Rev.), a friend from the United Urban Ministries, was married to Mary Jane Smith, a former CSJ nun, and the shelter’s founder. They had started a small garden on vacant land next door for the shelter residents’ use. I chatted with “MJ”, explained what my new task was about, and asked how the garden project was working for them. “Good, but we don’t have much staff and it's not easy to keep up with it all,” she replied. I suggested CDCG might be able to help. Right there and then, that garden plot on Eighth Street became an early—maybe the first— Community Garden project in our region. MJ also soon became our first Board member.

Now I was getting excited. Nothing like some success to perk up one’s spirits. The next Board member to surface was Joe Fama, an RPI Architecture School grad who liked Troy as a student and decided to stay. He had helped to organize the Troy Architectural Program (TAP), tasked with helping low-income residents with low-cost solutions to rehab Troy buildings. He also had an existing garden program with his neighbors and was happy for help with its management.

Dean had been involved with this inner city neighborhood’s struggle with the new “Collar City” bridge. They had hopes of moving it further north, but had failed in their relocation attempt. Fama and MJ both knew Dean and were supportive of the new Garden Way’s success and importance to the city. This was low hanging fruit, and I was glad to have it. Two garden projects + two directors = progress. I soon located an office storefront on Fourth Street next to DeFazio’s Imported Italian Grocery store. We would have a desk, telephone, a few chairs, and a table for meetings. CDCG was open for biz.

Before the year’s end, we had land at the former Vanderheyden Hall site to get ready for spring planting. We added a few eyesore lots with old tires and junk refrigerators which we slated for total makeovers into fertile soil – I couldn’t wait to get my hands on this project. Borrowing a helper from the factory in the person of Bob Duff – I couldn’t do this alone – finished off 1975. Wait! We also had two new Directors, Newton Perrins, can’t recall the other, and Dean was our chairman.

On January 1st, 1976, serial number 193030 was now waiting for shipment back at Tiller-Heaven. Factory output had been just shy of 62,000 units for 1975, compared to ’74’s 50,000. Seems they were getting along without me; they continued to publish the TFT each Monday morning, and CDCG was starting its second year.

With one year behind me in this “What do I tell my friends I’m doing these days?” endeavor, I was not alone. Like a yo-yo on a string, I had back-up at the factory in the person of VP Bob Schwartz, my former boss, who had written the program to build the structure under which I was working changed This was reassuring. Also, our Chief Operating Officer, Spiro Vass, was keeping a keen eye on progress.

Surely this could be seen as a very unusual initiative for any struggling manufacturing plant. With a name like Garden Way, gardening could easily be understood as our meat and potatoes, but it wasn’t. At least, not exactly. We made Rototillers – for gardeners, but not exactly by gardeners. Few Garden Way employees had a home garden. Even fewer knew how a rototiller worked as a garden tool. Dean struggled with that offset constantly, which led him to create the Factory to Owner Visitation Program. Good idea, but a big stretch dream.

Even so, why would it seem strange for Garden Way to promote an activity which provided its factory with paying customers, especially when motivation came from the top. As early as 1972, Lyman Wood, for all practical purposes, oversaw everything. He was a man of vision, his dream had paid off, and he was moving on his dream of “Gardens for All” (GFA). He hired Jim Baker whom he saw as “a person who could lift GFA from local to national prominence.” Baker had impressive credentials as advertising director of the Christian Science Monitor. An also-impressive salary would be included in Baker’s package, paid for by Garden Way Mfg. 

According to Lyman’s biography, What a Way to Live and Make a Living – The Lyman P. Wood Story (Griffith, In Brief Pr, 1994), Baker said, “the GFA project was sometimes heady, often rewarding, and always confusing, both from the nature of the mission and the lack of uniform direction and motive.” Interesting testimony for me to read many years after my struggles trying to put CDCG together. With hindsight now quite clear, it is easy to see that GWMfg was bankrolling a national gardening initiative because the authority which signed our paychecks wanted it that way. While our local CDCG program was not linked to GFA, they were both funded by the same source.

It was also comforting to know that a well-trained administrator leading a program with a national scope was having problems with confusion and “the lack of uniform direction and motive” of the initiative. Hello Brother Baker!!!

Getting garden sites here and there was tedious with detail negotiations and meetings with political entities but we plodded along getting a new site here and there. I needed to get into Albany for project expansion as well as the small towns between the cities of Albany, Troy, and Schenectady. One day in Albany I decided to see what I could get going by visiting the Albany City Hall. Not knowing the routine, I asked a man standing there inside the front door with a clip board in hand where I could see the mayor. He replied, Dont ask me. Hes right there at his desk. Just go see him.” I walked in and was greeted by Erastus Corning, III, Mayor. He asked me some form of what he could do to help. I said I was with CDCG looking for garden space to make available to Albany residents.

No one could be prepared for his response. He said, Thats exactly what I’ve had on my to-do list for some time now. Just wait while I call Joe at Parks and Rec.” Soon Joe appeared at the mayors office. Mr. Corning indicated me, explained I was with a new non-profit promoting a type of community gardening which sounded a lot like what they had been discussing. Would he work out details with me and report next steps back to the mayor. That was it. Meeting adjourned. I didnt see Mr. Corning after this.

Apparently, he had seen benefits to his city with a garden program for residents without access to land. He was anxious to move ahead. CDCG now began a new program in Albany. Corning was happy, CDCG was happy, and GW chief operating officer, Spiro Vass was jumping for joy. Spiro, it seems, was an Albany resident and was soon on the phone with Mr. Corning. I was also pleased with the amount of help the city provided. They wanted the brownie points created by Parks doing much of the work. We had almost no staff but got program expansion. Soon new community garden sites started happening under the CDCG banner. Almost forgot to mention that my boss was happy as well, I think.

’76’s production bounced back up to six images.

Sketching my way through this story draws our pencil back to Serial Numbers - getting us back on track. Making an image take shape around the theme of actual shipments out-the-door to paying customers tells us that 61,252 Troy Bilt Rototillers were made and sold in 1976.

Despite all the pissing, moaning, philosophizing, and crying over countless cups of coffee, that’s where the rubber hit the road. Compare that with 61,996 units shipped in 1975, I’d have to say that Lyman, our COO, Dean, and the company had little to worry about. The factory was humming along, CDCG was taking shape, and the gardening scene was looking brighter. 

All of which leads us into A.D. 1977 which starts out with serial number 254282. This tells us that the factory produced 61,252 more Troy Bilt tillers since Jan 1, 1976, only a few units less than the previous year’s 62K. Not exactly Ho-Hum; maybe more like clear sailing under blue skies as GWMfg enters yet another year. The factory now had over 250K customers in the till-o-sphere needing support.

One quick story from the annals of CDCG was when I got in touch with Sr. Jean Mittnight, CSJ. She had been helping some Watervliet families to grow food and wanted to use land owned by the Convent, as I recall. We offered to use our resources to prepare the land, to lay out individual plots to create a new site off the side of Delatour Road. She agreed to work out details like permission for us to operate as an outside entity. All was quickly agreed. Sister Superior would sign, but as it happened, she was in Japan. Spring was upon us, and we needed to plow asap.

In the end, Sr. Jean said, Oh just go ahead. Ive learned its much easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.” We went ahead and had a well-attended site program for many years.

1977 brought CDCG to two years of operation. We were a totally separate entity from GWMfg. I no longer have the data, as many years separate today from then. As I recall, we had a number of on-going garden sites around the Capital Region, a working Board of Directors and recognition from the community. I had an assistant, Bob Duff, who was a very committed and capable helper in this program.

At that point, I felt I had given Dean what he had asked for. Moving on with my life, I decided “Almost Tiller Heaven” was no longer working for me. I signed up for classes at Empire State College as a next step and resigned from GWMfg. CDCG continued with Bob Duff as director. It survives today as Capital Roots under the leadership of Amy Klein. Its growth and presence in today’s world is astonishing. I am proud of any part I had in this start-up turned visionary program.                                            

**************

From ’77 to ’82, the reader will have to assign the proper number of bouncy TB images.

Meanwhile, back on the story track built by our trusty Serial Numbers, production continued at the tiller factory.

1977 turned out 50,280 tillers bringing the total units built to date to 304,562. That’s 11,000 fewer units than in 1976. So what? I have no info that would indicate a reason, so stay in your seats.
1978 production made up for it with 64,059 tillers out the door.
1979 upped the ante to 71,115, and
1980 topped them all with 78,000 units through the shipping dock.
1981 Slipped back just a bit, with 71,700 and
1982 came in with a still lower 60,000 by the end of the year.  

It might be interesting to note that the total production to date as of December 1982 was 649,518. Just under 650,000 big red Troy Bilt Rototillers were now alive and well in the Till-O-Sphere. In 1962, when TB #101 was first seen at the Schaghticoke Fair, only hope was alive and well.

The Coup D’etat of 1982

With twenty years of growth and no end in sight, ’82 turned out to be chaotic. Lyman’s marketing group continued to produce orders for new tillers while the factory cranked them out. Employee numbers grew to make GW the largest employer in Troy. About 800 people now were employed at the factory, while another 300 were employed in various tasks in Vermont.

A two-faction phenomenon developed known as the “Troy People” and the “Vermont Contingent.” This all began about 1962 when George Done produced a new Tiller to replace the loss of the “Model T” which was in complicated limbo with only a few unconvinced dealers as a marketing plan (see “RototilleR – the 60’s”).

Back then, George Done, needing help with sales called Lyman, remembering his refused offer of help to Kelsey. Lyman had moved his advertising business to Burlington, Vermont, and was living nearby in his summer camp-now-permanent home. His client list included the State of Vermont’s Advertising Account.

Done had engaged Lyman’s Vermont advertising guys on the Rototiller case, resulting in twenty years of sales success. In turn, this made GW a phenomenon in Troy, though few locals knew who controlled the company.

Since the agreement in 1962 when Done paid Lyman in company shares instead of cash, the marketing people had become majority owners of company stock. Lyman and his marketing partners had control of the company. They would decide where the profits went, which they did, according to Lyman’s wishes.

That’s the root of the chaos mentioned above.

Lyman had earned his majority position. Without his marketing help in ’62, Troy Bilt would not have happened, and RototilleR would have ceased to exist. On the other hand, without the thirty-odd year existence of Troy’s tiller factory, Lyman would not have had his golden opportunity. Worse yet, Troy would be unknown to the world’s gardeners. Go figure!

Dissatisfaction among segments of people working together is a given; it happens. But things in Troy seemed to go well. Employees were well paid, had benefits and respect. There had been unionization attempts several times, all shot down by satisfied employees. Vermonters working for Lyman in various assignments thought of the company as “mission driven.” They loved it. But where did the money come from? Well, er, ummm, Garden Way in Troy, NY!

“Who’s doing the heavy lifting? Who’s going along for the ride?” were the questions being asked by higher-level employees of both the Vermont and Troy camps. Troy execs saw money financing Vermont projects they did not comprehend, sowing resentment. Mission driven Vermont people saw fulfillment heading their way from profits their marketing skills had produced. It was a classic tug-o-war. Homer’s Odyessy, once again, revisited. Vermont guys produced the sales; Troy guys produced the goods. They got along nicely, until they didn’t. Vermont guys who owned controlling stock saw a dream being fulfilled, while Troy guys saw pie in the sky. It ended with enough of Lyman’s Vermont stockholders switching fealty to the Troy guys.  

At the Board meeting of January 28th, 1982, in Troy a new coalition of stockholders led by Dean declared 51% ownership, which brought control to the Troy people. It was the end of one chapter; the beginning of another.

From that trail-marking January 1982 Board meeting, now with the “Troy People” wearing the skipper’s hat, let’s see what our Serial Numbers are saying. Production for ’82 was a healthy 60,000 units, slightly less than the just-under 72,000 for ’81 and the all-time high of 80,000 in ‘80. With a two-year production slide of 20,000 units, we’re talking a 25 percent drop. Should management be worried? Are sales showing some weakness? Or should we be looking at the turbulent waters experienced prior to the recent re-shuffling of management?

Changes in Tiller Design - as a function of Cost and Market

It had to happen. “Don’t Mess with Success” was what Lyman appeared to be thinking. From my perspective, twenty years of Troy Bilt production had produced very little in the way of product change or refinement (despite cries from owners). Several motor options were still available, 20” tilling width was the same (though there were indications that average garden sizes were shrinking), furrower and plow blade were still offered. Only reverse had been upgraded to a much smoother-acting rubber disc. After twenty years of “same-old/same-old,” Big Red had become ho-hum, and the market was changing. Lyman’s marketing success and the first law of physics had kept product improvement at bay. Now the Coup had thrown Lyman under the bus.

Sales kept coming in; the boys in sales and marketing were busy. It seems they had been aware of the need to keep abreast of the market. An important change became ready to hit the 1982 market.

The Power Take Off (PTO) Horse of 1982: A major change of the tiller transmission was introduced, a totally new design made to accommodate “attachments.” The new transmission featured a PTO which would enable the bread-and-butter Horse unit to accept attachable products to increase its range and utility.

The serial numbers reveal that ’82 produced 60,000 Troy Bilt tillers; 20,000 fewer than the 1980 production of 80,000 units. And now we see the introduction of the PTO. So, someone was scratching their head, someone had been pushing the panic button and pounding the table back in the halls of management. The declining Serial Numbers don’t make value judgements, don’t play the blame-game, and don’t monitor board-room conversations. They only tell us facts; management steers the ship.

And now we see that product design actually had been on the table as though anticipating the downturn in sales. Should they provide lower cost or better performance? They chose the latter path. Here to tell you how that path was taken is Mr. Charles (Choppy) Wicker, who had firsthand experience with these new developments at the factory:

The 1982 PTO Troy-Bilt Tiller was key to our continued growth. But to fully appreciate this story, we need to look at another change that led up to it: our marketing method. 

The early 1980’s were competitive times for the Tiller Factory. For many years during the late 60’s and early 70’s, Garden Way and the Troy-Bilt tiller pretty much had the market to themselves. This was due to the “under the radar” nature of mail-order marketing that went right to the end user rather than attracting public attention with flashy local dealerships all over the country. Most gardeners either used hand tools or cheap, “Old Shaky” front tine tillers. Most companies felt there was no market for higher priced, rear-tined tillers.

Then other competitors started to become aware of our success. Roto-Hoe of Ohio, BCS America (Italian) and others started to promote rear-tined tillers on our coattails.

Our response was to start a program of “Local Presence.” We built the first (of five across the country) Garden Way Living Center in Burlington, VT. These were factory-owned and staffed stores where we sold not only tillers, but hundreds of other gardening products and tools, including of course, the Garden Way Cart, Garden Way Books, and specialty products like the Squeezo strainer. Continuing with Choppy’s reflections:

Our expert engineers proposed a solution: a split shaft, extra set of bearings, and a control lever to disengage the tines. Worked well. Only problem: extra cost – without a commensurate increase in real value. We looked for ways to deliver better value.

So, we redesigned the back of the Horse so that the tine clutch could not merely disconnect the revolving tines, but you could remove them and the whole hood away from the front transmission, wheels, engine, and handlebars. It only took a couple of minutes to change the lever, loosen two swing bolts (we even supplied the wrench), drive the front portion away from the tine section, and back it up to the attachment.

’85 was a four-image year; ’86 was down to three; ’87 had only two.

So much for “Product Changes as a function of Cost and Market.” The Troy Bilt Rototiller had been transformed into a product that would accept attachments driven by its own motor.  It was now more useful, could handle more tasks, and was more expensive. That was the trade-off going in, and it’s what we got going forward.

Sales had declined from 1980 to 1982, pushing the urgency for change to the PTO. Sales in 1983, with the addition of the PTO and a higher retail Sticker-Price, declined again to 52,800. January 1984 opened with serial number 702873, a PTO unit, waiting at the shipping dock.

To many, it might seem that slower production would mean bad news. But without evidence to support that, it could be that new pricing had built in a more favorable profit structure.

Once again, let’s see what our “sees all, knows all” third-rail Serial Number discipline has to say? We find that 1984 turned out 59,700 units, as opposed to 52,800 in ’83- a tidy increase! Hmmmm, maybe the market really would be willing to pay a premium for a more useful product? If so, then sales should stabilize or even show some increase. But unless management had some other strategy in mind, it has become clear that “increasing cost to increase utility” was not what the market had in mind, despite being a plausible strategy.

1984 produced sales of 59,000 PTO units
1985 44,000 units
1986 36,500 units
1987 24,000 units

See what I mean? 20/20 hindsight is so bloody annoying.
All of which brings us to the next chapter:

Who’s in Charge?

This article showed up in the May 1987 issue of Business New York, the trade publication of the Business Council of New York State, Inc. It tells its readers that Diversification is now the strategy of Garden Way which will shape the future of Jairo Estrada’s company.

Does “his company” mean the company that Estrada works for, or the company that he owns?     

A fair question, I would say. And I might also say the answer is “both, and.”

Since the Coup d’état in 1982, Estrada has picked up more control and now has controlling interest. He also works at GW and collects a paycheck. In any event, Estrada is the boss. He makes the decisions and takes the responsibility. He has stated that diversity is the way the company is headed. What this will look like is TBD.

Staying with the Serial Number routine might give us a clue, so let’s wander over there and have a look.

We left you in 1987 with annual production of 24,000 tillers out the shipping door, and the story about diversity being the company’s new direction. With production as recently as 1980 of 80,000 units (an all-time high) in the rear-view mirror, and a production drop of 20,000 following in 1981, we begin to see the picture. Maybe the 1982 coup d’état is making some sense, as well as the recent drastic change over to the PTO Horse, which was unthinkable previously. A drop in sales is a message that something is going on in the market that they didn’t see coming, and more frightening, that they were not prepared for.

So, with this picture in front of us, Estrada is in charge. We’re going to leave it there, for now, promising to come back later to the company that put Troy, NY on the Garden Map of the USA, and tie a ribbon around the whole package.

Changes to the Garden Scene

Garden size is one factor that played a major role in Troy Bilt’s market share. While gardening in America was growing in popularity and practice, the average garden size in square feet was changing dramatically. Smaller gardens were growing in popularity. Demographics of new housing showed more smaller houses being built on increasingly smaller lots. This was bad news for Troy Bilt, whose Horse model tiller was suited for larger garden plots, though not adequate for the various needs of small farms. The ground was slipping under the feet of either sleepy, or possibly perplexed, execs who didn’t know what to do about it.

Then came along notions like no-till gardening, which didn’t constitute a serious threat to Troy Bilt. Some small market farmers might have been tempted to switch to no-till, but the practice didn’t affect the tiller market much.

To farmers who use greenhouses, tilling’s results were convincing. Jamie Snyder is an organic market gardener who grows a lot of produce under the cover of a plastic dome. He told me once, “I just like to till.” That makes the case for a lot of greenhouse farmers: its size was ideal, and results matter.

Did this constitute a market segment for Troy Bilt? Yes, if we’re talking about Used TB’s. But for the factory, it was too late! All this was happening about twenty years after TB went out of business in 2001, and the company was only a memory for fans. Market Grower/Farmers now could buy used TB’s in good condition for Five to Eight hundred dollars rather than the three thousand or so, the price tag for brand new tillers when the factory was still operating. All of a sudden, when they were affordable, they were hot property.

So, What Sunk the Good Ship GW? Was it price? Of course! Could they do anything about It? Probably not, while maintaining their image. We know what happened when they tried to make it do more chores, don’t we. GW would have to re-invent itself in a totally new way, and that was culturally out of the question. They were stuck with high-cost manufacturing because the high-cost product was their image; it was heresy to think otherwise. When volume was high, they could get away with it, but lower sales volume sent the ship down faster than a bullion-laden Galleon in a tornado off the coast of Santo Domingo.

In both cases, the game was to reinvent or die; neither was up for it.

For a company that was good to employees and good with community relations, GW was not good enough, it seems, at discerning what customers were thinking. Friends tell me I’m wrong about this, that the company was in close touch with customers. But the Serial Number regimen has the loudest voice. Numbers decreased each year from 1982 to 2000. Quod erat demonstrandum…

A few related points:

* Company neglect of customers’ need for small changes: Of course, customers complained; often and with passion. Was there any company effort to understand what they were saying? Of course not. The service manager was mute. Word from “on high” said no changes would be entertained. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Period!
What did the serial numbers say?

* Cumbersome design: Once in the garden, the tiller did its job with honors, hence its success, but it was clumsy to handle, like an elephant seal out of the water.
What did the serial numbers say?

* Garden Way Owner News - Lack of effective feedback: The Owner News went out to every owner. It was a newsprint paper with stories of happy owners using the tiller in various local scenarios, mechanization of small plot agriculture at its best. Good stuff. But, again, it was not intended for management to hear what owners didn’t like, or to see what storm clouds might be gathering; the bosses were fat and happy deluding themselves. No one had an ear to the ground looking for essential feedback. The content was pat-on-the-back, celebratory. It did exactly what it was meant to do.
What did the serial numbers say?

* Company Attitude: “We are King of the Mountain - no need to worry.”
What did the serial numbers say?

Let’s indulge in another method of analytical scrutiny:

* Customer Demographics: Who were the people who paid cash to buy a TB?
Where did they live?
What were their incomes?
Can we see any patterns?

The answers should be readily available to a company that took pride in customer contact and service.

* Product Cost:  What was the cost to produce one TB?
Could that number be changed without reducing product performance?

* Schtick: What did the product have going for it that caused people to buy it?    
What was the cultural/real reason behind that decision?
Was it cult motivated when sales were good?

The answers to these three questions would reveal an understanding of what sunk the ship.

Before we tie it up and put a pretty ribbon around this tale, there is one more important task to do: Explain to readers the real purpose of this story!

This story is about a company that did not define its purpose up front. Yes, they made Rototillers and other garden related products, until they didn’t. Was that the way it was intended, to make a product until its market disappears?  For the benefit of long-term success, more thought is needed.

Every enterprise, business, not for profit, and community project needs a statement of purpose, in writing, available to all employees, before the doors are open. Questions like, What are we trying to accomplish? Why are we here? Do we need a set of founding principles, a clear mission statement or a code of ethics? Besides a sail, a ship needs a keel for stability, and a rudder for direction.

Troy, NY has seen quite a few manufacturing organizations make the national scene with all but one of them gone. A partial list would include:

The Burden Iron Works which supplied most of the horseshoes used in the Civil War.
The horseshoe market shrunk, but iron products are still made.

 Ludlow Valve produced most of the Fire Hydrants used in American cities.
Iron is still poured into shapes and marketed everywhere.

 The Fuller & Warren Stove Company shipped iron stoves throughout North America.
The stove market still drives today.

The John A. Manning Paper Company manufactures industrial paper products.
They adapted to change and are still in business today.

Cluett, Peabody & Company was a major supplier of ready-made collars, cuffs, and clothing.
They moved to the south for cheaper labor.

*   Rototiller, Inc/Garden Way Mfg. - Introduced America to Rotary Tillage.
They couldn’t adapt to change and went out of business. 

Why would we grieve for Garden Way’s departure when other Troy firms of national importance did the same?

Did any of these firms have a vision with a set of Organizational Principles?
If they did, would Burden still be making the iron products of today?
Would GW still be making today’s mechanized gardening equipment? 

I rest my case on the assumption that if all or most of Troy’s firms with national reach had addressed the needs of all their constituencies: customers, employees, suppliers, and neighborhoods, that some would still be thriving today with remarkable results.

End of the Rototiller, Inc. to Garden Way Mfg. Story

It’s been yet another Odyssey type of story, don’t you think? Or more like a roller coaster ride?

Automotive pioneer, Cadwalader Washburn Kelsey started out in 1930, using his gear and shaft expertise to  mechanize gardening and small farming. George Done used his mechanical creativity to rescue the company—not once, but twice—with a new design that accommodated owner-feedback, “in the nick of time.” 

Lyman Wood used his advertising skills to tell this story directly to the only constituency out there that gave a hoot about soil fertility and would gladly pay for a product that made sense to them—to wit: the gardening public. And Dean Leith, a passionate promoter of the TB Rototiller and everything gardening, told everyone who cared to listen (and some who didn’t) about “the whole sense and purpose” of the enterprise.

Whew! Anymore of that miso soup in the pot? 

Heard on WAMC Radio, 6/09/24:
“There’s nothing we can do but to keep on living and helping others to survive.”

Postscript:
After leaving GW in 1977, I signed up for a course at Empire State College, which is known as “a school without walls.” I could complete this course on my own time while working a job. My Topic of Study was “Ethics and Business.” I was anxious to discover what Academia thought about this subject. Did any rules exist about a business’s treatment of all the constituencies involved, directly or collaterally, such as owners, employees, customers, suppliers and neighborhoods?  

Here is a quote from one of the papers I wrote for the course in 1977:

Ethics & Business II

Lets assume there is such thing as corporate social responsibility that goes beyond the maximizing of profits for owners. This means, approximately, that there is a perceived need to do more than just meet minimum standards in all phases of business life; that we perceive a need to live up to some ethical standard within the business in an attempt to improve the quality of life of those involved. Whatever that system may be, the question here is how to regulate the business to conform to this yet unspecified but better system?

Here’s another quote from a 1979 paper:

Ethics & Business IV

INTRODUCTION: The purpose of this paper is to discuss some thoughts about how to increase productivity, and therefore profits, by improving the quality of work life. All the techniques outlined here are not for every company; nor is there any attempt on my part to suggest that a company should adopt these techniques. All I am trying to say is that (a) there is a positive correlation between improving work life quality and increasing productivity and profits, and (b) if a company wants to do something in this direction, as many have, then the best way to go about it is to work out a clear, easily understood ethical system to govern the way people relate to each other in the business, in order to make these techniques more successful.

JRP
jrscompostpile.com

Sources:
[1] Gardening Beyond the Plow, Copyright 1981, Garden Way, Inc.
[2] The Rototiller in America, Copyright 2003, Donald A. Jones
[3] What a Way to Live and make a living, Copyright 1994 by Roger Griffith and Lyman Wood