 These are the weavers, the pattern makers, the keepers of the wolf and wolf. Even as we watch, the pattern emerges, the squares are completed, the circles joined, and more is woven here than cloth. Dreams are made here, and hope, and a thousand promises. Behold them at their task. The weavers, the pattern makers. More than cloth is made here. Look closely, and observe the pattern for tomorrow. The National Broadcasting Company in collaboration with the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation presents Pattern for Tomorrow. The fourth in a series of programs describing what we believe to be one of the most significant developments of our time. The growth of the South. To witness this growth, and to catch on our tape recorders the voices and the sounds of this latter-day revolution, we made a pilgrimage. Set out like some youngest son and the old legends to see what hills lay beyond the hills. Our guide and companion on our pilgrimage is NBC correspondent Henry Cassidy. Mr. Cassidy. For those of you who are just joining us on our journey, let me point out that I'm a stranger to these southern roads, these hills, these soft accents, and gentle ways. I was born in New England, and some of my early memories are of facing into wind and snow, and struggling down the little road that led from my house to school. The land, rock, strewn, and gaunt, was as hard as the history of the people who built the stone walls and wooden houses, and stood defiant before the storm. As a journalist, my way was to lie along many a twisted road, Paris, Moscow, Casablanca, but there was one vast area I did not know, the southern part of my own country. So I was pleased to learn that I had been chosen for this journey through the South, a journey in search of facts, of information, of truth, perceived more easily perhaps because of my ignorance of the region. When one has few preconceived notions, the way to learning is sometimes easier, and so it was with us. We had not been long upon our way when one aspect of the New South thrust itself upon us, much as the pyramids or the colossus of roads must have burst upon the ancient traveler. This was a new industry that had but lately come to the south, textiles. In the Carolinas, Georgia, Alabama, we saw huge buildings where they told us a decade or so ago, folks used to hunt rabbits and the creatures that move at night. We heard the hum of giant dynamos, watched freight cars heavy with textiles with new synthetics and fabrics to bring envy into the eyes of the can of cafe. Whence came this change? Where are the beginnings? Why this change now and here? For the beginning, let's go to the pleasant sun-splashed office of Mr. Sadler Love of the American Cotton Manufacturers Institute. It was at Charlotte, North Carolina, autumn had come and the land that stretched out beyond the windows seemed warm and rich with the bounty of the season. The dying of the year seemed to bring a time for reflection, for seeking out the beginnings. Why, Mr. Love, I asked, why this renaissance in textiles now? Where are the beginnings? Of course, as you probably recall from your history books, the south had very little industry prior to the Civil War. This was an agrarian, an agricultural economy. It was almost exclusively farming and industry was spotty. There were a few plants, but they were scattered around over the south. There was no major industry, as we know it today, of any type, textiles or any other. Well, now we're back about 1865, are we? Yes, we're back to Appomattox. And then what happened then? Well, after Appomattox, the southern soldiers came back from the war and they found an area that was devastated. We don't want to refight here, the Civil War or the war between the states. But at the same time, we might point out that an English writer of about that time said that the south was the most devastated area ever occupied by an English-speaking people following 1865. Now, it was to that sort of a home that the southern soldiers came back. And I think, without any reflection on our foreign neighbors, we could say that the south had no marshal plan. Instead, we facetiously say down here that we had a Sherman plan. Now, the Sherman plan was burnt cities, destroyed farms. Now, it was in an atmosphere somewhat like that, that the textile industry first began to grow in the south. Now, you might well ask, if the area was that devastated, how did it grow? It grew like this. It grew by the installment sale of stock to withers, orphans, ministers, farmhands, bankers, schoolteachers, and others. It sold for 50 cents to a dollar a week. And from these very, very small installment payments, the textile industry began. I'd like to cite for you the fact that, as far as we know, the cotton textile industry has had the largest percentage increase in average hourly earnings since 1939 of any major industry in America. Now, that means more than just a larger paycheck. That means better shoes for more children. It means that more children go to school for more years. It means that textile boys who once went into the mill at perhaps 16 years of age to work on our road scholars. There were others to add to this story. Men trained to watch the shifting ways of economic growth. This new development has not escaped them. They have come and watched, and in the manner of a physician who presides over the growth of a lusty boy, there is pride as they talk of the progress. Listen to Professor James A. Morris, Professor of Economics at the University of South Carolina. It's a matter primarily, of course, of cost. The most important cost in the textile industry is labor cost. And since there is a difference in labor productivity and in wages between textile plants in New England and in the South, that appears to me to be the most important factor. There are other savings available in power costs, taxes, but labor cost is the major factor, I think. We can state that South Carolina is now the number one cotton textile state in the Union, with North Carolina second. In terms of woolen and wisteds, whereas about 15 years ago, there was just about none in this part of the country. Now about 10 or 15 percent of the capacity is here. In terms of synthetics, all of the new plants are being built here, and I would say perhaps 75 percent of the industry is in this part of the country. And now there is something new to be added to a story whose beginnings are lost in time. Stretch back to the day when some ancient Chinese philosopher craftsmen first pondered on the slender but curiously strong membrane that came from a cocoon. Synthetics. Man made thread as infinitely subtle as silk itself. It was Mr. Love again who gave us the story. The majority of this great growth of recent years has come about from the synthetics industry. As you will recall, it's only been relative to a few years ago for those of our particular age era that the ladies were talking about silk stockings all the time. You put me way back too. You haven't seen any silk stockings lately, have you? I haven't asked. I think you'll find today that practically all stockings are now on. You won't find any cotton stockings either. We might as well admit to start with. Yes, cotton stockings are about as common these days as a bargain basement bustle and about as hard to find. It was at the huge Selanese corporation plant near Rock Hill, South Carolina that we got the second half of the story, got it from one who as much as any other perhaps has followed the development of synthetics in the South. Mr. Alex Rose, manager of the Sel River Plant of the Selanese Corporation of America. The development of man-made fibers, that has been the reason for the pronounced increase in the textile industry in the South. The raw materials for our industry are wood pulp and cotton lenders, both sources of cellulose. That is the basic material from which this acetate fiber is made. Cotton, of course, from the Southern States and wood from which pulp is made from the Northeast and the Northwestern part of the country. Could you tell us a bit about the development of the process itself? That is how it came about. Well, this process was developed originally in England. The first American plant was located at Cumberland, Maryland. This is the third plant in this country built by the Selanese Corporation and is the newest and largest acetate plant in the country. How about the industry as a whole? What would you say is the future of the textile industry in the South? I feel very optimistic about the future of the textile industry in the South. It would seem to me that because of the many advantages the South has, labor, taxes, natural facilities that plants need such as water supply and so forth, I would think that the future is extremely bright. Of course, the old survived. You see it on the long plains that sweep down to the rivers. You see it crated and bailed and musty smelling on the docks. Cotton, white and clean and beautiful as though nature tried to recompense for the snows that bring their loveliness to other lands. Cotton, you could write the history of this land in these tiny bursts of whiteness, small enough to be held in a man's hand, huge enough to leave their mark across half a continent. Time seems reluctant to surrender in these fields, but even here we can mark the change. Listen, the sound of a motor has replaced the music. The energy released from gasoline does the work of the muscular shoulders and the strong hands. Listen to this, here is how cotton is planted this year of Grace 1954. A number of years ago, we used to use mules, plows, manual labor, and now we have converted over to tractor farming completely. Bill Foreman, owner and manager of the huge lakeside plantation in Proctor, Arkansas. Bill, what does all this mean in terms of men and ours? By this mechanization, we've been able to reduce the number of men from 150 to nine. Well, it takes a man for each machine. In other words, on this farm we have nine tractors, it takes nine tractor drivers to operate the operation. After you have your ground bedded and then hair it off, while you have your four-row planter, start planting your cotton. Now, here he is coming right now planting these four-row cotton. In other words, we used to have to plant with one row by mule and then we had the two-row mule planter and this saves us all that labor now. In other words, we have one man who would do the work of four on a job like that. But your ancient enemies, are they still here? What of the bull weevil and his always hungry cousins? How goes the fight? Well, the cotton gets the rank that we can't pause them by tractor. We have to pause them with plane. See, they get right down on the cotton. The wheels are right in the cotton. And put that pause now. They have a spray machine and they spray it. That really gets those bull weevils through. And another voice, J.C. Huffman. No newcomer to these long fields. He began raising cotton when there were still men around who could tell you first hand of Chancellor'sville and Gettysburg. Here is one who was looked on the old and the new. When I first came to Arkansas, we farmed with mules. Now we have changed to equipment, tractors, cotton pickers, and other equipment that goes with it. But as we said, time is reluctant to surrender and memory has its leechmen, even as they present in the future. Mr. Huffman, how go with you the new ways? I still like the old farming way. Not too much this way. But Mr. Huffman, I suspect, stands alone or almost so. Even as he spoke, the future seemed to crowd down upon us upon these sun-splashed fields in the soil, rich with the promise of the coming crop. We deal now in new words, tech structure, power supply, facility of transportation, and a hidden ingredient, a subtle thing that has to be charted and analyzed before the full story can be told. It was Jake Craig Smith, president of Avondale Mills in Silicon Cargo, Alabama, who carried on the tale, who first told us of the things that cannot be understood in terms of economics alone. Cotton mills generally all have the same type of equipment. The textile industry has no patents, which of any consequence. So we feel that in order to make a better product, that we must emphasize the attitude of the people who operate those machines. In each department, we have a bulletin board on which we are placing the name of the person who, during the past week, produced the best cloth. And we feel that recognition, which comes to those who are doing the better quality work, results in an improvement in our quality. In our company, where we have a partnership arrangement and where all of us profit or lose together, the recognition takes on a very concrete shape after the profits have been made. Yes, I was going to say, Mr. Smith, that if I had my choice of having my name on that bulletin, or getting a little extra money, I just might take the cash. Well, that's possibly true, Mr. Cassidy, but I'm not so sure that the standing that you would have in our mill wouldn't be just as important to you as a little more money in your pocket, if that's our theory. Move farther south, cross the line that separates South Carolina from Georgia, and the story is the same. J. M. Cheetham, President of Dundee Mills in Griffin, Georgia. Mr. Cheetham, perhaps I could ask you, would you give us a general survey of the role of the textile industry in Georgia? The textile industry happens to be Georgia's number one industry from the standpoint of payrolls, employment, and value of goods produced. Then it's textiles that's the main livelihood of the people of Georgia. We think so. How old, Mr. Cheetham, are the Dundee Mills? Our company was started in 1888. And then your old citizen of the South, of the company is? Well, we feel like we are. Do you find any changes among your employees? Well, I think all down the line, we're getting a little more progressive. Our working conditions continue to improve, and we see a better feeling all the way around. Do you actually live in the city, in town? Approximately half of them live on our own village. And the other half, I'd say, is split equally between the city proper and live on farms. Quite a few of them own their own places out in the country. And do they work their farms as well as work in the mills? Yes, with an eight-hour shift, you can see that there's plenty of time left to raise a few cows and plant a few acres of grain. But it's gaining in popularity because it provides an extra income that oftentimes proves quite beneficial. And there were other voices to tell us this story. I remember one afternoon when I wandered out into the yard that stretches behind the huge Avondale Mill at Silicoga. There I met Mr. Wiley Jones, a worker in the mill. We chatted for a while in the manner of two persons whose paths cross for a moment. And then Mr. Jones, it developed, had been working in the textile mills for more years than one cared to question. He had seen the old and the new. How much I asked him, did you make when you first started work? I made 60 cents a day for 12 hours. 60 cents a day? A day for 12 hours. And what were you making when you got through? I was making a dollar and 55 cents an hour. More per hour than you made per day when you began. And I suppose you've seen a great change in working conditions. Well, I certainly have. No comparison in it. The first mill that you ever worked in, do you recall it? In Converse South Carolina. What was that like, Mr. Jones? Well, it was just a mill and threw up houses. The houses were rough lumber, boarded up and down, painted white with lime. Any light? No lights, no electricity. I had to use the old oil lamp. And it was a queen? No, sure it was. Well, how about the last place you worked, Mr. Jones? What did that look like? Well, it was modern enough to date to village. I lived in the village until just before I retired and I bought me a home outside of the mill village. But I can see that here there is no longing for the good old days. No, no, no, none, whatever. All this, of course, has echoes far beyond this factory yard. It changes the production plans of an automobile manufacturer in Michigan. The founding ticker machines that register supply and demand show an upswing in buyers of meat, bread, copper piping, insulated windows, oil paintings. It can be measured in the lower incidents of TB, in the new science building going up on the campus of the still young college. It's almost unbelievable the things that are being done in the south. Now, this is William H. Greer, executive vice president and general manager of the Rock Hill printing and finishing company, a division of M. Lowenstein and so on. He speaks softly. But for those who listen closely, there is the sound of thunder. Here are words of a revolution, no less than those of Jefferson or of Franklin. That we haven't had before. In fact, it's almost unbelievable for a person in our plant that wants his child to go to college, that he can't get some way to get that child to college. We have a scholarship program here and we are just one of the few companies that have this scholarship program. We insist that our people send their children to college if they want to send them to college. Well, it looks to me, Mr. Greer, as though this is an excellent example of enlightened management when you're able to give your workers better homes, better food, better education. And in the long run, I would suppose that from that, you get better men and a better product. I don't think there's any question about that, sir. In the past, of course, the center of the textile industry in this country has been, in my part of the country, in New England. But of late, the balance has begun to change. Lower taxes and abundance of water power and ample labor supply. Whatever the reason, the scales are beginning to reach a balance. Listen to this voice. It's the voice of the New South, confident, assured, no longer paying tribute to an ancient debt. Dave Crampford, his name is, an employee in the finishing plant at Rock Hill. He spoke for himself, but in a larger sense, for all young people in the South who have turned their backs on the past. People seem to think that the North is still a little ways ahead of the South, but we feel down here that we can do just as well as the people in the North. And if they are ahead of us, they aren't very far, and we're catching up, and we're catching up fast. Music Back December, 1949, I purchased a house from Avondale Mills, and I bought it on a plan that I could pay for, and not be in a strain. This house cost me twenty two hundred dollars. I paid two hundred and twenty dollars down. My payments are eight dollars a month. The company pays the insurances and the tax, and at any time that we need money to make any improvements, we have a credit unit we can go to, which is operated through Avondale Mills. Well, when we first began working at Avondale, we didn't accumulate for a while, wages were low, and we just got over depression in the United States, but we joined the Avondale Mill Credit Union and began having so much deducted from our salaries each week. And then we paid for a house in the village, and at the present time, we're paying on the one we live in, have been living in fifteen years, and have done about two thousand dollars with an improvement on this present home we're living in. We have two children, a boy and a girl. The boy's ten years old and the girl's twelve. They both go to Comer School, B.B. Comer School. One is in the fourth grade and the other is in the fifth. They play ball at the Comer playground. They have a chaffer room that takes care of them while they're playing these games and also sees that they get away back home. They have uniforms. B.B. Comer School, Tiger. I have a fifteen-year-old son that's in the B.B. Comer Memorial Band, and he wears a uniform with a Comer signal. He's a wonderful man. She said, he's a wonderful man. Now there's a spontaneous introduction that any of us I think might cherish. Donald B. Comer, chairman of the Executive Committee of the Avondale Mills. Many honors have come to him in his long and adventurous life, but none I venture to say more gracious than the few words of one of his employees. Donald Comer, one who has looked down the past but planned always for the future. I grew up in Barbara County, Alabama. It was on a cotton plantation, and at times I thought that I would be a cotton planter. And when after coming home from the army and... What war was that, Mr. Comer? The Spanish-American War. Your two wars ahead of me. And I went back to the plantation with my older brother. And was there when my father was elected governor. And at that time he asked me if I wouldn't leave the plantation and come to the Cotton Mills while he went to Montgomery, Alabama. And so I changed from agriculture to industry almost overnight. But your father then, Mr. Comer, was the actual founder of the Avondale Mills at your chairman of the Board of Now? He built the first unit in Birmingham, Alabama in 1897. So you have had the experience of going through life with this whole textile industry in the cellar? That's pretty well, yes. Could you tell me a little bit about the actual development of that industry? Well, the general impression might be that the textile industry moved from, we'll say, the north of New England into the south. And because primarily that we had sheep wages and long hours and child labor. But any agricultural country seeking to be more self-supporting turned to the first step in industry, which is to make something to wear. So it was only natural for the southern farmer to want to manufacture here cotton good with his own labor. And now we spend about 80% of the cotton in this country in the south. In this change, Mr. Comer, do you see any change in people? Most marketer so. When I first went into the mills in 1907, for instance, the wages were a dollar a day. Hours were 12 hours. People made just enough money to buy a bear amount of food. A cotton mill wicker in any area in the south compares with the wickers in any other industry. They have their hair curled and they visit the beauty shop and they have the fashions in the different magazines to guide them in their clothes making. And so now people are enjoying all the good things that come from good wages and short hours. Mr. Comer, what is this I hear described in your personnel policy as partnership with people? How does that work out? Well, in 38 we tried what we generally call profit sharing. And in 41 we put it into every plant we have. And we've always been pleased to call that a partnership plan because the first thing that they ask you is, well, what do they do when there are no profits to share? That is that ours is a partnership and that the best and the truest partnership in life that we know of is marriage. Where two people join together for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer. And so we feel it in working together, they're going to be some bad times. And we're going to have to share those as well as the good times. How does it work out to a man? Suppose I went to work today in your mill. How would my partnership with you work out? You would not begin to share a partnership in any oilings until you had worked three months. Then we set aside out of oilings if there are any oilings. 5% for the stockholders on their investment. Then we divide 50-50 between management and employees for any other oilings beyond that. It has run all the way from as high as 41% increase to as low as nothing over these periods since 41. What would you say then is the future for this new South? How do you look at it? With this improved agricultural program with our more and more making in the South, the things that we need ourselves, I think anything that helps us and increases our purchasing power, increases our economic standard, makes us the buyers of the things that are made in the rest of the country. As we grow, we feel like we are a better part of the United States and therefore the United States would be a better place. Well, Mr. Comer, everywhere we've been going, we've been finding these enthusiastic reports of improvements for the people. Is there anybody in the South who longs for the good old days? Well, maybe when I was a younger boy, I used to think about the days on the plantation that we'd read about and I'd sort of wonder if I couldn't have had a better time back there, but I think I'll have a better time now. You like these good new days? I like the good new days. The good new days, it was a refrain, the chorus of a song that we heard over and over again. Not older, but the good new days, not yesterday, but today, tomorrow. Swiftly, they work and ensure the weavers, the pattern makers, the keepers of the wharf and woof. They have waited patiently for this, waited during the long years of darkness. They do not pause those with the swiftly moving hands, the steady eye that marks the ever-growing pattern, for they know that more than cloth is woven here, dreams are here and hope and promises, and the pattern for tomorrow. You have been listening to Pattern for Tomorrow, written and directed by William Allen Vales, produced by Ms. Lee F. Payton, and presented in cooperation with the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation. This has been the fourth in a series of documentaries on the new South. Next week at the same time, our story, the development of the citrus industry. It is planned that other programs will deal with the remarkable growth and changes in other sections of America.