 The two chemistry presents the cavalcade of America starring Jean Lockhart and Lowell Thomas. Good evening everybody. This is Lowell Thomas to tell you about tonight's cavalcade. The story of a man in a small town in Ohio. There are more important stories I suppose and yet there's something special about this one. It's a good story. It's good to be able to tell it and good to know that it's true. It's about a man named Lou Reed and in the part of Lou you're going to hear the Broadway and motion picture star Jean Lockhart. There's a little town in Ohio named Kyle where Lou Reed runs a pottery plant. I heard about the place and I heard about the man so I thought I'd go out and have a look. S-T-I-O, even the name is unusual. The day I arrived Lou Reed met me at the station. Hello Mrs. Thomas. Glad to see you. Come on, I'll show you the town. Kyle is just a little place, 1,400 population. Actually the pottery plant is the whole town and Lou Reed is the pottery plant. But he wasn't treated like an important man and he didn't behave like one. Martin Lou, how's the message? Pretty good Millie. I'm just a addict. Watch out for the splinters. Nice gal Millie. Hi little old. Hi boys. Mr. Thomas, this is a more torsion town record. Martin, shake hands with Mr. Lou Thomas. Oh, pleased to meet you sir. Oh, I thought you were going hard. Well, not this week. Morning Lou. Hello Reverend. Mr. Thomas, shake hands with the Reverend Schilt. Man, it's a pleasure to meet you. I shook hands with the Reverend Schilt from Mr. Spiker the town banker and lawyer Petty and John Grace the Ghostor and two housewives who are out for some noonday marketing. Mr. Thomas, only an important radio commentator like you could do it. I guess this is twice this year. I've seen Lou and a white shirt the next time. Don't pay any attention. She's just rousing me. Goodbye Lou. Goodbye Mr. Thomas. Goodbye Liz. You don't want to do a broadcast about me, Mr. Thomas? No, and I'll tell you why. Mr. Thomas, the story is these people, these people here on file. So come on and you and I will go out and visit the pottery. Perhaps it was because everyone called him Lou and thought he himself was so unassuming. But I didn't expect the pottery to be that big. It was huge, covering what seemed to be seven acres at least. In 1932, style was a ghost town. Nothing much to do except sit around, smoke your corn cob and wait. People didn't know just why they were waiting and for what. They just waited. Perhaps they were waiting for a man named Lou Reed who had friends inside all. And who liked to hunt rabbits? Hey, wait a minute. Take it easy fellas. What's the matter, Jim? Do you have a rabbit? No, but I think Lou does. Stop. Don't go here. Don't go here. Shoot. Shoot what? Shoot scared away. What? That building there? You mean you don't see a rabbit? No. What's that building doing out here, darling? Well, it looks like it's doing. It's going to Roan. What kind of a building was it? Oh, come on. Let's you grab it. Oh, wait a minute. What was it, Jim? It used to be a pottery. It closed down for years. Come on, let's go. Well, let's take a look at it. What for? I'll tell you what you find. Broken, windows gone. Stuck inside all shut. It might be pretty cheap, huh? Maybe it wouldn't cost much to buy it. You kidding. You haven't got two nickels to rub together. Well, I got $1,100 I can cash out of my worldwide insurance. Come on, let's take a look. Oh, I'm not. Let's go, Hunter. Come on, Lou. We started to get some rabbits. No, I would too. Go ahead if you wanted to. I'm taking a look at that building. I got a feeling I should find my rabbit. Oh, they tell the story as though it were the beginning of a great legend. And perhaps they are right. They tell how Lou stood looking at the place. He walked around the thing just from this side, then the other side. It was tumbled down, ramshackle, overgrown by weeds. He didn't even notice. Hmm. Do I have an idea how I can do something with that thing? He took his idea into town. He wasn't a style man, but somehow he got the town dentist and the bank cashier. And one or two others got them together and he asked them some questions. I've been looking around style since I came here. Ain't much to say, hello? Well, I don't know. But I can guess this. The business is pretty slowly. I wouldn't say it was slow, I'd say I ain't even human. And I turn and I say, it looks like the house is empty. They have to just go out. Take a look, Lou. Is that your whole house in what? $100 cash. No, no house yet. I'm saving my money to rebuild that pottery. What? Oh, come on, come on, Lou. What makes you believe you can make a go of that thing? I'll tell you. I work in pottery all my life. Oh, what? And I think I know how to cut the time it takes to produce Chinaware. Cut the time right in the hair. It's like this. You see, most of them use two-kill firing. Well, then that's waste and fuel. But if it was me, I'd do it with one firing. And I'd use the waste heat for quick drying. That kind of talks way over my head. No, no, no. Wait a minute. It's very simple. Look here. I scratched this down on a piece of paper. See? All down here. You see this? Now, that thing there stands for conveyor belt assembly lines, just like in an automobile factory. So instead of bringing the people to the work, you're bringing the work to the people. Conveyor belt? Well, that takes money in it. Well, if you're anything takes money. And it's a rest. Well, I tried it to me. But I... Boom. It's gonna take more. I need new people. All right, folks. That's right. I personally think Louie's got something here. Now, what do you think? No, no, no, no, Doc. Times like these plans are closing down. Not opening up. Sure. But it means work for style people. Yes. For the fine right, it means a lot of work. Besides, it means your wife can walk into a dime store and buy a coffee cup for a nickel that's made right here in America. All right. Huh? What do you say? Will you folks help me? How about you, Doc? No, I've got a few hundred dollars. You're welcome to it. Thanks, Doc. Well, now, come on, boys. We've got a man here with a warm idea. Now, let's go and let that idea get cold. Well, come on. Who follows suit? Well, all right. I'll give you a hundred, Louie. Thank you. Thank you. I guess I can spare the same. Thanks a lot. Thanks a lot. Here's mine. I'll go for fifty. I'll give you a hundred. Well, the whole town's going to go crazy. Well, it might have kept my senses. Two hundred for me. He wasn't a man with a silver tongue, but he looked honest and he sounded honest, and he was putting up his own eleven hundred dollars every cent he owned in the world. Somehow, they just couldn't let him down. The money they were able to spare wasn't very much, but it was enough to pay the eight thousand dollars in back taxes that the building was knocked down for at the chair of sales. So, Mr. Lewis P. Reese had bought himself a piece of property. There it is, boys. That's fire or higher pottery. How's she look here? Like a broken down barn. We'll fix that up in no time. And how many months there's no time? Oh, now don't be like that. The main thing is to get rid of the upright kills and put in the circular kills and stay. And then the rules, well, if we're lucky, members of this will do. Otherwise, we'll have to build a new loop. I got it all figured out. Come on now, let's get back to town. Wait a minute, we just got here. Why don't we go back? Because this is going to be a big job. I got to get us a labor force. And what are you going to pay your labor force? Is a pay C-A-Y. Pronounce money. Well, both of you are staying there looking at me. I need all I've got. Come on, I'm going into town and ask for volunteers. And what makes you think they're crazy? Because they're the kind of people we are. They hate being on the elite or out of work. This means jobs for style people. Maybe they're crazy like I'm crazy. I hope so. They volunteered the whole town. They drove their geloppies to the broken down pottery, bringing their own saws and hammers and shovels. Dr. Scott came out and the high school principal, the minister, the minister's wife, farmers and their family, working without pay, carting out the dirt, shoveling, sand, pouring cement, doing things they had never done before. For them, they moved right into that clammy, unheated barn of a factory. They lived there for six weeks, working from early morning when it was too dark to see, at night when they were almost too tired to sleep. They slept in their overcoats, gloves on their hands, a cold, dreary barn of a place full of echoes. Tomorrow, I'm going to work on the tunnel field. Okay. You and Don finish the shelving. Okay. And everybody else, pick in on the conveyors. The conveyors are the main things. Okay, okay. Please stop now. Go to sleep. There's a lot of things to do. I can't sleep. Yeah, and my head's full of things to do to you unless you shut up. Yes, but how long? Look, we're tired. We've all done quite a bit, all of them. I know, boys, but it isn't enough. It's like you do what you have to do and then you do a little more. Oh, no way. I'm sorry, boys. I guess I'm a regular slave driver. But tell us. I want to tell you this. It seems to me like I haven't done anything to deserve friends like you. Mr. Reese, your friends are very sweet. How can I ever thank you guys? Please, try a little silence. No, no. I'm serious and we're exhausted. Only a locked head like you would think you had to say anything anyhow. You know, every time my back aches and says to myself, you dumb jerk, that'll teach you to go rabbit hunting with Lou Reese. By early February 1933, the factory was virtually rebuilt. Lou Reese was almost ready to begin. But a pottery needs clay, so Lou talked to a salesman for a big clay company. And now it's because all I needed some clay upon credit. Well, I don't know, credit is... How much do you need, Mr. Reese? Oh, just a little. Oh, it's not much, doll. Oh, and it's all right. How much shall I send you? A two-kiloed. That wasn't all. He talked to Chicago buyer into taking his first cups and saucers. Reese, you've got to remember you're a new outfit. All right, I'll do your favor. I'll buy your cups and saucers practically sight unseen. But pay COD? Lou, it ain't done. This time, however, it was done. The pottery began to operate in February 13, 1933. Lou Reese had thought of everything. Almost. There was one small matter he had forgotten. Boys, my first table on the 23rd comes to exactly 990 dollars and 53 cents. Good, good. That's a nice round number. And how does 53 cents make a round number? You better speak softly, boys. I... It's a matter of... I've got to pay off 990 dollars and 53 cents. I'm a little shy, yeah? Uh-huh, shy. 990 dollars and 42 cents. All I've got is exactly 11 cents. In February 1933, Lou Reese of Tile, Ohio, trying to meet his first payroll, discovered that his total working capital was exactly 11 cents. The Tile people still grin at that recollection. In order to meet that first payroll, Lou had to call a meeting of his friends in the back room of the bank. Hold it! Hold it, everybody! Hold it! Now, let's see. There are 20 of us here. Is that right, Ed? That's right, Doc. All right. If 20 people each put up 100, how much does that come to? Well, uh... Oh, never mind. We'll ask Jay Spiker. He's a banker. How much, Jay? Not to make Lou's first payroll. Then that settles. All right, Lou. It's better than all right, Doc. You know, if I haven't done it, I'll be able to pay the money back. But something you just don't pay back with money. There must be 200 people in Tile who can tell you this story. It's almost as though each one owns a part of the history of Lou Reese, and perhaps each one does. I remember what Lou's secretary told me. Lou's a comic. My name is Lou Hiller. In 1932, Lou Reese was somebody God sent. From the very beginning, we got better wages than anyone in the county. My, it was fine to see the business grow. Each year, more people got jobs. Lou put in a cafeteria and then he added gas, salt, tennis courts, and a ball field, and then a hospital. It got so that after people went home for supper, they came back to the cafeteria for coffee and for card games and to be together. It wasn't just working for a company. It was like all your friends and young friends. Then she told about December 1946. Quiet, folks. Quietly. Um, folks, it's Christmas. Um, when we, when we began the style Ohio pottery company, I said it was going to be our business. Now, American business is run on the principle that the investor is entitled to dividends whenever it's possible to pay them. I got 11 cents, Lou. That's sure. A few years ago when I had to meet my first payroll, all I had was 11 cents. But I, I think we'll do better this time. Now, I'm not going to talk anymore. I just want to say that the style Ohio pottery has a little Christmas present for you. $705,000. Merry Christmas. Newspapers carries a story. It made style famous. I remember saying something about it myself. But the story isn't finished. The style Ohio pottery became the biggest producers of white binderware in the world. Then on December 11, 1947, 15 years to the day when they moved into an old abandoned pottery, there's a style in eight other towns answered. There was a pond nearby. Beyond the water, that pond held under that burning pottery. And then the pond went dry and they had to stop. All they could do then was just stand and play. Anyhow, they, the authors are still standing in the cafeteria. Come on, everybody, let's get some coffee. Blu-ray told me the story. He got up and walked over to a window. It was just twisted girdies, rubbles, and water. The damage was $2 million. Come here, Mr. Thomas. I want to show you something. Can you see that spot out there? That's where the miracle happened. The next morning, they had asked them to come, Mr. Thomas, but they came. They came with shovels, with crowbars, with pickaxes, with wheelbarrows, with just their will and hands. Not here. Men, old men too, and high school boys. Emily, this way. Women, young girls, housewives, the preacher, Mr. Spike of the Bancers. And it was freezing below zero, 18 below. No, whatever you want to be. If they weren't thinking of the cold, they were only thinking of one thing. They came on Friday, more came on Saturday, and still more came on Sunday. From 20 miles away, they came. Okay, jump it. With their hands into their hearts, they carried out the broken, burned-out pottery. And they left it came inside, except for this twisted steel girders and the leather machines. Mr. Thomas, I work with them, and I got tired with them. But maybe my eyes asked them why they were doing it. We're doing this for ourselves, Lou. Maybe this is how we tell you back for 1932. Dio, Ohio. I'm overwhelmed by your tragic loss and what it means to you all. Please let me know if we can help in any way. Our services are yours. Signed, R. H. Miller, faith traffic manager, Pennsylvania Railroad. Our best engineer is Mr. Sperio. Westie House Electric sent motors, hundreds of motors. Where do steel send a crane and a crew to operate it? General Motors sent 70 new Pontiacs. The Pennsylvania routed its freight trains to Sioux. And on top of everything, there were the men and women of Sioux. Hey, how about punching the time clock? Who wants you to punch the time clock? I don't punch any time clock. Tell them we're not doing this for money. And he told me how the people of Sioux froze their fingers in weather that dropped to 20 below. How they worked for 62 days. How they finally agreed to accept a dollar an hour. How they worked 80 hours and live. I only worked 40 hours. You owe me 40 bucks. That's what I said. 40 bucks. He told me all these things and how men and women working in driving snow gathered the acres of steel and cemented that concrete, you know what day this is everybody? It's Friday the 13th of February. Long time ago, we began on the 13th of another February. Now that we're all set to begin operations again, I want to tell you how grateful I am to all of you. All right, Aaron. Start it up back at the old stand. Show me to the depot in Sioux. Goodbye, Mr. Thomas. And thanks for stopping by. Lou, if someone were to ask you what does it all add up to? Well, what would you say? Well, I wouldn't know what to say, Mr. Thomas. And I, well, but I'm sure of just one thing. I've got the kind of riches money can't buy. As I left style, I came away with a cheering and hopeful feeling. Here was a good example. At Lou Reese's plant, management and labor recognized the power of mutual incentive. Together, they built up a small competitive business. Their survival in the face of disaster depended not only on themselves, but on the consumer and the public trust. They had earned success and their united hard work paid off. Kyle, Ohio and Lou Reese. Yes, the story of America that's good to know and good to tell and remember. Each cavalcade will bring you the brilliant actor Charles Lawson in the incomparable document. A tender and humorous story about the great Benjamin Sainz. We invite you to be with us next week with our star, Charles Lawson. The cavalcade is directed by John Zoller, music composed by Arden Cornwell, and conducted by Donald Boyle. Tonight's cavalcade play was written by Dean Lockhart. Dean Lockhart is currently starring in the Broadway success, Death of a Salesman. The cavalcade of America comes to you from the stage of the Balasco Theater in New York and is presented by the Department Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Nature's the better things for better living through tennis. The men and women of the Department Company and cavalcade wish you a happy new year. Stay tuned for Baby Snooks in NBC.