Page 69 - MY STORY

In the meanwhile, Jim apparently had a formal dinner

date with his wife and friends, because he had changed
clothes into a freshly pressed suit and tie. Problem was
that he could not give up supporting his shop people and

was out there with the noises, heat and flying grease at the
drop hammers. On top of that, it was turning into evening
and his shop was required, by ordinance, to stop using the

very loud drop hammers by 10:00 PM. Jim was not a
happy camper.

In desperation, I told Jim that we had a forging expert,
Phil B, manager of our main plant in Toronto, Ohio and I

would seek his advice. Phil did not have any brilliant
ideas beyond what I had recommended. Rourke insisted
that it would be best for all of us if Phil B got on an
airplane and get his butt to Jim’s shop on a “red-eye”

flight out of Pittsburgh. Phil grabbed a flight.

As I stood to go home for the evening, Jim stood up,
sauntered to the door of his office with his large imposing
and angry body, making it clear that I was not going to go

anywhere that evening, or ever, until our TIMET expert
arrived at his shop.