[Congressional Record Volume 142, Number 6 (Wednesday, January 10, 1996)]
[Senate]
[Pages S127-S129]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                               TWO HEROES

  Mr. DORGAN. Mr. President, I would like to just briefly, today, talk 
about two Americans I wanted to bring to the attention of my 
colleagues, two heroes of mine.
  I never met them. I talked to one fellow on the phone the other day. 
A fellow named Robert Naegele and his wife Ellis. He started a company 
called Rollerblade, which some may know about, the largest in-line 
skate company in America. It was a story I read in the Minneapolis Star 
Tribune, when I traveled through Minneapolis the other day by plane. 

[[Page S128]]

  Robert Naegele sold his company 2 months ago. He apparently made an 
enormous amount of money, ran the company, started it from scratch, 
brought it to a $250 million company and then sold it a couple months 
ago. Then, about a week before Christmas, 280 employees of this company 
began to get letters in the mail from Mr. Naegele and his wife. It 
turns out he decided to give the people who worked for that company, 
the people in the factories, the people who made the skates that made 
him a very wealthy man, a Christmas bonus equal to $160 a month for 
every month these folks had worked for the company.
  For some of them in the factory who had been there all the time he 
was there it meant up to $20,000, a $20,000 check. Do you know what he 
had done? He and his wife had prepaid the income taxes, so when these 
folks opened up this check, totally unexpected, from someone who no 
longer owned the company, they got a check that was tax free.
  What this man was saying to them was ``you mattered.'' You people who 
worked in the plant and factories and helped make these products, you 
are the ones who made me successful. You made me some money and I want 
to share it with you. What a remarkable story. What a hero.
  This guy is out of step with the CEO's in our country who now say the 
way to the future is to downsize and lay off and decide to cut the 
ground out from under the feet of people who work for a company for 20 
years. This fellow says to a factory worker, who the article 
describes--as their families are weeping with joy about this unexpected 
benevolence they received in the mail--he says, you matter to me. You 
made a difference. You made this company successful and I want to share 
it with you.
  What a remarkable man. It seems to me if more CEO's in this country 
would understand what Mr. Naegele understands, this country would be a 
better place. Our companies could be better able to compete. You would 
have more loyalty, more job security for people who have spent 10 and 
20 years investing their time in companies.
  I read this one day. The next day I read another piece.
  It was about a fellow whose company, on December 11, began to burn 
down--it was in a small town in Massachusetts--a man named Aaron 
Feuerstein. He was about to go to his 70th birthday party, a surprise 
party that was being thrown for him. He learned a boiler had exploded 
at his mill, textile plant, setting off a fire. It injured 27 people 
and destroyed three of the factory's century-old buildings. That 
employs 2,400 people in an economically depressed area.
  The people who watched that mill burn felt that they were losing 
their jobs, and losing their future.

       When Feuerstein arrived to assess the damage to a business 
     his grandfather had started 90 years ago, he kept himself 
     from crying by thinking back to the passage from King Lear in 
     which Lear promises not to weep even though his heart would 
     ``break into a hundred thousand flaws.'' ``I was telling 
     myself I have to be creative. . . .''

  And 3 days later:

       On the night of Dec. 14, more than 1,000 employees gathered 
     in the gym of Central Catholic High School to learn the fate 
     of their jobs and of the cities of Methuen and Lawrence. 
     Feuerstein entered the gym from the back, and as he shook the 
     now off his coat, the murmurs turned to cheers. The factory 
     owner, who had already given out $275 Christmas bonuses and 
     pledged to rebuild, walked to the podium. ``I will get right 
     to my announcement,'' he said. ``For the next 30 days--and it 
     might be more--all our employees will be paid their full 
     salaries. But over and above the money, the most important 
     thing Malden Mills can do for our workers is to get you back 
     to work. By Jan. 2, we will restart operations, and within 90 
     days we will be fully operational.''
       True to his word, Feuerstein has continued to pay his 
     employees in full, at a cost of some $1.5 million a week and 
     at an average of $12.50 an hour--already one of the highest 
     textile wages in the world. And even better than his word, 
     Malden Mills was up and running last week at 80% of its 
     Polartec capacity, thanks to round-the-clock salvage work and 
     the purchase of 15 new machines. ``I haven't really done 
     anything,'' says Feuerstein. ``I don't deserve credit. 
     Corporate America has made it so that when you behave the way 
     I did, it's abnormal.''

  I just want to finally mention that these two men, Robert Naegele, 
and Aaron Feuerstein, I think are heroes. I think both recognize what a 
lot of this country have forgotten. A company is its workers. Yes. It 
is its investors, it is its innovators, it is its scientists, and it is 
also its workers. Workers matter, and these heroes have done what more 
American business leaders should do. Too many American businesses now 
say to those workers, ``You are like a wrench. We use it, and we get 
rid of you when it is over.''
  What these people are saying is the workers are their business. They 
determine whether that business is successful. And both of them have 
said we commit ourselves to you workers. And I say to them that they 
are American heroes to me, and I wish there were more like them in this 
country.
  Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to have these two articles 
printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the articles were ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                  [From the Minneapolis Star Tribune]

    It Was a Surprisingly Green Christmas for Rollerblade Employees

                            (By Dee DePass)

       Two weeks ago Rollerblade employee Ann Reader, six months 
     pregnant with her third child, called her husband, Tim, from 
     work sobbing. He immediately thought the worst, she said.
       But it was good news for Reader and all of Rollerblade's 
     280 employees. Former Roller- blade co-owner Robert Naegele 
     and his wife, Ellis, played Santa over the holidays, giving 
     each of Rollerblade's employees thousands of dollars in tax-
     free money, figured at about $160 for each month of service 
     with the company. Sources familiar with the giveaway 
     estimated the combined gifts to be $1.5 million.
       Reader, team programs manager, has worked there for more 
     than six years--making her check worth more than $11,000. 
     None of the employees contacted would confirm the amount of 
     their checks.
       ``It made me cry,'' said Reader in a shaky voice. ``I think 
     it was so generous of them. It was an amazing gesture.''
       Rollerblade spokesperson Deborah Autrey said, ``It was a 
     complete surprise that came out of the blue. People were 
     laughing and crying and hugging. I have never seen people in 
     such a stupor.''
       Autrey has worked at Rollerblade for four years. More than 
     half of the employees are warehouse workers with most 
     receiving hourly wages.
       Naegele, who was chairman during the phenomenal growth of 
     the 15-year-old firm, could not be reached for comment. Two 
     months ago he sold his 50 percent share of Rollerblade to 
     Nordica Inc. of Italy for an undisclosed amount. He bought 50 
     percent of the in-line skate company in 1985, when sales were 
     only $500,000. Sales in 1994 were $265 million.
       In Christmas cards to employees, Naegele wrote that he had 
     reaped great rewards from his Rollerblade investment because 
     of the employees' hard work and that he wanted to show 
     his thanks, Autrey said. Enclosed in the cards were the 
     gift checks, on which the Naegeles paid federal taxes.
       ``That way the employees did not get hit with a double 
     whammy. It is a tax-free gift,'' said Autrey.
       The checks were mailed to employees' homes the week before 
     Christmas. The first arrived on Dec. 21 to an employee who 
     was home on maternity leave. From there word spread among the 
     workers, and later that day it was confirmed by the company's 
     chief executive, John Hetterick, who had only found out the 
     day before.
       When the good news reached Matt Majka, 33, the director of 
     product marketing, he immediately phoned his wife, Kym, and 
     asked her to open the mail. When she did, Majka heard sobs. 
     He has been with the company for 11 years, making his check 
     worth an estimated $21,120.
       ``It was very moving,'' he said.
       ``It was very heartfelt for us. We were extremely shocked 
     and extremely grateful for his generosity. . . . All the 
     words he talked about for so many years--about teamwork and 
     that we are a family--he put his words into action.''
       Majka and his wife have a 4-month-old baby and a 2-year-old 
     son, and the Naegeles' gift went to start a college fund for 
     them, he said. The couple also had a new IBM computer under 
     the Christmas tree.
       Reader said she bought bikes for her two children (and a 
     bike baby carrier for the newest family member) and she plans 
     to put some of the money away in savings.
       Majka marveled at what the gift meant to scores of his co-
     workers. ``There are some people who have worked in our 
     warehouse and have been here for a long time,'' he said. 
     ``For some people, they have received a very substantial 
     check, maybe half their year's salary. It's pretty amazing.'' 
     At least two employees have been there for all of the 
     company's 15 years.
       ``I happened to talk to Bob [Naegele] later that night,'' 
     Majka said. ``I told him, `You can't imagine the impact you 
     have had on everyone.' He bellowed and said; `That is just 
     what I wanted to hear.' He said, `This is not mine. It is a 
     gift I had to share.' ''
     
[[Page S129]]


                  [[From Time Magazine, Jan. 8, 1996]

                          The Glow From a Fire

                            (By Steve Wulf)

       Methuen, Massachusetts, is a small city not unlike the 
     Bedford Falls of It's a Wonderful Life. Over the years, the 
     working-class town on the border of New Hampshire and 
     Massachusetts has come to rely on the good heart of one man. 
     While Aaron Feuerstein may not look much like Jimmy Stewart, 
     he is the protagonist of a Christmas story every bit as 
     warming as the Frank Capra movie--or the Polartec fabric made 
     at his Malden Mills.
       On the night of Dec. 11, just as Feuerstein was being 
     thrown a surprise 70th birthday party, a boiler at Malden 
     Mills exploded, setting off a fire that injured 27 people and 
     destroyed three of the factory's century-old buildings. 
     Because Malden Mills employs 2,400 people in an economically 
     depressed area, the news was as devastating as the fire. 
     According to Paul Coorey, the president of Local 311 of the 
     Union of Needletrades. Industrial and Textile Employees. ``I 
     was standing there seeing the mill burn with my son, who also 
     works there, and he looked at me and said, `Dad, we just lost 
     our jobs.' Years of our lives seemed gone.''
       When Feuerstein arrived to assess the damage to a business 
     his grandfather had started 90 years ago, he kept himself 
     from crying by thinking back to the passage from King Lear in 
     which Lear promises not to weep even though his heart 
     would ``break into a hundred thousand flaws.'' I was 
     telling myself I have to be creative,'' Feuerstein later 
     told the New York Times. ``Maybe there's some way to get 
     out of it.'' Feuerstein, who reads from both his beloved 
     Shakespeare and the Talmud almost every night, has never 
     been one to run away. When many other textile 
     manufacturers in New England fled to the South and to 
     foreign countries, Malden Mills stayed put. When a 
     reliance on fake fur bankrupted the company for a brief 
     period in the early '80s, Feuerstein sought out 
     alternatives.
       What brought Malden Mills out of bankruptcy was its 
     research-and-development team, which came up with a 
     revolutionary fabric that was extremely warm, extremely 
     light, quick to dry and easy to dye. Polartec is also 
     ecologically correct because it is made from recycled plastic 
     bottles. Clothing made with Polartec or a fraternal brand 
     name, Synchilla, is sold by such major outdoors clothiers as 
     L.L. Bean, Patagonia, Eastern Mountain Sports and Eddie 
     Bauer, and it accounts for half of Malden's $400 million-plus 
     in 1995 sales.
       Even though the stock of a rival textile manufacturer in 
     Tennessee, the Dyersburg Corp., rose sharply the day after 
     the fire, L.L. Bean and many of Malden's other customers 
     pledged their support. Another apparel company, Dakotah, sent 
     Feuerstein a $30,000 check. The Bank of Boston sent $50,000, 
     the union $100,000, the Chamber of Commerce in the 
     surrounding Merrimack Valley $150,000. ``The money is not for 
     Malden Mills,'' says Feuerstein, ``It is for the Malden Mills 
     employees. It makes me feel wonderful. I have hundreds of 
     letters at home from ordinary people, beautiful letters with 
     dollar bills, $10 bills.''
       The money was nothing to the workers compared to what 
     Feuerstein gave them three days later. On the night of Dec. 
     14, more than 1,000 employees gathered in the gym of Central 
     Catholic High School to learn the fate of their jobs and of 
     the cities of Methuen and Lawrence. Feuerstein entered the 
     gym from the back, and as he shook the snow off his coat, the 
     murmurs turned to cheers. The factory owner, who had already 
     given out $275 Christmas bonuses and pledged to rebuild, 
     walked to the podium. ``I will get right to my 
     announcement,'' he said. ``For the next 30 days--and it might 
     be more--all our employees will be paid their full salaries. 
     But over and above the money, the most important thing Malden 
     Mills can do for our workers is to get you back to work. By 
     Jan. 2, we will restart operations, and within 90 days we 
     will be fully operational.'' What followed, after a moment of 
     awe, was a scene of hugging and cheering that would have 
     trumped the cinematic celebration for Wonderful Life's George 
     Bailey.
       True to his word, Feuerstein has continued to pay his 
     employees in full, at a cost of some $1.5 million a week and 
     at an average of $12.50 an hour--already one of the highest 
     textile wages in the world. And even better than his word, 
     Malden Mills was up and running last week at 80% of its 
     Polartec capacity, thanks to round-the-clock salvage work and 
     the purchase of 15 new machines. ``I haven't really done 
     anything,'' says Feuerstein. ``I don't deserve credit. 
     Corporate America has made it so that when you behave the way 
     I did, it's abnormal.''
       Union chief Coorey begs to differ. Says he: ``Thank God we 
     got Aaron.''

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