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Today, CEOs seem greedy and grasping, but Studebaker's Sherwood Egbert was a top exec to be admired
Once upon a time, there were CEOs in America who actually cared about their company's stockholders, workers and communities they served. It was not that long ago.
In the early 1960s, a man named Sherwood Egbert was hired by the Studebaker-Packard Corporation to save America's fifth-largest car producer. He was a 6 foot, 4 inch former Marine and president of the McCulloch Chainsaw Corporation. As it is said: "Once a Marine, always a Marine," and Egbert was no exception. He brought his leadership, integrity and focus-on-the-mission tasks to his new position.
Studebaker produced a quality and creative product. But the company suffered as a business, primarily from what some considered "incompetent management." As a producer of horse-drawn wagons back in 1852, the company had fallen from a proud and noble history. Egbert hoped to turn this fate around in a very short period of time.
When I was a high school senior, I wrote him a letter, mentioning my admiration over his determination to save the company. I expressed my hope to work for him in the future. Much to my surprise, Egbert not only wrote back, but also invited me to be his guest in South Bend, Ind., "for a first-hand feel on how the car manufacturing business works."
I remember my first impression of the plant and operations. My face must have worn the shock of Clark Griswold, when he first set eyes on Wally World. The entire operation was just a few city blocks. Buildings were old brick structures from the 19th century. The floors were made of wooden planks. I could imagine the wagons and carriages that were crafted there many decades ago.
Egbert was a very impressive individual. At 210 pounds, one could see that he was a "hands on" manager, and didn't take a lot of flack from anybody. He personally inspected all operations and made corrections on the spot. Somehow, one knew that his efforts were not for personal gain, but for the benefit of everyone.
The CEO had made changes everywhere, even painting tired old buildings to improving employee morale. Workers had mixed reactions to him. Some simply expected to turn a wrench on the assembly line and receive a union raise every year. Others knew the company was in dire straits. But all seemed to know that their future was in Egbert's hands.
"Mr. Egbert," as he insisted everyone call him, did his best to create an exciting product. His most astonishing feat was a brand new car called the Avanti. It was very advanced in styling and features for its day. Egbert was hailed as a genius for producing this vehicle in only a year's time. It had never been done before in the industry, as the average time from paper to production was at least three years.
Despite Sherwood Egbert's gallant efforts, he simply ran out of time. Sales continued to slide when production problems, as well as competition from the "big three," became overwhelming. The impressive leader's drive to save the car manufacturing division ended in November 1963, when operations shut down in South Bend. Thousands lost their jobs.
Ironically, this pleased the board of directors in New York, as the company had been switching to more profitable enterprises outside of the automobile-manufacturing arena. Egbert was diagnosed with cancer in late 1962 and died at the young age of 49.
Many say his death was the result of exhaustion from his notable efforts to save a once proud company and its workforce. Perhaps America did not take its first wrong turn with the present housing crisis. Perhaps it happened years ago, when it stopped producing CEOs like Sherwood H. Egbert.
Steve Hansen is a Lodi writer.

Reader Feedback
Cogito wrote on Oct 14, 2008 7:55 PM:
dyan wrote on Oct 14, 2008 9:45 AM:
wtf wrote on Oct 14, 2008 9:34 AM:
When he retired, they were able to get two "college educated" youngsters to take his place.
Hopefully, America will make the right turn back to bringing manufacturing **back** to our country and once again have a situation where a person, by virtue of hard work, can work their way into a position of responsibility.
Today, everyone is supposed to have a college degree. I worked in the Deans' Office at UOP and trust me, I will avoid doctors and lawyers if at all possible because, a lot of times, a degree is only indicative of your parents' ability to pay tuition and the fact someone can stick out four years of guzzling beer in the frat house....just look at our current president. "
wtf wrote on Oct 14, 2008 9:31 AM:
My Dad was like your Mr. Egbert. My served in WWII in the Navy; once out he became a blueprint runner for an Engineering firm.
Through the years, he worked his way up, taking night classes and just learning the business of Electrical Engineering.
Couldn't have been too bad...he worked for Martin Marietta on the Titan IV rocket for NASA; later he worked on contracts for the Kennicott and Anaconda Copper mines.
Never thought a mine lit up at night would be beautiful; but a pic of my Dad's work proved me wrong.
He was an old-fashioned engineer who had two sets of clothes. His suits for when he designed the schematics and his work clothes, boots and hard hat for when he went out in the field.
Nowadays, these are **two** separate jobs and are **specialized** "
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