THE TRIUMPH OF GEOGRAPHY

I admit that it would be an oversimplification to say Detroit became the center of the American auto industry because in 1863, Henry Ford (above) was born in it's suburb of Dearborn, Michigan. That accident of birth may have been why, out of the thousands of backyard inventors and tinkers it was Henry who in just 30 years went from failure to earning the modern equivalent $188 billion. But the real key to Detroit's success was just good old geography.

See, in 1900, there were 8,000 automobiles in America,built by over 1,000 inventors from Bangor, Maine to San Francisco. But a realistic look at the market showed that if you wanted to be successful at making cars you needed six things – steel, coal, rubber, cheap land for your plant, workers and customers. And it turned out that 1900 Detroit, was the perfect time and place for all those things to come together. Well, not perfect. It was a compromise, but as compromises go, it was perfect.

First, if you want to make steel, you need iron ore, and around the northwestern edge of Lake Superior – in the forests of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Ontario, Canada and the upper peninsula of Michigan – were some of the world's richest outcrops of soft cherty iron oxides. Humans started mining this iron in the 1840's, when the ore was so rich it could go straight into a smelter. 

They started out producing iron right next to the mines, heating the ore over wood fires to over 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit and then scraping off the impurities. But you can't make an automobile out of iron. You need steel.

The forests that surrounded the mines might have supplied enough fuel to turn that iron into steel, but burning one pound of wood only gives you about 7,000 British Thermal Units of heat. However burning a pound of coal produces almost 3 times as many BTUs. The problem was the nearest coal deposits were 1,500 miles and more to the south. 

Ships being the cheapest method to carry bulk cargoes,investors, mostly from Cleveland, Ohio, built fleets to transport ore out of Lake Superior, through Lake Huron to the bottom of Lake Michigan and Lake Erie.  Where in the 1840's they could connect to the Erie Canal and reach New York City.

In 1903, at the age of 39, Henry Ford had his third try at making automobiles - The Ford Motor Company. Henry had little money left to invest, and was installed as Vice President of his own company. The new factory (above)  was in the Milwaukee Junction neighborhood of Detroit, and it was already home to a few other would-be automakers. But the largest industry in town was making heating and cooking stoves. Which they made out of iron.

Ford Motor Company's first car, the Model “A”, was a 2 seat “runabout” with an 8 horse power engine under the driver's seat. It only came in one color – red – and was advertised as “The most reliable machine in the world”, which it was not. Still, Ford sold 1,708 cars in 1903, and was able to offer an improved model, the “AC”, in 1904, with a 10 horse power engine. That year they also introduced the Model “B”, with it's 24 horsepower engine up front. But the “B” cost 3 times what the Model “A” did, and did not sale well.

In 1900 the southernmost port on Lake Michigan was Hammond, Indiana. And about 60 miles due south of Hammond was the Kankakee Arch, the northern rim of the 500 million year old subterranean Illinois Basin. It lies under most of Illinois, half of Indiana, a big chunk of Kentucky and a sliver of Tennessee. Since 1900, the basin has produced well over 8 billion tons of coal.

By 1901, the furnaces of Hammond were importing 2 ½ million tons of iron ore every year. A new port was constructed 30 miles to the east, to serve what became 6 steel mills pouring out smoke from the Illinois border the U.S. Steel's new mammoth plant in Gary Indiana. 

They called it the Calumet Steel District, and it boasted 37 open furnaces, 8 blast furnaces, with endless lines of rolling mills that would employ 200,000 workers, producing, in 1925, some 8 ½ million tons of steel. And since the rail roads were already delivering coal to the Calumet, it was a minor investment to extend those rails to new electrical generating plants in Chicago.

In 1906, Ford introduced the luxury Model “K”, powered by a 6 cylinder, 40 horsepower engine. They sold less than 1,000 Model K's but the profit margin per car was high enough to make the “K” successful. Despite this Henry was more enthusiastic about his 4 cylinder Model “N” (above), which sold over 2,190 cars in 1906. That year, Henry bought out the chief supporter of the Model “K”. Alexander Malcomson. And as the new President of the Ford Motor Company, Henry was now free to discontinue production of the “K”, and pursue his dream to “Democratize the Automobile”.

A little over 200 miles southeast of Detroit, and about 40 miles south east of Cleveland, on the western edge of the Pennsylvania coal fields, is Akron, Ohio.  Dr. Benjamin Franklin Goodrich had moved his rubber manufacturing company (above) to Akron in 1875, because of the cheap land, convenient canals and railroads, and the labor supply.  But mostly because 25 feet under the sandstone foundations of Akron, there was a lot of coal.

See, back in 1860, the British chemist Charles Greville Williams had described the chemical that made rubber act like rubber – latex. And once described in living plants, the same molecules were quickly found in dead plants – like coal. In particular the kind of coal underlying Akron, Ohio. 

The new synthetic latex wasn't as good as natural rubber. It was better, because in cooking up each batch, you could tweak the recipe for whatever product you were making – like fire hoses or rubber gloves (above) or tubing...

...or tires and inner tubes for the 1890's bicycle craze.  And with that was why Akron, thousands of miles from the nearest rubber tree plantation, became the “Rubber Capital of the World”.

The bicycle craze brought new companies to Akron, like Diamond, Universal, and Goodyear, and, in 1900, a buggy wagon salesman named Harvey Firestone. (above)  Harvey decided to specialize in mass producing pneumatic tires for buggy's and wagons. Many a farmer's ass thanked Harvey Firestone for that innovation. 

And, in 1907, when Henry Ford (above, left) went looking for somebody who could supply enough tires and rubber belts and gaskets for his “car for the multitude”, Harvey (above, right)  was the right man in the right business.

In January of 1907, the 44 year old Henry Ford set up a work shop on the third floor of his factory to design his new car. It had to be simple to assemble and cheap to build. Henry wanted it to be light enough, simple enough and rugged enough that the average customer could maintain it by himself. It had to survive the rutted and pockmarked unpaved roads of America. Presented to the world in the fall of 1908, it would be Henry Ford's Model “T”.

That same year Henry bought a factory 4 miles north of Detroit in Highland Park, Michigan, from the Dodge Brothers -  who had been building engines there for Ford -  Henry also acquired 60 adjoining acres of farmland. Here he would build a massive new factory (above), large enough to allow him to experiment in assembling his Model “T”. 

It was here the Industrial Assembly Line would be born, and all but a handful of the 15 million “T” Fords would be built here, gobbling up the steel from the Calumet mills and rubber from Akron..

Owners called her the Tin Lizzie, the Bouncing Betty and the Mechanical Cockroach. The “T” had no fuel pump, so you had to drive uphill in reverse. It had no oil pump. Crankcase oil splashed up onto the cylinders, as well as down onto the ground. To avoid excessive breakage, each linkage of the chassis had a generous amount of “give”, which resulted in a very talkative car .

How do you tell the difference between a rattlesnake and a Model “T”? You can count the rattles on a snake.  Owners did not need a speedometer. At ten miles an hour the hood rattled. At fifteen the radiator rattled. At twenty the top rattled. And at twenty-five miles an hour the transmission fell out. 

It was alleged Henry Ford was training squirrels to run behind each new Model “T” to collect the nuts as they fell off.  

Model “T”s came in only one color – black.  But, went another joke, why did they paint Chevy's Green? So they could hide in the grass and watch all the Fords go by. 

However, one owner insisted he wanted to be buried in his Model “T”, because “its gotten me out of every hole I've ever been in.”

Three hundred and fifty miles almost due south of Henry Ford's new factory, was the college town of Bloomington, Indiana (above) . In 1910 it had less than 10,000 inhabitants, whose primary occupations were farming, quarrying the local limestone, making furniture, and tending to the residents of Indiana University. The town boasted a new courthouse, 5 churches, 2 railroad stations, 2 theaters, and a new library. I.U.'s claim to fame was coach James Sheldon's team which did not give up a single touchdown during their 6 and 1 season. But Bloomington had yet another reason to celebrate the year of 1910.

Near the corner of North Rodgers and West 8^th Street, the United States Census Bureau had calculated was the exact physical balance point of the 92,228,496 American citizens enumerated in the 1910 census. 

In short, half of Henry Ford's potential customers lived east of Bloomington, and half west. And half of his potential customers lived north and half lived south of this imaginary fulcrum - 39 degrees, 17 minutes north latitude and 86 degrees 53 minutes west longitude.

In the decade Henry Ford was building his company that center had shifted west 36 miles from outside of Columbus, Indiana to Bloomington. In the coming decade of the Model “T”, it would shift another 28 miles west northwest to just outside of Spencer Indiana. And by the time they finally ended production of the Model “T” in 1928, the center of the customer pool would have moved another 31 miles west southwest to the little town of Linton, Indiana. Each following decade, the center of the customer base would move a little farther from Detroit and farther from Henry Ford.

Henry supposedly retired in 1918, turning control over to his son, Edsel. But that was just a scam, to remove his opponents from the board of directors.  By the time America became involved in World War Two, Henry's corporation had produced more than 29 million automobiles. But he had suffered a series of strokes in the late 1930's, and Edsel became the true president of Ford Motor Company. 

Then in 1943, Edsel died of a stroke, and Henry took up the reins again. But age and wear  ate away at his attention span. Under his tenure Ford Motor Company lost $10 million a month. As his mind faded, his daughter-in-law sued to take control of his company, and installed Henry's grandson, Edsel Ford II as new president.

Henry Ford died in the waning moments of Monday, 7 April, 1947, at 83 years of age.  His funeral procession (above) passed the headquarters of all the major automakers in Detroit, and their employees stood at the curb, to pay homage to the man who had built their industry. 

Henry Ford was a life long antisemitic, and used his fortune to finance antisemitism worldwide.  He also built the first mosque in the United States, for his Muslim employees.  He did business with Nazi Germany, and Hitler praised Henry in speeches.  At home, Henry paid thugs to brutalize labor union organizers.  He also hired African Americans, and paid them equal to white workers.  He was suspicious of mathematics, and as long as he was in control, Ford Motor Company was never audited. Perhaps Henry's ignorance was understandable, since his mother had died when he was 12 and his father had forced him to leave school at 15 to work on the farm.  He hated his father's farm.  It was why the publicity department at Ford Motor Company usually photographed Henry in his machines. He understood machines.  

In short, Henry Ford was a human being, smart and stupid, kind and cruel, arrogant and humble, sometimes in the same moment. He worked hard every day of his life. He was very rich, but wealth merely magnified his faults and strengths. What made Henry Ford one of the richest human beings on the planet, had surprisingly little to do with Henry. It was really just geography.

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IS ANYBODY THERE?

I think the basic problem with democracy is that humans are too darn clever for it to ever work efficently. Consider the lesser genius of old John Q. Adams (above), son of a founding father, who, after one term in the White House, won a seat in the House of Repesentatives, which he occupied for another 17 years as “Old Man Eloquent”.  Congressman Adams first dragged slavery onto the House floor for open debate, and then engineered the first compromise which delayed the Civil War for forty years -  a pretty clever guy. But it was also J.Q. Adams who was clever enough to insist he should not be counted as “present” if he refused to respond when his vote was called for. It was a matter of principle to John Q, and a matter of temprament. He was just too old to stand up and walk out of the chamber every time someone asked him to vote on something he wanted to avoid voting on. How could he predict that two generations later, in the hands of hack politicians, this principle would be used to thwart democracy?

They called it a “Silent Quorum”. By October of 1893, when the Senate was trying to repeal price supports for silver, which were costing taxpayers millions of dollars every year, this procedure had become a monster whenever the majority was razor thin. Without a quorum present, (half the membership plus one) no vote was legal, so by remaining silent when their names were called, the minority could “fillibuster” any action they wanted to avoid losing on. It was a manuever which one particular House member described as a “...peculiar art of metaphysics which admits of corporeal presence and parliamentary absence”. That year, over two days, the U.S. Senate tried 39 times to remove price supports for silver. And every time the quorum evaporated. A decade later the obstructionists had so honed their craft that the same particular House member calculated that the House of Representatives spent “...a whole month...calling over our own names”. Usually the bills being  fillerbusted were either dropped, or the delay and deal making required to get them passed held the Congress up to public ridicule. Who ever heard of such a thing?

The 'particular' Congressman who finally broke the filibuster of silence was a fourteen year veteran who knew the lower house of Congress well enough to describe it as “A gelatinous existence, the scorn of all vertebrate animals”. He owned the biggest head in politics (in more ways than one) and the sharpest wit in the Washington, at the time. Fifty year old Thomas Brackett Reed (above) was, said a critic, as “ambitious as Lucifer”.  He was also a giant - 6'3” tall and 300 pounds – who inspired one who saw him strolling to say in awe, “How narrow he makes the sidewalk look.” Republican Thomas Reed once lamented in his measured Maine drawl, “We live in a world of sin and sorrow. Otherwise there would be no Democratic Party.”  When accused of mockery by a Democrat, Reed responded, “I will say to the gentleman that if I ever ‘made light’ of his remarks, it is no more than he ever made of them himself.”   Reed described two politicans who annoyed him, this way; “They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge.” He was imperious and dictitorial even with friends - a small “d” democratic Robespierre.

Like all political revolutions, newly-elected Speaker Reed's, was inspired by necessity. Specifically, on 23 January 1890, he received the Committee on Elections report concerning the 4^th district of West Virginia. The Democratic Governor had thrown out the results from two polling places and declared Democrat James Jackson the winner. The loser, Republican Charles Smith, had appealed to congress. The Congressional Committee's Republican majority had labeled the governor's actions so outrageous that it “seems like a farce to argue about it” and recommended giving the seat to Smith. As expected the Democrats wanted to argue about it. Technically Reed had three more than the 166 Republicans needed to push through Smith's election. But if three or more of his own party were out sick or away from the floor Reed's working majority would fall to the “tyranny of the minority”. Thomas Reed was determined to do something about that.

Before the session was to begin that noon, on Wednesday, 29 January, 1890, Speaker Reed called the two ranking Republican members of the election committee into the hallway behind the Speakers podium, known as the Speakers' Lobby. There Reed warned Joe Cannon from Illinois (above) and William McKinley from Ohio that even with two Republicans dragged from their sick beds, what with several others still out sick, one dead and another home with a dying wife, the Democrats could be expected to use a 'Silent Quorum' to delay or even kill action on their report. But Reed had a plan. What he did not tell this allies was that he had recently secured a partnership in a private law firm, in case his plot blew up in his face and he was forced to resign from the Congress. Representative Cannon asked when the Speaker intended upon launching his plan. Reed responded simply, “Now”, and he strode into the chamber.

After the preliminaries for the opening of a session, Edward McPherson, the House clerk, called for a vote on the report of the election committee to name Republican Smith the winner. The initial results were 162 yeas, 3 nays and 163 not voting. The Democrats immediately called for a “quorum call”. Again Mr. McPherson read out the roll call, pausing after each of the 332 names for a response. All 162 Republicans in the chamber answered “present”. Not a single Democrat in the room lifted his voice. The “Silent Quorum” had again triumphed - or so it seemed. But then Speaker Reed announced ponderously, “The Chair directs the Clerk to record the names of the following members as present and refusing to vote.” And slowly he began to read off the names he had marked down as being in the room.

According to the Associated Press reporter who was present, “Pandemonium broke loose...wild excitement, burning indignation, scathing denunciation...” When Reed called his name, the Democratic war horse William Breckinridge bellowed over the mob, “I deny the power of the Speaker and denounce it as revolutionary!” By now Democrats were spilling into the aisle and pressing toward the podium, “...as if they intended to mob the Speaker.” But imperious, “utterly fearless”, and (said the New York Times) as “cool and determined as a highwayman,” Speaker Reed deigned not to acknowledge their outrage. He just kept reading the the names of the no longer silent minority.

When he called out, “Mr. McCreary”, the sexagenarian ex-Governor of Kentucky and ex-Confederate Colonel, James Bennett McCreary (above), shouted up at the podium, “I deny your right, Mr. Speaker, to count me as present!” Unexpectedly, Thomas Reed paused, and the entire bedlam paused as well, sucking in a breath of anticipation. Gazing down impassively from atop the massive podium, the New England Buddha pronounced, “The Chair is making a statement of fact that the gentleman is present. Does he deny it?” Representive McCreay was nonplussed. And calmly Reed continued with his roll call of the principled “absent”. And when he had finished, over the din and angry shouts which again tore the air, he announced he would now give his reasons for the revolution he had just launched.

The Constitution, in Article One, section five, said Reed, dictates that each house of Congress could “...compel the attendance of absent members, in such manner, and under such penalties as each house may provide.”  Speaker Reed argued, “If members can be present and refuse to (be)....counted as a quorum, that provision would seem to be entirely negated. Inasmuch as the Constitution only provides for their attendance, that attendance is enough. If more was needed the Constitution would have provided for more.” His words were not going to sway the losing side, but then that was not to whom Reed was speaking to.  “Are elections a farce and is government by the people a juggle?” he asked. “Do we marshal our tens of millions at the polls for sport? If there be anything in popular government it means that whenever the people have elected one party to take control of the.House or the Senate, that party shall have both the power and the responsibility. If that is not the effect, what is the use of the election?”

Having said his peace, Mr. Reed intoned, “The Chair thereupon rules that there is a quorum present within the meaning of the Constitution.” Breckinridge demanded to make a point of order. Reed dismissed him, saying. “The Chair overrules the point of order”, without even hearing it. “I appeal the decision of the Chair,” shouted the old war horse. Interjected the Republican Lewis Payson from Ilinois' 9^th district, “I move to lay the appeal on the table”. And with a Republican second, the Congress now debated the very idea of Reed's revolution.

It went on for three bitter, angry, frustrated days. And from atop the pyramid of the podium Thomas Reed sat impassive, “serene as a summer morning”, rendering Parlimentary decisions which kept the debate moving.  Speaker Reed used his gavel so often, he broke it (above).  Charles Landis, the Indiana Republican, insisted that Reed “...did not gag debate, he simply....thought that a man who had a private balloon to inflate should hire a field.”  If the Democrats “shouted until the acoustics bled,” wrote Landis, that was merely “prima facie evidence that they were in the vicinity”. In the beginning Republicans were not united, but the Democratic reaction had forced the doubters into the battle line. Even the one Texas Democrat who stayed seated while ominously wetting his bowie knife, helped to unite Reed's Republican troops.

Thomas Reed came out of this debate forever bearing the tag of “Czar Reed”. But he also won his point. On Monday, 3 February 1890, the Democrats admitted defeat and simply walked out of the chamber (above). This left the Republicans with just 165 votes - one short of a quorum. An hour later, Republican Joe Sweeny of Iowa, having raced from the train station, walked into the chamber and announced, “One more, Mr. Speaker”. And with that a quorum was achieved. And the reason for the drama (if anybody still remembered), Charles Smith, was officially elected to the 4^th district House seat for West Virginia, by 166 votes to 0. Twenty-six days later the United States Supreme Court rejected the Democratic appeal, and the matter was settled for at least a generation.

"Reed's Rules" gave the Republicans the power to fully enact their programs. And the public fully rejected them. In the election of 1890 Democrats gained the clear and working majority both sides had wanted, and immediately discarded Reed's Rules.  Reed's observation on this was, “The House has more sense than anyone in it.”  Two years later, the Republicans re-gained ground and it was the Democrats who were facing a intransigent minority, lead by Thomas Reed. The Democrats were forced to now accept and use Reed's Rules for themselves. In response, Thomas Reed said only, “I congratulate the Fifty-third Congress.” And he meant it.

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