FORT WAYNE - Every day on the GM assembly line, workers face a merciless blue light.
The small, round bulb establishes a tempo for the shift, flashing continually when workers complete tasks on time and shining steadily when they don't. Even jobs that appear to be relatively easy become challenging within this mandated time limit.
Holli Murphy transferred to first shift last week to work on right rear shocks at the plant. After eight months of working on second shift in the chassis area, she had to deal with the nervousness that comes with performing a new job on a tight deadline.
"You never have any extra time, but you can get a quality job done in the allowed amount of time," she said.
For one day in mid-August, I had a chance to work for a couple of hours under the same pressure - that blue light - that keeps employees on their toes at General Motors' southwest Allen County truck assembly plant.
The local plant is one of the region's few workplaces that has added hundreds of workers in the past year. But the picture is far from rosy, even for GM. Those additional local jobs were created as the company shuttered some manufacturing plants, putting thousands out of work in other communities.
As we approach Labor Day, about 10 percent of Allen County residents remain unemployed.
While the blue light on GM's assembly line places time demands on workers, it is also a refreshing reminder that the people who face it at least have jobs.
Last summer, workers at the Allen County plant were furloughed for what was supposed to be 11 weeks to allow the company to sell down bloated inventories. But the stash of new cars and trucks disappeared faster than expected, sending local workers back one week earlier than originally planned.
This one factory is part of GM's national network of seven car plants and seven truck plants. In the past two years, the company has taken a federal bailout, filed for bankruptcy, reorganized, emerged from bankruptcy and is now planning to sell stock to the public again.
This one factory also represents the larger manufacturing industry, which has shed thousands of jobs in the last two years but continues to employ thousands in northeast Indiana.
As the U.S. economy teeters on the edge of a double-dip recession, GM seems to be winning the struggle to survive.
Walk the line
GM produces 1,428 trucks - or 476 a shift - at its Allen County plant each week day. Production jumped about 50 percent in May when the company added a third shift as part of a larger strategy that closed older, less efficient plants in Pontiac, Mich., and Oshawa, Ontario.
Chevrolet Silverados and GMC Sierras come in numerous versions, which travel down the production line in seemingly random order. Some are light duty and some heavy duty. Some with regular cabs and some with extended cabs. Some run on diesel, but most run on gasoline. And some - called dualies - have two rear tires on each side.
A computer creates the production schedule, ensuring enough of each model to meet customer demand, according to Michael Armstrong, shift leader in trim, part of the general assembly process.
Various types of trucks - including extended cab and heavy duty - take more people to make, he said. So making all extended cabs on Tuesdays and heavy duties on Fridays, for example, wouldn't work because GM would need different numbers of workers each day of the week, he said.
Computer coordination is crucial to make sure each vehicle gets the right engine, fuel tank, exhaust system, cab and interior.
Each truck takes about 22 hours to make.
Murphy, who transferred last week to shocks, still gets a thrill from each finished product.
"I've been here 11 years, and it's still amazing to see how it works," she said.
Any problem in the production process threatens the plant's ability to meet its quota. To put the output into perspective, over the next 12 months the factory is on pace to make the equivalent of one truck for every man, woman and child in Allen County.
I was amazed by how huge the factory floor is. It's impossible to see from one end to the other because of the jumble of machines, including lots of robots inside metal cages that keep people from getting too close. The robots swing left and right, up and down, welding parts and shipping them on down the line. The machinery makes a constant hum when everything is running.
Automotive parts in this pre-paint area are all shiny silver. But various storage areas are painted blue, red, pink and yellow. The overhead grates are bright orange.
Large truck parts move overhead on a conveyer that takes them to other factory areas for more assembly.
Safety first
Plant supervisors gather to address quality and safety issues every day before the beginning of each shift. It was clear to me from sitting in on a meeting that they don't point fingers or get defensive.
"If you know the system and what you need to do, there's nothing to get defensive about. It's really nothing personal," said Herman Lucas, head of metal finishing and fenders. "You never attack the person, you attack the problem."
Attacking the problem means tracing it back to its source and addressing how it happened.
"Part of it is trying to develop a culture where people think about (quality) all the time," said Lucas, who holds a degree in mechanical engineering from Southern University in Baton Rouge, La.
The supervisors share necessary information, including dented parts found the previous day. Concerns are passed along to line workers within a matter of minutes at smaller, team meetings before front-line workers take their stations for their shift.
Safety begins with the right clothes and equipment.
The recommended attire for production workers includes sturdy, closed-toe shoes; a long-sleeved shirt; and jeans. Rings are discouraged - or must be covered by irritating tape.
New employees must watch a safety video, which outlines potential perils, including getting mowed down by a forklift or motorized cart. I watched the same video before my tour began and heeded its warnings throughout the day.
New employees also must review a seven-page safety brochure, which includes general safety rules, hazardous materials policy and emergency procedures, including what to do during a tornado or fire. The rules prohibit walking or driving a vehicle while talking on a phone or radio.
Workers in the body shop are issued safety glasses, ear plugs, Kevlar sleeves and Kevlar-and-leather gloves.
Kevlar, the material in bulletproof vests, is cut-proof. Everyone in the body shop - even supervisors just walking through - is required to wear Kevlar sleeves at all times. The metal parts workers handle are dangerously sharp.
Once a week, team safety reps walk around their area, looking for anything that might become an issue. They ask co-workers and rely on their own observations to compile a weekly list of safety concerns.
In one case, workers kept taking a shortcut that wasn't considered safe, so the plant hung a metal chain across the opening to discourage people from using it. In another, orange paint designating a dangerous area had faded to the point where it was no longer effective.
As team leader Mike Kennedy said, "No job's worth getting hurt for."
Facing the fenders
Production line tasks are broken down into small, repetitive parts that usually take less than one minute each. This is where my challenge for the day came in.
Men and women work beside robots to place pieces together and weld them into place before sending the parts to the next stop on the line.
Mike Burge, who assembles the inner panel on the left front fender, makes the process look easy.
First, he slides a piece of metal about 2 1/2 feet by 3 1/2 feet off a nearby rack, grabbing it along the left edge with his left hand and bottom with his right.
Burge turns 90 degrees to his left and takes about three steps toward the machinery. He rests the U-shaped metal piece atop a couple of taller, stationary parts. Then, without stepping back, he turns 90 degrees to his right and reaches into two bins, simultaneously pulling one metal bracket from each. He turns back to face the machine and fit holes in the small parts onto the correct metal pins. One of the parts has five holes to choose from. And numerous metal pins protrude from the machinery.
After the parts are securely in place, Burge lifts the fender piece and matches its holes with the proper pins, sliding it forward and down to sit snugly over the first two pieces he placed on the machine.
Then, he spins 90 degrees to the left to pick up two more small metal brackets, one in each hand. He wedges those onto the correct spots.
Burge makes another 90-degree turn to the right for the last of five metal pieces, the only one that requires a choice. One part is used for Chevy trucks. A different one goes on GMCs. The production worker decides which nose piece to grab, depending on whether a blue or a white light is lit up on a pole just above the bins that hold the parts.
After setting the correct metal bracket into place, Burge takes a giant step backward and hits the button that activates a robot to swing around and weld the parts before lifting the finished piece off the holder and sending it on its way down the production line to be paired with the left outer fender and, eventually, a completed right fender, chassis and engine.
"I don't really like doing the same job over and over, but I don't have much of a choice," said Burge, a 32-year GM veteran who has been at this machine two years.
Burge struggled to explain why he hasn't retired from the company. The 55-year-old qualified for retiree benefits two years ago.
"I do get a certain satisfaction in seeing a job completed," he said. "You take pride in your work."
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