Marquard drove away toward home. On the way, he found himself humming along with the car radio.
CHAPTER THREE
By 1972, little more had happened in Congress. There were still arguments being made for protective equipment for tractors, but the product safety concerns had given way to other political concerns... for the time being.
Marquard and the others kept close watch on the goings on in Congress. Industry lobbyists were the watchdogs for the manufacturers, using news clipping services and all their contacts to watch for any activity. LBJ's 1968 proposed occupational health and safety law had been defeated. Such an act was inevitable and President Nixon signed the Occupational Health and Safety Act of 1970 on December 29, 1970. The Act took effect on April 28, 1971. But the Act, itself, did nothing to impose requirements or standards but left that to regulations, rules and standards to be developed by the Secretary of Labor and the Occupational Health and Safety Commission created by the Act. It would not impose requirements on manufacturers but only on employers for whom the industry could make something optional if and when any requirement came along. And it only applied to employers and employees, not self-employed farmers. That would all take time and there were a lot bigger fish to fry than issues about farm tractors.
In his office, Marquard assessed the situation. He was comfortable. The Lawtons were happy, which is what made him comfortable. Cherokee was doing well. Tractor sales were good. The company was very competitive. Its share of the market was substantial.
Marquard's position was secure. As he stood looking out his office window, a soft rain began to fall. A brightly colored rainbow appeared over the river valley.
But Robert England was not happy. In his tiny cubicle in the Research & Development Building, he looked at the file he kept on his efforts to revise and improve the instruction and warning language of the operator's manual.
For over four years, he had tried, following the suggestions of Phil Marquard and the other company objectives. His comments to Roger Winthrop had proved accurate. The results were worse than dealing with government bureaucrats, he thought. At first, he had been pleased with the response. The marketing and graphics people seemed to appreciate the importance of his requested changes and additions. But, as time went on, there seemed to be so many other priorities.
None of his requests for safety instructions or warnings for the manual had been used. Either his suggestions were too late, or there was a complete revision of the manual being done and it wasn't the right time if they wanted to finish it at all. He couldn't even find the right person to talk to about a permanent warning label on the tractor itself.
He had probably had a few too many conversations with his wife Mary on the subject, but she was understanding and willing to listen. She also understood and was patient with his frustration. No wonder. She had had her share of experience with farm injuries.
England and his wife both grew up in farm families in central Iowa. Mary's father and one of her brothers had been hurt in farm accidents. Her dad lost an arm. Her brother was killed. Both were tractor accidents involving the power takeoff or PTO. Mary was quite happy that her husband's agricultural interest kept him at a drawing board and in an office.
England was grateful for his wife's support. Of course he hadn't done anything really, yet.
A friendly face peaked into England's office. It was Roger Winthrop. "Time to blow this pop stand, Bob."
"That's for sure," answered England. "I'll be along in a minute, Roger. I've got a few more things to clean up before I leave."
"Okay, Bob. I'd offer to help, but I've got to go before it rains. Clouds moving in. My motorcycle doesn't have a roof. See you tomorrow." The face disappeared.
During the late fifties and early sixties, these tractor safety issues sometimes came up at the Architectural Engineer's Association meetings. In 1967, the ASAE published standards for ROPS, an effort in which England had been involved, although quietly. Some manufacturers were going along and offered ROPS as optional equipment. Many of the engineers felt as he did. Some were defensive against the suggestion that equipment they had designed was unsafe. Still others didn't seem to care. The general consensus was that eventually, federal regulations would take care of things, requiring such protective equipment as guards on PTO's and rollover protection bars and seat belts.
Now that the seventies are here, he thought, everyone says to expect much more in the way of industry regulation, not only on the employers but possibly on the manufacturers as well. On employers they would relate to what types of safety protection will be required on equipment being operated by employees. The Occupational Safety and Health Act, they called OSHA was here and regulations would be coming. While President Johnson's effort at OSHA failed in 1968, President Richard Nixon signed one into law in December, 1970. Regulations would eventually and hopefully follow which would eventually and hopefully include ROPS for farm tractors. Also, States were more tightly controlling the equipment state employees used. Many tractors were used by state employees in roadside maintenance and other jobs. It was still, however, only employees and did not help the self-employed farmer or the weekend hobby farmer who owned an old unprotected tractor.
Things were happening even now. John Deere had a ROPS. More changes would come in time. But that wouldn’t solve the whole problem. England knew that unless something was done about the existing tractors, those already in service, it would be only half a job toward protecting farmers. So he decided to act.
After everyone left for the day, England went to the file room where he made a large stack of photocopies from R & D files, packed them in his briefcase and left.
He left the building a little after six o'clock. He carried the heavy briefcase as he hurried across the parking lot. At his car, he fumbled with his keys, trying to hold his briefcase and an umbrella to protect himself and the briefcase from the gently falling rain. Except for England's manner, the scene of the nearly vacant parking lot and soft rain at dusk was a peaceful one.
England stopped under the canopy at the gate house and cranked down his window. Mike, the guard nodded to England and made a comment about the weather. As the guard raised the barrier, England smiled nervously, acknowledged that they sure needed the rain and drove off in a hurry.
England didn't think he had done anything wrong. But as he drove south toward his home in Middlebury, he did feel a little guilty, or something, he wasn't sure. He had stayed late and had copied a number of R & D's files on the design and testing of the Cherokee T-350 tractor. He felt something didn't make sense. He wanted to check it out. He still felt guilty, though, because if Ellington or Marquard found out, or, God help him, the Lawtons, there would be a lot of questions to answer.
As it grew darker he switched on his headlights. The rain had almost stopped. Occasionally he rotated the windshield wiper knob on the three year old Chevy to "Low" and back to "Off" to send the wipers for one round trip across the windshield to remove accumulated raindrops.
Thirty minutes from the guard at the gate house, England turned into his driveway. The house was like all the others in the tract development twenty miles south of St. Louis on Route 26. They were single story, ranch style homes with shingled roofs and clapboard siding. The houses were set well back from curving streets on nicely landscaped and well maintained yards.
Upon entering the house with the large briefcase, he was greeted by his wife, Mary.
"Hello, Dear!" she smiled reaching for his briefcase. "Here, let me help you." The house felt comfortable and safe, thought England. Safe? Why would he worry about that? He thought he was making too much out of his clandestine photocopy operation. He smiled at the thought.
The house was warm and dry. The most wonderful odors were emanating from the kitchen. And here was Mary wanting nothing more than to make him feel even more safe and comfortable.
"What smells so good? he asked.
"Pot roast, and ready to serve," she responded. "Lord, what have yo
u got in here?" She bent to place the briefcase on the floor at the door of the study acting as though it were full of lead.
"I made some copies to look at tonight, but after dinner."
They ate at the large kitchen table and talked about the weather, their house and their two kids, both of whom had other plans and had not stayed home for dinner. England forgot about the T-350 for the moment.
After dinner he sat at the desk in his study and opened the briefcase. Mary was in the kitchen doing the dishes. He could hear the clattering of dishes and silverware striking each other, the occasional metallic sound of a pot, and the intermittent running of water. He also heard the soothing sound of Mary's humming as she went about her work.
He began at the beginning. As he went through the photocopies he had made, he began to be concerned. He was, in fact, shocked, not at what he found, but at what he didn’t find.
CHAPTER FOUR
England doodled on a pad on his desk. He was frustrated and worried. The files he had copied and studied at home a few nights before were disturbing. What they showed England was an absence of information he knew existed.
Where has that information gone? he asked himself that question as he drew abstract figures on the pad before him. There were test results that he was sure were missing. Why?
He began working a little later than usual about once a week. He did not want to attract attention. He knew he would not attract attention by staying after hours that infrequently. Over his career with Cherokee Tractor & Implement Company, England had never been one to punch the clock at exactly 5:00 o'clock.
On these occasions, after everyone was gone, he painstakingly went through the company's files regarding the design of the T-350. He went through files he had previously photocopied to see if he had missed anything. It was a slow process. England couldn't do too much during the day. When he stayed late, he dared not stay too long. Carefully done, the gate house guards just thought he was a conscientious employee. In fact, he thought, that's exactly what he was, although management wouldn't agree. From his previous experience with top management's reaction to his opinions on safety design, he knew if his activities and purpose were discovered, his job might be in jeopardy.
After several months, he had found nothing. One morning, he decided to take a little more risk. He went to see Vicki Paulson, the Research & Development Records Librarian. He had previously avoided her for fear of exposing his search. He figured he had only to slightly mask his purpose to appear legitimate.
"Good morning, Vicki," England said as he approached her desk in the front of the main file room.
"Hi, Bob," Vicki Paulson answered.
The sign on her desk identified her as "Mrs. Victoria Paulson." She was a large matronly appearing woman with short steel gray hair. She wore half-glasses for reading which were attached to a chain around her neck. Her dark long skirted suit and practical thick heeled black leather shoes completed the librarian image, thought England. In the company, she was liked and respected.
Victoria Paulson had been with Cherokee for over fifteen years. She had worked for several different executives in the company before coming to Research & Development. At R & D her record keeping and filing skills had developed. The position of Records Librarian had been exclusively hers for ten years.
"What can I do for you, this morning?" She peered over her reading glasses at England.
"I want to find the specs on a test we did a number of years ago. The American Society of Agricultural Engineers is working on the ASAE and ANSI standards for testing for the industry for next year."
"What test?" she asked.
"It was a pulling test on the T-350 tractor, over ten years ago, I think," said England.
"All the old stuff on the T-350 should be over in Section Five." She pointed over her left shoulder.
Behind Vicki Paulson's desk were about twenty olive green four drawer file cabinets. Behind them were stacks of open shelves filled with manila file folders. Section Five was part of the open shelving.
"Here, I'll show you," She said as she stood up removing her glasses and letting them hang on the chain in front of her.
They walked back among the shelves, Vicki Paulson leading the way. England felt like a spy. He knew precisely where the files were. He had spent months going through them a little at a time.
"Here we are," she said. She pointed to several shelves laden with manila file folders.
"Thanks, Vicki," said England. "I'll use the table in the back and see if I can find it."
"Okay, Bob. I'll be up front if you need anything." She walked back toward her desk.
England removed several file folders from the shelf. He put them on the table in back and sat down. He had already looked at these folders, but he did not want Vicki Paulson to know. So, he began opening folders and turning pages.
He did have a certain test in mind. He knew where he thought it should be in the files. After forty-five minutes, he opened a file folder to the area where the test report should be. He left the folder open on the table and went to get Vicki. Here goes nothing, he thought.
"Vicki?"
"Yes, Bob?" She turned in her seat to look at him.
"Maybe you can help me," he said. "I'm not finding what I want."
They walked back to the table.
"Here's where I think the test report should be." He pointed to the open file.
Vicki Paulson sat down, put on her reading glasses, and studied the folder, turning pages, then turning them back.
"Tell me more about the test," she said.
"It was a pulling strength test," he answered. "The report would show a diagram of the test set up and give the weights and forces used for the test as well as the T-350's performance."
"When was it done?"
"There should have been several around 1958 or 1959."
She looked deep in thought, chewing on the bow of her glasses.
"Let me try something." She went up front by her desk and began looking in one of the filing cabinets. After a minute, she said, "This is going to take a little time, Bob. Can you leave that file on the table and let me do some digging? I'll call you later."
"Okay," England said, "I'll be at my desk."
"Good. Let me see what I can do after lunch." She smiled and turned back to the open file drawer.
England walked back to his cubicle. He worried that maybe he had taken too big a risk. He wanted his search to be confidential, but Vicki Paulson had no way of knowing that. He hoped no one asked her what she was doing.
Just before 5:00 o'clock the intercom on England's telephone buzzed.
"Bob England," he spoke into the receiver.
"Bob, this is Vicki Paulson. I got tied up with a project for Dick Ellington and didn't get a chance to finish looking for your test report. Okay if I start again in the morning?"
"Of course. Thanks," said England.
"I hadn't found anything yet when Dick interrupted. Sorry," she said.
"That's okay, I appreciate your help," said England, wondering what Dick Ellington may have seen or what Vicki may have said to him.
"I'll try again tomorrow and call you. Bye-bye." She hung up.
On the way home, England decided if someone asked about his search in the old files, he would either stick with his ASAE/ANSI Standards story or tell the truth, whichever felt right at the time. After all, if he proved that records were missing, he wasn't going to keep quiet about it anyway.
"Relax, Bob," Mary told him at home that night.
Bob England sat in an upholstered armchair in his living room. He lit a cigarette and looked at his wife seated across the room by the Christmas tree. She sipped her coffee and puffed on a cigarette, blowing smoke to one side.
"You're right," he said. "I'm just nervous about sneaking around, that's all."
Mary stood up, brightly colored decorations reflecting the multicolored bubbling Christmas lights on the tree behind her. "I think your story about your engineers' grou
p working on test standards is perfectly believable." She smiled at him. "You don't have to worry about sneaking around. You're good at it."
He looked at her in response to the off-handed compliment. Her eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Besides," she said, "the New Year will be here in a couple of weeks. Dad always said a new year changes things. It's a 'starting over.' You can do things you couldn't do before. Just tell yourself you'll work it out in 1973."
England felt better. Mary had a way of easing tension in almost any situation. He was grateful for her help and understanding.
The next day, Vicki Paulson called. "I'm sorry, Bob, I can't find your test report in any of the permanent files where it should be. Are you sure it was on the T-350?"
"Yes. Why do you ask that?"
"A while back I had to get out the tests on the T-350 for an active litigation file Dick has for his correspondence with the law firm. They had to produce the tests for the other side in a personal injury lawsuit involving the T-350. I got what was in the same permanent files you looked at. I don't know what else they sent, but the file is in the active files cabinets. Do you want to see it?"
"Sure. Thanks."
"I'm going over that way. I'll drop it off in a few minutes, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks, Vicki."
England studied the file Vicki Paulson left at his desk. It contained correspondence between Ellington and the St. Louis law firm of Hobbs, Vance, Bruckman & Rosen. Copies of thick court documents were held together by large black alligator clips. Recent correspondence showed the transfer of documents from Ellington to the firm that Vicki described, including T-350 test records. A later letter from the firm enclosed the document production in the lawsuit and the cover letter serving the plaintiff's lawyer.
England studied the court documents. The plaintiff's request was broad enough to require all the tests including the ones England thought were missing from the main company files. The documents produced included nothing more than he had seen in his review of the files. They were identified as all the test records the company had.
The Ultimate Resolution Page 4
