Hi all -
Jessica's pictures of Dad's funeral are at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/cmccardell13/ArchieMcCardellSFuneral
- Clay
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Dad's funeral
I've been asked to post here the comments I made at Dad's funeral, that sunny afternoon of July 15.
I've re-read these words many times since that day, and for some reason they always seem to give me the same comfort that they gave when I wrote them, late at night and alone with my thoughts and fears. When I feel my resolve slipping away, when the loss begins to outweigh the gain, they seem to help me focus on the latter rather than the former.
In the hope that they may in some fashion do the same for you, I'll offer them again here.
- Clay
In deference to Archie R. McCardell
Dark thoughts come far too easily, sometimes, during earth-shattering events.
We wonder what we would do if the worst thing we could imagine came to pass, how we would handle it, and whether our actions or reactions would measure up. In our family, we all strove to measure up to my Dad – to be as considerate, to be as thoughtful, to be as fair, and to simply be as good as we all knew him to be.
In my darkest thoughts, I never once imagined who I would be without my father’s steadying presence. I never once imagined my family without my father’s wisdom and comfort, our businesses without his guidance, or his comfort when I failed, and his congratulations when I succeeded. I never once imagined what I would say at my father’s funeral. There’s a reason, though, that my darkest thoughts never ventured here.
Through all the tears, and all the heartache, I realize that if I learned anything at all from my dad, I should know that this time is, at its heart, far from dark. When all is said and done, it’s far too obvious that we’ve been given a great gift. We were given so much time – as wife, as sibling, as child, as grandchild, as extended family - growing up, living together, playing together, working together – to fine tune ourselves and learn what life should mean from a wise man who took it upon himself to share his wisdom with us. We’ve been given a rare opportunity to look back at the past, without rose-colored glasses or deference to the dearly departed or empty, meaningless phrases, to look back honestly and still in wonder at a life well lived, and to savor what Dad will always mean to all of us. “Celebration of life” used not to mean quite so much to me. But that’s indeed where find ourselves today, and we have all been blessed to have known a man whose life, much more so than most, deserves celebration.
But I need to stop here. In our family - and from the unfortunately limited time I spend with our extended family, this is perhaps far from unique – we have a strange tradition. We can never speak anything other than ill of someone present – it’s just not done. And I know, looking at my Dad’s wife, brothers, sister, children, and grandchildren that he is much more here than gone. The life lessons that he imparted to each of us I see in myself, and in you all. He may not be here in body, but he certainly lives on in our hearts, in our thoughts, and in our souls – in who we are as people as we gather here today.
So if we all choose to accept that, then I am constrained by family tradition to briefly offer the following:
He was kind of a bastard. Sometimes, he was even an asshole - just ask my long-suffering mom. Certainly he was never very far removed from his mischievous side. You could look far and wide, and would be hard-pressed to find a more dishonest, unethical man anywhere. A slacker, as well – untrustworthy when push came to shove, inconsiderate, couldn’t hold a job for the life of him. A flighty, uncertain man, unsure of who and what he was and completely forgettable, also – he could pass unnoticed in any crowd. His presence had so little effect on those that he met that I constantly had to remind people that they had, in fact, met my father several times. An ungracious, selfish man who looked out for himself at the expense of others. Even a disloyal man, prone to disappoint, never to be relied on.
For a quick translation, I’ll share with you one of my co-workers’ views; since he’s not family, he doesn’t suffer under the same constraints. He said:
I know everyone who gets to spend time with him benefits from it and I for one did not get enough. This in mind, I cannot imagine your family’s grief and my heart is heavy for you all but envious of the amount of time you all had with such an inspiring human being. I have no words that can explain how much I thought of your dad but I am sure you know how he affected people. The impression he left on me and I am sure everyone he shared a room with is something only a few people in this world possess, the charisma and magnetism was as big as I have ever seen. I do feel lucky to have had the chance to speak one on one with him a few times in my life; I know I am a better person for having had the chance to steal a few minutes of his wisdom and I thank you for that opportunity. I am counting on you to spread some of that around as I know you had the chance to soak up a lifetime of lessons on how to be a good man. My thoughts are with your mom, you and your entire family.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but my dad has always been my main motivation to be the best man he taught me it is possible to be. I would rather have shriveled up and crawled in a hole than know that he was disappointed in me. Certainly none of us is perfect – but dad could always see beyond the imperfections, forgive us and love us without reservation despite them. There may have been some wiggle room, but for me there was a line that should never be crossed, lest I lose the pride in me and respect for me that I always hoped he had.
We all know Dad’s life. We all know that, despite his rise to the top of the international business world, despite the time he spent with presidents and vice presidents and in the corridors of power, he was an intensely private man. He didn’t much need public recognition, and he certainly never sought fame. Whatever he did, and whatever his accomplishments, he did with a sense of decency and a concern for the good of others. Despite – or more probably because of - his wisdom, his intellect, and his sense of self, I always thought of him as a simple man. Important to him, above all else, were honesty, fairness, a consideration of others, and pride in what you do. It didn’t matter who or what you were – a corporate leader, a breakfast waitress, a mechanic, a president, a plumber. If he knew you well enough to know that you had those traits, you had his respect. And somehow, however well people knew him, they always understood that his respect was something to be earned and, once earned, to be kept and nurtured and treasured.
Look around you, here in this remote, special place. I’m sure that the corporate chieftains and powerbrokers of yesteryear - not to mention the current crop of what dad felt to be self-promoting business leaders - would wonder why a man of Dad’s accomplishments would feel most comfortable here. Unless they knew him as we did, of course – unless they understood what this place is. This is a place for pioneers, of strong men and women who made a difference in the land, and in its people. A place for people who never demanded or expected respect, but rather who earned it through hard work and dedication to principle. A place for a man who accomplished much in his long and storied life, read voraciously about current affairs, but when enjoying some well-earned down time, lost himself in Louis L’Amour’s simple tales about men, and women, who represented the essence of what he knew was important in life.
Dad would never have wanted a large, public service. Even in this place, with the never-ending sky and the expanse of high desert all around, there never would have been enough room to hold the people whose lives he touched over the course of his 81 years. He would look around now at his wife, his brothers, his sister, his children and grandchildren and the rest of his family, and he’d be satisfied that he had done all that he could do, more than most are ever capable of, of showing us the way, of leading us down the right path, and showing us how to handle life’s ups and downs with the grace and compassion that too few people on this earth possess.
So the bright sun is out, and despite the tears and the sense of finality, I’m left to wonder what on earth I did to deserve the uninterrupted 45 years that I was lucky enough to learn from my dad – as a child, as a teenager, as a businessman, and as a son. I was given the opportunity that few sons have, to revere him as a father, to grow up and work with him, to learn as I grew older that he wasn’t perfect – but that he was very definitely far more than just “one of us”. He was a gift to us. I find myself wanting more, but that of course is selfish – I can’t think of any possible way that he could have given us more than he did.
Not one of us was unsure of what he meant to us in life, any more than we’re unsure of what he meant to us now that he’s left us. Not one of us was ever unappreciative of the time we always felt privileged to spend with him. We have always known and completely understood how integral a part of our lives he was, just as we have always known how important we were to him. The true gift that he gave to all of us, and that I will treasure until I join him, is that we always knew this great man loved us. There is nothing left unsaid.
This day – this week – gives us the necessity of focusing on the minute details of our time together, of putting our lives with him in clear focus, and of redefining ourselves. In doing so, we find that we are lacking – nothing. There are, truly, no regrets – and that is a rare privilege in itself. There is sadness, and there is heartache, and there are tears - but there is no darkness. The gift that he gave us could not possibly be more complete, or more enduring, or more appreciated. For that, Dad, I will always be eternally grateful. Even though you’re a creep sometimes.
I've re-read these words many times since that day, and for some reason they always seem to give me the same comfort that they gave when I wrote them, late at night and alone with my thoughts and fears. When I feel my resolve slipping away, when the loss begins to outweigh the gain, they seem to help me focus on the latter rather than the former.
In the hope that they may in some fashion do the same for you, I'll offer them again here.
- Clay
In deference to Archie R. McCardell
Dark thoughts come far too easily, sometimes, during earth-shattering events.
We wonder what we would do if the worst thing we could imagine came to pass, how we would handle it, and whether our actions or reactions would measure up. In our family, we all strove to measure up to my Dad – to be as considerate, to be as thoughtful, to be as fair, and to simply be as good as we all knew him to be.
In my darkest thoughts, I never once imagined who I would be without my father’s steadying presence. I never once imagined my family without my father’s wisdom and comfort, our businesses without his guidance, or his comfort when I failed, and his congratulations when I succeeded. I never once imagined what I would say at my father’s funeral. There’s a reason, though, that my darkest thoughts never ventured here.
Through all the tears, and all the heartache, I realize that if I learned anything at all from my dad, I should know that this time is, at its heart, far from dark. When all is said and done, it’s far too obvious that we’ve been given a great gift. We were given so much time – as wife, as sibling, as child, as grandchild, as extended family - growing up, living together, playing together, working together – to fine tune ourselves and learn what life should mean from a wise man who took it upon himself to share his wisdom with us. We’ve been given a rare opportunity to look back at the past, without rose-colored glasses or deference to the dearly departed or empty, meaningless phrases, to look back honestly and still in wonder at a life well lived, and to savor what Dad will always mean to all of us. “Celebration of life” used not to mean quite so much to me. But that’s indeed where find ourselves today, and we have all been blessed to have known a man whose life, much more so than most, deserves celebration.
But I need to stop here. In our family - and from the unfortunately limited time I spend with our extended family, this is perhaps far from unique – we have a strange tradition. We can never speak anything other than ill of someone present – it’s just not done. And I know, looking at my Dad’s wife, brothers, sister, children, and grandchildren that he is much more here than gone. The life lessons that he imparted to each of us I see in myself, and in you all. He may not be here in body, but he certainly lives on in our hearts, in our thoughts, and in our souls – in who we are as people as we gather here today.
So if we all choose to accept that, then I am constrained by family tradition to briefly offer the following:
He was kind of a bastard. Sometimes, he was even an asshole - just ask my long-suffering mom. Certainly he was never very far removed from his mischievous side. You could look far and wide, and would be hard-pressed to find a more dishonest, unethical man anywhere. A slacker, as well – untrustworthy when push came to shove, inconsiderate, couldn’t hold a job for the life of him. A flighty, uncertain man, unsure of who and what he was and completely forgettable, also – he could pass unnoticed in any crowd. His presence had so little effect on those that he met that I constantly had to remind people that they had, in fact, met my father several times. An ungracious, selfish man who looked out for himself at the expense of others. Even a disloyal man, prone to disappoint, never to be relied on.
For a quick translation, I’ll share with you one of my co-workers’ views; since he’s not family, he doesn’t suffer under the same constraints. He said:
I know everyone who gets to spend time with him benefits from it and I for one did not get enough. This in mind, I cannot imagine your family’s grief and my heart is heavy for you all but envious of the amount of time you all had with such an inspiring human being. I have no words that can explain how much I thought of your dad but I am sure you know how he affected people. The impression he left on me and I am sure everyone he shared a room with is something only a few people in this world possess, the charisma and magnetism was as big as I have ever seen. I do feel lucky to have had the chance to speak one on one with him a few times in my life; I know I am a better person for having had the chance to steal a few minutes of his wisdom and I thank you for that opportunity. I am counting on you to spread some of that around as I know you had the chance to soak up a lifetime of lessons on how to be a good man. My thoughts are with your mom, you and your entire family.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but my dad has always been my main motivation to be the best man he taught me it is possible to be. I would rather have shriveled up and crawled in a hole than know that he was disappointed in me. Certainly none of us is perfect – but dad could always see beyond the imperfections, forgive us and love us without reservation despite them. There may have been some wiggle room, but for me there was a line that should never be crossed, lest I lose the pride in me and respect for me that I always hoped he had.
We all know Dad’s life. We all know that, despite his rise to the top of the international business world, despite the time he spent with presidents and vice presidents and in the corridors of power, he was an intensely private man. He didn’t much need public recognition, and he certainly never sought fame. Whatever he did, and whatever his accomplishments, he did with a sense of decency and a concern for the good of others. Despite – or more probably because of - his wisdom, his intellect, and his sense of self, I always thought of him as a simple man. Important to him, above all else, were honesty, fairness, a consideration of others, and pride in what you do. It didn’t matter who or what you were – a corporate leader, a breakfast waitress, a mechanic, a president, a plumber. If he knew you well enough to know that you had those traits, you had his respect. And somehow, however well people knew him, they always understood that his respect was something to be earned and, once earned, to be kept and nurtured and treasured.
Look around you, here in this remote, special place. I’m sure that the corporate chieftains and powerbrokers of yesteryear - not to mention the current crop of what dad felt to be self-promoting business leaders - would wonder why a man of Dad’s accomplishments would feel most comfortable here. Unless they knew him as we did, of course – unless they understood what this place is. This is a place for pioneers, of strong men and women who made a difference in the land, and in its people. A place for people who never demanded or expected respect, but rather who earned it through hard work and dedication to principle. A place for a man who accomplished much in his long and storied life, read voraciously about current affairs, but when enjoying some well-earned down time, lost himself in Louis L’Amour’s simple tales about men, and women, who represented the essence of what he knew was important in life.
Dad would never have wanted a large, public service. Even in this place, with the never-ending sky and the expanse of high desert all around, there never would have been enough room to hold the people whose lives he touched over the course of his 81 years. He would look around now at his wife, his brothers, his sister, his children and grandchildren and the rest of his family, and he’d be satisfied that he had done all that he could do, more than most are ever capable of, of showing us the way, of leading us down the right path, and showing us how to handle life’s ups and downs with the grace and compassion that too few people on this earth possess.
So the bright sun is out, and despite the tears and the sense of finality, I’m left to wonder what on earth I did to deserve the uninterrupted 45 years that I was lucky enough to learn from my dad – as a child, as a teenager, as a businessman, and as a son. I was given the opportunity that few sons have, to revere him as a father, to grow up and work with him, to learn as I grew older that he wasn’t perfect – but that he was very definitely far more than just “one of us”. He was a gift to us. I find myself wanting more, but that of course is selfish – I can’t think of any possible way that he could have given us more than he did.
Not one of us was unsure of what he meant to us in life, any more than we’re unsure of what he meant to us now that he’s left us. Not one of us was ever unappreciative of the time we always felt privileged to spend with him. We have always known and completely understood how integral a part of our lives he was, just as we have always known how important we were to him. The true gift that he gave to all of us, and that I will treasure until I join him, is that we always knew this great man loved us. There is nothing left unsaid.
This day – this week – gives us the necessity of focusing on the minute details of our time together, of putting our lives with him in clear focus, and of redefining ourselves. In doing so, we find that we are lacking – nothing. There are, truly, no regrets – and that is a rare privilege in itself. There is sadness, and there is heartache, and there are tears - but there is no darkness. The gift that he gave us could not possibly be more complete, or more enduring, or more appreciated. For that, Dad, I will always be eternally grateful. Even though you’re a creep sometimes.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Archie's Blog
Views
This is Dad's view. He is surrounded by the sweet smell of sage, looking over some of the best fishing in the world on the North Platte River. He's in an area named for Lt. Fremont -- another Pathfinder, as Dad always was. He lies beneath gloriously open western skies. And there's a bench right there so you can visit, whether in person or on this blog.
Many of the notes we received after Dad passed away last month commented that he was "larger than life" -- and he was. He touched people from one end of this world to the other.
So -- this blog is our way of bringing together a community -- a community of people whose lives Dad enriched, whose stories he listened to, whose laughter he shared. Please join us -- please add your stories, or respond to others!!
Dad's public life was one thing, highlighted (darkly?) in the obituaries. All of us however knew and love a different person -- so let's post THOSE views, those stories.
Back to Dad's view: You can see a few stones around the site. Well -- in keeping with the way Grandma Martin collected stones from the beach to build Boulder Lodge, or the way we collected stones from the farm in Honeoye Falls NY to build the fireplace, we're hoping you will help us collect stones to surround this plot. Laurie's family will keep track of who sent stones from where (Laurie McCardell, PO Box 130, Alcova WY 82620). And so Dad's view will change with help from all of us -- as he helped change all our views, over 81 years...
Come join us! -- Sandy
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Archie R. McCardell
Casper Star Tribune
Wednesday, July 16, 2008 7:31 AM MDT
CASPER -- A private family service for Archie R. McCardell, 81, will be held at Alcova.
He died on July 11, 2008, at Wyoming Medical Center in Casper surrounded by family.
He was born on August 29, 1926, in Hazel Park, Mich.He entered the U.S. Army Air Corps at age 18.
Upon his discharge, he enrolled at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor.
He received his bachelor's and master's degrees in business administration in 1948 and 1949, respectively.
He met Margaret Edith Martin at the University of Michigan in 1949. They were married in 1950.She was an indispensable part of his long and successful career.
He then joined the Ford Motor Company as a financial analyst.
After leaving his post as Director of Finance for Ford Germany in 1966, he returned to the U.S. and worked for Xerox Corporation, where he was appointed president and chief operating officer in 1971.
At Xerox, he pioneered the company's innovative Social Service Leave Program, which for the first time granted paid leave to employees wishing to volunteer in their communities.
In 1977, he moved to Chicago and worked at International Harvester, where he became chief executive officer in 1978, and chairman in 1979.
He served on the board of directors of the American Express Company, Honeywell Inc., and the General Foods Corporation, and as a trustee of the University of Chicago, Northwestern Memorial Hospital, the Orchestral Association of Chicago, the Business Council, the Conference Board, and the Business Roundtable.
He was a member of the Advisory Council of the Stanford University School of Business.
He retired in 1984.
He went into business with his wife and children and divided his time between Fairfield, Conn., and Savannah, Ga., before moving to Casper in 1998.
He was respected and admired by all who knew him. His commanding presence, as well as his intelligence and wisdom and unfailing kindness, honesty, grace and humor were always an example to everyone who was privileged to have spent time with him. Despite his long and successful career, he never lost touch with his roots and found the most pleasure in the simple things in life, and in spending time with his family.
He is survived by his wife of nearly 60 years, Margaret, and children Sandy and Clay McCardell and Laurie McCardell-Patton.
In lieu of flowers, donations in his honor may be sent to the Steven M. Ross School of Business at the University of Michigan, 7001 Tappan Street, Rm. 3700, Wyly Hall, Ann Arbor MI 48109-1234.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008 7:31 AM MDT
CASPER -- A private family service for Archie R. McCardell, 81, will be held at Alcova.
He died on July 11, 2008, at Wyoming Medical Center in Casper surrounded by family.
He was born on August 29, 1926, in Hazel Park, Mich.He entered the U.S. Army Air Corps at age 18.
Upon his discharge, he enrolled at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor.
He received his bachelor's and master's degrees in business administration in 1948 and 1949, respectively.
He met Margaret Edith Martin at the University of Michigan in 1949. They were married in 1950.She was an indispensable part of his long and successful career.
He then joined the Ford Motor Company as a financial analyst.
After leaving his post as Director of Finance for Ford Germany in 1966, he returned to the U.S. and worked for Xerox Corporation, where he was appointed president and chief operating officer in 1971.
At Xerox, he pioneered the company's innovative Social Service Leave Program, which for the first time granted paid leave to employees wishing to volunteer in their communities.
In 1977, he moved to Chicago and worked at International Harvester, where he became chief executive officer in 1978, and chairman in 1979.
He served on the board of directors of the American Express Company, Honeywell Inc., and the General Foods Corporation, and as a trustee of the University of Chicago, Northwestern Memorial Hospital, the Orchestral Association of Chicago, the Business Council, the Conference Board, and the Business Roundtable.
He was a member of the Advisory Council of the Stanford University School of Business.
He retired in 1984.
He went into business with his wife and children and divided his time between Fairfield, Conn., and Savannah, Ga., before moving to Casper in 1998.
He was respected and admired by all who knew him. His commanding presence, as well as his intelligence and wisdom and unfailing kindness, honesty, grace and humor were always an example to everyone who was privileged to have spent time with him. Despite his long and successful career, he never lost touch with his roots and found the most pleasure in the simple things in life, and in spending time with his family.
He is survived by his wife of nearly 60 years, Margaret, and children Sandy and Clay McCardell and Laurie McCardell-Patton.
In lieu of flowers, donations in his honor may be sent to the Steven M. Ross School of Business at the University of Michigan, 7001 Tappan Street, Rm. 3700, Wyly Hall, Ann Arbor MI 48109-1234.
Headed Harvester during bitter strike: 172-day work stoppage in 1979 was punishing to company that started in Chicago, became Navistar
July 15, 2008
By Trevor Jensen Chicago Tribune reporter
Chicago Tribune
Archie R. McCardell was in charge at International Harvester during a 172-day strike by United Auto Workers that began in 1979 and dealt a punishing financial blow to the company.
Mr. McCardell, 81, died of complications from heart failure on Friday, July 11, in a Casper, Wyo., hospital, said his grandson, Scott Arcenas. He lived in Wyoming since 1998.
Previously president and chief operating officer at Xerox, Mr. McCardell joined International Harvester in 1977. The venerable Chicago firm's roots reach back to Cyrus McCormick's reaper—Mr. McCardell took over from family heir Brooks McCormick, who recruited him.
He started as president and was named chief executive officer a few months later, focusing on cost-cutting and efficiencies. His compensation package was eye-opening for the time—a reported $1.5 million signing bonus and a $450,000 annual salary. In 1979, Mr. McCardell's second year on the job, International Harvester posted record earnings of nearly $400 million.
But simmering labor issues erupted on Nov. 1, 1979, when 35,000 company employees represented by the United Auto Workers walked out. A settlement wasn't reached until the following April.
The strike cost the company millions of dollars and along with a recession led to a downward spiral that resulted in units being sold. In 1986, what was left of the once mighty firm took the name Navistar.
The strike was the backdrop for a public relations fiasco when it was learned that in August 1980, the company forgave a $1.8 million loan to Mr. McCardell because certain financial goals had been reached.
Amid mounting losses, Mr. McCardell resigned from International Harvester in May 1982 at the request of company directors.
Mr. McCardell was a Michigan native and served in the Army Air Corps before receiving his bachelor's and master's degrees in business from the University of Michigan.
He worked at Ford Motor Co. for many years, including a stint as director of finance in Germany, before joining Xerox in 1966. There, he helped initiate a program that offered paid leave to employees that wanted to volunteer in their communities.
After leaving International Harvester, Mr. McCardell and his family led the development of the land around his Connecticut home, the former Pepperidge Farm estate.
Mr. McCardell is also survived by his wife, Margaret; a son, Clay; two daughters, Sandra and Laurie; two brothers, Allan and Arnold; a sister, JoAnne Iwanicki; and four other grandchildren.
By Trevor Jensen Chicago Tribune reporter
Chicago Tribune
Archie R. McCardell was in charge at International Harvester during a 172-day strike by United Auto Workers that began in 1979 and dealt a punishing financial blow to the company.
Mr. McCardell, 81, died of complications from heart failure on Friday, July 11, in a Casper, Wyo., hospital, said his grandson, Scott Arcenas. He lived in Wyoming since 1998.
Previously president and chief operating officer at Xerox, Mr. McCardell joined International Harvester in 1977. The venerable Chicago firm's roots reach back to Cyrus McCormick's reaper—Mr. McCardell took over from family heir Brooks McCormick, who recruited him.
He started as president and was named chief executive officer a few months later, focusing on cost-cutting and efficiencies. His compensation package was eye-opening for the time—a reported $1.5 million signing bonus and a $450,000 annual salary. In 1979, Mr. McCardell's second year on the job, International Harvester posted record earnings of nearly $400 million.
But simmering labor issues erupted on Nov. 1, 1979, when 35,000 company employees represented by the United Auto Workers walked out. A settlement wasn't reached until the following April.
The strike cost the company millions of dollars and along with a recession led to a downward spiral that resulted in units being sold. In 1986, what was left of the once mighty firm took the name Navistar.
The strike was the backdrop for a public relations fiasco when it was learned that in August 1980, the company forgave a $1.8 million loan to Mr. McCardell because certain financial goals had been reached.
Amid mounting losses, Mr. McCardell resigned from International Harvester in May 1982 at the request of company directors.
Mr. McCardell was a Michigan native and served in the Army Air Corps before receiving his bachelor's and master's degrees in business from the University of Michigan.
He worked at Ford Motor Co. for many years, including a stint as director of finance in Germany, before joining Xerox in 1966. There, he helped initiate a program that offered paid leave to employees that wanted to volunteer in their communities.
After leaving International Harvester, Mr. McCardell and his family led the development of the land around his Connecticut home, the former Pepperidge Farm estate.
Mr. McCardell is also survived by his wife, Margaret; a son, Clay; two daughters, Sandra and Laurie; two brothers, Allan and Arnold; a sister, JoAnne Iwanicki; and four other grandchildren.
Archie McCardell, Harvester Chief Who Clashed With Union, Dies at 81
By DOUGLAS MARTIN
Published: July 16, 2008
The New York Times
Archie R. McCardell, whose gruff, bottom-line approach as the new chief of the International Harvester Company in the late 1970s drew praise from Wall Street but the enmity of labor, culminating in a bitter five-and-a-half-month strike, died Friday in Casper, Wyo., where he lived. He was 81.
The cause was complications of heart failure, said his grandson, Scott Arcenas.
Mr. McCardell knew success early, as senior class president in high school and the first in his family to attend college. After earning an M.B.A., he rose to director of finance for the Ford Motor Company in Germany, then moved to Xerox, where he was promoted to president.
He joined Harvester, based in Chicago, in August 1977 as president and chief operating officer, explaining that he thought he would have a better chance of being the top executive there than at Xerox. He became chief executive the following January and chairman in June 1979.
Upon his arrival Mr. McCardell began an aggressive program to cut costs and engineered a profit increase in his first year, to $370 million from $203.7 million.
But Harvester’s margins were only a little more than half those of its competitors Caterpillar Inc. and Deere & Company. This had resulted in part from past concessions to labor and a tradition of paying out most earnings as dividends rather than reinvesting them.
When the United Auto Workers contract expired on Nov. 1, 1979, Mr. McCardell saw an opportunity to improve efficiency by persuading the union to give up rights it had won in past negotiations, particularly on overtime.
The union went on strike for nearly six months and eventually retained most of the work rights Mr. McCardell had sought to take away. Harvester had lost $479.4 million during the strike and $397.3 million in its 1980 fiscal year.
Union members complained that Mr. McCardell and his lieutenants only heightened tensions by acting arrogant and aloof during the strike, in one instance, they said, sending armed guards to watch dismissed workers clean out their lockers, The New York Times reported in 1982.
Another flash point was Mr. McCardell’s compensation package, which included a $1.5 million signing bonus and a $450,000 annual salary — astronomical figures for executive compensation then but modest ones by today’s standards. Workers as well as shareholders were also furious when the company forgave a $1.8 million loan to Mr. McCardell.
The labor problems only added to the company’s woes. Climbing interest rates, weak markets and high-cost plants had helped push Harvester’s debt to $4.5 billion. Only through an agreement with 200 lenders in 1981 did Harvester escape bankruptcy.
Mr. McCardell resigned in May 1982, although Time magazine and other publications suggested that his departure was really a firing. “The real wonder was that McCardell had not been ousted much earlier,” Time said.
International Harvester did not recover, and in 1985 it sold its farm equipment division, which had started with Cyrus McCormick’s reaper factory. Its crimson tractors and combines had long been a familiar feature of the American heartland. The remainder of the company, its truck and engines division, became the Navistar International Corporation in 1986.
Archie Richard McCardell was born in Hazel Park, Mich., on Aug. 29, 1926. He served in the Army Air Forces, then used the G.I. Bill to earn undergraduate and M.B.A. degrees from the University of Michigan. He joined Ford as a financial analyst. In 1960, he was appointed secretary-treasurer of Ford of Australia, and three years later became director of finance for Ford of Germany.
In 1966, he joined Xerox as group vice president for corporate services, rising to president in 1971. At Xerox, he helped set up a program for employees to get paid leave in order to serve their communities.
His ability to cut costs and shepherd technological innovation attracted the attention of Booz Allen Hamilton, which was helping revamp Harvester. Booz Allen recruited him for the Harvester job.
Mr. McCardell later worked in real estate development, scuba-diving expeditions and other business ventures.
He is survived by his wife, the former Margaret Edith Martin; three children, Sandra, Laurie and Clay, all of whom have the last name McCardell and all of whom live in Casper; two brothers, Allan, of Milford, Mich., and Arnold, of Perry, Mich.; one sister, JoAnne Iwanicki, of Warren, Mich.; and four grandchildren in addition to Mr. Arcenas.
Six months after Mr. McCardell left Harvester, he spoke to a group at Harvard Business School. He said he had two regrets: the controversial nature of his compensation deal, and not getting to know union people better before the strike.
Asked to grade himself, Mr. McCardell nonetheless replied, “I think I rate myself superb.”
Published: July 16, 2008
The New York Times
Archie R. McCardell, whose gruff, bottom-line approach as the new chief of the International Harvester Company in the late 1970s drew praise from Wall Street but the enmity of labor, culminating in a bitter five-and-a-half-month strike, died Friday in Casper, Wyo., where he lived. He was 81.
The cause was complications of heart failure, said his grandson, Scott Arcenas.
Mr. McCardell knew success early, as senior class president in high school and the first in his family to attend college. After earning an M.B.A., he rose to director of finance for the Ford Motor Company in Germany, then moved to Xerox, where he was promoted to president.
He joined Harvester, based in Chicago, in August 1977 as president and chief operating officer, explaining that he thought he would have a better chance of being the top executive there than at Xerox. He became chief executive the following January and chairman in June 1979.
Upon his arrival Mr. McCardell began an aggressive program to cut costs and engineered a profit increase in his first year, to $370 million from $203.7 million.
But Harvester’s margins were only a little more than half those of its competitors Caterpillar Inc. and Deere & Company. This had resulted in part from past concessions to labor and a tradition of paying out most earnings as dividends rather than reinvesting them.
When the United Auto Workers contract expired on Nov. 1, 1979, Mr. McCardell saw an opportunity to improve efficiency by persuading the union to give up rights it had won in past negotiations, particularly on overtime.
The union went on strike for nearly six months and eventually retained most of the work rights Mr. McCardell had sought to take away. Harvester had lost $479.4 million during the strike and $397.3 million in its 1980 fiscal year.
Union members complained that Mr. McCardell and his lieutenants only heightened tensions by acting arrogant and aloof during the strike, in one instance, they said, sending armed guards to watch dismissed workers clean out their lockers, The New York Times reported in 1982.
Another flash point was Mr. McCardell’s compensation package, which included a $1.5 million signing bonus and a $450,000 annual salary — astronomical figures for executive compensation then but modest ones by today’s standards. Workers as well as shareholders were also furious when the company forgave a $1.8 million loan to Mr. McCardell.
The labor problems only added to the company’s woes. Climbing interest rates, weak markets and high-cost plants had helped push Harvester’s debt to $4.5 billion. Only through an agreement with 200 lenders in 1981 did Harvester escape bankruptcy.
Mr. McCardell resigned in May 1982, although Time magazine and other publications suggested that his departure was really a firing. “The real wonder was that McCardell had not been ousted much earlier,” Time said.
International Harvester did not recover, and in 1985 it sold its farm equipment division, which had started with Cyrus McCormick’s reaper factory. Its crimson tractors and combines had long been a familiar feature of the American heartland. The remainder of the company, its truck and engines division, became the Navistar International Corporation in 1986.
Archie Richard McCardell was born in Hazel Park, Mich., on Aug. 29, 1926. He served in the Army Air Forces, then used the G.I. Bill to earn undergraduate and M.B.A. degrees from the University of Michigan. He joined Ford as a financial analyst. In 1960, he was appointed secretary-treasurer of Ford of Australia, and three years later became director of finance for Ford of Germany.
In 1966, he joined Xerox as group vice president for corporate services, rising to president in 1971. At Xerox, he helped set up a program for employees to get paid leave in order to serve their communities.
His ability to cut costs and shepherd technological innovation attracted the attention of Booz Allen Hamilton, which was helping revamp Harvester. Booz Allen recruited him for the Harvester job.
Mr. McCardell later worked in real estate development, scuba-diving expeditions and other business ventures.
He is survived by his wife, the former Margaret Edith Martin; three children, Sandra, Laurie and Clay, all of whom have the last name McCardell and all of whom live in Casper; two brothers, Allan, of Milford, Mich., and Arnold, of Perry, Mich.; one sister, JoAnne Iwanicki, of Warren, Mich.; and four grandchildren in addition to Mr. Arcenas.
Six months after Mr. McCardell left Harvester, he spoke to a group at Harvard Business School. He said he had two regrets: the controversial nature of his compensation deal, and not getting to know union people better before the strike.
Asked to grade himself, Mr. McCardell nonetheless replied, “I think I rate myself superb.”
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
