"Norma Rae": Mother of the Textile Bowl?

 

The Textile Bowl Trophy has been in Clemson's possession since 2012.

© Tim Peeler, 2021

NOTE: If you enjoy reading "One Brick Back" and would like to help offset research expenses for stories such as this, please make a small donation to the cause and help keep these posts free of ads. Also, I couldn't have written this or any other piece about the textile industry without the input of my friend Devin Steele, editor and publisher of eTextileCommunications.com. He is literally "The Voice of the U.S. Textile Industry," starting his successful newsletter in 2014 and building it from scratch after traditional media began to go away. Read about his journey here: Greenville Business Magazine. If you want to learn more about the textile industry, subscribe to his weekly newsletter here and follow him on LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Devin gave me my first job as a writer for Technician, NC State's student newspaper, in 1984 and we've both been plugging away at it ever since. I still don't know whether to thank or curse him.

 In the late 1970s, the textile industry that had long propped up the economies of North and South Carolina and employed more than a million workers in each state took a couple of major hits.

First, on March 2, 1979, 20^th Century Fox Studios released director Martin Ritt’s "Norma Rae," a fictionalized account of the real-life struggle of Crystal Lee Sutton to unionize the J.P Stevens cotton mill in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina, and to get her co-workers to join the Amalgamated Clothing and Textile Workers Union.

The film was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture that year (losing to "Kramer vs. Kramer"), and Sally Field won the Best Actress Oscar for her portrayal of Sutton, a single mom with three children making $2.65 a hour folding towels at the plant who led the dangerous organizing campaign in notoriously anti-union North Carolina.

Then, the next year, the Charlotte Observer assigned a half-dozen reporters and four editors to investigate the textile industry in both states for a high incidences of byssinosis, a rare asthma-like respiratory disease caused by breathing dust particulates from unprocessed cotton.

Comparable to coal workers pneumoconiosis (CWP), or “black lung disease” among coal miners, the incurable affliction became known as “brown lung disease.” It was something plant operators, state and federal regulators chose to ignore for far too long.

On April 14, 1981, the Observer won the Pulitzer Prize Gold Medal for Public Service for its series “Brown Lung: A Case of Deadly Neglect,” a total of 22 articles and eight editorials that exposed the lack of industry control and concern for the health of its workers, many of whom sought disability compensation for lost wages after contracting the disease. It was the first of five Pulitzers the paper has won in its history.

Needless to say, the textile industry that provided more manufacturing jobs than any other industry in the two states at the time needed a major positive publicity boost, to take it back to the pre-World War II days when textiles accounted for 40 percent of the states' workforce.

So the N.C. Textile Manufacturers Association and the S.C. Textile Manufacturers Association came up with an idea: The Textile Bowl, pitting NC State and Clemson together in a college football game at the culmination of Textile Week in both states. They even got the Greenville, South Carolina,-based Textile Hall Corporation, the longtime promoter of the wildly popular Southern Textile Basketball Tournament, to provide a silver cup for the winner. The NCTMA and the SCTMA also kicked in $500 for each of the school’s textile scholarship funds.

At the time, both the biggest land grant universities in the two states were among a dozen institutions around the nation that had textile programs that offered a full range of textile degrees, from undergraduate to PhD., to improve the design and production of clothing goods and textile manufacturing.

The day before that inaugural game, hopes were high, as one industry official said, that both states were in “the early stages of a new textile revolution.”

Oh, how that prediction came true – but not in the way the industry leaders wanted. Despite and because of multiple interventions from federal leaders in Washington, the textile industry began a rapid decline throughout the 1980s, losing jobs to Asian manufacturers with low-cost goods and depressed labor costs. Hundreds of plants—particularly those that once employed my mom, many neighbors and parents of friends—closed in western North Carolina.

With the passage of the Canadian-U.S. Free Trade Agreement in 1988 and the North American Free-Trade Agreement in 1994—both created to eliminate trade barriers within the participating countries— textile manufacturing in both states cratered. In 2003, Fieldcrest-Cannon shut down Cannon Mills, the world's largest textile manufacturing plant, located in Kannapolis. Overnight, 5,000 employees lost their jobs.

When the Great Recession of 2007-09 hit, there seemed to be little hope of ever seeing textiles return as a viable economic sector in either state. Clemson shut down its textile school and folded its textile degree programs into departments within its engineering college, following the model of many other universities. It still does groundbreaking work in the field, but with a lesser commitment to having a college devoted to it.

That left NC State as the only university in the country with a school or college devoted solely to textile education and development, with more than 1,000 degree-seeking students enrolled annually.

Slowly, it has led the way in restoring the once-dominant industry through advanced technology.

Famously, A. Blanton Godfrey, former dean of NC State’s College of Textiles, said in 2012: “Norma Rae would have trouble getting a job [at a textile plant] today. But if she wants to sit at a computer terminal and program the reboot, that’s different. It’s a very different world.”

Higher transportation costs, tariffs and rising wages in China and other countries helped revive domestic interest in textiles, along with an emphasis on “Made In America” brands by big-box retailers.

In 2004, NC State even joined forces with UNC-Chapel Hill, Duke, six other research institutions and industry partners to create the North Carolina Research Campus on the site of the former Fieldcrest-Cannon manufacturing plant in Kannapolis. It is a thriving 350-acre research park devoted to studying human health through nutrition and developing safer, healthier foods.

In 2018, thanks to $28 million gift by Frederick “Fred” Eugene Wilson Jr. and three generations of the Wilson family, College of Textiles was renamed in their honor, becoming just the second named college at NC State.

The college is responsible for a modern resurgence of the textile industry, both in the state and nationally, thanks to a concentration on technological efficiency, sustainability and advancement, plus the development of the world’s first Nonwoven’s Institute. NC State is now a global leader in wearable technology. It even helped former Wolfpack football players in bringing new athletic products to the market.

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit in February 2020, the Wilson College of Textiles pivoted quickly to help companies increase production of personal protective equipment and continues to develop new and efficient processes. Now, North Carolina’s 600-plus textile and nonwoven manufacturing plants export a national leading $2 billion in goods and products and the Wilson College of Textiles churns out graduates and innovative ideas for industry partners.  

But what about football? Wasn’t that the point of the Textile Bowl?

Program from the inaugural Textile Bowl

Well, 40 years ago this season, NC State jumped out to an early lead in the inaugural game, thanks to a 13-yard touchdown run by Larmount Lawson in the first quarter, the first rushing touchdown given up by the Tiger defense in its first seven games. Clemson rallied with 10 points in the second quarter, held the Wolfpack to just 63 yards of total offense in the second half and cruised to a 17-7 victory. It was the team's seventh consecutive victory en route to winning the school’s first of three football national championships.

[NOTE: Updated to reflect last year's 27-21 double-overtime win by NC State in Carter-Finley Stadium.] The Tigers, in recent years, have won 15 of the last 17 games in the series, which began back in 1899. They had won eight in a row prior to last year's loss in Carter-Finley Stadium. They own a 28-11 record in games branded as the Textile Bowl, but last year's win by the Wolfpack put the coveted Textile Bowl Cup back in Raleigh since that game.

The old rivals did not meet two years ago for the first time since 1969 and ’70, but the rivalry is now on track to continue until one of the two schools opts to move to another conference, if re-alignment ever actually happens.

Sure, Clemson has won most of the football in the rivalry, but NC State has taken an insurmountable lead in the textile industry’s revival.

The Ryder Cup at Kenan Stadium

UNC athletics photo from GoHeels.com

BY TIM PEELER

NOTE: If you enjoy reading "One Brick Back" and would like to help offset research expenses for stories such as this one, please make a small donation to the cause and help keep posts like this free of ads.

© Landmark Communications, 1999

These are two unpublished sidebars to a story I did for the Greensboro News & Record prior to the 1999 US Open in Pinehurst. The primary piece is about how the contentious 1951 Ryder Cup brought an end to the once popular North & South Open, the professional version of the North & South Amateur that has been played for almost 120 years at Pinehurst No. 2. The first sidebar is about the British team's trip to see top-ranked Tennessee play North Carolina at Kenan Stadium, where a lavish welcome awaited all. They even served tea—not wine and cheese—to British journalists in the press box. Here is an account of that day from UNC football and state golf historian Lee Pace. The second sidebar is about American hero and Duke legend Skip Alexander and his miraculous performance in his Sunday match just over a year after he was the sole survivor of a Civil Air Patrol crash in Evansville, Ind.

CHAPEL HILL—When the Ryder Cup was played at Pinehurst in 1951, the PGA of America, which hosted the event, agreed not to play matches on Saturday, Nov. 3, because all the state's attention would be focused on the UNC-Tennessee football game played that day at Kenan Stadium.

In a gesture of good will, UNC invited the players from both the American and British teams to the football game, which the top-ranked and eventual national champion Volunteers won 27-0. Tailback Hank Lauricella rushed for two touchdowns and 150 yards, and threw another scoring pass as UT won its 16th consecutive game.

It was a courteous affair, with a big luncheon before the game with most of the British team members, but only a few Americans. British journalists were even served tea in the press box at half time.

Here are the thoughts of one writer, Desmond Hackett of the London Daily Express, on what he saw. He was little impressed with the action of the 42,000 spectators at the game. And to think, he's never even saw a game at the Smith Center.

"They tried to tell me that this was a tough-guy game, a piece of legalized mayhem that made bullfighting look sissy. No sir. Any professional rugby club in England could eliminate the heavily armored characters who ambled in and out of this game.

"The England men do not need the insurance policy of crash helmets and more padding than a horse hair couch. They wear extremely brief shorts and cotton shirts and in this rig I feel sure they could beat the long pants off these American huskies. That is merely my opinion and an opinion which I freely express because I shall be able to duck out of town. 

"Back in England, the men of rugby football play forty minutes each way with one 10-minute interval. They would gulp at the idea of bringing in substitutes or that amazing all-change system when a team breaks off the defense shore and moves on the attack.

"We love your beautiful North Carolina girls who so sweetly led the organized cheering.  We feel sure they mean well but most of their best efforts appeared to inspire brisker action from the opposition members.

"The England crowd do not need any of this artificial stimulant, they up and roar their heads off when they feel so inclined. And this goes for the carriage trade in the grandstands. A polite hand clap was the nearest thing to a bust of enthusiasm that the upper set could arouse.

"There seemed to be considerable respect for the extensive panel of referees and the supporting cast of the chain gang who appeared to be taking constant ground survey in the middle of the affair. The English crowd stand up for their right to question the verdict of the referee. They are not slow to state their willingness to buy him glasses on account of his short-sightedness, or to suggest that he could not move so well because of the money tucked into his boots by the rival managers.

"But this American way of football is gay and colorful and I suppose a great game if you can guess what is going on. It is way ahead of England in its setting. This dignified arena in the glade of the deep green pines is among the finest sporting prints I have ever seen. So thanks for a wonderful memory.''

The 1951 Ryder Cup Hero

The undoubted hero of the 1951 Ryder Cup matches was Stewart "Skip" Alexander, the former Duke golfer who survived a near-fatal plane crash a year before.

Alexander, thought to be a weak link on the American team because of his massive injuries, did not participate in Friday's Scotch foursomes, but did play on Sunday, rolling up an 8 and 7 triumph over John Panton despite still being bothered by the injuries he suffered in the crash.

Stewart "Skip" Alexander of Durham.

"The thing I remember most about the Ryder Cup, was seeing Skip Alexander on the driving range, hitting balls,'' said Harvie Ward, the famed amateur golfer who had just completed his collegiate career at UNC.  "He had to wear gloves because of the injuries he had in that terrible airplane crash and every five or 10 minutes he would take those gloves off and the skin would come off with them.''

Alexander's hands bled throughout the match with Panton, yet Alexander's win was the largest margin of victory of the day for the Americans.

"I never thought he would play again,'' said Sam Snead, when introducing him at the awards ceremony.

Alexander was the lone survivor of a Sept. 24, 1950, crash of a Civil Air Patrol plane near Evansville, Ind. He suffered serious burns on his legs, head and hands and a crushed ankle that eventually ended his professional golf career because he could no longer walk the course as he played.

In all, Alexander had 17 surgeries at Duke, including the removal of three knuckles and a procedure that permanently curved his left hand so he could hold a golf club.

He eventually became the head pro at Lakewood Golf Club in St. Petersburg, Florida, a course he played the day before he died on Oct. 24, 1997, at the age of 79. A member of the North Carolina Sports, Carolinas Golf and Duke halls of fame, Alexander is buried in Durham.

(Sports Illustrated published this story about Alexander this week.)

 

High-Flying Successes in Raleigh and Starkville

 

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© Tim Peeler, 2021

The only time NC State’s Wolfpack has ever traveled to Starkville, Mississippi, for a football game, it missed all the excitement in its hometown, all in favor of a miserable train trip with a jubilant outcome.

Not long before the players of first-year coach John “Clipper” Smith boarded a train for an 800-mile overnight train to face the Mississippi A&M Maroons (as Mississippi State was then known), the most unusual device to ever hover over Raleigh airspace landed at the old Curtiss-Wright Airfield on Tryon Road.

And it was piloted by – gasp – a woman.

Not just any woman, of course. The odd-looking Beech-Nut autogiro was flown by the world’s most famous female aviator, Amelia Earhart, on a literal barnstorming tour to promote the hybrid airplane-helicopter that was often called a “flying windmill.” It was the first stop on a 13-city demonstration tour of the Southeast, sponsored by a Northeastern chewing gum company.

It was as if, on that November weekend 90 years ago, that the future was chasing the past on the last train out of town.

Over the next three weeks, Earhart not only landed in Greensboro, Winston-Salem, Charlotte, Fayetteville, Pinehurst, Spartanburg, Greenville (S.C.), Charleston, Savannah and Atlanta, she did low-altitude flyovers of towns like Statesville, Salisbury and Concord en route to rudimentary municipal landing strips across three states.

Earhart flew from New York to Richmond to Raleigh on Thursday, Nov. 5, 1931, just in time to appear at a morning meeting of the city’s Women’s Club and then a Chamber of Commerce-sponsored charity luncheon at the downtown Sir Walter Raleigh Hotel.

The football team never got to meet the famed flyer because after class, they went over to Riddick Stadium, walked through a handful of muscle-loosening drills, and then boarded a 9 p.m. train to Starkville, which, as Technician reported cryptically, was "full of unpleasant surprises."

The next day, as the 26 players on the travel roster crawled out of their Pullman car, Earhart was offered red-carpet treatment in Raleigh. That night, she arrived on NC State’s campus for a 20-minute lecture on the future of aviation to the school’s student chapter of the American Society of Mechanical Engineers at the old YMCA Building located across the street from Pullen Park.

Earhart was already familiar with the state of North Carolina before coming to Raleigh. Three years earlier, a few months after she became the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean as a passenger, she had attended the 25^th anniversary celebrating the first flight at Kitty Hawk on the Outer Banks. Her mode of transportation for final 70 miles of that trip? A motorcoach bus, a sea-sickening ferry and a horse-drawn wagon shared with 20 other dignitaries, including Wilbur Wright.

During a lively question-and-answer session with students on State’s campus, Earhart told an eerily foreboding story about her transatlantic flight from Newfoundland to Southampton, United Kingdom, made so by the retroactive knowledge that Earhart was lost at sea just six years later flying over the Pacific Ocean. Neither she, nor wreckage of her aircraft, was ever found.

“Well, there is little to say as to the feeling of being afraid of the water. We were not able to see the ocean because we were flying between two blankets of fog. However, we did catch a few views of the vast expanse of water whenever there were breaks in the fog blanket. The plane was equipped with pontoons so that in case of a forced landing we would not be in quite the same condition as if we were without them. As we approached the shore of the British Isles, we were on the look-out for landmarks to get our bearings. Once, having sighted land, we continued, but turned back to the coast since we were without the proper gear for a terra firma landing. Also, our gasoline supply was running low. We sighted a small village, which we thought was on the coast of Ireland, but later discovered that we were in Wales, a section of western Britain.

“We taxied up to the little inlet and tied the plane to a small buoy and had high hopes of getting to shore at once. A group of workmen on a railroad car glanced at us but continued their work. Gordon, our mechanic, lowered himself to one of the pontoons where he tried to attract the attention of someone on the shore to bring a boat out to us so we could get ashore. Efforts were useless. Took a towel and started waving it out one of the windows, hoping that the shoremen would see our white distress signal. One man toss off his coat and started to swim to us but the distance was too great. Later in the day as the people stopped their work, some of them gathered along the beach. Finally, seven hours after tying to the buoy, we did reach our destination – land. The people were very friendly. Their sole ambition, after they discovered who we were, was to touch us. After flying the North Atlantic and going through the mauling the citizens gave us, we were more than just tired – we were sore. After refueling our ship, we continued on our flight to Southampton.”

Technician, Nov. 6, 1931

Earhart went on to describe to the State College engineers and students how the Beech-Nut autogiro, brainchild of Spanish engineer Juan de la Cierva in 1918, worked: using four rotating blades, the craft was lifted off the ground and flew thanks to a front-mounted propeller that forced air over the stubby wings on the side. Earhart was flying the first commercially available version and the first one ever to fly into Raleigh.

The next day, as the football team dragged itself to Mississippi A&M’s football field, Earhart did three free-to-the-public airshows at Raleigh’s air field. She did a private interview with UNC’s Daily Tar Heel – after spitting her sponsor-provided chewing gum into a trashcan.

Katharine Stinson talking to women engineering students.

Shortly afterward, Earhart was approached by a 15-year-old girl from nearby Varina, North Carolina, a curious volunteer go-fer at the airport.

“I want to be a pilot, too,” the precocious teen said.

“Don’t become a pilot,” Earhart told her, “become an engineer.”

And that’s what Katharine Stinson did. She not only became the first woman to earn an engineering degree at NC State College, she was also the first female engineer hired at what is now the Federal Aviation Administration and a founder and future president of the Society of Women Engineers.

“I told her I was going to be a pilot, and she said that was nice, but I should be able to do something other than just fly a plane,” Stinson said in a Feb. 16, 1988, interview in the Raleigh News and Observer. “She said I should study engineering.”

Meanwhile in Starkville, the Wolfpack football team was looking for its second win in as many seasons against Mississippi A&M. The Wolfpack won 14-0 the year before at Raleigh’s Riddick Field.

The two Southern Conference opponents had also been scheduled to play each other in Raleigh in 1929, just a few weeks after the stock market collapse at the end of an inglorious season. The game was canceled due to lack of relevance.

Two seasons later, however, the Wolfpack was led by future College Football Hall of Famer John “Clipper” Smith, one of a string of former Notre Dame players or Knute Rockne acolytes hired to bring the Fighting Irish system to NC State. It had not been a great debut, but it had opened the season with a win over Davidson and on Halloween day it had stayed close against heavily favored rival North Carolina.

For the first two quarters, the game was scoreless, played in front of a moribund crowd of a few thousand, far fewer than saw Earhart in Raleigh. In the third quarter, NC State end Milo Stroupe blocked a Mississippi State punt at the 14-yard-line. Teammate Bob Gleason picked it up and crossed the goal line for the only score of the game.

Since a Wolfpack dropkick failed to secure an extra point, the game was in doubt until the final second, especially when Mississippi A&M’s injured starting quarterback was replaced by a passer that led the offense into NC State territory on several occasions in the fourth quarter.

As the game drew to a close, Mississippi advanced all the way to the 1-yard-line before the State defense stopped it on fourth down as time expired.

After it was over, the two dozen battered and bruised Wolfpack players loaded back on the train for another overnight train trip to Raleigh. Some 18 hours later, stiff and tired, they returned to campus just as Earhart flew away to greet some 25,000 spectators at an airshow in Greensboro.

Oh, how much easier it would have been to fly.