Showing posts with label Groesbeck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Groesbeck. Show all posts

Monday, September 1, 2008

"The Idler" by Harry Appleton Groesbeck, Jr


Privately printed in early 1929 (my copy is stamped "APR 11 1929" on the inside cover), bound with a ribbon, "The Idler" gives the impression it was written about someone specific. Its four sheets of what could be parchment, folded into eight pages, are inside a larger-sized card-board cover.

The Idler:
A Romance in which the Builder Builded Better than he Knew
by Harry Appleton Groesbeck, Jr
Copyright 1929

We had just returned to his office from a personally conducted tour of the establishment. "A fine outfit, Mr. Gordon, and it looks to me like an unusual organization. I noticed a tall white-haired man who appeared in almost every department we visited. What is his connection with the business, may I ask?"

"That's Sandy. He's my 'Idler pulley.' I inherited him."

"Idler Pulley! Where did he get that title?"

Donald Gordon smiled. "It's worth telling," he said. "Back in father's time, power came from steam or water. A leather belt, running from the driving pulley on the shaft of the engine or water wheel to a fixed pulley on the main shaft, transmitted the power. The machinery could not be moved to accommodate the varying tightness or slackness of the belt due to weather conditions and temperature, so it was some problem to maintain constant and satisfactory power transmission. The trouble was general with all users of power. but the fact that it meant loss of money, inspired Sandy to stop the leak. He hated waste, naturally.

"One morning he showed me a heavy pulley which he had rigged on the top side of the upper stretch of the driving belt. It was held in place by means of two uprights, fixed to the floor on either side of the belt, both channeled to carry two especially made sliding bearings in which the pulley-shaft revolved. It took but a moment for me to realize that our driving-belt troubles were over, for this pulley afforded constant traction and assured maximum transmission of power, by rising or falling to meet the mood of the belt while in motion. As Sandy explained it, 'Ut cud luk to ye lika ussless theng jus lyen there idlin away uts time, but mon dere, it is the buzzies thing in the works, savin power at every turrn.'

"Idling away its time—an idler—Sandy had named the pulley."

"Why had he not stopped the trouble in your father's time, Mr. Gordon?"

"I don't know, unless it was that Dad wasn't the sort to invite experiments as he called them, but Sandy sensed a sporting streak in me and determined to set it to work."

"So you pensioned him for his idea and gave him the run of the shop to cheer him in his old age."

"Not a bit of it," replied Mr. Gordon. "Days of steam and water power with attendant belt troubles have given way to direct connected electric motors, but we still have to deal with the transmission of power, though in a different way. Today, the ideals of the management represent the power, the people on the payroll are the connecting link like the belt of old, by means of which we try to transmit the power of our ideals to a buying public. A too slack mental attitude anywhere among our people would mean direct loss of trade. Nothing could more quickly interfere with success. Sandy is our human 'Idler Pulley.' He takes up the slack—the mental slack—and keeps all hands 'constant' thinking and working happily at maximum efficiency and with minimum exertion, because they understand their work and are happy at it."

"I can see that what you pay Sandy is not wasted. As an analyist, I am interested to know to what department you charge his wages and how you trace his value in cash returns."

"Sandy is a 'Salaried official'," replied Mr. Gordon, "just for matter of record, what he draws comes out of overhead and is charged under the specific classification 'Idler Pulley Maintenance.' As to tracing results, how can any of our great merchants handling dry goods, for instance, directly trace the value of advertising, window display, show cases, counters and furnishings, information booths, the handling of customers by means of elevators and escalators, the office force in its entirety and, last but not least, free deliveries of merchandise? Give me the answer to that question and I will be able to answer yours."

"This I do know, that the installation of that idler pulley was, to me, so fundamental an event, that I credit it with having exerted the greatest influence in my life and the most far-reaching. It taught me that a fundamental of success is the stopping and prevention of leaks, be they mechanical, mental, moral, physical or financial. It taught me the value of time and enabled me to teach it to others. It taught me tolerance, and that just judgment cannot be based on what we think we see but only on what experience has made us to know. It taught me that the seemingly active person is not always the greatest contributor to the success of the work in which he appears to be engaged. It taught me how to live, and how to make life worth living—for others."

"So you feel that this man Sandy, without being directly associated with any one particular department, exercises an influence over the people of your organization in— well, what I might call the harmonizing of the cussedness of human nature."

"Yes, exactly, and far more effectively than if he were connected with the departments of personnel or welfare. The very fact that he is a free lance gives him moral standing. He goes where he will, when he will, and does whatever he cares to do. We ask no questions, lay down no program, and I don't mind telling you that in addition to his official salary, his name is on the bonus list every year."

"That is certainly most interesting. Now I am just wondering, in view of his unique usefulness, if he is training an understudy."

"No," replied Mr. Gordon. "I don't think that would be possible. Men of his type are rare, very rare, Sandy knows people and how to get them to give their best, willingly. I question if he is conscious of his own ability, but he does not allow any discord in this place because he knows what it costs. He has reduced labor turn-over to a minimum. I can only hope that the pride and pleasure of having known him will continue to stimulate us to work along his lines even were he not here. Personally, I feel that he is responsible for my successful transmission of vital power to all with whom I come in contact. I am sure that anything so fundamental as his work has now been built into the spirit of the organization, but I certainly do drink to long life to Sandy."

Monday, September 3, 2007

Important and Interesting


A few years ago, through a Google search, I became aware of a rare book entitled, Important and Interesting Trial of Mortimer J. Smith, on an Indictment for Libel on Miss Emma Williams: in Having Connected Her Name with the Separation of David Groesbeck (the New York Wall Street broker), from his Wife: in the Albany Court of Session, December 16, 1847.

The book was listed in an auction catalogue for law books, with a reserve price of $250, much higher than its original price of 12¢. The auction was long over--great tragedy--but at least I knew the book existed. Later, I learned there were two editions, 1847 and 1870. The 1870 edition included additional material.

The 1847 edition was published out of Albany, New York, by Mortimer J. Smith, reprinting from Smith's short-lived publication, the Castigator. From what I can tell, the Castigator was only published in 1847, and Mr. Groesbeck's adulterous affair with Emma Williams may have been its only focus. Groesbeck accused Smith of defaming the character of Emma Williams and causing the separation of Groesbeck from this first wife, Mary W. Robinson. In the his trial for libel, Smith was found not guilty. To celebrate, Smith produced the 1847 edition of the book.

The book was reprinted in 1870 out of New York, with additional material and an introduction which took pains to point out that "In reproducing this evidence it is not for the gratification of malice, or to cater to a prurient taste, but simply in a philosophic sense to place before the public the facts developed in the trial." The unnamed editor goes on to say, "A quarter of a century ago, the individual whose name figures so frequently in the following pages, gave abundant evidences of that lamentable obliquity of moral vision which has ever prevented him from pursuing the paths of virtue...in this 'green and salad days,' with the hot blood of youth running riot in his veins, he neglected his loving wife to frolic on the barn floor with the fair object of an unlawful passion."

Now, our good friends at the Harvard University Library have made both editions of the book available on-line, not for $250, not for 12¢, but for free. The 1847 edition can be found here. The 1870 edition can be found here.

Groesbeck and Emma Williams were married on 21 Feb 1848, just a few months after the conclusion of the trial.