Category: default || By jt3y

Alert Reader Jonathan, proprietor of The Conversation, reminds me that today is the 25th anniversary of the day that President Reagan was shot. He also passed along a link to a retrospective in The Washington Post that includes video of the shooting: "I'm sure (you've) seen better footage than this, in which you get a good look at the agent who opened the door turning his body to face the shooter. That still gets to me."

Jonathan's referring to the fact that the Secret Service agent --- as trained --- put himself directly in the path of danger to save the President's life. How many of us would so quickly lay down our life for someone else's? Probably not many.

March 30, 1981, was a memorable day for residents of Our Fair City for other reasons. That afternoon, one of the largest fires the valley had seen since the 1976 blaze Downtown broke out at the Steelmet plant under the old 15th Avenue Bridge.

The Steelmet plant was built as the McKeesport Tin Plate Company at the turn of the 20th century, and by the 1920s, ranked as one of the world's leading producers of tin-plated steel, which was used for (among other things) canned goods. It also made McKeesport businessman Edwin Crawford one of the wealthiest people in Pennsylvania.

But Crawford wasn't investing any of the profits back into the firm to modernize its products, and bigger steel companies were turning out better and cheaper tinplate. The Depression soon knocked the pins out from under McKeesport Tin Plate, and when Crawford died Sept. 11, 1936 (leaving an estate of $1.5 million, about $20 million by today's standards), the company was already in decline.

In 1937, the company merged with one of its subsidiaries, National Can Co. The following year, it reported a net loss of $679,000, and that December, officials it demanded that employees take a steep wage cut; they went out on strike, instead, closing the mill for much of 1939. Though it reopened, by 1940, it was moribund.

The plant was taken over for defense work (I think by Jones & Laughlin) during World War II. Kelsey-Hayes purchased it after the war to stamp out automobile wheels. Eventually, it fell into the hands of Steelmet, a metal recycling company that specialized in expensive alloys.

In 1981, despite the rapid decline of the steel industry in the Mon Valley, Steelmet was one of the few metal handling firms that were still hiring. Then came the fire.

If I recall correctly, someone using a torch ignited a pile of titanium shavings. The blaze jumped to the roof of one of the old tinplate buildings and soon, much of the complex was on fire.

I remember this because my dad was working for Steelmet at the time as a purchasing agent. I was watching TV after school --- cartoons, on Channel 53, I think, because I seem to remember Ted Sohier breaking in with a bulletin about Reagan's shooting.

My grandparents were visiting that Monday evening. When they came in the house, my grandmother said something like, "Oh, it's so terrible."

I said, "Yes! The president was shot! The president was shot!"

She said, "No, your daddy's work is on fire."

Indeed it was. The smoke was visible for miles around. Though Steelmet (which had other facilities around the United States) eventually reopened, the Port Vue plant never really seemed to recover from the blaze, and the damage to the buildings was evident for years to come. Steelmet filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection in 1983, and dad and many of Steelmet's other employees were eventually laid off.

There is a happy ending of sorts; the company was sold to a German firm, ELG Haniel Metals, which invested millions of dollars to renovate the plant, much to the astonishment of us who had watched it decline over the years.

The McKeesport plant also houses the U.S. headquarters for the firm, which has locations in New York, Houston, Los Angeles, Chicago, Louisville, Ky., and Mobile, Ala. Today, the old tinplate mill is probably in better shape than at any time since Edwin Crawford's death.

Meanwhile, Dad went back to college, got his teaching certificate, and has spent the last two decades as an educator. So, Reagan recovered, the tinplate mill recovered, and our family recovered.

Andrew Carnegie used to say, "All is well since all grows better." While I don't always share the Old Scot's optimism about life, I can appreciate the sentiment. Eventually, traumatic events get put into their proper perspective, and things are rarely as tragic or catastrophic as they seem at the time.

Even James Brady, Reagan's press secretary, who was permanently disabled in the shooting, has retained a positive outlook on life, according to the Post. He and his wife are retired on the Delaware shore, visit with their friends and adult son frequently, and are still proud of being able, in the wake of Reagan's shooting, to get legislation passed that requires criminal background checks for people buying handguns.

"When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade," Jim Brady says. "I have several stands around here."