Workers face life without GM

Some at the Moraine, Ohio, plant plan to study for new vocations; others will begin to hunt for new jobs.

MORAINE, Ohio (AP) — General Motors Corp.’s financial woes have GM workers around the country worrying about what life without GM might be like. The 1,080 hourly workers at the automaker’s sport utility plant in this Dayton suburb are about to find out. For them, life without GM begins Tuesday.

That’s when the automaker pulls the plug on the plant that over the past 27 years has spit out cars, trucks and SUVs, helped pay mortgages and college educations, and provided a security blanket in turbulent times.

“The news was devastating at first,” said Jackie Wilson, a 39-year-old mother who has spent 15 years there.

GM and other U.S. automakers are mired in a sales slump because of the economic downturn, tight or nonexistent credit, and lack of consumer confidence. So far this year, GM alone has announced 11,000 U.S. layoffs.

Stress on the workers at the Moraine plant has been mounting since June, when GM announced it would close the plant.

Other GM plants could soon be facing a similar fate.

In Janesville, Wis., GM will cease making SUVs on Tuesday, putting 1,200 workers out of work. The plant will stay open until June to produce trucks along with Isuzu, but only about 50 workers will remain employed for that.

The White House threw GM and Chrysler LLC a lifeline Friday, offering $17.4 billion in rescue loans. On Sunday, Vice President Dick Cheney said the White House was forced to step in to save the companies after Congress failed to bail them out.

But the automakers must prove their viability by March 31.

When their uncertain future becomes a little too much for the Moraine workers, they slip into the newly established “quiet room,” a refuge from the clatter and whine of the assembly line, fork trucks and dolly trains that will soon go silent. In the quiet room, workers can be alone with their thoughts or trade concerns with a fellow worker.

And a “spiritual reflection” room enables workers to take their lunch hour to pray or meet with ministers, who troop into the plant to offer spiritual balm. Both rooms were set up by workers and management to ease the transition.

Wilson works in the paint house as the group leader in the final stage of the painting process. She knows she will dread seeing the first of 500 white GMCs crawl toward her down the assembly line. Those will be the last vehicles the plant will produce.

“When we see them coming, it’s really going to hit,” she said.

For some workers, the plant is more than just a workplace.

Scott Hurst, a 14-year veteran of the plant whose mother and grandfather also worked there, socializes with his co-workers. He and 11 colleagues formed an online gaming team.

“It was the people that actually made it a great place to work. You come in every day and you had your friends,” said Hurst, 35, of West Milton. “That made it interesting.”

GM employed 19,000 workers in the Dayton area in 1999, before spinning off its Delphi supplier division. Tuesday’s closing of the SUV plant will leave 572 workers at a GM engine plant the automaker owns jointly with Isuzu.

“This was a huge GM town, and now no more,” said John Heitmann, a professor at the University of Dayton who has taught classes on automobile history and its impact on American life.

Valerie Catchings, personnel director at the Moraine plant, said some of the workers are looking forward to a new beginning.

“Maybe they’re tired of the production work,” she said. “But others — their heart, their soul is with GM, and they just never envisioned any other option.”

Wilson has already sold her suburban Miamisburg house and moved in with her parents. She is taking college courses and hopes to earn a degree in nursing, banking on a job in the more secure health care industry.

“I’ll never be in this position again,” she said.

Hurst, who works in the communications department after stints in the body shop and other production areas, plans to go to college and get a degree in computer engineering.

Kenny Roberts, who has worked at the plant since 1985, is not sure what he will do.

“I’m going to look for a job without going back to school,” said Roberts, 51, of West Carrollton. “But the way things are, I’m probably not going to be finding anything decent.”

Roberts said he is thinking of pursuing a license to drive trucks, buses and heavy equipment. Another possibility is moving to Pittsburgh.

“Pittsburgh” Kenny is a rabid Steelers fan, a season-ticket holder who has stayed at the same Pittsburgh hotel for 17 years when he attends games. He’s confident he could get a job there.

Gaylen Turner, president of the International Union of Electronic Workers-Communication Workers of America Local 798, said some of the workers will likely move out of the area in pursuit of work. Others, he said, will stay because of family.

“The reality of it is I think a lot of people will suffer — unfortunately — because of the state of the economy,” he said. “But I think a lot of people will end up on their feet fine.”