March 29, 2024

Finding out about Fred

I can’t help but associate laundry with Maytag, even the color blue.

Growing up in Newton, a privilege in which I’m proud, was a pleasant experience. Neighbors, teachers and friends were fine. A small town bond and a big city security made for a happy, content community.

After I left town for college in 2003, strangers or new friends would instantly package Newton with Maytag, almost without fail. It was a conversation starter, although in 2006, the conversation changed.

Despite a oneness with Maytag, I knew very little about F. L. or Fred except that they were Episcopalians like us. My familiarity with the name lied solely with the factory and the machines, something my grandpa or the schools taught us on field trips, and the public facilities like the pool and dairy farms.

But as I got older, I became intrigued about the family lineage, these men’s affect in town and with the way things use to be. I wanted to get my Maytag facts straight, after all, it’s probably a subject I should be versed in.

Recently, on two assignments, I learned the Maytags had great influence on more than initially suggested throughout my childhood, for instance, Fritz was a visionary and lobbyist for the creation of Rock Creek State Park and founder of the Jasper County Gun Club.

Oh, Curious George, I wanted to know more.

The name had been popping up again everywhere and as fate would have it, last week John McNeer brought in a Life Magazine from December 1949, in it a nine-page feature on Fred was published titled, “Mr. Maytag: The Big Man of Newton Faces up to his Responsibilities.”

Jack of all trades 

The Maytag men were problem solvers, both in the plant and in the office. It seems as if Maytags had a wide range of interests, talents and capabilities.

Fred was a businessman, engineer, a state senator, even a pilot. He flew his own plane and was known for flying around the house to let his wife know it was time to pick him up.

He was a scholar, rower, hunter and award-winning photographer as well as a member of the Rotary Club, Gun Club, Chamber of Commence, Boy Scouts, Iowa Development Commission and a Grinnell College trustee, to name a few.

“At home, as abroad, Fred Maytag invariably manages to excel at whatever he does,” Life said.

Strive for normalcy

Fred was a devoted husband to wife Ellen and father of four who managed to make time for them even with his demanding career. He raised his sons to be caring, humble and accountable, making them sign promissory interest notes for a 15 cent loan.

“I want them to grow up normally, like any kids, in spite of the economic security they enjoy. But the trouble is, they think they are normal, but the other kids do not,” he said in Life.

He shopped for his own groceries, and ate lunch with factory or railroad workers in a lunch room. For a millionaire in the 40s, he was approachable. Plant workers came to him with request, concerns and problems. The article said, “Everyone in Newton calls him Fred; his easy manner invites familiarity.”

He once got a parking ticket and the officer refused to fine him because of his status. Fred told the officer no, he would pay the ticket because he deserved it.

Even the family custom for the inheritance was to start from the bottom up, at the assembly line, so the boys would gain a sense of product, understanding and appreciation.

A man of the people

If there is one common thread in stories of Fred it’s that he had a genuine interest in the employee satisfaction and the public.

The Life article said Maytag understood his inherited privilege came with not only financial responsibilities but social responsibilities as well, to give generously and with nobility toward those less privileged.

He built the $5 million plant within city limits so that it could pay its fair share of taxes. “We must deal with the workers on a basis compatible with human dignity,” he said.

Big fish in a small pond 

Fred was the last Maytag to serve as president and chairman of the company. Like those who came before, he was simply a big fish in a small pond. His interest exceeded his hometown of Newton, his character too tenacious and ambitions large. Fred died at age 51.

All that’s left now are fleeting memories of a thoughtful and composed man and a town full of old, faded dependable Maytag washer and dryers.

I’ve made one of my next assignments about the dairy farms, and I hope to run into Fred’s successful son Fritz.

Rumor has it he and his brother Kenneth return to Newton each year for the Maytag Dairy Farm annual executive board meeting. Now, that would make for a rare feature.