CHAPTER ONE • Page 17
It is the Spring of 1944.
While the abysmal convulsion of World War II is rocking every segment of this belabored old planet of ours, maiming and distressing the whole civilized human race…while the titanic struggle for the preservation of freedom and decency against the dark forces of international deceit and domination is fast approaching its most critical hour…I am pondering the wondering, in the close retreat of my office on the twelfth floor of 654 Madison Avenue.
War restrictions have suspended my usual activities for nearly three years and at times I am overtaken by a sense of nostalgia and loneliness.
I seldom see or hear from my business or social friends. They are all beset by anxieties of one sort or another.
Our two sons, Joseph and Jon, who would have assumed by now the direction of our affairs, are in East Hampton, Massachusetts, feverishly engaged in war endeavor which is outside of my own experience. I am astonished at their initiative, courage and tenacity.
Joe is 33 and John 30, but they look much younger. At their age I had the same youthful appearance.
Joe and John, both Princeton graduates, are fine, sound-principled young men, modest, earnest and considerate of everyone.
Although brought up with the proverbial silver spoon, Joe and John have rolled up their sleeves and proven their mettle. Much more credit is due to those who start from comfortable beginnings and forge ahead on their own merits than to those who have to, as I did, “make virtue out of necessity.”
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During 1939-42, Joe and John pioneered in low cost houses, by building several hundreds of them in Stamford, Connecticut, where the living quarters for wage earners were appalling. They incurred the usual envy and opposition of small town people but by perseverance, integrity and hard work they overcame all obstacles and rendered a great service to that community.
Their start was far from the orthodox one of “following Dad’s footsteps.” I built some of the most luxurious residential building in New York but my sons made their debut in building and selling houses for less than four thousand dollars each, well planned and with modern conveniences.
Without my knowledge, they had worked for months making studies and researches in that field. When they finally informed me of their plans, I was amazed. Outwardly assuming a skeptical waiting attitude, I was ready right then and there to back up my sons to the fullest extent.
Restraining my feeling, I advised them to consult Gustave Fleischmann, late president of the Ninth Federal Savings and Loan Association, of which I have been a director for a number of years. Mr. Fleischmann, a man of wisdom and thoroughly acquainted with small house undertakings, was so aroused by the idea that he immediately arranged an interview between my sons and the officials of the F.H.A. in Hartford.
On the day of the conference, after a general outline of the plan had been submitted, Mr. Pickett, chief underwriter of the Connecticut office of the F.H.A., asked my sons how many houses they expected to build and sell. Joe said: “A few hundred.” Mr. Pickett chuckled and retorted: “Young man, if you will show me that you can sell ten of those houses in Stamford, I shall be glad to discuss the matter with you again.” The challenge was accepted.
A few evening later, a meeting of interested buyers was being held in a public hall in Stamford, with a large attendance. Joe and John explained their plans, using a small cardboard model of the proposed houses. Within a week contracts of sales were closed for thirty-eight houses.
With that eloquent proof, the F.H.A. gave its enthusiastic approval to my sons’ project and within less than three years more than three hundred dwellings had been completed and sold.
Page 19 (Advertising sheet)
CAMPAGNA SONS – Announcing – SINGLE DWELLINGS – $3,790 to $4,170
Better homes for those in lower income groups has been the subject of wide research and discussion in the last few years. It is reported that “70 per cent of American families earn less than $2,000 a year” and most of them are living in substandard quarters. Both Government and private initiative have been striving to aid in the solution of the problem, but progress has been slow, owing to high costs.
The Secretary of Labor recently said: “The present high cost of shelter must be reduced, for it is depriving millions of American families of the necessities of life. It is imperative that families in the lower income ranges not only have decent housing, but that they get it at a price which will leave enough to maintain the mental and physical health of the new generation.”
Our Contribution
After a great deal of thought and careful study, we are now making our first contribution by building in Fairfield County new homes for comfortable and wholesome living, at prices that will fit small incomes.
Sensible planning, quantity purchasing, efficient supervision of work, moderate compensation to all concerned, including ourselves, elimination of unnecessary expenses and waste, all these factors will enable us to accomplish our task.
Even among the wealthy and middle income groups the trend today is definitely toward simpler and less expensive homes. The houses we are building are simple but soundly constructed, in good taste and complete in every detail.
While houses selling elsewhere at much higher prices are usually on plots of four or five thousand feet, each of our houses will be on a plot of ground not less than seventy-five hundred square feet. The first purchasers have first choice of land sites.
Worth Much More
The general comment of experts is that the prices of these houses should be higher. We know that they are worth more and could be sold for more money but we will hold to our course as long as we are protected at present prices.
More than seventy houses have been sold from plans and building operation is in progress on two beautiful tracts of land. We have options on other properties and will proceed as rapidly as the demand warrants. Prospective buyers would be wise to act without delay.
Joseph A. Campagna, PRESIDENT
John J. Campagna, TREASURER
These houses later resold at thrice the original price.
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Steep hills, deep valleys, thick woodlands and enormous boulders had to be blasted out and leveled off to accommodate that number of houses. Miles and miles of roads, drainage, water-mains and other public utilities installed. An herculean job in all, performed by two youngsters, without previous training for such a task.
After Pearl Harbor, our Government called for the immediate construction of houses for war workers in critical areas, one of which was Hartford, Connecticut. On request from Washington, Joe and John started at once an extensive project in East Hartford, within close proximity of the United Aircraft Company, which was adding thousands of workers weekly, but was unable to hold them for lack of housing facilities.
In a little over a year Joe and John completed eight hundred houses, then representing the largest development in the East.
In the Spring of 1943 the emergency of war housing had been fully met throughout the country. Improved methods of production had also reduced the manpower requirement in all plants, large and small.
My sons had much valuable equipment and a large organization of loyal men whom they kept on the payroll for several months while things were lagging. They reached a point where it was a question of disbanding or trying to promote some other enterprise, of which there was no definite idea.
Joe started to shuttle back and forth to Washington in search of some war contracts within the limits of their facilities.
After much waiting and sweating, my sons were asked to bid on some landing barges. The plans and specifications were received on a Saturday afternoon. The following Sunday, my wife and I went to visit Joe at his house in West Hartford. We found him with John and two of their construction superintendents spread on the lawn, browsing over large sheets of blueprints.
I glanced over the plans and decided to keep my hands off, preferring to spend an afternoon of play and nonsense with our dearest, mischievous, brown-eyed grandson who bears my name [Anthony Campagna II 1939-].
At sunset, the studious crew went in and labored until the wee hours of the morning, when the basic estimate was finally completed.
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To doubly insure that nothing had been overlooked, a small scale model of the barge was painstakingly constructed with all its numerous parts.
Joe rushed back to Washington, taking with him the bid and the model. Exhibition of the model made a great hit with the Army officials and favorable consideration was given to my sons’ application for a contract.
Joe remained in Washington for two solid weeks, during a spell of tropical heat, while John was holding the post in Hartford. Finally, out of thirty or forty manufacturers competing for the order, only my sons and two other firms were selected.
It was another milestone and a daring step toward a new frontier.
With such a large undertaking and the rigid time limits imposed by the Army, Joe and John soon realized that the facilities which they had available would be totally inadequate and, without taking a second breath, set to organize a new plant. Within a few days, they had bought an old warehouse with railroad siding and ample surrounding land. The transformation from a storage space to a live, humming, manufacturing establishment was short of miraculous. Additions followed in quick succession, until a stage of efficiency was attained to the point where the deliveries of the barges were considerably ahead of the contract schedule.
That was the gratifying situation on January 22, 1944 when, in the early hours of that morning, from yet unknown causes, a fire broke out from end to end of the 800′ structure, reducing it to ashes within less than an hour from the time the first gusts of flame were noticed.
At nine A.M. I received a call from our attorney in Stamford, informing me of the first, without much detail. I telephoned the plant but the line was cut off; I telephone Joe at his home only to learn that he had left at 7 A.M. John was in New York with his wife, prepared to leave that afternoon for a couple of weeks vacation. Finally, Joe called and with a calm voice said that the destruction was complete, that only the foundation walls were standing up, but that he was starting at once to search for another plant and insisted that John go on his trip. He said that the insurance was not sufficient to cover the damage. Only the evening before he had given instructions to increase it, but it had been too late to reach the broker.
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January 22nd was my wife’s birthday. A surprise dinner party had been arranged with some of our relatives and friends. I decided not to upset the occasion and the dinner was held in all merriment. Very moderate in alcoholic beverages, I imbibed a few strong drinks to submerge my uneasiness.
On January 26th Joe was signing a contract for the purchase of a factory building in East Hampton, Mass., which had suitable floor area but no equipment whatever. The wires were kept hot in locating the needed machinery and the results were rather favorable. A valuable piece was discovered in an old shack in New Hampshire, buried in deep snow, and a crew with a dog sleigh was sent there to unearth it and bring it to Massachusetts. Inasmuch as a sufficient number of barges had been delivered to cover the period up to February 15th or 20th, it had been hoped that work could be resumed without default. The equipment was already pouring in the new plant when the Army, having been advised of the fire, cancelled the balance of the contract.
More headaches and more heart throbs!
But, despite the grave situation, Joe and John did not give up. The machinery is installed as fast as it comes in; the crew is kept busy on a number of chores; all preparation are made for full steam ahead.
Joe flies to Washington, to Cincinnati, to Atlanta, and back again without pause, until he is given the promise of a contract for some prefabricated hospital field units.
The East Hampton structure is three stories high. The first and second, each containing 30,000 square feet of net area, are planned for production, the third for possible expansion.
When Joe comes back with the blueprints of the proposed hospital barracks, all hands are turned to build a full unit 20 ft. x 50 ft., and a section of same 8 ft. x 20 ft. The Army Engineers sent to inspect them are so highly impressed that a contract for eight hundred fifty unity is awarded within a few days. Another great reward for my sons’ faith and unrelenting effort, which touched me very deeply.
Many problems meanwhile cropped up in organizing the plant for that sizable order. A large freight elevator must be installed in the center of the building, a new railroad siding provided, outside overhead crane to handle the lumber, conveyors, pain shop, and what-not. At the same…
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…time millions of feet of lumber and carloads of other materials must be purchased promptly in a very difficult market. Hurdles that would baffle veteran manufacturers – but not Joe and John.
Today that plant is one of the most productive and efficient of its kind. Three or four acres of adjoining land are always stacked up with lumber of all sizes, and their inside storage space is bulging with paint drums, nail kegs, hardware and material of every description.
In view of this exceptional performance, the United States Army has entrusted my sons with another large order of barracks, for which the competition was keen and countrywide.
What the financial results will be I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. You cannot start from scratch to equip empty floors and organize for immediate production, under a rigid military schedule, without waste and losses. The primary objective of usefulness in the war effort has been attained and it is being actively pursued. To have contributed to the common cause is in itself a high compensation.
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For the post-war period, Joe and John are thinking in terms of large-scale prefabricated houses, a much discussed coming industry. My earnest hope is that, when the war ends, they may return to New York to carry on the tradition of our family. They represent our third generation of builders. Whatever course they may choose, a brilliant future will be theirs, with all my blessings.
Now – I anticipate the reader’s inquiry as to whether this is my son’s biography or my own!
I have often said that my sons do all the work and I do all the bragging. I am proud of my sons’ achievements, which have kept my spirit buoyed up during a period of general stagnation and moral depression; but, above all, I am proud of their golden qualities of heart and mind. Their success is founded on strength of character, intelligence, hard hewing and unsparing sacrifices.
Joe is the optimistic, enterprising type, while John is more on the careful, realistic side. But, once a decision is reached, they go forward in complete unison. The brotherly tied, mutual respect and unselfishness existing between Joe and Jon have been deeply gratifying.
Next: Chapter 2
