A safety sign introduced in the late 1950's to help keep our employees safety conscience. The face has a glowing neon smile unless there has been an accident, in which case it changes to a sad neon frown.
Bruce Bigford, left, was the past president of the French Paper Company. Some of his famous lines include, "You're leaning on a bent reed," and "I don't care if I do die, do die." Shown here trading fashion secrets with Jerry.
"Big Ed" French, the Chairman of French Paper, started working here in 1940. An eco-pioneer, Ed proved to all that FPC's discharged water was clean by drinking a full glass each day from a crusty tin cup.
The mighty St. Joseph, whose water flows over this hydroelectric dam, generates all of the electrical needs for the French mill (and then some). Normally you can see trophy steel head and salmon jumping at the face of the dam, or simply climbing up the fish latter.
This sign reminds employees that they are not allowed to change propane tanks in the building. Worker safety has always been a high concern for FPC. In fact, the mill has only blown up 3 times so far this year.
The control panel in the beater room has the ability to control all of the beaters at the push of a button. It also has been known to interfere with pacemakers and low-flying aircraft navigational systems.
This valve controls the secret sauce that enables us to make such unique papers. Ever since J. W. French purchased this special valve from a traveling salesman in the 1890's, it has been guarded day and night by armed personnel.
This is the beater room as you approach from the warehouse. We've never had an employee fall into the beater. If we did, we'd have a lawsuit and a new line of paper on our hands-French Fleshtone.
This is a load of recycled fiber waiting to be fed to the beater. The propeller-like blades covered with razory knives will turn 70,000 lbs. of fiber to pulp in seconds. Needless to say, swimming in the beater is not recommended.
This quality worker is making sure that the beater is doing its job. You can tell by his steel-toed boots that he has worked in this department for some time. (Hopefully he leaves these boots at work, or his wife might kill him.)
This is a rewinder from the late 1960's. We used it for rewinding both paper rolls that didn't meet our high quality standards and old reel-to-reel George Jones recordings. (Note the machine's happy face.)
A machine used to measure the caliper of finished products, verifying that the caliper you request is the caliper you get. Not to be confused with "caliber," as in the firearms the workers carry in their trucks' gun racks.
The modern mainframe computer control panel for the calender stack, which puts the finish on the sheet. The panel, the stack, and the employees smoke when Butcher is manufactured, due to the high pressure required for its galvanized finish.
This is a machine that tests ink penetration on the surface of the sheet. With so many controls and switches, it is more difficult to operate than the space shuttle. In fact, we suspect that it came from outer space.
This early 1930's photo shows several motors used to drive the heart of the paper machine. Not visible in this shot but powering these motors was a strong man, a chimp, and a small boy, harnessed into yokes and walking slowly in circles.
This machine, known since the late 1800's as "Pinch-Point Pete," has framework embellished with art nouveau floral ornamentation-an attempt to bring nature into factories during the industrial revolution.
This photo is of the paper passing through two rolls on the calender stack, where we are putting on the finish of the sheet to the designers' liking. It could also finish careers for those workers who have careless limbs.
The "dandy roll," which is used for watermarking. The enormous rolling cylinder makes a real impression on the delicate wet paper passing below. Upon first sight, J. W. French exclaimed, "Isn't that just a dandy roll!" . . . and the name stuck.
The individual seen here walking in front of the press section is not actually human. He is the ghost that watches over the mill to make sure quality control is maintained at the highest standard.
This is the area between the starch section and the after-dryers. The gentleman in the FPC uniform is checking the tension shortly after re-threading the machine; and if he's lucky, he'll step out of there with all limbs still attached.
Wet end paper cutter (a.k.a. "the squirt"), whose fine stream of water is sharp enough to cut the edge of the paper, trimming the sheet before the press section. "The squirt" is over 90 years old and still going strong.
This 1900's embosser crushes a pattern into the surface of the sheet. It was used to manufacture French Linen before we realized that designers thought Linen was the tackiest paper ever invented . . . maybe so bad it's good?
Here we see two former employees discussing last night's bowling scores. A robotic high-speed precision sheeter replaced their jobs in the 1980's. Now the robots stand around and discuss their bowling scores.
This is a picture taken from our finishing department, where we store full cartons before they are put into the warehouse. Surely, the quality control ghost paces restlessly somewhere within this photo.
