Friday, June 5, 1998

Pro-Tuff: Werner Works, Inc. "Professional Gear Made Tuff": Interview with Made To Measure Magazine


In 1976, 35-year-old Ken Werner (1998’s newly elected president of NAUMD) wasn’t sure his health would see him to the next year: He figured he’d better pow-wow with wife, Carolyn, and decide how she and their 3 teen-aged children would survive. In the quiet town of Roseburg, Oregon, this lumber mill employee and restaurant owner’s daughter started a little side business in their garage, making backpacks for the neighborhood kids: “Pack Tracks.”

In a valley nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the Rockies, during the blossoming of wandering “flower children” and the re-emergence of outdoor sports, no manufacturing choice could have been wiser.  Carolyn, clearly the matriarch of business and family, recalls Ken bending tubing and cutting goods, with help from sons Kerry and K.C.; she and daughter Kristi designed and sewed the packs.  Popularity grew: The fellows at the mills, then the hippies passing through, wanted them.   Soon, it was craft fairs on Saturday’s. 

After 2 years of moonlighting, 40 year old Carolyn quit her bookkeeping job and went to work full-time making camping gear.  The 2 boys were finishing high school and off to college; only Kristi was at home to help her folks.  In 1978, the Werners rented a small storefront with a single machine in the back room.  First, they sold their backpacks, then bags for camping gear as cross-country skiers found them out.

When the ‘80’s recession took hold and big-box stores began to edge out “mom n’ pop’s,” Ken looked around for ways to increase his line and keep the little business bustling.  The family expanded into saddlebags and raincoats for the nearby farmers, but out of high-grade nylon (Cardura), instead of the heavier, more perishable traditional fabrics. 

 Eventually, they began to work with police and fire departments.  Ken, who Carolyn acknowledges as an absolute genius, had gone to a trade show in Chicago and made the connection between the newer nylons and the older, heavy rubberized coats which these men had been wearing.  Ken affirmed, “You never know when an idea is gonna hit you.  You always have to be lookin’ around.”  He contracted the San Francisco Police Department and they were on their way.  In 1983, moving from one building to another, expanding to 6 machines and then 15, Pro-Tuff was established.

The Werners continued to make and sell their backpack and gear bags lines; they have never been without a storefront to represent their products.  But by 1986, their law enforcement business had grown so tremendously that the camping bags had evolved into Emergency Medical Tech bags, and what was once a retail camping-gear business became a booming corporation in the uniform industry, producing raincoats, 13-pocket utility pants and jumpsuits.

“We didn’t realize how labor-intensive these things were,” reflects Carolyn.  “We just knew it was what our customers needed.  We changed the pocket configuration, and became known as ‘the pocket people.’”

From 1989-1995, Pro-Tuff continued to grow under Ken’s creative insights and Carolyn’s watchful business eye.  Kerri had gone on to engineering; K.C. had moved to Eugene, opened his own advertising business, and was handling the Pro-Tuff account.  At 29, he and wife Beth made the decision to return to Roseburg, devoting themselves solely to the family business.  Ken made it clear that Pro-Tuff was a business in itself.

Kristi, the silent and perhaps most intriguing partner in the Werner family, is a superb designer and craftswoman.  She is also the purchasing agent, manages an excellent OCEA record, is committed to the welfare of her fellow beings.  At 30, she decided making uniform apparel wasn’t enough (in addition to her husband and 3 children) so she initiated the now state-sponsored program “U-Can” where committed town businesses rotate monthly responsibilities of food drives for the disadvantaged.  Proudly, Carolyn notes that philanthropy is no stranger at Werner Works.  “People need to know who we are and who they work for.  We feel it’s important to be friends to the city.  They, in turn, are friends and contribute to our progress and success as a company.”

In the summer of 1995, Ken got a bee in his bonnet.  Roseburg had literally run out of people to employ.  The factory was huge, and in a rural northwest Oregon town (pop.19,000), there weren’t that many folks who had the necessary skills to sew.  He decided he and Carolyn would double their facilities and move the other half to Kentucky where the labor-pool was unlimited.  “You can’t hold back,” Carolyn insists.  “You constantly have to expand.”

K.C., now in charge of the company’s public relations and the one with “a far-out creative mind,” produced a consumer-oriented catalogue, even though the company works through its distributors.  Changing its corporate marketing strategies, Pro-Tuff now goes directly to the end-user, finds out what is needed, then returns the account to the local distributor.  K.C. feels, “By getting consumer input before we make the garment, we can assure 100% satisfaction and usability.”

“Whenever we have a customer who requires a custom fabric, we ask the mills to find it or invent it,” Carolyn interjects.  One such Pro-Tuff fabric is Comfort Twill—Dockers’-feel goods with strength of heavy-duty fibers.

 Ken is no-nonsense and sticks to business, whereas Carolyn is more introspective and reflective.   While he and K.C. tend to focus on the trends and products which the business produces, Carolyn is open about discussing the dynamics and challenges of running a family-owned business.  She is candid about the need for division of responsibilities, how family-owned businesses easily can result in family–destroyed businesses.  “It took a good 10 years to figure out what each of us does.  Now, K.C. and Kristi handle the Roseburg plant while Ken and I travel to Kentucky several times a year.  In addition, Kristi and I are responsible for anything inside the plants; Ken and K.C. are the outside people—they are responsible for everyone and everything on the other side of the front door.  It has to be divided up, or we’d drive each other crazy.”

Nearing 60, Carolyn is content with the process of aging.  Always a workaholic, she intends to continue until her last grandchild is grown.  She dotes on her English country farmhouse, surrounded by gardens and filled with country French antiques.  Her future includes mentoring others in family-owned businesses—guiding, advising, supporting.  “Family will always be more important than business.  If you don’t look after your family, who will?” she smiles.  “But the truth is, you have to work to make sure the family eats!  When the 2 are inter-twined, it takes time and effort to keep them separate.”

K.C. agrees.  “Sometimes, at Thanksgiving, one of the kids will stand up and yell at us to stop talking about business so we can talk about ‘fun stuff.’”

Ken reiterates, “It’s great when the grandkids run into my office and play with the things on my desk, but it’s difficult when the younger folks come up with new ideas which mustn’t be stomped on.”

Now a huge cross-continent concern, Pro-Tuff is a leader in its own area and in the uniform industry.  Its innovations, keenly developed and marketed by Ken and K.C, with scrupulous plant and management implementations from Carolyn and Kristi, allow each member of the family to project Werner Works, Inc.’s growth and continuation for many years to come.

In 1976, 35-year-old Ken Werner (1998’s newly elected president of NAUMD) wasn’t sure his health would see him to the next year: He figured he’d better pow-wow with wife, Carolyn, and decide how she and their 3 teen-aged children would survive.  In the quiet town of Roseburg, Oregon, this lumber mill employee and restaurant owner’s daughter started a little side business in their garage, making backpacks for the neighborhood kids: “Pack Tracks.”

In a valley nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the Rockies, during the blossoming of wandering “flower children” and the re-emergence of outdoor sports, no manufacturing choice could have been wiser.  Carolyn, clearly the matriarch of business and family, recalls Ken bending tubing and cutting goods, with help from sons Kerry and K.C.; she and daughter Kristi designed and sewed the packs.  Popularity grew: The fellows at the mills, then the hippies passing through, wanted them.   Soon, it was craft fairs on Saturdays. 

After 2 years of moonlighting, 40 year old Carolyn quit her bookkeeping job and went to work full-time making camping gear.  The 2 boys were finishing high school and off to college; only Kristi was at home to help her folks.  In 1978, the Werners rented a small storefront with a single machine in the back room.  First, they sold their backpacks, then bags for camping gear as cross-country skiers found them out.

When the ‘80’s recession took hold and big-box stores began to edge out “mom n’ pop’s,” Ken looked around for ways to increase his line and keep the little business bustling.  The family expanded into saddlebags and raincoats for the nearby farmers, but out of high-grade nylon (Cardura), instead of the heavier, more perishable traditional fabrics. 

 Eventually, they began to work with police and fire departments.  Ken, who Carolyn acknowledges as an absolute genius, had gone to a trade show in Chicago and made the connection between the newer nylons and the older, heavy rubberized coats which these men had been wearing.  Ken affirmed, “You never know when an idea is gonna hit you.  You always have to be lookin’ around.”  He contracted the San Francisco Police Department and they were on their way.  In 1983, moving from one building to another, expanding to 6 machines and then 15, Pro-Tuff was established.

The Werner’s continued to make and sell their backpack and gear bags lines; they have never been without a storefront to represent their products.  But by 1986, their law enforcement business had grown so tremendously that the camping bags had evolved into Emergency Medical Tech bags, and what was once a retail camping-gear business became a booming corporation in the uniform industry, producing raincoats, 13-pocket utility pants and jumpsuits.

“We didn’t realize how labor-intensive these things were,” reflects Carolyn.  “We just knew it was what our customers needed.  We changed the pocket configuration, and became known as ‘the pocket people.’”

From 1989-1995, Pro-Tuff continued to grow under Ken’s creative insights and Carolyn’s watchful business eye.  Kerri had gone on to engineering; K.C. had moved to Eugene, opened his own advertising business, and was handling the Pro-Tuff account.  At 29, he and wife Beth made the decision to return to Roseburg, devoting themselves solely to the family business.  Ken made it clear that Pro-Tuff was a business in itself.

Kristi, the silent and perhaps most intriguing partner in the Werner family, is a superb designer and craftswoman.  She is also the purchasing agent, manages an excellent OCEA record, is committed to the welfare of her fellow beings.  At 30, she decided making uniform apparel wasn’t enough (in addition to her husband and 3 children) so she initiated the now state-sponsored program “U-Can” where committed town businesses rotate monthly responsibilities of food drives for the disadvantaged.  Proudly, Carolyn notes that philanthropy is no stranger at Werner Works.  “People need to know who we are and who they work for.  We feel it’s important to be friends to the city.  They, in turn, are friends and contribute to our progress and success as a company.”

In the summer of 1995, Ken got a bee in his bonnet.  Roseburg had literally run out of people to employ.  The factory was huge, and in a rural northwest Oregon town (pop.19,000), there weren’t that many folks who had the necessary skills to sew.  He decided he and Carolyn would double their facilities and move the other half to Kentucky where the labor-pool was unlimited.  “You can’t hold back,” Carolyn insists.  “You constantly have to expand.”

K.C., now in charge of the company’s public relations and the one with “a far-out creative mind,” produced a consumer-oriented catalogue, even though the company works through its distributors.  Changing its corporate marketing strategies, Pro-Tuff now goes directly to the end-user, finds out what is needed, then returns the account to the local distributor.  K.C. feels, “By getting consumer input before we make the garment, we can assure 100% satisfaction and usability.”

“Whenever we have a customer who requires a custom fabric, we ask the mills to find it or invent it,” Carolyn interjects.  One such Pro-Tuff fabric is Comfort Twill—Dockers’-feel goods with strength of heavy-duty fibers.

 Ken is no-nonsense and sticks to business, whereas Carolyn is more introspective and reflective.   While he and K.C. tend to focus on the trends and products which the business produces, Carolyn is open about discussing the dynamics and challenges of running a family-owned business.  She is candid about the need for division of responsibilities, how family-owned businesses easily can result in family–destroyed businesses.  “It took a good 10 years to figure out what each of us does.  Now, K.C. and Kristi handle the Roseburg plant while Ken and I travel to Kentucky several times a year.  In addition, Kristi and I are responsible for anything inside the plants; Ken and K.C. are the outside people—they are responsible for everyone and everything on the other side of the front door.  It has to be divided up, or we’d drive each other crazy.”

Nearing 60, Carolyn is content with the process of aging.  Always a workaholic, she intends to continue until her last grandchild is grown.  She dotes on her English country farmhouse, surrounded by gardens and filled with country French antiques.  Her future includes mentoring others in family-owned businesses—guiding, advising, supporting.  “Family will always be more important than business.  If you don’t look after your family, who will?” she smiles.  “But the truth is, you have to work to make sure the family eats!  When the 2 are inter-twined, it takes time and effort to keep them separate.”

K.C. agrees.  “Sometimes, at Thanksgiving, one of the kids will stand up and yell at us to stop talking about business so we can talk about ‘fun stuff.’”

Ken reiterates, “It’s great when the grandkids run into my office and play with the things on my desk, but it’s difficult when the younger folks come up with new ideas which mustn’t be stomped on.”

Now a huge cross-continent concern, Pro-Tuff is a leader in its own area and in the uniform industry.  Its innovations, keenly developed and marketed by Ken and K.C, with scrupulous plant and management implementations from Carolyn and Kristi, allow each member of the family to project Werner Works, Inc.’s growth and continuation for many years to come.

Wednesday, June 3, 1998

Executive Apparel: Interview with Made to Measure Magazine

The Singer family has been in the clothing business for generations.    When Grandfather Singer and his 3 sons emigrated to Philadelphia in the ‘30’s, he began in the leather coat business which provided for the Philadelphia Police Department.  Two of his sons went their ways for other garment manufacturers, but Richard Singer continued with Grandfather’s Singer Mfg. Co., becoming a contractor for outerwear and adding a line of boys’ suits.  Rick Singer loved his work and loved his job.  He exuded an excitement and commitment which his 2 older boys, Rob and Don, inherited, and they eventually joined him for a successful run in the retail apparel business.  Rob and Don added men’s wear to their lines, and in the early ‘80’s were also manufacturing for women who had rejoined the job market. 

By 1985, their dad had taught the 2 brothers all he could and retired; imported retail clothing was becoming a huge market, putting a tight squeeze on American retail contractors—Philadelphia’s garment district had shrunk to less than half its original size.  Rob and Don knew they had choices to make.  Firm believers in science fiction, they conceptualized clothing for the future.  It came to them that most galactics wore uniforms on their starships.  So they decided to enter the uniform business.  Because of their backgrounds in men’s and women’s suiting, the switch to corporate uniform apparel was only logical.  And futuristic…

Don had a degree in finance and Rob had graduated from the Philadelphia College of Textiles.  The family had always been in the contracting business, manufacturing for others.  With a lot of guts and a lot to learn about inventory, business management, purchasing of raw goods, acquiring of distributors, and advertising, they began Executive Apparel in 1986.  “We made up our minds, walked before we ran, and decided we would commit to this business for the long run. We wouldn’t have 1 foot in the door and 1 foot out the door, “ stated Rob.

They kept the contracting end of the business while they began a stock program for uniform apparel.  They learned from their competition regarding colors and styles, but they made their own way, carving their unique niche.  One of their strengths is special sizing, in addition to standard stock sizing.  “One of the hardest things about this business is getting everything to be sized correctly,” recalls Rob.  “It wasn’t easy in the beginning and we made mistakes.  But we did whatever it took and we got it right.  Fashion is now a major part of our company.  In fact customized garments for our clients is 25% of our current business.”

When Singer was in business, the building was in a loft.  Now, using approximately the same square footage, Executive has moved to a ground-floor building where the goods comes in at one end, and goes out a finished product at the other.  Probably the single most determining factor in the success of Executive Apparel is the tight and well-thought-out organization.  As Rob discusses his thoughts and projections about the corporation, nothing is left to chance or “maybe’s.”  If an item or a philosophy doesn’t work, it’s changed so that it will.  “Don is very cautious,” he volunteers.  “I’m a little less cautious.  I’m the more flexible one.”

Originally, Don and Rob had divided their responsibilities by what they knew—Rob oversaw manufacturing; Don took care of finances and business management.  What they found is that they both had strengths in several areas, but their outlooks were so diverse that they needed to take on their roles not by job description but by focus.  Don now handles the repetitive, which demands consistency and stability—doing things dependably the same way every day.  He makes sure the operation runs smoothly at every level.  Rob, on the other hand, is the “visionary,” the creator with the new ideas.  If Rob comes up with a new product, new equipment, a new management concept, it’s Don’s responsibility and challenge to implement it.  The 2 complement each other.

Both men are married, live within 5 minutes of each other, and close to their other family members.  Rob and Wendy have grown twin boys and a daughter; Don and Arlene have 2 daughters.  Even though Philadelphia is a large city, there is a small-town family dedication to one another, which is very special and very close.

They are exceedingly bright.  Rob at age 50 is already planning for the day when he will retire, and has become a professional photographer on the side.  His works of children, and still life for artisans’ portfolios have acquired recognition.  Don, 47, is a professional musician and has his own band.  During the ‘60’ & ‘70’s, he had a rock group—he still plays a lot of the same music; the guys just dress a little differently—instead of headbands and jeans, they wear button-down collars and ties. 

Rob, the spokesman for the 2, reflects how he and Don have changed.  “We’ve always been self-employed, and we’ve never known what it’s like to work for others.  Initially, we were very controlling.  Now, we realize the importance of working together as a team—not only the 2 of us, but with our supervisors, as well.  Thursday morning team meetings have given us insight and respect for what it’s like to be an employee.  One thing I’ve learned is that money isn’t what creates a satisfied, productive employee.  Sure, profit sharing is important; it’s important to educate our employees all the way down the line--the process of how a dollar is earned; but the real selling point for employee loyalty is the team.  It’s a feeling of being a part of, instead of apart from.” 

Rob reflects on one of the most concerning issues for himself and for the business: “We feel it’s very important to maintain a manufacturer-distributor relationship.  When we were contractors, we saw that process break down.  Manufacturers began going directly to the end-user, and it undermined business loyalties.  There has to be loyalty in business, in life.  Loyalty is the key factor to success, whether in marriage and families, or in business relationships.  Often, it’s only ‘me, me, me.’” As he has gotten older, he admits that he and Don have grown more dependent on others for input.

Punctuating his more thoughtful comments with energetic ideas, he remarks about efficiency.  “We try to ship an order within an hour after placement,” he exudes.  “We keep our backorders to a 2 week maximum; we have a 94-96% satisfaction rate; we continually try to get better and faster.”  He refers to Executive as a “sleeping tiger.”  “We have a superior management group,” Rob enforces.  “There’s a tremendous infra-structure, we do a lot of things right, have a good strong sales force.  The more things come together, the stronger we get.”

Robert and Donald Singer, following their dad’s tradition, exude the same love and excitement for their business.  Executive Apparel is growing and changing while maintaining a steady spot in the uniform marketplace.  The eclectic pragmatism, which is based on sound technical knowledge and background, is leading these 2 entrepreneurs to the forefront of the uniform apparel trade.