This interview reflects a pivotal moment in mid-century American manufacturing, when long-established companies like Heywood-Wakefield were navigating profound structural change. In the years after World War II, furniture makers across the country faced rising labor costs, regional shifts toward non-union production in the South, changing consumer expectations, and the increasing pressure of national competition. Through George and John Heywood’s recollections, this narrative offers an insider’s view of how one legacy company balanced quality, scale, labor relations, and survival during a period when many historic manufacturers were forced to reinvent themselves or disappear altogether.

Looking back on the furniture industry of the 1950s, George and John Heywood were clear-eyed about the forces reshaping American manufacturing. One of the most significant was the uneven landscape of unionization. Only a very small percentage of Heywood-Wakefield’s competitors were unionized, and those that were tended to be concentrated in New England. The company’s real competition, they noted, was increasingly in the South—particularly North Carolina, Virginia, and Tennessee—where furniture plants were almost entirely non-union. Those southern operations, then and now, did not experience the production interruptions that came with organized labor, giving them a structural advantage in cost and continuity.

In terms of quality, however, the Heywoods placed their company firmly at the top of the market during the postwar years. While many southern manufacturers relied heavily on veneers mixed with solid wood, Heywood-Wakefield furniture was produced entirely from solid stock. Pricewise, the company occupied an upper-middle bracket—not the most expensive, but clearly positioned above mass-market offerings. Within the trade, Heywood-Wakefield enjoyed a strong reputation, reinforced by consistent national advertising.

By size, the company was modest compared to industry giants like Bassett, Lane, and Drexel. Out of an estimated four thousand furniture manufacturers nationwide, the Heywoods guessed they ranked somewhere around fiftieth to seventieth in volume. Yet despite its relatively small scale, Heywood-Wakefield’s name recognition among consumers far exceeded that of many larger competitors. Decades of national advertising—extending back even before World War I—had placed the brand not only in trade publications but in mainstream consumer magazines such as House Beautiful and Better Homes and Gardens. By the mid-1950s, the company ranked among the top advertisers in the industry.

From a historical perspective, George Heywood described the firm as the oldest furniture manufacturer in the region, part of a lineage that stretched back to Gardner’s early industrial days. That long history, however, came with its own challenges. Production disruptions—especially during strikes—created lasting damage to dealer relationships. Retailers who had replaced Heywood-Wakefield floor space with other lines during periods of unreliable shipping were reluctant to give it back, even after operations resumed. Long delivery delays—sometimes stretching to twenty weeks—made it nearly impossible to regain lost ground. Dealers, once burned, preferred lines that could guarantee steady turnover.

Rumors circulated over the years that the opening of the Tennessee plant was meant to punish the Gardner workforce, but John Heywood dismissed this outright. The decision, he explained, was driven by practical necessity. School furniture production had outgrown Gardner’s available space and required costly handling, with frames welded in one location and seats assembled in another. Tennessee offered a clean slate: a purpose-built facility designed to do one thing well. Moving school furniture production there reduced handling costs and allowed the company to cut prices by about ten percent, transforming an unprofitable segment into its most profitable operation.

The success of the Newport, Tennessee plant became critical to the company’s survival. At times, Gardner’s losses nearly offset profits from Menominee, Michigan, leaving Newport as the primary contributor to net corporate earnings. John Heywood remarked that he sometimes told union leaders they should be grateful for the Tennessee operation, as it kept the entire company afloat.

Still, tensions remained. The union viewed the southern plant as a threat to job security in Gardner, while management struggled to stabilize the Massachusetts operation. Efforts were made to rebuild profitability by expanding household wood furniture production and cutting costs, including reductions in advertising—decisions that helped in the short term but carried long-term consequences for brand visibility.

Another difficult but necessary move was the closure of the metalworking division. Once a major supplier of railroad and bus seating—accounting for the majority of railroad seats in the United States and all of Canada—the division faced a shrinking market. Passenger rail declined, bus seating designs changed dramatically, and dependence on demanding customers like General Motors made the business increasingly risky. Despite its historic importance, the division no longer made economic sense and was eventually shut down.

Throughout the interview, the Heywoods spoke not with nostalgia, but with pragmatism. They recognized that industries change, markets disappear, and even well-known brands must adapt or contract. Yet they also took pride in Heywood-Wakefield’s legacy—its quality, its innovation, and its role in shaping American furniture design. That legacy was underscored by the company’s presence at landmark exhibitions, including the Chicago World’s Fair in 1933 and the New York World’s Fair in 1964, moments when Heywood-Wakefield presented itself not just as a manufacturer, but as a representative of modern American living.

Source: Heywood Oral History Interview 1989 by Martha Norkunas, retrieved from http://archive.org