It was my belief that Lancaster had an important story to tell. Telling it would have been impossible without the generous cooperation of its people, its officials, and its various agencies, both governmental and charitable. Lancaster allowed me into its life with much more generosity and openness than even I had expected. I thank all those people whose names appear in this book, and those many whose names do not.
Key logistical and/or research assistance was provided by the board of the West After School Program, Lancaster police chief Don McDaniel and officer Ray Hambel, court reporter Janice Fry, the staff of the Fairfield County Board of Elections, the staff of the Fairfield County District Library, the Fairfield County District Attorney’s office, Stuart Stevens, James Linehan, Eleanor Hood, Milton Taylor, John McGraw, John and Mary Snider, the Barrows family, Lisa and Evan Murphy, and Doug Barber.
Photographer Shelley Metcalf shot the image of Plant 1. Amanda Allen created the map of Lancaster. Thanks to both for putting up with me.
The important role played by local newspapers is illustrated by the number of Eagle, Gazette, and Eagle-Gazette stories referenced herein, from 1900 to the present. Please support your local paper.
My buddy Smokey was a most welcoming landlord, efficient taxi service, television and fast food concierge, and a font of information. There are not enough chicken wings in the world to compensate.
Sam Solomon admitted me into the company he was trying to save, and willingly revealed himself in the process. He answered every question I asked without obfuscation. Because he did, he provided a rare peek into the workings of a troubled company. This book would not have been possible without him. I am convinced Anchor Hocking would have folded long ago without the presence of Janet Rayburn. I thank all the executives and workers of Anchor Hocking, past and present, including my friendly nemesis, Erika Schoenberger.
Thanks also to the many bartenders of Lancaster.
Rosemary Batt of Cornell University, Mike McMahon, Victor Fleischer of the University of San Diego School of Law, Denny Garvis of Washington and Lee University, and Debra Riley—experts in the fields of private equity, banking, investment tax law, business journalism, and bankruptcy law, respectively—provided valuable insights, tips, and welcome critiques. Suzy Spencer, who read and critiqued drafts of early chapters, helped set a course.
Serendipity led me to my fellow former Lancastrian Beth (Taylor) Urban, who patiently transcribed many hours of interviews for paltry wages and kept my secrets. Susan Heard’s attention to textual detail—also at paltry wages—made me look like a better grammarian than I am. Alex Heard provided early, and continued, encouragement. Nicole Payne combed through the text, seeking out factual errors and confusions—again, for paltry wages. (I am an exploitive employer.) All errors are mine, of course.
Elisabeth Dyssegaard of St. Martin’s is the bravest book editor I’ve ever encountered: She bought a book having no idea how events would unfold. I’m grateful for her faith, and for the continued faith of Michelle Tessler. Laura Apperson of St. Martin’s helped keep the work flowing despite my frustrations. Copyeditor Will Palmer and legal advisor Henry Kaufman kept me out of trouble.
During the course of reporting and writing this book, my mother, Agnes “Bobby” Alexander, and then my brother, Bruce Alexander, also a writer, died. They both helped instill in me a belief that stories are among the most valuable artifacts a society can produce.
One day, early in my Lancaster sojourn, while I sat in the bar of the old hotel, a man named Andy Ogilvie, whose father would have been, and should have been, the CEO of Anchor Hocking had he not died at too early an age, and whom I had not seen in at least thirty-five years, and barely knew when I grew up there, walked into the room, looked at me for a moment and said, “That’s gotta be an Alexander.” I was proud to say yes, and grateful to be from Lancaster.