Getting something for nothing is the ideal of a common type of social reformer. But he does not go about it in the right way. It is not possible long to continue to get something for nothing, but it is possible to get something from what was once considered nothing. That is at the root of our efforts to save timber. We are trying to use as little lumber as we can. We use less wood each year, in spite of our ever-growing production, but still we use a great deal of wood, so we try to get the utmost out of every tree we cut. We treat each tree as wood until nothing remains which is serviceable as wood, and then we treat what remains as a chemical compound to be broken down into other chemical compounds which we can use in our business.
We save, not only lumber, but also we save transport by the carriage of wood instead of wood mixed with water — green wood. More than that, we carry only finished wood — parts all ready to go into assembly. Instead of paying freight on waste, we keep the waste and earn money from it.
Our work began six years ago in a small way — which is always the way we start. Already we are saving nearly one hundred million feet of wood a year by the salvage of old lumber — we buy only four-tenths of one percent of the lumber used in our crates and packing. And in our forests and sawmills we have discovered that, instead of wasting at least half of the tree — which is usual — we need waste not a bit of the tree. Also we have discovered that lumbering need not be rough, ill-paid work. We have our minimum wage scale, and instead of lumberjacks, we have sober, self-respecting citizens working for us.
The tradition of lumbering is of waste — that is why wages are so low and the prices of lumber so high. The standing timber is cut ruthlessly and the brush is left to lie and invite forest fires. When the log finally gets to the sawmill, it is cut into commercial sizes of lumber regardless of the waste. There are two wastes here — the waste of the log and the waste of the finished lumber, for our commercial sizes are based, not on use, but on custom.
The whole lumbering industry lacks coordination. Why should one have to buy a ten-foot plank if only five feet are to be used? Why should not crating be done with the smallest instead of the largest amount of lumber, and above all, why cannot large users of lumber — whose needs are not large enough to justify going into the lumber business themselves — at least arrange with mills for special sizes instead of taking the commercial sizes? Why should a crate or a packing box once used be considered only as so much waste to be smashed and burned?
Saving timber is as much a matter for the shop as for the forest. We are now using much less lumber in our cars than we did before. We have shifted to steel whenever and wherever possible, just to save wood. The supply of steel is inexhaustible, while at the present rate of consumption the country’s wood will hardly last beyond fifty years. Our own supply will easily last us a hundred years in the manner we are using it.
Not so many years ago, we looked at wood simply as wood, but, abhorring waste, we soon began digging in to find out what we were doing with wood. We had made arrangements for burning the sawdust and scraps from our wood-working department as fuel, and on the surface it seemed as though we were getting the utmost out of what was considered waste, and that, as usual, brought us to asking the question: “Why should there be so much waste to dispose of?”
Answering that question has taken us into the salvage of all the wood that comes into our plant in crates and boxes, it has taken us into the buying of large tracts of forest land, into logging, into sawmills, into wood distillation, and finally into removing all our wood-working departments from Detroit to the forests in order to save transportation.
First take the salvage of wood at the plant. Only six years ago, we used around six hundred different size boxes and crates for shipping. We studied the shipments and the boxes, and today, instead of six hundred sizes, we have fourteen sizes, for each of which a standard method of packing has been devised. We are cutting farther into wood by using wherever possible burlap bags and cardboard boxes — the latter made from waste and in our own paper mill. We now need, under this simplified plan and because of the burlap and cardboard, only about one-third as much wood as when our daily production was one-half of what it is today.
We have a positive rule in every factory and branch that each crate and box must be opened carefully without breaking the wood. Crowbars are not permitted, and at any point where the incoming freight is heavy, we have a kind of hoist which clutches and pulls the top off a box without damaging the wood. All scrap wood eventually gets back to the wood salvage department at Highland Park — even old box cars from the railroad, rotted logs, and piling must go to this department which has developed a rather interesting salvage technique.
The lumber arrives in all shapes and sizes and mostly studded with nails and spikes. It is sorted into heavy lumber and light lumber. Heavy stuff — one to two inches and over — is placed on the south conveyor; the lighter stuff — one-half to an inch — goes to the conveyor on the north.
Just inside the swinging doors of the south conveyor entrance stands an ordinary punch press, mounted, however, with tool-steel cutters which meet at an angle of forty-five degrees. Heavy planks and boards which contain crooked nails are removed from the conveyor at this point, and turned over to the operator. To hammer those nails straight would take time. Unless they are made straight, they will not come out. Unless they are pulled out, a sizable portion of the lumber is fit only for the furnace. The operator feeds the boards to the press, which bites the nails off sharply close to the board. A claw-hammer or gooseneck bar does the rest, and the entire board — barring serious flaws — is saved for sawing, resawing, and planing to box size.
A smaller press does the same for the lighter boards that enter on the north conveyor. Much of the lighter stuff needs no further treatment, and is simply sent on to where the boxes are being constructed; for the close-clipped nails will not in the least interfere with its use. Where it is desirable to have the nails completely removed, we have a simple device. This is a hook-shaped band of tool steel, five inches wide and a quarter inch thick, bolted through the shank to the surface of a table, with the hook end curling upward. Where the barb should be, if it were really a hook, are projecting teeth about an inch in length chamfered on the under side. A few blows with a hammer loosen the nails. The board is drawn across the teeth, the nail heads catching in the narrow tooth intervals. A little pry, and the nails fall, six or eight at once, from between the teeth. After being thoroughly cleaned, the lumber moves on to the sawyers’ tables to be cut into standard thicknesses, widths, and lengths. As the sawing progresses, flawed boards are separated from the sound. In a given lot of lumber, not a few long planks are usually found. Their surfaces are often in bad condition, and always they are too thick for box factory use. Such planks are cut twice across their thickness on the band saw, and the resulting boards of standard thickness are put through a planer which turns them out with new surfaces.
The lumber moves forward always by conveyors and eventually comes through ready cut for size to the box factory. Other conveyors take the lumber which may be used for cleats, blocks, and mats to their proper departments.
What is left is carried on a conveyor to a chute, which leads to a sawdust machine below. The sawdust which results is drawn by suction into two accumulators on the roof. From here a blower forces it through a large pipe that carries it into the furnace room.
The box factory also supplies, over and above its quota of containers, any amount of specially shaped blocks and cleats for shipping and packing automobile parts, such as radiators and generators; tiny wooden forms used in the coil unit assembly; and joined wooden mats for the whole organization. In addition, it manufactures new shipping lumber, whenever this becomes necessary.
The short pieces of heavy lumber are used in many ways. For instance, a standard carload of one hundred motors requires 750 feet of heavy lumber for packing and bracing. A number of these planks have to be exactly 8 feet 6 inches long. We have devised metal splice plates to make up these big timbers out of shorter pieces.
And not the least interesting feature of this whole department is that many of the men are sub-standard and would be unable to do hard, exacting work. They are salvaged in the process of salvaging.
Our lumbering activities have gone far afield from lumbering and have developed into a big industry. It is truly remarkable how far afield the pursuit of waste will take one and equally surprising are the results, for by following out the by-products, one gets the original material sought for next to nothing. It is really hard to say which is the product and which is the by-product. That has happened to us in wood. In order not to be a party to wood waste — for we use about a million feet of lumber a day — we bought nearly half a million acres of timber land in northern Michigan, in addition to 120,000 acres in Kentucky. The Kentucky property is as yet undeveloped. Incidentally, most of the land we bought had not proved profitable to its owners because of transport troubles. We always prefer — as in iron — to take abandoned property and make something of it.
The original purchase was an old government land grant to the Michigan Land & Iron Company. Later, and English syndicate took this over, and it was from them that we bought. Most of the timber lies in alternating sections though there are large and scattered miscellaneous holdings, including considerable iron-bearing property. The next purchase was 70,000 acres of timber land at L’Anse. This included a large sawmill, thirty houses, and a narrow-gauge railway to the logging section. We have rebuilt this line as a standard-gauge system and connected it with the main line. About the same time, 30,000 acres were taken over at Pequaming, a town nine miles east of L’Anse. This also included a modern mill with excellent docks, two tug boats, twenty miles of standard-gauge railroad, and the entire town of Pequaming. Both of these towns are on the shore of Keweenaw Bay, Lake Superior, and have the advantage of shipping by water.
Our work centers about Iron Mountain, which was a typical Northern lumber and mining town that had all but passed away after the country had been cleared of timber. An iron mine and a sawmill were the only industries before we put up our plants, and there were many vacant stores and dwellings. The whole country was done. Now we have 5,000 men up there and it is a new country again. Long-closed shops reopened their doors, and the young men have stopped going to the cities — they can earn six dollars a day at home.
In other words, this whole region has been brought to life, not by the discovery of anything new, but by using what was already on hand — and considered worthless.
Start at the beginning and trace the operations. Start with the forest and the lumber camps. We cut no trees under twelve inches, the young ones being allowed to grow and provide the future supply. We cut with a band saw driven by a little gasoline motor. This will fell a tree twenty-six inches in diameter in forty seconds, or one-twentieth of the time required by hand. Also, it will cut close to the ground saving a great deal of lumber that formerly was left in the stump.
The greatest cause of deforestation is forest fires. Most of these are caused by accumulated brush — the dried limbs and branches left from logging operations. Our lumberjacks burn the brush as fast as it is cut, although the old-timers swore that green brush could not be burned. This is the best method of fire protection yet devised. Nature will provide the second crop of timber if given half a chance. It costs about $1.25 per thousand feet to burn the brush, but it makes it so much easier to skid the logs out of the woods that seventy-five cents of this is recovered, making the net cost only fifty cents, which is not too much to pay for fire protection and the speeding up of the remaining growth.
We use tractors almost exclusively. At the Sidnaw camp the tractors are six times as efficient as horses, hauling twice as large loads and making three times as many trips per day. These tractors are generally equipped with crawlers, this type of equipment being very efficient in the snow. The sleds are built with exceptionally wide tracks and the tractor runs between these. The tracks are iced every night, and a road gang keeps them in good repair.
At L’Anse and Pequaming, railroads run far into the woods and connect the camps with the mills or the main line. More than thirty miles of new tracks have already been laid, some of the rails having been salvaged from the D.T. & I. equipment when heavier rails were put down.
The logging camps are just as clean as our other plants. Living conditions are healthful and sanitary, and while this cleanliness was considered outrageous by some of the old lumberjacks, the class of young men the company is now getting appreciates it. Running water, steam heat, and electric lights are in all the larger camps. The old built-in bunks have been abolished. At some of the camps there is a housekeeper, usually the wife of one of the men, who makes the beds and does the washing and mending. A recreation hall or clubhouse is provided for the men during their leisure, it being understood that the bunk houses are places to sleep in. Moving pictures and the radio offer diversion that was impossible a few years ago.
The lumberjack is paid at the rate of six dollars a day for eight hours’ work, and he is charged a moderate amount for his board and lodging. This brings him at least four dollars a day net, which is very high pay for the woods, particularly when the employment is steady for seven or eight months of the year. The pay and the conditions of work have attracted the best men from everywhere. Although our wages are supposed to be high, our logging costs are very low.
The logs come in to Iron Mountain by rail or by water, and it is there that we have made our largest developments in the direction of eliminating waste.
We have several sawmills, but the largest is at Iron Mountain, which cuts as much as 300,000 feet of lumber a day when running at capacity speed.
In January, 1924, we introduced a new method of sawing which made all previous records for economy look ridiculous, for the new system reduced waste and scrap to negligible quantities. This consists of sawing the body parts direct from unedged planks as they come from the log. Heretofore, body parts were made from kiln-dried boards which had been sawed to uniform size and graded. These boards had been produced at a sacrifice of much of the youngest and best wood in the log, and if the log happened to be curved or irregularly shaped, the scrap often exceeded the merchantable lumber obtained.
The new system is to saw the log into parallel planks, leaving the bark on. These planks are cut without regard to the shape of the log. In fact, the shape of the log or the plank is of no consequence. The plank is then taken to the layout table, where patterns of various shapes are marked out until the plank is completely covered right up to the bark. Any irregularities, such as the swell of the butt, are taken advantage of. Instead of trimming the board to avoid a knot or check, the layout man simply goes around it. This method permits the utilization of nearly all the wood, and vary little scrap remains. The various parts are then sawed from the board with a high-speed band saw. From 25 to 30 percent more body parts may be obtained from logs than under the old method where the log was “squared” and the boards edged and trimmed. In addition to that, branches not under four inches in diameter may be cut up into body parts. Heretofore, the branches, on account of their irregularity, were useful only as fuel or for wood distillation.
We calculate that this method will make our forests last one-third longer than under the old way of sawing, and perhaps they will last forever if we learn how properly to reforest. The present savings are about twenty thousand dollars a day.
Once sawed, the parts are sent to the dry kilns. We have 52 kilns. Body parts are loaded on special trucks, each with a capacity of 1,122 cubic feet. A kiln holds 36 of these trucks, making the total capacity of each kiln 40,392 cubic feet of body parts. The kilns are kept full all the time and every time a truck is taken out, another is pushed in. Accurate records are kept of each truck load and it is not removed until an analysis shows the moisture content. Green wood contains about 40 percent water, which is dried down to 7 percent before it leaves the kiln. About twenty days is allowed for drying, the exact time depending upon the thickness of the cellular structure of the wood. There is less end-checking and warping by drying shaped parts than there was when the boards were first dried and then sawed into parts. The time required for proper drying has also been reduced by approximately ten days.
Clear lumber is dried in the open air. This is not used for small body parts. It would be waste to cut up clear lumber when smaller lumber is just as strong.
Precedent had it that parts could not be cut from green lumber and afterward kiln dried. It was declared they would warp and crack. We have had no trouble. We found that what was supposed to be trouble was due to improper stacking and the uneven introduction of the steam.
The savings in lumber to this point through cutting close to the ground, through sawing the log directly into the shapes required, and by improved kiln drying amount to about 50 percent. But now we have gone still further by manufacturing the parts completely at Iron Mountain, and not only do we cut out the transport of waste wood and water, but also we use the waste.
The central feature of Iron Mountain is the power house which coordinates with the sawmill, the dry kilns, the body-making plant, and the wood-distillation plant, and we get a deal of our power as a by-product. The power house was put up, by the way, in the dead of winter with the thermometer sometimes going as low as thirty degrees below zero.
Steam is required for heating the wood-drying kilns at five pounds per square inch pressure. Steam at 225 pounds pressure suitable for operating turbines can be produced at only 10 percent greater cost than that for the heating pressure. Thus, by developing steam in the power-house boilers at 225 pounds per square inch, passing it through turbines and “bleeding” low pressure heating steam from the turbines after a part of its available energy has been obtained, the steam is practically serving a double duty — supplying both power and heat.
The power house has several unusual features. The furnaces are designed to burn almost anything — refuse, sawdust, oil, tar, or powdered coal may be used as fuel.
Smoke from the power plant is delivered through a horizontal duct to the carbonization and distillation buildings of the wood-distillation plant, where the heat is used in drying wood previous to distillation and also in some of the chemical processes. Thus, much of the heat ordinarily wasted is recovered. The horizontal smokestack is ten feet in diameter in its main section, branching into nine-foot and five-foot diameter ducts which lead respectively to the carbonization building and the distillation building. The pipe is thirty-five feet above ground and is supported on steel towers. It is built of heavy steel plates and lines with magnesia and asbestos fire brick as heat insulators.
In addition to the power obtained from steam, we have introduced into the group of plants an additional 9,000 horsepower by damming the Menominee River two miles away. Three vertical water turbines are connected with the electric generators. This is one of the finest of our smaller power houses, being marble lined. All the fittings are nickeled.
The body plant is not unusual — little that we have is unusual. Our results come from coordination. But we save every scrap of wood and particle of sawdust. The plant is as clean as an office — but all our plants are that way.
The end of our lumbering comes in the wood-distillation plant. We chose the Stafford process instead of the old-fashioned oven process. The latter requires good-sized pieces of wood, while the Stafford process can use anything with a cellulose structure. Sawdust, shavings, chips, bark, corncobs, nutshells, or straw may be converted into charcoal and its by-products.
The first step in the distillation of wood is the transfer of chemical wood from the hot pond, which washes off all dirt and grit, to the chemical sawmill. The mill salvages all merchantable lumber, and only the refuse, combined with blocks sawed from branches and other unworkable timber, is sent to the drying department. The small branches and limbs have few commercial uses except as fuel, and the chemical plant therefore converts into valuable products great quantities of wood hitherto considered worthless, for transportation charges make its use as fuel too expensive.
The wood driers are cylindrical shells a hundred feet long and ten feet in diameter. They have an internal flue through which hot gas from the power-house stacks is forced, the gas passing down the flue, radiating its heat through the walls, and then passing back through the surrounding jacket, which is filled with wood. This is known as the counter-current method of wood drying and it thoroughly removes the water. The driers are set on a slight incline and rotate constantly. The dry wood leaves the shells heated to a temperature of 300 degrees Fahrenheit, and is carried by a system of asbestos-covered conveyors to the retorts, where it enters a gas-tight barrel valve.
The retort is a shell fifty feet high and ten feet in diameter, lined with fire brick. When the retort is started for the first time, a fire is built in it and the brick lining heated to 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit. The retort is then closed and the barrel valve turns the dry wood in. The heat retained by the firebrick lining is sufficient to start the reaction which produces pyroligneous acid and charcoal. This reaction generates sufficient heat to make the process continuous. Meanwhile, the mass of wood moves slowly toward the bottom of the retort, the volatile substances being driven off. What gets to the bottom is pure charcoal, which is removed through another barrel valve.
The vapour is condensed, but the gas is not. All the gas goes to the scrubber, a tower fifty feet high, where it is thoroughly scrubbed and the condensable portion recovered as pyroligneous acid. The remainder goes to the power plant to be burned as fuel.
When the charcoal leaves the retort it drops from the barrel valve into a gas-tight conveyor which takes it to a rotating water cooler. This is a shell six feet in diameter with a ring of tubes through which water circulates, cooling the charcoal. From the coolers the charcoal goes to a set of conditioners, which stabilize it to prevent spontaneous combustion. It is then screened, the larger lumps being conveyed to storage bins while the smaller particles are pulverized and carried to the charcoal bins, which supply the briquetting department. Mixed with a special binder, this charcoal is briquetted for fuel. All briquette drying is done with waster gas from the power-house flues.
From the pyroligneous acid in the condensers, a wide variety of by-products may be recovered. The first step is the transfer of the acid from the condensers to storage tanks in the primary room of the distillation building, and into the primary stills. There it is broken up into tar, methyl alcohol, acids, and light oils.
The tar, upon further distillation, yields pitch, wood creosote, and flotation oils, all of which we use in our industries. The pitch is used for sealing batteries and insulating coils; the creosote as a preservative for poles, posts, and railroad ties, and the flotation oils for mining purposes.
The group of by-products containing the methyl alcohol and acid is first neutralized with lime and then passes to the stills which drive off the alcohol, the lime combining with the acetic acid to make calcium acetate. This is taken to the acetate drying room in semi-fluid form, partially dried on atmospheric drum driers, and finally dried to solid form in large wire belt driers. From there it goes to the acetate storage bins, and thence to the ethyl acetate department where it is mixed with ethyl alcohol and sulphuric acid to form ethyl acetate. Great quantities of this product are used in the manufacture of leather cloth for tops and upholstery.
The methyl alcohol coming off goes to the refinery and emerges as pure methyl alcohol and methyl acetone, useful as solvents or denaturing agents. The remaining oils are used as fuel.
Under this treatment, each ton of waste wood yields 135 pounds of acetate of lime, 61 gallons of 82 percent methyl alcohol, 610 pounds of charcoal, 15 gallons of tar, heavy oils, light oils, and creosote, and 600 cubic feet of fuel gas.
And these products of distillation, at the moment of writing, give a daily recovery which, in dollars and cents, amounts to around twelve thousand dollars.
And eventually we shall go much farther. There is wood enough in this country for everyone — when we learn to use it.