Showing posts with label Montgomery Ward. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Montgomery Ward. Show all posts

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Randhurst is 50!

Today marks another in a series of retail golden anniversaries in a year already full of them. While less renowned than the others we’ve talked about here in recent months, it’s the one closest to my heart. Fifty years ago today, Randhurst Center, the “pinwheel on the prairie” to cite one nickname from its early days, opened in Mount Prospect, Illinois, about 20 miles northwest of Chicago.

I’ve written about Randhurst several times on this site in the last few years, and there’s not much I can add to that. We started with a historical overview of Randhurst on the eve of its massive redevelopment, looked at the wondrous Randhurst Christmas seasons from the 1960’s, and introduced the Randhurst book - a comprehensive, entertaining and copiously illustrated history of the mall from then to now.  As mentioned, I contributed some research and had the honor of writing the foreword to the book. It was a great experience and I learned many things, not the least of which was how to spell “foreword”.
       
But just look at these photos. Taken right at the time of Randhurst’s opening, they are among the relatively few formal publicity photos (many snapshots and slides exist) of the shopping center ever made.

Of course they show the place in its pristine state, but setting that aside, many of us would still find it hard not to compare the classic Randhurst (and the other great malls of the past) with what we frequently see today. Take the anchor stores’ inside entrances, for example – contrast today’s “one style fits all” signage on whitish or rustish or grayish marble tile backgrounds with the exquisite variety of old. The prominent columns and filigreed second-level openings of Wieboldt’s. The handsome brick and globe lights of The Fair, which remained through much of the Montgomery Ward era.  Carson Pirie Scott’s (not pictured here, unfortunately, but viewable on earlier posts) stunning blue tile with antique gold signage.

Then there are the kiosks – no tacky stands, no pushy salespeople hawking vitamin supplements or cell phone covers (granted, there wasn’t a 60’s equivalent for those), or toy airplanes flying into your face.  Instead they were quaint, low key and beautifully designed, reflecting architect Victor Gruen’s European sensibilities. 
  
Even the amusements for children are vastly different. Where today outdoor playground or Little Tikes equipment and rubberized floors are the norm, once upon a time we played on cement-sculpted animals. On polished granite bases. On top of a cement floor. Yes, friends, the insurance industry would love that today. 

And now, at Randhurst and a number of other malls across the country, the mall “core” itself is disappearing. Outdoor walkways and parking spaces have replaced the seating coves and fountains of the past. One thing that really strikes me about “lifestyle centers” is the acoustical difference. The echoes, the dull rumble of even a small crowd at the good ol’ mall, is disappearing. Now they sound like…parking lots. (For those of you who tend to stay a step ahead of me, I’ll spare you the expected Joni Mitchell paraphrases.)

But forget all of that for now, this is a milestone worth celebrating! And in light of that I’m going to do something completely new here. Yes, friends, we’re having a contest! In observance of the 50th anniversary of Randhurst and the somewhat less important 5th anniversary of Pleasant Family Shopping, I will be giving away, by random drawing, 5 copies of Randhurst: Suburban Chicago’s Grandest Shopping Center, written by Greg Peerbolte of the Mount Prospect Historical Society and published by The History Press. The book contains a free foreword by me, and was voted one of the Ten Best Books Ever*. 
   
What do you have to do? Well, it’s simple! Just leave a (hopefully tasteful as always) comment on this post, with a way for me to identify you on the winners’ list. “A way to identify” means something other than Anonymous (one of my most loyal commenters), and can be your real name, an assumed name, you Army serial number, checking account number and pin, whatever you’re comfortable with!

On Saturday, August 25th, each name will be written on an appropriate piece of paper, placed into an enclosure of some sort, and five names will be drawn at random. I will publish the winners’ names (or whatever you use) on the site that evening, and winners will need to contact me with their address info. It’s that easy! Don’t delay - enter today!  
   
NOTE: No purchase necessary, but of course we always appreciate such things. This offer is void where prohibited, taxed or generally frowned upon. One entry per person, please. Odds of winning are somewhere between 100,000,000 and 10 to 1. Many will enter (I hope), only five will win. This contest is not open to employees of the Mount Prospect Historical Society or their families (like I’m gonna know) or employee (singular) of Pleasant Family Shopping and my family (except my Uncle Louie, who wouldn’t read the #@&$ thing if I paid him, so I’m okay there). E Pluribus Unum, Annuit cœptis, Quid - Me Vexari? and all other conditions apply.  Thankyouverymuch, you’re a beautiful audience.

* on the subject of Mount Prospect area shopping malls.   

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Reflections on Dixie Square Mall

There was a time when you could when you could walk around the Dixie Square Mall without placing yourself in the path of bulldozers or wrecking balls. And there was a time when you could explore the place and even take pictures without fear of the floor falling out from under or on top of you, or being attacked by wild dogs or persons with bad intent. And yes, there was actually a time when you could shop there without having to dodge film crews, Illinois State Police cars, or two guys in dark suits and sunglasses behind the dashboard of a retired Mount Prospect police cruiser.

That time was long ago, of course. These photos are from that time.

So it’s finally coming down, according to news reports from every corner. (I received seven Google News Alerts about it in one day last week.) Demolition officially started last week and is expected to last into the summer. What’s interesting to me have been the reminiscences lacing these news reports, especially those of the various civic officials involved, several of which acknowledged Dixie Square’s unique role in pop culture history. The Governor of Illinois, for example, reappeared at the site and told of his experiences shopping there in his younger years. “Although we will always remember the Dixie Mall as the location for one of the most iconic scenes in ‘The Blues Brothers’ movie, it is time for this now vacant building to be torn down to make way for more economic development for the Harvey community”, he said. Then, from a local state representative, came a strong dose of reality – "For me, I will never talk about the movie again," he said. “It left nothing here”. What do you say in response to that?

I’ll say this. I truly hope the Dixie Square property is put to good use – for a new shopping center, or maybe a park or some light industry – just something of value, at least, to the 30,000 people for whom Harvey, Illinois is home. Because even a crumbling monument to a movie would be preferable to a soul-crushing vacant lot.

The wonderful photos above were taken in 1968, at the same time as those featured on our Dixie Square history post. They showcase the mall two years after its opening, in the exciting early years, before a myriad of problems set in. The notion that the mall would close down just ten years later would have seemed the height of absurdity then.

And once again, they are shown here by the courtesy of Dan Steenwyk, president of Steenwyk Architects, successor to his father’s architectural practice (the designers of Dixie Square Mall) in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I had the pleasure of speaking with Dan last week when I called him to relay a permission request from the CBS-owned TV station in Chicago, whose executive producer saw the Dixie Square photos here and asked to use them in a news report on the start of demolition of the mall. (That’s WBBM or “Channel 2”, as most locals know it. They even have the “dream team”, Bill and Walter, back on the air there, just like they were when I was ten!) Dan was kind enough to send me these additional photos, taken at the same time, to present here. All photos in this post are ©1968 Steenwyk Architects, All Rights Reserved.

The photos themselves need very little explanation. I’m so pleased to be able to show a full-facade view of the Montgomery Ward store this time around. The following two photos show daytime views of the Penneys facade from opposing angles (On the first Penneys photo, note the reflection in the window of a portion of the orange “JEWEL” store lettering, and its antique-blue mansard roof. Yes indeed.), followed by a great close-up of the interior Penneys entrance. Those shoppers seem a bit worn out from all the excitement, eh? Last is a nighttime view of the main mall entrance on the Wards end. It’s a bit blurry, but the Wards interior entrance is visible inside.

Below, two original pencil renderings, photographed as they were - pinned to the walls of the Hornbach, Steenwyk and Thrall offices. There’s an elevation view of the Montgomery Ward store followed a perspective view of the Penneys unit. Simply superb.

And lastly, a detail from a Northern Illinois Gas advertisement (“Even huge shopping centers like Dixie Square heat and cool with gas”), featuring a pen-and-ink drawing of the mall.
Looks like someone needed to borrow a push pin!

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Christmas at Randhurst, Early 1960's


Randhurst. In its early years it was an appealing sight, regardless of the time of year. At Christmastime that appeal was magnified in many ways. A glittering new shopping center it was, the world’s largest…where we lucky Northwest Suburbanites got fresh new gift ideas from sparkling new stores…where we found gifts galore from token to treasure…all under one roof, in 72-degree comfort.

When November rolled around, though, things took on a new air of excitement. Each Christmas purchase we made there, for example, was affixed with the gleaming “Randhurst Seal” - an evergreen-shaped foil sticker-thingy sporting the center’s winsome triangular logo, to glisten on our gifts as a symbol of our good taste and thoughtfulness.

And there were special events in abundance. What with school choir performances, ice skating shows (on temporary portable rinks), celebrity appearances, and a homestand by Jolly Old St. Nick himself, a trip to Randhurst became a must on everyone’s Christmas list in our corner of the world. Topping it off were the decorations – Christmas trees big and small, beautiful lights, animated displays and poinsettias in profusion, all of which combined to produce a magical effect.

Realizing that this holiday magic was by no means limited to Randhurst or the other ‘historically significant’ malls, of course. To be sure, “attention to detail” was the watchword for many of the early enclosed shopping centers, partly from a desire to compete favorably with the pomp and circumstance of the downtown department stores and their classic display windows. The victory of the suburban “branch stores” over their downtown flagships wasn’t yet complete, but by the mid-60’s the music had started playing and the end credits were about to roll.

As nice as many modern-day retail Christmas displays and events are today, and some are fantastic, there’s just something about the Christmas shopping experience of decades past that stands out. No doubt a major reason for this is our tendency to view this time of year through “nostalgia glasses”, to make endless comparisons with Christmas past. It’s an ingrained part of the American holiday experience. (One thing I know for certain – that department store gift boxes used to be a lot nicer than the flimsy things given out today. Don’t need my nostalgia glasses to see that.)

I suspect at least some of it may be due of the passing of an era – in this case, the era of the great display houses. For decades, the retail holiday decor business was dominated by a handful of firms whose origins dated back to the early years of the 20th century. These companies combined a theatrical flair with old-world craftsmanship to create charming and memorable scenes that became a vital part of a store’s image, year in and year out.

Most prominent among these firms was the Bliss Display Corporation of New York City. Founded by Lord & Taylor display designer James Albert Bliss in 1929, the Bliss company built elaborate displays for most of the key New York department stores – Macy’s (including this 1959 stunner), Gimbels, Abraham & Straus, Lord & Taylor and Bloomingdale’s, along with Philadelphia’s legendary John Wanamaker stores. Bliss’ reach extended well beyond the eastern seaboard, including work for St. Louis-based Stix, Baer and Fuller (I guess New Yorkers would consider St. Louis “the sticks”, right? Ok, I’ll stop that now.), among many others. A fascinating profile of the Bliss company and some of the other major display makers can be found in the book “Holidays on Display” by William L. Bird, Jr., a perennial coffee-table book at our house at Christmastime.

But Chicago had its own Duke of Display. The Silvestri Art Manufacturing Company was founded in 1901 by George Silvestri in 1901 and operated by his son, George Jr., during the exciting years of the 1950’s and 60’s. Silvestri’s plant was located at 1147 West Ohio Street, just blocks away from the best restaurant that ever existed - the late, great Como Inn. (As voted by me, that is. Whenever our family ate out for a special occasion and the choice was mine to make, that’s where we went.) The Silvestri company made a wide range of decorations, including “the white reindeer tethered to State st. lampposts”, as the Chicago Tribune put in one of a near-annual series of articles on the “fascinating” firm, the lighted trees and wreaths at O’Hare Airport ($15,420 worth in 1966 alone), and scores of elaborate, animated holiday window sets for such Chicago luminaries (pun not intended, but I’ll take it) as Marshall Field & Company, Wieboldts, Goldblatts and Carson Pirie Scott, including several years’ worth of jaw-dropping faux-European storefronts for the latter.

Silvestri had an interesting sideline that profoundly influenced Christmas decorating in general, both commercially and at home. In the mid-1950’s, they introduced the Italian miniature Christmas light to the American public, importing them and selling them in department and discount stores under the Silvestri name. Prior to that time, most indoor or outdoor lights available were the big honkin’ “C-7 style” GE or Noma lights. (Don’t misunderstand me. I still love ‘em.) The new lights, jewel-like and much smaller, proved to be such big sellers that the Italian government bestowed a special award upon Mr. Silvestri in 1957. Until the advent of LED lighting (Maybe my eyes will get used to those things one of these days.), they were what most of us thought of as Christmas lights, though more than a few folks still call them “Italian lights” (made in China for eons now, of course) and packaging still often refers to them as “mini lights”.

I’m not sure if the Randhurst decorations pictured above were Silvestri products, but because of their extensive work for Carson Pirie Scott, it’s a strong possibility. Carsons, of course, was “first among equals” in the Randhurst Corporation partnership, with the lesser among equals being Wieboldts (another Silvestri customer, as mentioned) and The Fair/Montgomery Ward. It’s safe to assume they had lots of influence in the matter.

The photos above were taken at Randhurst between 1962 (its first Christmas season) and 1965, and appear here courtesy of the Mount Prospect Historical Society. Greg Peerbolte, the society’s executive director, wrote a great book about Randhurst that was published this past spring (and is selling very well, I’m told) and can be ordered directly from the society. If you’re interested in shopping center history (and who isn’t, I beg?) or grew up in the area and want to reminisce, you’ll enjoy it thoroughly.

The scenes give a nice feel for the festivities, including the throngs lined up to meet Santa in front of Kresge’s (dig the Aztec-sun background and the space-age outfits of his teenybopper “helpers”). And yes, the impeccably dressed man in the suit, tie and pocket square is none other than actor Cesar Romero, in between his role in the movie “Ocean’s 11” (the Sinatra original, not the Clooney remake with 400 sequels) and his iconic role as The Joker in the 1966-68 Batman TV series. In the early 1960’s, Romero was the traveling “Ambassador of Fashion” for Petrocelli’s, a line of men’s suits.

There’s an indoor skating show, starring two ladies trying to defy nature and become twins, a fairly scary skating hippopotamus (I hesitated to include this photo for fear of a “New Zoo Revue” flashback. I may delete it yet.), and an angelically-robed children’s choir in front of The Fair’s interior entrance. (Check out the backwards “n’s” on the ‘Open Tonight’ banner in back. Cute.)

Several general views follow, depicting various areas of Randhurst bedecked in Christmas finery. At least one year (1963), they featured a set of 11 “traditional” downtown store-style display windows, constructed as free-standing dioramas, one of which is pictured above in photo number 12. Lastly, the landmark Randhurst water tower is converted to a special “holiday hot-air balloon”, years before The 5th Dimension made such things fashionable.

Below, two Christmas-related ads from the early days – a newspaper ad from 1962 (the source for my hyperbolic first paragraphs – I’d love to find one of those Randhurst “Christmas seals”!) and an interesting trade ad from a late 1963 issue of Display World, offering that year’s Christmas dioramas for sale after completion of the holiday run. It was commonplace in those days for big-name department stores or shopping centers to sell their used Christmas displays to smaller-market counterparts as every year something new was needed and the displays were far too costly to toss. The old “direct from Broadway” concept, although in this case it was “direct from Mount Prospect”.

Here’s hoping your Christmas shopping is almost done!


Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Christmas at Chris-Town, 1962

Eight-foot tall toy soldiers guard the facade of one of America’s most fondly-remembered malls, Phoenix’s Chris-Town, in this 1962 photo. The soldiers (and the candles, also eight feet tall) represent a type of decor element that is seen less and less today. Both the soldiers and the candles were manufactured by General Plastics Corporation, a Marion, Indiana-based firm that supplied Christmas decorations for malls, department stores, office buildings and city streetlights everywhere for decades.

The mall itself, which opened on August 24, 1961, was a superb example of interior design. It featured three gorgeous public areas - the Court of Fountains, the Court of Flowers and the Court of Birds, all delights for local shoppers, especially the latter. The mall’s anchors were J.C. Penney (one of the very last “yellow-letter sign” Penney stores), Montgomery Ward and the first and only branch of the 66-year old downtown Phoenix department store, Korrick’s. In 1966, Korrick’s sold out to Broadway-Hale Stores Inc., and the store was remodeled and rechristened with The Broadway nameplate.

To learn more about Chris-Town, of which now just a remnant exists, let me recommend this wonderful website, which is entirely dedicated to its history. It features many excellent photos, including some great night shots from the following Christmas, 1963.

All these scenes need now is a little snow, right? Oh yes, this is Phoenix we’re talking about. Then how ‘bout some white-colored pebbles?

Saturday, November 6, 2010

It's the Montgomery, Not the Ward

“Well the first thing you know
Mobil had some bucks to spare,
Kinfolk said "That drillin’s such a bear!"
Said "Stores and catalogs are where you oughta be"
So they loaded up the stock
And they bought Montgomeryyy…
Ward, that is…..”

(With apologies to Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs. And anyone still reading this post.)
To be sure, the biggest story of the 1970’s for Montgomery Ward was their acquisition by Mobil Corporation. After 96 years as an independent company followed by six more as the “senior partner” in the holding company Marcor, Wards was about to become a division of a company many times its size.

As mentioned, Mobil Corporation, known at one time as Standard Oil Company of New York, was in 1974 the country’s third largest oil firm and seventh largest company overall. In 1973, Mobil acquired 4.5% of Marcor’s (corporate parent of Wards and Container Corporation of America, a packaging company) stock on the open market, more-or-less flying under the radar of the press and government regulators alike. In June 1974, Mobil went public with its desire to acquire control of Marcor, with the stated goal of diversifying its business.

It could easily be said Mobil’s timing wasn’t the greatest - trying to invest profits outside of oil exploration when the oil crisis of 1973-4 was still vying with Watergate in the headlines. In fact, the shortage had technically been “over” for only a couple of months at that point, and the resultant higher gas prices were here to stay. Reading then-current newspaper and magazine articles about Mobil’s offer to buy Marcor, though, you get the feeling their execs knew exactly what they were about to get into.

Expected as it was, the political backlash was indeed strong – Wisconsin congressman Les Aspin, according to the Chicago Tribune, warned that a merger “would result in a restraint of trade” since Montgomery Ward also sold tires, batteries, auto accessories and gasoline (in some cases) at its auto centers. Senator Thomas McIntyre of New Hampshire was “absolutely outraged” that Mobil would “spend three-fifths of its last year profits to buy a non-energy enterprise.” Minnesota Senator (and soon-to-be vice president) Walter Mondale was quoted as saying the transaction “clearly indicate(d) the big oil companies don’t know what to do with their excess profits.” As late as April 1979, according to Business Week, President Carter weighed in on the Mobil/Marcor merger (which had actually occurred months before Carter was even elected to the presidency), citing it as a textbook example of the need for a windfall profits tax on the major oil companies.

Despite this, Mobil pressed forward with a tender offer for 51 percent of Marcor, with the blessing of Marcor’s upper management, conditioned on the fact that Mobil would allow Marcor’s existing management to run the day-to-day operations. In August 1974, the merger was consummated, although the U.S. Justice Department would continue to review it. Wards now had a “rich uncle Mobil”, according to the Chicago Tribune. In March 1976 Mobil (which already owned 54 percent of Marcor at that point) moved to acquire the rest of the company, and three months later the deal was finally done.

For the first couple of years following the Mobil merger, Montgomery Ward, still riding a wave of success that started in the early 70’s, contributed respectably to their new parent company’s profits. By 1979, however, things had taken a sharp turn for the worse, aided in no small part by the dismal economic conditions (with a second oil crisis topping the bill) that characterized that year. Another problem had its seeds in Wards’ initial turnaround strategy of the early 1960’s, and only became apparent over time – the company’s continual desire to emulate Sears. Indeed, nearly all of Wards’ key management had come from Sears, their desire to one-up the ol’ alma mater fueled by a strange mix of admiration and revenge. For many of those years it was a valid strategy, while Sears cruised along from strength to strength through the 60’s into the early years of the following decade - definitely a style to follow. Problem was, by 1979, Sears was having huge identity problems of its own, and both Sears and Wards were facing intensified competition from specialty stores, home centers and the Relentless Advance of the K-Monster.

Alarmed by these developments and eager to protect their investment, Mobil stepped in “with a new financial package and encouragement to proceed with a markedly different marketing strategy”, according to a July 17, 1980 Business Week article. The financial package was an interest-free $200 million “loan”, and the marketing strategy involved a small company that Wards had purchased back in 1973 – Miami-based Jefferson Stores, Inc., a discount store chain with seven stores at the time Wards bought them out. “React(ing) as if Jefferson were the retail equivalent of an oil strike”, as Business Week later put it, the mandate from Mobil was clear – “high quality discount units”, along the lines of Dayton-Hudson Company’s Target stores, would be Montgomery Ward’s future.

Whatever their behind-the-scenes reservations may have been, the Wards executives were on board, at least publicly. “The mass merchandiser has been doing poorly in comparison with the discounter, so we’re making a major change in our strategy” said Gordon Worley, Wards’ executive VP, and CEO Ed Donnell went so far as to praise checkout lanes, long a staple of discounters and anathema to department stores – “There is no question that the public likes a checkout store, assuming the store does a good job of categorizing merchandise and providing help where it’s needed”. Within 18 months, Mobil had quintupled the size of the operation, now called Jefferson Ward, to over 40 units, an “unprecedented expansion in retailing” as Business Week put it. Plans were in place to convert one-third of Montgomery Ward’s existing stores to the Jefferson Ward model.

The result, unfortunately, was chaos. The burden of servicing the new stores fell to the tiny Jefferson staff. Overwhelmed by the hugely increased store count, mistakes were rampant. Stores received “too many or too few goods”, according to Business Week, and the Jefferson people had no experience in dealing with the furniture, high-end apparel and other unfamiliar Ward staples they were now “forced” to carry. On top of that, the chain’s expanded geographic footprint (into brutally competitive markets such as Philadelphia and portions of New Jersey) posed new problems for the Jefferson buyers, who were used to stocking for balmy South Florida climes. Winter coats, for example, arrived on the racks of Jefferson Ward’s new Northern stores a month after the winter selling season began – and that’s exactly where most of them stayed. The net result was that Jefferson had turned from “a small moneymaker” to a fairly good-sized loss operation. The strategy that was supposed to save Wards’ bacon was burning it.

Flummoxed, Mobil turned to someone outside the insular Sears/Wards universe to set the ship right. In March 1981, the company appointed Stephen L. Pistner as president of Montgomery Ward. Pistner, who held the same position at Dayton-Hudson Corp. at the time he was recruited to run Wards, had a heavy claim to fame in the retail world. In 1973, Pistner became head of that company’s Target discount store division, an operation with great potential but sorely lacking in direction. Pistner was instrumental in fostering the culture and sense of style (right down to advocating the stores’ pervasive red color scheme, against all conventional wisdom of the day) that laid the foundation for Target’s current success. Reputed for straight talk, Pistner “was attracted to strong personalities (in managers)” and allowed them considerable latitude “as long they delivered”, he told author Laura Rowley, author of the book On Target.

Upon arriving at Wards, Pistner soon learned that the company’s turnaround strategy “was poorly researched, ill-defined and miserably executed” as Business Week phrased it, and he immediately killed the plans to convert 115 standard Montgomery Ward stores to the Jefferson Ward format. Instead, the new Wards image would be that of a “hybrid merchandiser”, with “the operating disciplines of discounting and the presentation concepts of specialty merchants”, precisely the two types of competitors that were giving the company fits at the time.

There would be changes in the merchandise mix as well, with a greater emphasis on “lower-margin, high turnover items” such as health and beauty aids, and a move away from big-ticket items. Pistner instituted a “never-out” policy for 1000 core items, presumably a legacy of his Target days. He also commissioned a study of Wards’ customer base that yielded some interesting results –an unexpectedly loyal following of 25-to-40 year old shoppers, for one. “We are loaded with young customers but are not supplying them with what they want”, a “Ward insider” told Business Week. To address the issue, Wards set plans to beef up their offerings of such items as children’s clothes and young adult sportswear, including a Summer 1981 promotion of Izod alligator-logo shirts for a jaw-dropping 19 bucks apiece. (Sure wish I’d heard about that 29 ½ years ago. I could never afford ‘em at regular price, and settled for the JCPenney “Fox” knockoffs instead, in clear violation of the tenets set forth in The Preppy Handbook. Honks me off just thinking about it.)

In late 1982, the company’s 15-year-old “blue bar” logo was retired in favor of a new image. Whereas the old logo featured a smaller-type “Montgomery” stacked over a much larger-type “Ward”, the new logo featured the name “Montgomery Ward” horizontally, typeset in gray Serifa Bold over a burgundy underscore, although there would be several color variants of both in the ensuing years. The goal was to return the emphasis to the company’s full name, according to Chicago Tribune business columnist George Lazarus, who quoted the company’s design director: “Wards is not a unique name in the marketplace. Montgomery is what gives our name distinction”. (My thoughts exactly.)

Two years into Stephen Pistner’s reign, in early 1983, Wards was still losing money and borrowing heavily from its parent company, Mobil. The costly shift in merchandising approach and a host of painful cutbacks (including nearly one-fifth of the company’s employees) were not yet yielding dividends, and rumors swirled that Mobil had lost patience and would soon dump Montgomery Ward. Still, Pistner was adamant in comments to the Chicago Tribune in a March ‘83 article - 1984 would see the company would finally go into the black.

Throughout 1983, nearly 60 existing Montgomery Ward stores received the “Impact II” renovations and a number of new ones, including a 153,000 square foot store at Chicago’s Ford City Mall on Chicago’s southwest side, were opened. As Tribune writer Janet Key noted, however, Wards was far from alone in debuting a “new look” at the time, with Sears eagerly rolling out its “Store of the Future” concept and JCPenney scrapping auto centers and hard goods in favor of fashion.

It must’ve helped though, as Pistner’s profitability prediction (the “Triple-P”, as it were) did come true, with the company posting its first annual profit in 5 years and best Christmas season in longer than that, a January 26, 1984 Tribune article attested. He attributed the chain’s greatly improved performance to the new store designs, which emphasized the “Seven Worlds of Wards” - apparel, automotive, home electronics, home furnishings, appliances, home improvements, and recreation and leisure. The remodeling program would extend through the new year, affecting 65 more stores, and Pistner noted that the focus would now turn towards the company’s 48-store Jefferson Ward chain. “There’s nothing wrong with the basic strategy of upscale discounting, but (Jefferson Ward) is a little out of whack”, he told the Tribune. “It needs to be corrected the way Wards was corrected”.

But by the end of the year, he was gone. On the last day of 1984, it was announced that Pistner had resigned to accept the CEO position at McCrory Stores, the dime store division of Rapid-American Corporation. Speculation as to why he left, of course, was rampant – the possible reasons including frustration at dealing with oil executives as opposed to retail people, or perhaps a sense that his task of returning Ward to profitability was complete and it was time to move on. For his part, Pistner simply said he had received “an exceptional offer”. At McCrory, Pistner would oversee the purchase of the Kresge and Jupiter chains from Kmart Corporation. In 1987, after a falling out with Rapid-American chairman Meshulam Riklis, Pistner resigned. In 1990, he became chairman and CEO of bankrupt Ames, enduring two undoubtedly miserable years there.

To replace Pistner as head of Montgomery Ward, Mobil hired Bernard Brennan, president of Household Merchandising Inc., the parent company of Ben Franklin and T.G. and Y. variety stores and Vons, the Los Angeles-based supermarket chain. This was Brennan’s second tour of duty at Wards, having served previously as a vice president under Pistner. Much of his career, however, was spent at Sears, Roebuck and Co., where his father, grandfather and notably, brother – had worked. I say notable because his brother, Edward Brennan, had recently been appointed CEO of Sears. The Brennan brothers, both heading up legendary yet troubled retailers, were the subject of a great many business stories during the 1980’s as one might expect.

In 1985, with a degree of stability achieved, Mobil began to seriously consider selling off Montgomery Ward. For over two years, Ward had not required additional cash from Mobil, the new merchandising strategy was largely in place, and some of the painful cuts had already been made, including a tiny subsidiary that few knew about – unless you were a kid growing up in the Chicago area, that is. In 1973 Wards had purchased the Golden Bear Restaurant chain, a group of 21 pancake houses throughout the Chicago area, with headquarters in northwest suburban Mount Prospect. I remember these with great fondness, and one thing still stands out after all these years - the napkins, with pictures of “Golden Bear”, stacks of pancakes, and a little song printed on them: “Golden Bear, Golden Bear, it’s a honey of a place where food is fun”, complete with a staff and musical notes. Although I couldn’t read music at that age (not that I’m great at it now), I always had a tune in my head that fit the words. In mid-1984, Wards sold the chain to PepsiCo, who converted many of the locations to Pizza Huts and dumped the rest. Guess I should have saved one of those napkins.

More painful cuts were to come, though. One of those was the discontinuance of the company’s legendary 103-year-old catalog, for decades the very foundation of the business. As Ward president Bernard Brennan was quoted in the New York Times, “Frankly, we see no promise of improvement in our catalogue segment” (“Catalogue” – heh. But this is the Times, you know.) The last Wards catalog was set for December 1985 release. Of course there was the sticky issue of what to do with Wards’ 1,250 small catalog stores, franchised for the most part to mom-and-pop operators. A number of these opted to join a new cooperative formed by former Ward executives called Amity Associated Stores. (I wasn’t able to find much information on these, and can only assume they weren’t around long.) The company’s Jefferson Ward unit, which had gone from panacea to pariah in a relatively short span of time, was also put on the block. In June of 1985, Jefferson’s 18-store Northern Division was sold to Stop & Shop Companies, Inc., for conversion to Bradlees stores.

With most of the subsidiaries and peripheral businesses gone by the end of 1985, Montgomery Ward, then consisting of 300-plus full-line or nearly full-line stores, embarked on a “specialty store” approach, sort of an intensified version of the “Seven Worlds of Wards” with fewer worlds (hardware, plumbing, lawn and garden and toys were now history, according to a New York Times article). They emphasized branding this time - “The Store for Kids” was one, complete with a six-foot tall dinosaur (a little unintended symbolism there?) at the department entrance. “The Appliance Center”, “Home Ideas” and “Auto Express” were others, but the best remembered one today would have to be “Electric Ave.”, Wards’ new moniker for its home electronics department. Not sure what it did for Wards, but no doubt it extended Eddy Grant’s fame by a few years. There were also some unusual joint real-estate ventures – when the company renovated its Gaithersburg, Maryland store, for example, it leased 30 percent of the store’s space to Toys R Us.

Throughout this period, Montgomery Ward’s financial condition continued to improve, firmly convincing Mobil that the time was right to sell. The leading contender, according to Times business columnist Isadore Barmash in a January 1988 article, was Wards’ own management, led by chairman Bernard Brennan. As it turned out, Brennan, who was credited with the company’s sustained prosperity, was a friend of Jack Welch, the legendary chairman of General Electric Company. Welch spearheaded GE’s purchase of RCA (and its television network subsidiary NBC) and moved the company into financial services in a huge way through their GE Capital division, among many other accomplishments. As long as Brennan remained at Montgomery Ward’s helm, the prospects of a GE-financed management buyout were golden. On March 7, 1988, the sale was completed for $3.8 billion.

Through the 1990’s, unfortunately, the company steadily lost focus (and money), and by the end of the decade it was clear to all that the wheels were off the thing. One bad decision followed another – a re-entry into the catalog business through a joint venture with Fingerhut, 1991. A buyout of troubled electronics chain Lechmere, 1994. A 19.6% stake in doomed furniture chain Levitz, 1995. Buying Amoco Motor Club, 1996. The cherry on top came in a May 21, 1996 New York Times article – “Montgomery Ward May Consider Selling Its Retail Stores”. The Montgomery Ward stores, that is. No one was interested in the chain itself, which was understandable considering its dismal performance, although the article mentioned a likely willingness by Sears to snap up Wards’ better store locations.

In July 1997, under the weight of heavy losses and looming debt, and despite cash infusions from GE Capital along the way, Montgomery Ward declared bankruptcy. In November of that year, 47 stores were closed, with more to follow, sadly. In 1999, another new logo was rolled out, but by that time a majority of the buying public had written Wards off, and with the chain’s reduced store base of 250 units, it was an option for fewer and fewer shoppers anyway.

On December 28, 2000, after 128 years in business, Montgomery Ward closed its doors for the last time. The eulogies poured in, highlighting the key moments in Wards history- an integral part of America’s own. There was even a spot on the New York Times editorial page, a rare honor for a retailer.

It has often been said that Wards never really recovered from its voluntary period of stagnation in the 1940’s and 50’s. That the chain fell behind its competitors and permanently lost its standing with the American buying public, despite efforts great and small over the following decades. I tend to agree with this view, to a point. But I also know, from my own personal experience and that of others as expressed on this website and in conversations, that many of us have cherished memories of shopping at Montgomery Ward. For us, in that time and place, it mattered.

The photos above are various publicity shots from Wards’ Mobil-ownership period, mostly from 1974, locations unknown. (Thanks to readers Scott and Kenney for identifying the Wards store pictured in the third photo as the South Park Mall location in Shreveport, Lousiana. The mall has since closed and now houses the Summer Grove Baptist Church. The mall's JCPenney store is now the main sanctuary and the Wards store is a cinema venue for Christian themed-movies. Thanks again to you both for this update!) The last photo depicts the Richardson Square Mall (Dallas area) location, which opened in July 1977. Below, a typical Jefferson Ward store from 1980 and a “new look” Wards (ahem, Montgomery Ward) interior entrance circa 1985.
Thanks for everyone’s patience through this long stretch between posts. Yes, I’ve been busy, but your loyal readership means a lot to me, and I hate letting you down. After all, to paraphrase the Wards guy, it’s not the Pleasant(ness) or even the Shopping that gives us distinction, it’s the Family!

Thursday, September 30, 2010

"Have A Nice Day" at Wards!

“Like, wow, Montgomery Ward!” read the headline in a March 1970 Business Week article. The article chronicled Wards’ quest for relevance with the coveted 18 to 34 age bracket, and by all appearances they were starting to break through. These efforts encompassed both of Wards’ main lines of business – the legendary catalog and the (now almost exclusively mall-based) stores.

On the catalog side, Wards’ management took a bold step, shoving aside their standard phone book-sized biannual catalog to issue a special 75-page fashion-only edition aimed at the young adult market. The company bypassed their staff copywriters in favor of an outside advertising agency (sparking a minor mutiny that unfortunately reached the press) and photography by Victor Skrebneski, the world famous Chicago-based fashion photographer. The catalog, with pages “crowded with flower-generation youths and pearly-toothed girls facing front and looking ‘now’”, featured the following opening text as quoted by Business Week: “There’s never been a generation like this one before…This generation wants something different out of life. And it’s going to get it.” (Looks like I’m not the only one who likes to begin sentences with “and.”) In Chicago, Wards took the expensive step of introducing the catalog in a 90-minute TV special that would feature “a lot of skin” according to a beaming Skrebneski. The catalog was an unprecedented success, with 50 percent of orders coming in to Wards via direct mail versus the normal 15 percent. “…about half the sales (were) in women’s fashions, predominantly sportswear.”

This was coupled with a hip new approach to store merchandising, perhaps nowhere more so than the “glossy new chrome-and-Day Glo boutique” Wards opened in Sandburg Village, “a multi-stewardessed, young-executived apartment complex on the Near North Side”. (I guess the proper term today would be “multi-flight attendanted.”) Sandburg Village, a set of nine massive, modern high-rise apartment buildings that opened in 1963, had a somewhat controversial origin. A high-profile urban renewal project for which blocks upon blocks of old buildings were leveled (the entire expanse between Clark, LaSalle and Division streets and North Avenue), the goal of Sandburg Village was to stem the flow of middle-class residents to the suburbs. Although many of the buildings demolished to make way for the complex would today be candidates for historic preservation, Sandburg Village is looked back upon as an important factor in the city’s “hoped-for revitalization”, as author J. Linn Allen put it. In the early 70’s Sandburg Village was the epitome of Chicago trendiness, and I can remember my parents taking us to their huge annual outdoor art fair on a couple of occasions. I’d like to think that I looked at the various art pieces and thought “Hmm, I wonder if these are Miró or Braque-inspired?”, though undoubtedly it was more along the lines of “When do we eat?” Veering back on topic, the Sandburg Wards unit, with its hot fashions and “psychedelic light displays” was another success.

The new look was not restricted to a handful of special units, but was soon rolled out nationwide. By 1972 many stores sported the Wards equivalent of rainbows, sunrises and smiley faces. These changes coincided with a new type of store construction that Wards termed the “modular” format. These stores, the first of which opened in Rockford, Illinois in 1970, were built using a special process of prestressed concrete (manufactured by a subsidiary of Wards) that cut the construction time of a typical Wards store in half, according to a November 1970 Business Week article. With somewhat smaller square footage than the huge stores the company had been building, large appliances and other items such as riding lawn mowers were displayed as floor models, with customer purchases shipping out from a centralized warehouse instead of the store. Fifteen “modular” stores were opened in 1970, with plans for 24 more in 1971 and 30 more in 1972. Certainly this was an important development in Montgomery Ward’s race to compete with Sears and JCPenney.

1972 also saw the celebration of Wards’ 100th Anniversary and the kickoff of the “Century 2” advertising campaign, a year-long series of special promotions that met with brutal price competition from Sears and Penneys. As expected, the occasion called for a commemorative book, but in Wards’ case, two books saw the light of day. The first, entitled “1872-1972: A Century of Serving Consumers – The Story of Montgomery Ward”, was a nice bit of puffery, a slim softcover book filled with sepia-toned photographs, “official version” history and an optimistic eye toward the future. The second, far more interesting, book was “Satisfaction Guaranteed: An Unconventional Report to Today's Consumers” by freelance writer Booton Herndon. Over a two-year period, Herndon was given up-close access to Wards’ top executives, but also spent a great deal of time in the trenches with middle managers, store employees and customers. The resulting 300-page book, described by Business Week as “an unabashed defense of mass merchandising at a time when business (was) taking its lumps from consumerists”, was a brutally frank look at the business, the challenges it faced, and the sea change in consumer mentality that characterized the early 70’s. Filled with surprisingly candid revelations and occasional salty language, it proved to be a bit more than Wards executives bargained for, and certainly wasn’t what one would expect from a commissioned book. Entertainingly written, it’s one of my all-time favorites in the field.

“Century 2” got off to a roaring start for Wards, who racked up the strongest sales figures (and a 45% increase in earnings) in their history in 1973. The painful, 15 year-long process of rebuilding the company finally began to pay off. For the first time, every one of the company’s 22 metropolitan districts posted a profit. The smiley faces, rainbows and sunrises took residence in the Montgomery Ward boardroom, however, when the big news rolled in – Wards’ smashing performance as compared to their two main rivals. Wards’ sales for the year were up 22 percent compared to Sears 12 percent, and the all-important Christmas sales figures that year reflected double the sales gain over both Sears and JCPenney. Wards president Ed Donnell tipped his hand in a June 1974 Newsweek article – “…we’re not out to catch Sears or Penney, (but) we will certainly narrow the gap…Our goal is to be held in high esteem by our competitors and our customers.”

At first, the wording of Donnell’s statement (listing “competitors” first) struck me as a bit odd, but in light of one of the article’s other points it makes sense. Montgomery Ward was now in the enviable (and for them, unusual) position of being an attractive prospect for high-profile shopping center projects, even those developed by direct competitors. Only a few years back, they were frequently spurned “because of (their) reputation for cheap goods and stodgy merchandising,” according to Newsweek. Clearly, Wards’ “increased esteem” amongst their competitors was opening new doors of opportunity.

As it turned out, shopping center developers weren’t the only ones attracted by Wards’ recent triumphs. In 1973, Mobil Oil Corporation, America’s third largest oil company (behind Exxon and Texaco) and 7th largest company overall, began to secretly acquire the common stock of Marcor, Montgomery Ward’s parent company. Within months, Mobil had amassed nearly five percent of Marcor’s stock, and were hungry for much more. Sunrises, smiley faces and rainbows weren’t part of their game plan.

These publicity photos are from 1972, that most 70’s-ish of years. (I tend to look back at the 70’s as having three distinct eras – the early 70’s were the “real seventies”, the mid-70’s were the “nondescript but the Bicentennial was cool and comic books were still 25 cents” era, and the late 70’s were “the era that should be renamed the ‘Pre-80’s’”. Glad I could help sort this out for you!)Top to bottom, they feature a typical in-mall store entrance and the sportswear department, “The Chain”, a casual menswear department (reportedly a favorite of Lindsey Buckingham), a hip juniors department entitled “Reflections” (With a sign typeface known to graphic designers as Peignot and to the rest of us as “that Mary Tyler Moore font”.) Next up is “Tiny World” (Are they mannequins or real children? Aaiiiee!!) Then, the canary-yellow “Party Papers” stationery department. (I mean the department decor is canary yellow, not the stationery itself. Well, some of it might have been… but I think you know what I’m trying to say.) After that, a very colorful small appliance area, the obligatory shag carpet headquarters, and the large appliance department, filled with shades of Harvest Gold and Wheat. The outdoor power department is next, from an era when lawn tractors looked like… tractors. After that, a barbecue grill display. I’m not sure that putting a plant on top of a grill is a great idea, unless you’re trying to dry it out. Oh, you’re right, this was the seventies. Lastly, the furniture department, arranged in tasteful living room groupings. But taste is an individual thing, I guess…