factory," Tate explained. "It was very
labor intensive then, and we were given
the jobs no one else wanted to do."
Back then, there were no unions nor
labor laws to enforce health rules. And
any kind of worker's compensation was
less than a notion. Working in the paint
shop was no picnic either; there was no
protection from toxic fumes, and no
rules or regulations concerning worker
exposure.
Remember, the federal
Environmental Protection Agency and
the Department of Labor weren't
around to address those issues.
At the time, for African Americans,
moving past back-breaking, low-pay
ing, unskilled jobs was unthinkable.
There was no Roy Roberts, an African
American who started out working on
an assembly line but retired recently as
a group vice president at General
Motors Corp. And going out and actu
ally recruiting African-American talent
didn't begin until the 1950s.
Here is a glimpse of what the auto
scene looked like during the first 60-
years of the 106-year-old U.S. auto
industry.
happened upon a photograph of sever
al suit-wearing white men who were
executives with Packard Motor Co. Also
in that photo is a similarly dressed
African American. Though his identity
is unknown, Tate explains, it is believed
that this man held some kind of man
agement job at Packard, perhaps as a
board member, manager or supervisor.
A Star On and Off The Field
Levi Jackson
Chassis Driving Percy Lee
Sometime around 1915, Percy Lee
Gardner made what many believe was
one of the first breakthroughs by an
African American into management
ranks. He was a machinist of sorts for
GM who drove Chevrolet chassis from
one location in St. Louis to a nearby
assembly plant. To be sure, this was a
highly prestigious job, one which con
veyed trust, acknowledged skill, and
required minimal supervision. Gardner
worked largely independently, and by all
appearances functioned as an entry-
level supervisor.
Not much else is known about
Gardner, other than he retired from
GM in 1952.
While Gardner was driving chassis
for Chevy, an African-American engi
neer surfaced at Buick in 1938. Not
much is known about this man either,
including his name. But his photo
turned up in a book on Buick's histo-
ly, says Tate. Other finds are similarly
inconclusive, but tend to confirm that
African Americans were in the white-
collar ranks of the auto industry during
its formative years. For example, Tate,
who is doing research for a book about
African-Americans in the auto industry.
It wasn't until the 1950s that things
began to open up for African Americans
in the "white collar" sector of the auto
industry. Levi Jackson joined Ford
Motor Co in 1950 in its urban affairs
and labor relations department. By the
time he retired in 1983, he was a vice
president.
Before joining Ford, Jackson had
already made a name for himself on the
football field. He was a star running
back at Yale who in 1949 became the
school's first black captain of the foot
ball team, just 19 months after Jackie
Robinson had broken major league
baseball's color barrier. Jackson set 13
modern-day football records and his
2,049 career rushing yards is sixth best
in Yale history. He graduated with
majors in sociology, psychology and
economics. Still, after graduating in the
top 10 percent of his class, Jackson's
employment prospects appeared limit
ed to the world of pro sports.
Jackson told reporters: "I didn't go to
college to learn to play football. But I
did go to college to get an education,
and I intend to use it." Unfortunately, a
black man with a college degree had few
opportunities in an era where blacks
were relegated to the rear of the bus in
the South and worked on often segre
gated assembly lines.
But while at Yale, Jackson got to
know fellow student and football
enthusiast William Clay Ford, one of
three grandsons of Ford founder Henry
Ford. While interviewing for a job at
Ford, Jackson noticed that the inter
viewer was indifferent and kept his feet
up on the desk. Spotting his old class
mate walking by, Jackson greeted him.
Taking notice, the interviewer suddenly
sat up straight, giving Jackson his full
attention.
Jackson was hired and worked his
way through industrial relations before
becoming personnel services manager
for the general parts division. Years ,
later, Detroit, a city then heralded as the
"model of racial integration," was
exploding during one of the most
incendiary and violent race riots in U.S.
history. It was 1967.
Not one to stand pat, Jackson sent a
10-point plan to Henry Ford II which
addressed the underlying problems of
unemployment and frustration among
young African Americans. What result
ed was the Ford Minorities Hiring
Program. Jackson devoted ten months
in 1968 to setting up and administering
it and was recognized for his efforts
with the manufacturer's highest honor,
the "Ford Citizen of the Year Award."
Jackson continued to create oppor
tunities for minorities in industrial
America, according to Ford records. For
example, he was an architect in the ere- "
ation of minority dealers and suppliers,
and he encouraged white-owned com
panies to increase minority hiring. He -
also worked to increase the size of con
tracts for minority businesses. In addi
tion, he launched a federally-financed
program to train disadvantaged individ
uals to become dealer mechanics.
Two presidents, Lyndon Johnson and
Richard Nixon, appointed him chair
man of the National Selective Service
Appeal Board. For African-American
workers inside and outside of Ford,
Jackson was looked up to as an African-
American man with power, something
that had previously been rare, if not
nonexistent, in the history of the auto
mobile industry.
Jackson died at the age of 74 on Dec.
7, 2000, but his legacy lives on in this
generation of African-American auto
executives.
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