I've owned two bikes in my entire life.
As a teen, I had a bright green Schwinn Typhoon, with two large baskets on the back for delivering the Berea News Sun. No idea what happened to it — my mother probably threw it away when I went to college.
And about 30 years ago, I bought a black Schwinn Cruiser, a transaction I recorded in my book "Complete & Utter Failure" in the chapter on the impossibility of perfection — I bought the bike, wheeled it out of the store, saw that someone had scratched the finish on the bike when affixing the screws holding on the "Schwinn Quality" plate, and took it back.
So I bike over the the post office Friday. Stop at the bookstore and Sunset Foods. I'm walking back to the bike and look at it afresh. Why? Maybe I think because I had just read about Schwinn in "Now, When I Was a Kid," a self-published memoir sent to me by its author, Dan McGuire. A nostalgic look at his Chicago childhood in the 1940s, with scatterings of business history.
"In 1895, on the near West Side of Chicago, Ignatz Schwinn and Adolph Arnold founded Arnold-Schwinn & Co," McGuire writes. "By the 1950s, one in every four U.S. bikes was built by Schwinn."
But trouble loomed, and in 1992 Schwinn declared bankruptcy. Or around the time I bought mine. I wondered if my Schwinn was made in America, or if by then Schwinns were manufactured overseas. It seemed to matter, as a point of pride. Maybe, the thought continued, there is some kind of serial number that would tell me. Maybe I could plug it into some Schwinn fan site online and find out.
I looked at the logical place for such a number, on the tubular body of the bike, and saw, in quite large letters: "MADE IN HUNGARY."
I never saw that notice before. Not in more than 30 years of riding the bike.
A reporter is supposed to be observant. Taking in his surroundings, noticing and evaluating. Yet this bit of information was right in front of me, between my legs, and I somehow never perceived it.
A reporter is supposed to be observant. Taking in his surroundings, noticing and evaluating. Yet this bit of information was right in front of me, between my legs, and I somehow never perceived it.
Maybe because it's not important. Who cares where your bike is made? Well I do, now. And Hungary is an interesting place for a bicycle to come from. Who has a Hungarian bicycle? It's not like we're inundated with Hungarian products. I wondered if it would be possible to find out how that happened.
Yes, thank you Mr. Internet.
"Talking Deals; Schwinn Is Building Bikes The U.S. Way in Hungary" is the headline on the March 22, 1990 article that Google found in a fraction of a second. The article describes a "bustling, high-ceilinged factory in Budapest" Nice.
"Talking Deals; Schwinn Is Building Bikes The U.S. Way in Hungary" is the headline on the March 22, 1990 article that Google found in a fraction of a second. The article describes a "bustling, high-ceilinged factory in Budapest" Nice.
Why there?
"In late 1988, Schwinn wanted to expand its presence on the Continent and was looking for a low-cost way to do that. At the same time, Csepel Bicycle, Hungary's largest bike manufacturer, with annual production of 200,000, was seeking a wealthy Western partner to help upgrade its operation."
A bike from Budapest. Somehow, that makes it even cooler.
I like this story for the fine literary quality and the twist near the end, but mainly for the mention of my great-grandfather. The Arnolds were my people, Adolph and his brother (who were both officers of the nascent Schwinn company). We were actually reasonably successful in meat packing; not quite Armours or Swifts, but we knew them.
ReplyDeleteThe immigration experience, then as now, was for those from the old country who had "made it" to give a hand to the newcomers. Mr. Schwinn came here with an idea of how to engineer bicycles, and, somehow, got hooked up with the Arnold family.
I'm not sure how long the association lasted - apparently after the bicycle business became successful, Mr, Schwinn bought out the Arnold brothers and went on his way. (Neil, if you ever do a column on failed meat packing companies, I'll happily tell you what happened to us in the 20th century.)
The Schwinn story is one that became a tragedy & insanity at the same time. I remember Crain's did a long article on it years ago.
ReplyDeleteThere was an in house union & they went on strike for better pay & benefits. So the fools who owned Schwinn at that time took an offer from Mississippi to move the factory there. Except the Mississippians couldn't build good bikes & they didn't sell. so Schwinn in another burst of corporate brilliance, went & contracted with Giant Bicycle of Taiwan to build bikes for them. Except those geniuses at Schwinn forgot to include a non-compete clause in their contract & Giant Bicycle decided to take all that knowledge of building bikes they learned from Schwinn & sell their own branded bikes in the US, thus wrecking Schwinn again.
After declaring bankruptcy in 1992, Schwinn has since been a sub-brand of Pacific Cycle, owned by the Dutch conglomerate, Pon Holdings.[
Another fine example of corporate idiocy. And yet so many Americans simply that corporate leaders, by dint of their exalted status, deserve to make many multiples more than the peeps who actually do the work.
DeleteI grew up with the hand-me-downs of my older cousins and brother. My first 2-wheel bike was a rusty rattle-clap. But my 2nd bike was new! It was a gift from my grandfather and Mr Schwinn. Apparently my grandfather was persuaded to join a golf charity event by some friends. He was ineligible to win prizes, but he was OK with that. He was a mediocre golfer, and went for the companionship. To his embarrassment, he scored his sole, lifetime 'hole-in-one' at the event. Mr Schwinn also played the event, and felt the achievement should be recognized with a prize anyway. He gave my grandfather new bikes for his 3 grandkids. That bike was my prized possession growing up. What a nice man!
ReplyDeleteLove this!
DeleteMy first two-wheeler was a maroon and ivory 20" Schwinn, probably from an older cousin, when I was seven. Even had a "gas tank", containing a horn that beeped, with a forn button on the side. Rode all over the neighborhood until I outgrew it.
DeleteMy father then brought home a new red 26" bike, still in the carton, but it wasn't a Schwinn. I had barely begun riding it when one of my uncles gave me his son's 1953 Schwinn "English racer" 3-speed model, and the other bike mysteriously vanished from our house...probably given away. I was ten.
Rode that Schwinn bike for miles, into Evanston and Wilmette and further up the North Shore, and even up to Great Lakes boot camp in my teens, when riding bikes had already become very uncool--if you didn't drive, you walked or rode buses. The bike stayed in my parents' basement until I was finished with college. Then they moved to Florida and it disappeared.
When I was eleven, I went to the YMCA day camp at the Leaning Tower grounds, on Touhy. The heavily-wooded property had been abandoned for two decades and was overgrown with head-high weeds. The Leaning Tower was filled with pigeon droppings and bat guano and was very unhealthful. So we were taken on quite a number of field trips. One of them was to the old Schwinn factory on N. Kildare. I remember the assembly lines and the bike frames on moving overhead chains. The place was noisy and chaotic but incredibly impressive to an eleven-year-old Schwinn rider. Everyone got a souvenir pin, a little gold-plated bicycle with wide tires. I wish I still had it.
Loved my Schwinn American (like this one: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/71/d8/06/71d806ede5e41c040e1a5d462d9758e1.jpg)—stolen from our Orland Park garage in the early ’70s.
ReplyDeleteOne beautiful summer day in1969 my father dropped me off at the local Schwinn shop near 115th and Halsted, about a mile from our house in Roseland. I plunked my life savings, $54, down on the counter, and within minutes I was riding like the wind, homeward bound, on my brand new 26" high handle barred Schwinn. It was the most beautiful shade of green I had ever seen in my life. From that day on my paper route was no longer a job, but an adventure.
ReplyDeleteHave you been to Budapest? Fantastic city! Despite the best efforts of the entrenched conservaturd right winger pols (like Drumpfy's friend Viktor Orban), Hungarians are proud of their beautiful country and cities filled with classic architecture and great history. It's affordable, it's historic, and well worth visiting.
ReplyDeleteI've had 3 bikes. The first very well could have been the grandfather of the one pictured. A hand-me-down Schwinn, probably from the '40s, made in Chicago, black with no fenders. I briefly switched to one ostensibly made by Montgomery Ward, which I purchased from a friend for 50 cents when he got a new bike. Then, circa 1985, I bought one new. A Schwinn ten-speed made in Taiwan by Giant, as referred to by Clark St. Good quality, though, as I still ride it.
ReplyDeleteBut what I really wanted when I was a kid was a lustrous "campus green" Collegiate. Too pricey, alas!
My friends mom worked at the Schwinn factory when I was in Grammer school. His dad bartended at the Como inn.
ReplyDeleteThey had nice bikes. First the stingray then a chopped version called an apple crate. His brother had a pea picker Super fancy with gears and a handbrake.
I had a real piece of junk that was my uncle's when he was a kid.
Just falling apart dangerous.
Rode that thing to the lake and back to the west side . The handle bars had to be twisted sideways to keep from spinning around.
My mom started dating a guy I thought was a real jerk til one day he bought me a French road racing bike an orange Gitane. $160.00 Had it for 30 years even got it back after it was stolen .
Miss riding a bike. Can't no more. Long covid
In 1972 I was discharged from the Navy, Treasure island in San Francisco Bay. Tested 3 models in a Berkeley bike shop. The $99 Schwinn was unimpressive. The $109 Schwinn was an improvement but not even close to the smooth ride of a $119 Peugeot. It was lighter, I was told, but also light years ahead of my home town company's product.
ReplyDeleteI bought a Peugeot at that price in 1972. Wore it out over a period of 39 years. Best bike I've ever owned.
Delete