Producing screw machine parts opened many doors for W.R. Wisecarver & Company.  The United States government soon found out about us and our machinery, and contracted with me to produce wheel bushings for the Nike Missile project.  The part required grooves that were difficult to machine, but I figured out a way to do it quickly and inexpensively.

Another important client was Ray Bishop, a salesman who sold bread trays.  Ray used my screw machine parts for a product that secured bread trays during transport.  He also asked me to help design an improved version of this product.  The result was the Saf-T-Sta, a cargo bar that streamlined the loading and unloading of delivery trucks.  Saf-T-Sta later became the standard of the industry.

Ray then asked me to start work on a specialized bread tray known as the Fol-Carri.  It was this proposition that launched W.R. Wisecarver & Company into the manufacturing business.  I went from a crew of just a few people to a crew of more than 30.  It was a huge growth spurt, and it all happened overnight.

We quickly outgrew our 4,000 square foot Cowell space and began looking for a bigger building.  I met a realtor who offered me more than double the space at Camp Stoneman, a Pittsburg, California military staging area, which was now closed and up for grabs.  The price was right, and with four buildings, there was room to grow. 

We moved into one of those buildings, but with the Fol-Carri line taking off, we soon occupied the adjacent buildings as well.  W.R. Wisecarver & Company had become the largest machine shop in Easy County, and the largest “general jobbing” shop.  People who needed products designed and built came to us, and I often performed outside repairs on machinery for major corporations across the region.

During the early 1960’s, I manufactured all the products Ray sold.  Ray and I decided to merge our companies in 1967, and Bishop-Wisecarver Corporation was born.  For the first eight years, bread trays and Saf-T-Sta cargo bars were our main product lines.

Next, DualVee joins the mix.

Part 1        Part 2        Part 3        Part 4

We frequently get requests for custom grease for high/low temperature, wash down environments, or food applications, or we can provide wheels completely dry for applications like medical devices where the possibility of contamination is an issue.  We can accommodate custom bearing or seal materials, single row bearings (vs. our standard double-row), or even a custom vee other than our typical DualVee 90 degree design.  Specialty bearings to fit most any specification are possible.

I was now a married man, with a family to support.  I soon found found a friend who was building a screw machine business.  He had more orders than he could fill, so I stepped in to help, running a small screw machine business out of my basement.  It was a family affair, and my wife Judy learned to run the machine too.  She earned enough money to buy her first washing machine by making screw machine parts while the kids were napping.

One day, a policeman knocked on the door and informed me that I couldn’t operate the business in a residential area.  So, with the help of a neighborhood boy, I moved my business to Cowell, a cement manufacturing town that later became a part of Concord, CA.  The move took all weekend, and we were up and running on Monday morning.

Moving out to Cowell was the best move I ever made.  I was one of the first tenants, but many others arrived shortly after, and they all needed what I had to offer.  The move provided the business and space to grow.

The early days were a challenge.  I worked long hours to build a clientele and support my family. When you start any business, you have to be aware of the extra time and effort it will require, and as my wife says, “whoever is running the household better know how to do it on a shoestring”.

Next time, I’ll tell you about meeting an important client, and eventually, my partner, Ray Bishop.

Part 1        Part 2        Part 3     

During the autumn months of 1950, I started my first business in an Oakland, CA noodle plant that had been confiscated from its Japanese owner during WWII.  I called this company W.R. Wisecarver & Company.  Rent was cheap back then, and the building had everything I needed; space for a small office, and a loading dock.  Here, I continued fabricating truck accessories, and met two men who would help me write the first chapter of my business success.

First, I met a wealthy realtor who asked me to help build a Class K Runabout, known today as a cigarette boat.  The realtor also owned a local venetian blind company that painted blind strips.  Despite the company’s government contracts, it wasn’t profitable.  The realtor sold his venetian blind company to another businessman, who offered me a job re-building the plant to bring it up to modern standards.  I was 22 at the time.

The slat mill operated 6 hours a day and employed six people.  From the freight area to packaging to shipping, I knew there was a better way, and I set off redesiging the plant piece by piece.  I added a second oven and plant efficiency doubled.  Three years later, the plant was running 24 hours per day with the same number of people.  But now that the mill was running at full capacity, I was out of a job.

In Part 4, I’ll tell you about my “best move”.

Part 1          Part 2

- - Bud - -

For Part 1 of my story, see my post on July 6, 2006 

I finished high school early, and soon after, enlisted in the Marine Corps along with my two closest friends.  The three of us went through boot camp together.  Later we were rated highest in our platoon in mechanical aptitude, and were sent to the Electronic Engineering and Radio Maintenance School in Chicago, Il., where we honed our electronics skills.

I was discharged from the Marine Corps in 1947, and soon after, I began taking classes at the College of the Pacific, now known as the University of the Pacific.  There, in the leafy city of Stockton, Ca., I immersed myself in zoology and the natural sciences.  On weekends, I returned home to Berkeley, where I earned money working for a local machinist and a truck body fabricator.

At the fabricator’s shop, I created a number of accessories for the trucks, including folding dollies and loading ramps, and earned a reputation as an “innovator”.  When the money from my GI bill ran out, I left school and approached the owner of the fabricator shop for a full time job.  But a full time job meant that I would have to join the union, a prospect I had little interest in.  I told the owner I was planning to open my own shop - he pulled out his wallet and said, “how much do you need?”.

Tune in next week for more . . . 

- - Bud - -

For almost 80 years, my life has been all about motion and innovation, and figuring out how an industry can work more efficiently. There’s not much I haven’t seen, and I love a good challenge. So, give me your toughest problem - just click on the “comments” link below.

- - Bud - -

Even as a child, I had a knack for inventing. Born and raised in Berkeley, Calif., I spent much of my youth in the family garage building coasters, electric bicycles and other vehicles, including a 6-foot-long race car with a Jeep engine.

During these early days, motion became a prominent theme in my life. While still in high school, I built three cars using both abandoned parts, and parts I built myself. 

My mother, who had served as a nurse during World War I, was an editor and typesetter. My father was an attorney. Both well-educated and talented, they were not too happy that I was turning out to be a gifted mechanic. Hoping I would find another niche in life, my parents sent me to private school in 1943.

Come back next week to find out what happened next.

- - Bud - -