See you at the company picnic

Until recently Hanes Knitwear in Galax was this area's largest employer. There were few families who didn't have a relative working there. I doubt anyone in this county paid full price for their underwear because their relatives could get them at an employee discount from the Hanes factory store. The local Hanes made T-shirts. Brand loyalty in this area was mighty fierce.

When printed T-shirts were sold at the Hillsville Flea Market the vendor had darned well better be using Hanes T-shirts. If not they did not get bought. I saw many people look at the label before they looked at the design. Fruit-of-the Loom was not welcome, no matter how cute their mascots.

There was also a great connection with Hanes through their market saturation. Hane's ruled the underwear market. Everyone seemed proud that a global brand was produced in their own backyard. The influence of Hanes products inundated our daily lives. Who can forget the Hanes underwear commercial slogan, "Boy, do I feel good all under." That line got me a LOT of mileage in elementary school.

But what I recall most was company loyalty. A sense of pre-NAFTA camaraderie. The company picnics were spectacular.

They pulled out all stops to make their company picnic an event to remember. They even had brand-name musical performers headlining. Country star Johnny Rodriguez was the guest star one year. He put on a great show and was very kind and patient in giving everyone an autograph.

One time they hired Tex-Mex crooner Freddy Fender. He had gone from "Wasted Days and Wasted Nights" to apparently wasting his time in jerkwater towns doing greatest hits gigs for the local yokels. He was not pleased with his lot in life and it showed. He couldn't have been less enthused if he had been asked to sweep up the parking lot afterwards.

I think back fondly on my first Hanes picnic. The game booths, the rides, the endless dispensaries of foodstuffs. My mother, a training supervisor, had to man a booth so she dropped me off in the middle of it all and said, " Have fun."

"But I don't have any money," I whined.

She gave me The Look and said "Sweetie, everything's free."

I gasped, "EVEN AT THE ICE CREAM TRUCK?"

Oh, yes. Even at the ice cream truck. My faith in God was reinforced with every Eskimo Pie they freely handed over. BBQ, hamburgers ... squares of chocolate cake with little American flags in the center. They were there for the taking and take I did.

They made sure us kids had a good time. They had sack races and a sawdust pile full of money. Karate experts gave board-breaking demonstrations. Volleyball and baseball games ensued. On that sunny day, labor and management seemed identical. I was aware of the difference only when my mother introduced me to the plant manager with the whispered admonition, "Don't try to be a comedian."

I guess companies still do things like this but you rarely hear about it. If local factories make it another week without Asian imports forcing a layoff -- THERE'S the reason to celebrate. I can hear the bossman now: "Guess what. You get to work for one more week. Picnic? Take a sack lunch out to your Datsun and have at it, big guy.