Diving into the Deep End

Armstrong World Industries was forced to open a mineral wool plant, in response to the loss of a critical supplier of this vital raw material for ceiling tile manufacture. Because of this, they relied on more outside vendors to design and build the plant than they were comfortable with. They had never spun molten stone (slag) into fibers before and therefore couldn’t use their experience to reduce the potential for errors and inefficiencies in their process.

The plant started up late, over the capital budget, and at greatly lower performance than required to meet the demand of the ceiling tile plants in the network. Things got so bad that management was shuffled, project team members were removed, and highest-level management was getting involved on a daily basis.

I was “asked” to help the plant achieve budget performance. Knowing this was a politically charged situation and that people who were involved were under intense scrutiny, I convinced my manager to let me visit the facility before committing to the work.

I spent three days at the plant, getting to know the workers, managers, and the process. What I saw was a very concerned and engaged workforce, committed managers, and a process that was absolutely horrible to run. How did we get here, I wondered. I knew I couldn’t fix the past. All I could do was try to improve the future.

There were so many problems, but we identified the biggest one that was causing significant safety, quality, and productivity risk. The molten slag (rock with metal components in it) was designed to fall into a pit and then be scooped up and delivered into a bin. If the slag hit any moisture, it would superheat the water and cause small explosions within the confines of the building. And, the pit was exposed to the outside elements, which naturally allowed moisture in. Another issue was that the front-end loader used to scoop up the molten slag barely fit between the walls of the pit. I saw evidence of damage to the walls of the plant that was less than one-year old. Someday, someone was going to hit a wall with such force that the entire structure would come down.

I spoke with my sponsors and told them incremental improvement wasn’t going to help. We had to figure out a way to keep the slag from falling into the pit in the first place, eliminating the moisture and equipment issue. They looked at me in a way that felt like, “Well, duh, but how the heck can we do that?” I suggested we run a Production Preparation Process (3P) Kaizen in order to tease out and develop breakthroughsolutions to this problem. 3P is the most challenging kaizen event I facilitate. It forces structured minds to get unstructured, go to their childhood mindset (an 8-year-old can solve any problem) and use nature’s influence for ideas. Many engineers and scientists find this difficult to participate in, but their input is essential.

A month later, we assembled a team of operators, managers, engineers, and outside vendors to take the 11-step creativity journey that happens during a one-week 3P Kaizen. We framed the problem in this way: Deliver the molten slag directly to the process without any outside intervention by equipment or the environment. Initial skepticism gave way to creativity, and by the second day, everyone was in it to win it.

By the end of the week, there were two practical solutions for the business to choose from. Both looked promising and reasonably priced, and in the months that followed, one was implemented. From then on, molten slag never hit moisture and the building walls were spared further damage.

More impressive was the feeling of engagement, teamwork, and pride  permeating the workforce. They solved the problem, participated fullyand even identified other possible Kaizen events to run in the future.

The plant is still operating and is now the benchmark in the mineral wool industry. Armstrong was able to produce more mineral wool than internally necessary and then sell the wool to other companies. The workforce is highly engaged and continues to drive improvement on a daily basis.

I was amazed by the feedback of the team, who took on a monumental task and slayed their dragon. To a person, they were positively inspired by the effort and ready to take on the next challenges.

Not Everyone Thinks the Same

I’m an engineer. Please don’t hold that against me. I’d like to believe I think logically, solving problems in a scientific way. I was taught this way as I was growing up. I assumed everyone else thinks this way. How wrong I was!

My first job out of college was as an Industrial Engineer for Thomasville Furniture. After many job changes and promotions within Armstrong, I ended up as a Senior Industrial Engineer at the corporate office in Lancaster PA.

I was having a lot of success helping teams solve critical manufacturing problems all over the world, using my own brand of facilitation techniques. Feedback on my approach was mostly positive, but there were some who thought I was a bit heavy-handed and not listening to team members as much as I should.

Our project managers were all required to attend a problem solving and facilitation course in Buffalo NY. It was highly regarded. My boss thought it would be a good idea for me to attend. I was happy to have the opportunity, and it also sounded like a nice week away from the office.

On the first day of the course, 25 people sat at tables of 4 or 5 and introduced themselves. We were told we would learn dozens of problem-solving and facilitation techniques. Before we did, we had to understand how people think. That seemed reasonable. But didn’t everyone think in a logical, straight-line way, like me?

We were instructed to draw a picture illustrating how we solve a problem. After we had a few minutes to complete our task, we were asked to share our results with others at our table. Being the logical engineer, I drew a series of boxes and arrows showing the steps I took from problem identification to resolution. It was essentially a straight line and made a lot of sense to me.

When I reviewed my process with the group, a few looked at my picture with concern in their eyes. Then, one member of the group showed her drawing. It looked like a dust cloud, with an unhappy face on one side and a sunny day on the other side. She described how when a problem comes to her, she goes to a dark place to think until the answer presents itself on the other side, which made her happy.

This couldn’t be a more opposite approach to mine. But it was hers. It’s how she dealt with problems and it worked for her. I realized for possibly the first time that not everyone thinks like I do. I now knew the purpose of the exercise. We can’t assume everyone thinks in the same way. If we do, we won’t be sensitive to their needs and therefore can’t help them through our facilitation efforts.

I became more open to learning as many different facilitation and problem-solving techniques as I could possibly use. Having a full arsenal allows me to modify my approach to the needs of the people I am working with. This simple exercise opened my eyes to the obvious. I’d like to think it made me a better facilitator and someone who can help anyone solve problems.

One Size Doesn’t Fit All

Early in my career, I worked at Thomasville Furniture. I supported the veneering operations. We were building a new plant for the plywood pressing operations. I was asked to design and purchase a storage system for the heavy wood blocks that were used to create shaped plywood in a special press.

I had two critical problems to solve:

1.      Improve the organization of the blocks and make them easy to find.

2.      Reduce the effort and safety risk of moving the blocks into and out of the press.

In the existing veneer plant, the blocks were stored on pallets on the floor. When needed, they were carried to the press and slid into place. The blocks weighed 40 to 400 pounds. The heaviest block was used to create bed canopies. All other blocks weighed 100 pounds or less. One person carried the lighter blocks to the press. Four people carried the bed canopy blocks. Clearly this wasn’t a safe practice. I knew I could improve this situation.

The first thing I did was follow the process in the old plant. I walked with the operators and helped them carry blocks to the press. They were heavy, bulky and difficult to transport safely. They were stored all over the plant. Finding them often took more time than carrying and sliding them into the press.

I was given a set amount of space in the new plant. I wanted to design a rack system to store blocks in any location on the rack, to allow for flexibility. I quickly realized that if I did this, I would need a rack that was five times bigger than the space I was given. What could I do, I wondered?

Then I had an idea: create a special rack location for the heaviest block. This location would have rollers to make it easier to move the block into and out of the rack. The rest of the shelves in the rack had wire decking which was more than adequate to safely slide the lighter blocks into and out of the rack. Using this concept, I was able to store all of the blocks into the allocated space.

Now I needed to create a system to safely move the blocks from the rack to the press. Working with a material handling vendor, we designed a cart with rollers on it and a front plate to keep the blocks from falling off. One worker was able to take the cart to the rack, slide the block from the rack to the cart, and use the front plate to keep the block in place. Once the cart was rolled to the press, the front plate was lowered and the block was moved into the press safely and with low effort.

We established a procedure for one person to safely handle any block, except for the bed canopy block. For that, we required two people to work together. This project taught me the valuable lesson that you have to understand the full problem to be solved before coming up with a solution. One size doesn’t fit all.

The Gift of Kaizen

It was shortly after Thanksgiving, late one afternoon on a cold day in November.  I had just gotten home from what I thought was my last business trip of the year.  I was tired and wrung out from all the travel, not to mention all of the hubbub of gearing up for the holiday season with friends and family, dinners and parties, and you get the idea.  I had just sat down in my favorite comfy chair and put my feet up and closed my eyes when a call came in to the Process Improvement Partners Hotline.  The voice was deep, full of life, and familiar.  “Adam!“ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.  It was as if he knew me and somehow, I knew him.  I had spoken with him before, but I couldn’t put my finger on when and where it might have been.  “Speaking,” I said.  “This is …aah… Mr. C., we’re having some trouble at our Northern toy factory.  If we don’t get all of our orders out in December, we’re going to have some really disappointed customers.  Can you help us?” he asked.  “Of course, just tell me when you need me, Mr. C.”  He let out a big belly laugh and said, “Right now!” 

When you get an urgent call like that, you do whatever it takes to respond.  So, I packed a bag, my extra socks and my warm hat just in case, booked a flight, called an Uber, and got ready for my adventure in the North.  Twenty minutes later a long red car pulled up with the oddest-looking driver I ever saw.  He had pointy ears, said his name was Brucie, and that he would be taking me directly to the factory.  I told him I had already booked my flight, but he said I wouldn’t need it, he had a way of getting me there sooner.

We started talking and he told me how the workers had been getting behind at the factory due to more issues than they could handle.  As we talked, I felt myself drifting off to sleep.  When I woke up, I was at the North Pole.  “Holy Smokes, the North Pole!  Glad I packed my extra socks and hat, I’m going to need them,” I thought.

Assessing the Situation

Brucie took me to the Big Guy’s office.  We embraced like old friends.  He told me I was on the Naughty List for a few reasons I won’t elaborate on here.  If I could help them resolve their issues, I might wind up back on the Nice List.  I told him I would do my best, but first we would need to take a walk through his factory to see what was going on.

Brucie led the way.  It turns out he was the operations manager, and he wanted to see what I might be able to offer.  As we walked through the factory, I saw piles of work in process inventory.  I could barely see the workers themselves.  They could see me, however.  Every time I passed a worker, I would hear a giggle.  Apparently, I looked a bit out of place in their factory.  My ears weren’t pointy, I didn’t have bells on the ends of my safety shoes, and they seemed to know why I was on the Naughty List.

Brucie told me his workers were making mistakes and when they asked for help, no one could hear them, because all of the piles of inventory muffled their voices.  He also felt he needed a way to see progress during the day and assess whether or not he was on track to meet all of the orders.  The Big Guy looked concerned.  He didn’t want to disappoint any of his customers and he felt that his workers were losing hope that they would be able to complete all their work in time.

I spoke with a number of the workers on the tour.  To a person … no, to an elf, they seemed worried.  They knew they had to complete their work, but didn’t know what to do about it.  They wanted to help, but didn’t know how.  They were working as hard as they could, but just didn’t know if it would be enough to be ready for the big delivery.  There was also something somber about the atmosphere in the plant.  It seemed like elves should be having more fun doing their work, but the energy level and joy was not there.  I was hoping they weren’t considering striking.

After the tour, we sat down for a lunch of milk and cookies to discuss what could be done.  I told Brucie and the Big Guy that I could facilitate a session with 6 of the production workers, Brucie, Kittie from HR, and two maintenance workers that would solve the problem in three days.  They looked skeptical, but were willing to commit the time and resources.  This was way too important to shortcut.  We had to solve the problem.

The Kaizen Begins

The next morning, the Big Guy kicked off the session with inspiring words of encouragement and faith in his team.  He knew his team wouldn’t fail and that I would be able to help them do what needed to be done.  It’s great to have such outstanding leadership and support and also knowing that my sponsor could get me off the Naughty List.

The Big Guy left, and I spent a few hours teaching Lean principles and techniques to the team.  Instead of Power Point slides, I used Flipcharts made of taffy.   Once we finished with a sheet, I’d hand it to the team to munch on.  Elves are little, but they really like the sweet stuff.  And boy can they eat!  Early in the discussion I got some pushback from Kittie, who said, “We’ve been doing things the same way for centuries, what makes you think you can help us solve our problems with this Lean stuff?”  I assured her and the rest of the team they would look at their situation differently using Lean principles and I had confidence in their spirit, enthusiasm, and creativity.  I also told them I believed in them and knew we were going to do the right things to win.  Plus, I had to get off of the Naughty List!

After that they asked many good questions and were able to make a connection to the problems they were facing in the factory.   They realized some of these principles might help and translated some Lean terms into Elfish, so that the others in the factory would understand what we were trying to do.  We then took a walk through the factory to generate ideas to improve the situation.  The team members were really getting into it, even Kittie.  They started to understand how to apply what they learned in the classroom to their situation.  When the team returned to the meeting room, we took a break to have some hot cocoa and peppermint sticks.  I don’t normally eat like this, but it seemed like the right thing to do and it was really yummy!

After our break, the team prioritized all of their ideas into three major categories:

1.       Improve the flow of work

2.       Visual management to assess progress of the production lines

3.       Managing systems to provide help immediately to anyone who needs it

I broke the team into three sub-teams and they got to work in the afternoon.  I have worked with many Kaizen teams in my career, but I have never seen any team get as much work done in a few hours as Team Elf.  It was almost by magic. By late afternoon, each sub-team had put together some really solid work plans and were ready to implement their solutions the next morning. 

That evening, we had a team dinner at the most beautiful and coldest restaurant I had ever been to.  The Big Guy and his wife joined us, along with some of the other staff, including Dancer, Rudolph, and Olive, the other Reindeer.  During dinner we talked about all we had done that day and what we hoped to accomplish by the end of the Kaizen event.   There was much laughing and toasting.  Stories were told about me I had forgotten about from my early childhood.  How did they know about my adventures at the Rolling Stones concert or that my first-grade teacher used to love my piano playing or that her name was Mrs. Simonds? 

I must have gained ten pounds that evening, as nothing I ate could have been healthy.  After dinner, I was shown to my room for the night.  It was cozy and small, but I felt right at home.  It’s very cold at the North Pole, but there was a warm fire in the hearth.  Good thing I packed my favorite footie PJs.  After a cup of the best hot cocoa I ever had, I drifted off to sleep.  That night I dreamt about Lean Toy Delivery, figuring out ways the Big Guy could get down chimneys in a safer, more efficient manner.    

Implementing Solutions

We kicked off the morning of the second day with a few Christmas carols and other elf favorites.  Rudolph came in to see what was going on and used his nose to act as percussion.  You could feel the team’s optimism, energy, and excitement.  I reviewed some Lean concepts then set the team off into their working groups to implement their ideas.  I reminded them that it was helpful to get others’ input and even utilize their help, just in case it would be needed.  Everyone in the factory was a Kaizen team member, they just didn’t know it.   We were going to do everything possible to win.

In the middle of the morning, I noticed the “Improve Flow” team had rearranged the workstations in the factory.  Instead of one elf building hundreds of the same toy assemblies before moving it to the next elf, he or she would build one sub-assembly and pass it on to the next elf to do their part.  This improved flow, identified quality issues more quickly, and reduced the piles of inventory.  Everyone could now see each other, help each other, and hear each other.  They looked so much happier and started singing Elfish songs – the type of songs that stay in your head and can’t escape until another song takes its place.  I’m hearing one now, I kid you not!

The “Visual Management” team put together some large display boards, made out of white chocolate.  These boards showed the hourly production results with targets and actuals listed.  Each line leader was responsible to post his/her team’s results.  If they met the hourly target, they put a green spearmint candy on the board.  If they missed the hourly target, they put a red cinnamon candy on the board.  I noticed that the first time a line hit its hourly target, there was a spontaneous cheer, laughter, and dancing from the workers.  It was contagious, and I found myself dancing with them.  I hope no one filmed it and put it on their social media site, Elfbook.  It would be too embarrassing!

The “Managing Systems” team installed pull cords at all of the work stations.  If someone was falling behind or had a question, they could pull their cord and a yellow Gummy Bear light would flash at their work station.  They would get help immediately to get them back on track or answer their question.  The team also created an hourly, daily, and weekly audit to ensure everyone understood and followed the new process.  The line leader was to do the hourly audit, Brucie was to do the daily audit, and the Big Guy did the weekly audit.   They made the audit fun by giving out random treats to the workers as they walked around the factory.

By the end of the second day, I could see the team was well on their way to solving the problem and making all of their customers happy.   The team was energized and excited about what they were doing.  They had a few more things they wanted to do, but I sent them home for the evening, confident they would get it done on day three.  I went back to my room and tried to relax.  It was happening so fast and there were so many customers to serve.  Would we make it?  Would I get off of the Naughty List?

On day three, the team came in and got right to work.  They put together a training plan for all of the workers in the factory.  Instead of writing work instructions, they wrote songs to sing while the elves were working.  Each song contained the information they needed to make all of the toys in the safest, most efficient, and highest quality manner.  Elves love to sing, so this was a brilliant solution to an age-old problem.  I don’t know if my other Kaizen teams would be willing to use this method in the future, but you never know what might work.  Kittie even admitted she was impressed by the solutions of the team and really believed these improvements would work and save Christmas.

The Report Out

After filling ourselves with snickerdoodle cupcakes and chocolate milk for lunch, the team went out into the factory and presented their efforts to the rest of the elves.  The Big Guy spoke first.  He started by telling everyone what a great job they were doing and how important their efforts were to their customers.  He then gave his support to the team who had worked so hard for these three days and handed the presentation to the team.  The team reviewed and demonstrated all of the changes they had made.  Finally, they sang the songs they had written and invited the other elves to sing along.  There was a joyous sound throughout the factory as everyone started singing and following the musical work instructions.  After the singing was over, the team high-fived, hugged, danced, and clapped for each other.  The Big Guy even gave me a hug.  He could have crushed me, but I felt warm all over.  It was the nicest recognition I ever received. 

I was relieved and exhausted when it was all over and I was ready to go home.  My Uber showed up, with Brucie as driver again.  We talked about all of the great work of the team as he drove me back, and once again I drifted off to sleep.  When I woke up, I was home in my bed.  Was it all just a dream? 

On Christmas morning, I came downstairs to get breakfast and saw a candy cane taped to an envelope with my name on it on the kitchen table.  I ate the candy cane and opened the envelope.  Inside was a note that said, “Adam, thank you for your help at the factory.  We were able to make all of our deliveries this year and think we should be OK for years to come.  Love, the Big Guy.”  This was great news, but I was still wondering about one more thing.  I walked into my office and on my white board was a note that said: “And yes, you’re off the Naughty List … for now!”

Thomasville’s Frame Nailers – Taking a good idea and expanding its reach

As a young engineer at Thomasville Furniture, I was given project assignments at the discretion of my manager. He gave me ample opportunities to try out different ideas and supported my efforts. I spent many hours in our manufacturing facilities and was fascinated by the complexity of the manufacturing processes. Many of these processes were extremely labor-intensive and required great skill to accomplish. One such task was the assembly of the base frames of case goods, such as night stands, dressers, and other cabinet style products. These frames were the support structure of the furniture and had to be strong and sturdy to hold up to the years of abuse that furniture sees in its lifetime.

The process to put together a base frame starts with the cutting of the four individual frame components to the appropriate length. Then, each end of the component is cut with a miter saw at a very specific angle, 44.5 degrees. I asked a skilled saw operator why he wasn’t cutting a standard 45-degree miter. He informed me that the extra half degree allowed for the special nail, glue, and growth that typically occurs in wood when exposed to moisture.

After cutting the miter, a notch was cut at a perpendicular angle to the miter in the center of the ends of the wood. This allowed for a special joining nail to be applied to both ends of the wood. The placement of this notch was critical as well, as any deviation from the center would make the nail noticeable to the customer. Once these cuts were made, the components were brought to the assembly department. Once there, employees would apply glue to the mitered ends, nail the components together, and remove any excess glue. Then, after all components were dry, they were transferred to another department whose responsibility was to put wood putty into any gaps that might be visible in the joined mitered ends. In all, this process took 6 days from original cuts to final putty and cleanup of the frames. As many as 6 people touched the components during this process. The more I watched this process, the more I thought, “There has to be a better way to do this.”

A Simple, But Powerful Discovery

A few months later, all of the engineers at Thomasville Furniture traveled to the International Woodworking Show in Atlanta. This was my first time travelling for the company and I welcomed the opportunity to see all of the interesting machines at the show and tour Atlanta a bit. Each engineer was to look for equipment at the show that might help the plant to which he or she was assigned. The exhibition hall was gigantic and the three days we were there wasn’t enough to properly see everything. Most people liked to look at the biggest, shiniest, most complicated machines that were being displayed. I, however, was fascinated by something I saw at a little booth in an out of the way spot in the exhibition hall.

In the booth was a series of small picture frame nailing machines. They were simple little machines that seemed to be quite efficient at their task. The representative showed me how they worked. Basically, you bring two mitered ends of picture frames together in a jig that positioned them precisely, push a foot pedal, and a pressure plate came down to hold the mitered ends tightly together. Then, a corrugated nail came up from a coil below the machine and was driven into the mitered ends. He handed the assembly to me and told me to try to pull it apart. I couldn’t. Then I noticed how tight the joint was on the assembly. There was no gap, which meant that no wood putty would need to be applied.

I asked the representative if he had a machine that was designed for larger mitered components. He didn’t, but said that he thought he could modify and strengthen one of the machines to drive nails into larger pieces of wood. I asked him how soon he could have a prototype machine. He thought he could have one ready in 4 to 6 weeks. That was all the time I needed to convince one of our plants to try out this new approach. Although I saw many other interesting machines, nothing intrigued me as much as these frame nailers, as most Thomasville plants would have a use for a heavier duty model.

Being Open to a New Process

When I returned from Atlanta, I asked my supervisor which plant he recommended we test the prototype frame nailer. My thought was that if we could convince a plant to try it out, they would get an opportunity to provide input to the design and functionality of the new machine. They would also have the fastest opportunity to streamline their operation. We agreed that the case goods plant 3 miles from the corporate center was the best place to start. We called a meeting with the plant management and gained their support for this work.

Approximately 6 weeks later, a larger version of the picture frame nailer that I had seen in Atlanta arrived at the plant. Two days later, the sales technician joined to show us how to use the prototype equipment. Plant management joined us and watched as the technician joined two large mitered parts with little difficulty. It happened so fast that they wanted to see another demonstration. This time the parts didn’t go together as well as expected. It turns out that there wasn’t enough air pressure applied, and when it was quickly corrected, every part came together precisely and tightly. Everyone was amazed how easy it was and also how tight the mitered joint appeared.

A Solution With Many Applications

Soon, they realized the best benefit of all. There would be no need for applying putty to the mitered joints, as they held together so well, with no gap apparent. This was a breakthrough. But, it was also just the beginning. Then, the technician was asked if this equipment could also create a “Butt Joint.” This is an assembly of two pieces of wood that are joined at perpendicular angles, rather than at a 45 degree angle. These “Butt Joints” we used as intermediate assemblies in case goods and were also quite labor intensive. The technician thought it would be possible, but it would probably need a special jig to hold the pieces in place while the nail was delivered.

Because we were in a furniture factory, we were able to quickly create a prototype jig to try it out. Lo and behold, the two pieces of wood were joined together just as tightly as the mitered pieces. This would save more effort, labor, and time. After identifying a few more modifications, we realized that we had something that we could use in the multiple plants at Thomasville Furniture. We quickly ordered a first unit and set about determining how many others we would potentially need.

For the next six months or so, I was able to replace the old-style miter cutting and joining processes all over the company with the new frame nailing technology. I even was able to find a few more uses for the equipment, which led to more sales for the technician.

I learned a valuable lesson from this work. Sometimes you have a problem that needs a solution, other times you have a solution to a problem you don’t realize you have. You just have to be willing to look for that problem and apply the solution.