Johnson Woolens
Not Just for Icemen Anymore
By Nadenia Newkirk
The day was drenched in a downpour as we snaked our way north through the verdent Route 15 countryside, past Jericho, the home of Snowflake Bentley, and eight miles north of Mt. Mansfield, arriving at Johnson, Vermont's home of "investment clothing" (so called by one satisfied customer). There Johnson Woolen Mills produces clothing with people, rather than the often-fickle fashion industry, in mind.
The red and black plaid wool hunting coat or the sturdy, grey iceman's pants, for example, are classic Johnson clothing which have been produced here since the 30s. Johnson clothing is famous for durability. The price is reasonable and, by God, the garment holds up for years and keeps looking good.
Johnson Woolen Mills, one of Vermont' oldest indigenous industries, was established in 1842, its roots in a time when Vermont was a great sheep raising state and every town had its own woolen mill to which the farmers brought their wool to be woven into cloth. By the turn of the century, about the time the mill began to produce finished clothing as well as fabric, domestic wool had to be supplemented with imported, as the sheep era had passed.
The wool product in the early 1900s, according to a 1924 history, was the same sturdy stuff made in the early days: "strictly and most effectively adapted to the winter climate of Northern Vermont, to the needs of the lumbermen and farmers, when the earth is deeply covered by snow."
One style of cloth, a weave claimed to be waterproof, was made "especially for icemen."
Today Robert Barrows, now in his 70s, is Johnson Woolen Mill corporation president, while his son, Del, manages the company's day to day affairs. It was D.A. Barrows, Del's grandfather, who bought the company from I.L. Pearl in 1908.
You don't have to brave the elements on a trip to Johnson to find Johnson wool products, since they are available throughout Vermont and other New England areas as well as by mail order in catalogues such as L.L. Bean, or direct mail from the factory. But a visit to the salesroom or the factory itself, where 30 skilled workers turn out 1500 to 2000 garments per week, is a worthwhile experience.
Your average factory of any kind has a tendency to impersonalize and become oppressive, but the operation in Johnson is no average factory, a fact undoubtedly appreciated by the workers.
Yards and yards of rich, colorful wool fabric are cut on long, wide tables. The rooms are bright, the machine noise bearable, and late model equipment makes stitching more efficient, the work was consistently precise. Finally, if any mistakes have slipped by the first lines of defense, quality controller Bertha Sheltra, at the inevitable end of the line, goes over every garment with a fine pair of thread-snipping scissors and a sharp eye. Aware of the flack she may receive if a dud slips by still, she evidently proud of the responsibility she bears.
All of which brings us to the factory salesroom, originally opened 20 years ago to cater to Johnson State College students. Johnson-made product are for sale -- the pants, jackets, shirts, for adults and children, along with blankets, scarves, hats, mittens and other mostly wool clothing from different manufacturers, plus souvenir cards and maple sugar candy, all to meet the needs of expectant tourists form all over the country. The place, with its Teddy Roosevelt era memorabilia on the walls, is a particularly popular stopping place for hunters during the fall hunting season.
The Johnson trademark has been dependability: No fancy new line of styles to be trotted out every time the season changes; even zipper placement remains the same. Occassionally new patterns are tried, such as a ladies' cape made from the same durable plaid fabric. If a youngster, had bought a coat 15 or 20 years ago, he or she could go in today and find the same plaid, same style, in the adult size.
Del Barrows makes jokes with customers about having to send them moths to necessitate their reinvesting in Johnson wool clothes. But he is the first to admit that Johnson Woolen Mill products have not been immune to the general decline in product quality throughout the country and the world. He brings out a pair of World War II vintage iceman's pants and places them next to the current model in the salesroom A brief fingering of the two proves his point. The old timers can tell right away, he says.
Aside from rising prices of both material and labor, there is no longer any real demand for the nearly indestructable woolen weave which protected the likes of old time lumbermen, and icemen. Compare, however, the current Johnson Woolen Mill product with others of it genre and the traditional Vermont product is still probably the best investment.
-- 1979
