Final whistle at Corelle plant
A 132-year tradition of glassmaking in Charleroi ended Friday
At noon, a sound so familiar signaled the end of a chapter. When that whistle filled the air, it fortified a legacy that built the Magic City.
For 132 seconds, the deep, low vibrato 
As it echoed through the peaks and valleys, it was made clear the legacy it stood for was much less simple.
While the whistle blew for a little more than two minutes, it sealed an everlasting echo — carrying memories of the town it built.
Employees, family and friends mourned the loss of the plant as they gathered to support one another.
They mourned a legacy firmly built within the constraints of borough limits that stretches even further through their own families. Blood, water or glass, family ties run deep.
That came to a heart-wrenching close at noon Friday as the sound of the whistle filled the air, a sound thousands of residents throughout the decades used to tell time and set their watches by.
People tightly squeezed each other’s hands, warmly hugged and wiped tears from their eyes. An American flag that has been hanging at half staff was removed from the plant grounds.
Cliff Donaldson, one of the company’s most senior employees, had the distinction of sounding the whistle for the last time.
Daniele Byrne, vice president of Corelle Brands Charleroi Division of United Steelworkers Local 53G, cried as she held one of the last pieces of Pyrex glass pulled from the press.
Nearby, the furnaces were being shut down.
Her words, and those from her colleague and long-time employee Tony Pane, highlighted the camaraderie and the emotional toll the closure has taken on the entire community.
“You might not be able to see it (the whistle) from here, but you’ll here it plain as day, just like I did growing up as a little girl two streets up from here,” she sobbed.
Pane has been an engineer at the plant for 36 years.
He took a job there after graduating from Pitt and never looked back — like so many others who found a home away from home within the walls of the factory.
He held one of the last measuring cups made at the plant as he explained the significance of the whistle before it blew for the last time.
The company stopped sounding the whistle 20 years ago, but for so many people it’s a sound that continues to ring in their memories.
When Pane knew the last day of production — originally set for Feb. 14 — was fast approaching, he wanted to find a way to commemorate the legacy of the plant.
After some research, Pane found a local resident who had an old whistle from the plant.
Dana Dolfi of Monongahela has become known as the inventor of the Great American Horn Machine.
It’s a three-ton, red, white and blue collection of horns and steam whistles, all set atop a car trailer.
One of the whistles on the car happened to be from the glass plant.
After hearing of the project, Dolfi offered to remove the whistle from his car and lend it to Pane and other workers to have it temporarily reinstalled.
“It has rung every day at noon, and many of our employees have written different notes in a log book that will go, along with other things, into a time capsule that will be opened in 100 years,” Pane said.
The old flag, which has flown at half staff since early September when employees were told the factory would shut down, will be nestled along those artifacts and memorabilia that have been collected from residents and workers.
On Friday, it was replaced with a new custom flag raised to full staff in the plant’s honor.
“We lowered this flag to half staff with heavy hearts when we received the news this plant would close,” Pane said. “Today, I stand here shedding tears over the loss of our factory, that has been under my watch.
“About 107 years ago, a flag ceremony was held right where we are standing to recognize this factory for its contributions of glass that helped win World War I.”
A memorial that sits near the flag pole honors past employees who lost their lives fighting in World War II.
“We have ensured our legacy,” Pane said. “Our stories are woven into every kitchen in America. This appraisal I hold in my hand from 1925 values this plant at $2.5 million. That’s a stark reminder that while this does hold monetary value, its true worth is immeasurable. This place here, is priceless.”
Thousands of employees built their lives and legacies there over the course of more than a century.
Employees, whether on their own or from watching others, learned the importance of a hard day’s work at the factory.
It solidified values instilled by their parents and grandparents, character traits proudly passed on to through generations.
“This plant has built cherished memories, the bonds we have formed, the friendships we have seen blossom and the sense of belonging that we all share will remain in our hearts forever,” Pane said.
It’s been a rough, highly emotional roller coaster for employees and the community over the past several months.
Employees of the factory found out from Anchor Hocking on Sept. 4 that the facility was slated to close and move operations to Lancaster, Ohio.
The first round of layoffs was set to start Dec. 9.
Anchor Hocking eventually delayed the start date of layoffs until Jan. 27. Production was pushed back again until Feb. 14 when employees were informed one final time that production would temporarily continue for at least a few more months.
The last day of production was planned Friday, and this time there was no extension.
Over the past three days, as shifts staggered, nearly 100 workers clocked in and out for the last time.
About 70 employees remain, and they will complete their last shifts in the coming weeks. By June 2, only two union employees will remain.
The plant has been dismantled over the past few months. The 111 Press was removed in December, and the 112 Press was taken out Jan. 16.
A few weeks ago, the machine used to decorate pieces of Pyrex in house was also removed. Now pieces are shipped to Lancaster to be decorated before they are packaged and distributed.
The two remaining presses shut down early Friday morning.
“The 114 press was shut down this morning at 6 a.m.,” Byrne said. “So it’s been a very emotional day for all of us in there to watch that.”
Though emotions ran high, there is something to be celebrated for the decades of hard work that made a name for not only Pyrex, but the people who made it and the town it called home.
“Amidst this sadness, we must come together to celebrate 132 remarkable years of glassmaking at this site,” Pane said. “So in honor of that history, today the whistle will blow for 132 seconds.
“132 years ago, Charleroi’s dreams were vibrant, this plant helped bring hope and promise of a great future. Countless individuals have found ways to support their families here and contributed to building America and for that we are deeply grateful,” Pane said.
For so many, it was more than a paycheck or way to put food on the table.
Those jobs, which transformed into careers, allowed workers to build their homes. They helped to support families, who in some cases, planted roots in the Mon Valley because this was home.
People fell in love and made friends during their lunch breaks — solidifying relationships with others who became more like family over the years. They attended birthday parties, anniversaries, funerals and memorials. Many stories were shared over a cold drink after a shift before heading home.
Joe Dzurko worked at the plant for more than 15 years. After recently being laid off, he was hired by Charleroi Borough in the street department.
He was one of dozens of workers present for the final whistle Friday.
Filled with emotion and left at a loss for words, he simply said,“It’s sad. The whole way around.”
“This was a great place to work,” Dzurko added, “filled with a lot of love and respect.”
Fred Vance, who has been at the plant for 47 years, started as a mechanist but now is a programmer. He stood in solidarity next to Byrne Friday, tears filling his eyes.
“We’re one big family, and I think we’ve all made that clear,” he said. “Personally, I’ve made a lot of friends here. I loved my job here, and I still do. That’s probably why I never retired.”
Vance doesn’t know what comes next, but he plans to continue to work to keep himself busy.
His heart weighs more heavy for younger workers who have to start over.
“Starting over is tough for anyone, but these people have decades, seniority under their belts,” he said. “They have spent their entire lives working in the same place. Starting over from something like that is rough.”
FTC investigation
Few stones have been left unturned when it comes to the fight for the plant to stay open, but ongoing investigations will likely be decided too late.
On Oct. 31, U.S. District Judge J. Nicholas Ranjan granted a temporary restraining order sought by the Attorney General’s office to prohibit Centre Lane Partners, a private equity firm working with owner Anchor Hocking Holdings Inc., from closing the plant.
On Nov. 4, former Pennsylvania Attorney General Michelle Henry announced a federal district court granted a motion for a temporary restraining order that would pause the shuttering of the Pyrex glass manufacturing plant pending further order of court.
The federal court’s ruling prevented Anchor Hocking Holdings and its private equity partner, Centre Lane Partners, from removing equipment and other materials from the Charleroi plant in relocation efforts.
On Nov. 14, a federal judge declined to stop the closure, finding that the Attorney General’s Office failed to prove that the company’s actions in shuttering the facility violate antitrust laws.
An ongoing investigation by the Federal Trade Commission is pending, but it will be too late for the Charleroi plant.
Heather Roberts, president of Local 53G, said there was an exhaustive effort to save the plant.
“We tried everything. We met multiple times with the company,” Roberts said. “We asked anything we could do to save — they weren’t giving in for anything.”
“Corporate greed has brought us here, pure jealously, and it’s a shame,” Byrne said.
They added that Pyrex can’t be made anywhere else like it is in Charleroi.
“They can take their ware, which they couldn’t sell in the first place, and put a Pyrex label on it and think consumers won’t know the difference. But I can tell you that they will.”
Charleroi Mayor Gregg Doerfler was among the local officials at the plant Friday for the last whistle.
“It’s a sad day here, for our town, but mostly these employees,” he said.
As he spoke, his eyes were red and cheeks puffy. He had cried alongside so many others.
“I just feel so badly for all of them,” Doerfler said. “For corporate greed to do this, to do something like this to so many good, hard-working people, I just don’t know how you justify it.”
