Local Hero—Lee Hummelstein

After devoting his life to the family scrap business, Lee Hummelstein is enjoying the rewards of leading his small-town firm to success in a big way.

By Jim Fowler

In his 86 years, Lee Hummelstein has lived the scrap spectrum—from its early days of horse-and-wagon peddlers, manual processing, and natural products like beeswax, ginseng root, and animal hides to today’s business of professional management, sophisticated machinery, computer technology, and high-tech scrap streams. Throughout this revolution, when the scrap industry and his own company—Hummelstein Iron & Metal Inc. (Jonesboro, Ark.)—were growing and transforming around him, Lee never lost touch with the important foundations of his life—namely, his dedication to family, community, and integrity.

Today, despite the success of his 98-year-old company, Lee remains as humble as ever, crediting others—especially Victoria, his wife of 61 years—for his good fortune. “It’s been a good life,” he says, “thanks to Victoria”—and his good life continues to evolve in his retirement.

In the Beginning

The Hummelstein family’s scrap roots extend back to Lee’s grandfather, Jacob, an Austrian immigrant. Jacob initially traded furs in eastern Tennessee and Kentucky until moving his family—which included Abe, Lee’s father—to Jonesboro, Ark.

“I’m not sure why he came here,” Lee ponders, “but there were a lot of swamps with fur-bearing animals and a lot of sheep for wool, so I guess that’s the reason. He liked working with fur and wool.”

There, in 1907, Jacob founded Jonesboro Hide & Fur. Driving a horse and wagon, he handled not only animal skins but also ginseng root, beeswax, rags, pecans, and scrap metals.

In due time, Abe joined his father in the business, bringing his own vision and energy to its operations. At one point, Abe pursued a project taking up rail, also enlisting the help of his son Lee, then 10 years old. Lee’s task was to take tools to a blacksmith for sharpening. This job, for which he earned $1 a day, required him to get up at four in the morning and work until seven or eight at night. Such was Lee’s introduction to the scrap business.

Lee, who marked the third generation of Hummelsteins in the family company, recalls getting along “real well” with his grandfather. Since Jacob drove only a horse and wagon, never a car, Lee became his personal driver, taking him on fur trips. Along the way, Lee learned two important skills from his grandfather—how to grade hides and how to handle customers.

“My grandfather treated customers as friends and, because of that, he was well-liked,” Lee says. “He was always on a first-name basis, and they always seemed real happy—before he downgraded their material.”

Stops and Starts

After Lee’s grandmother died in the 1930s, his grandfather lost interest in the business and passed the reins to son Abe. “My dad was good at metals, and I learned how to grade scrap from him,” Lee notes. He also found out the hard way just what it took to run a scrapyard. The company didn’t have any cranes, shears, or torches, which meant that everything—even loading railcars—had to be done by hand.

At the time, Lee balanced his time at the yard with his schoolwork. When class adjourned for the day around 2 p.m., he would head to the scrapyard, claim a pickup truck and another employee, and pick up hides from slaughterhouses in the area. Then he’d return to the yard to salt the hides at night so they wouldn’t spoil.

When his grandfather died in 1936, Lee dropped out of high school for a year and a half, then went back and graduated with honors. He opted not to go to college, instead investing himself and his assets—which were considerable for the times—in the family scrap business.

During World War II, Lee interrupted his scrap career to join the military—against the wishes of his parents and his family’s doctor, who served on the local draft board. “He told me I could do more good at the scrapyard than I could getting shot at,” Lee says. “He wasn’t going to let me get drafted.” But Lee was determined to enlist. So, while his parents were on vacation in Hot Springs, Ark., Lee called a friend and asked how hard it was to get into the Navy. “He told me, ‘It’s not very hard—if you can breathe you can get into the Navy.’”

The next day—July 6, 1942—he enlisted. After boot camp, he was sent to San Diego, where he had two training options—one on fixing diesel engines, the other on being an armed guard. Lee wanted to learn about diesel engines, but that section was full, so he became an armed guard on merchant ships, manning the guns and standing watch.

After returning from the war in December 1943, Lee resumed his position in the family scrap business—as well as his relationship with Victoria Wiggins. He had met Victoria before the war at a party in Jonesboro—it was a set-up by one of his mother’s friends. Later, Lee decided he wanted to go out with Victoria, and they dated until she left for college.

After Victoria completed college, Lee bought her an engagement ring. When their families heard the news, there was a major blowup. “You would have thought Mount Vesuvius had erupted,” Lee remembers. Both families had a fit because Victoria was Methodist—her father, in fact, was a minister in the church—and Lee was Jewish. Though Victoria’s dad didn’t initially approve of the match, he promised them his blessing—if they waited two years to be sure they wanted to get married. Like “damn fools,” Lee says, they agreed to wait, which simply “wasted two years.”

During that time, Victoria and Lee didn’t even date. In fact, they lost touch with each other. Later, Lee found out that Victoria was living in St. Louis, where he happened to be doing a lot of scrap business. They got back together and were subsequently married in Fayetteville, Ark. Victoria’s minister father escorted her down the aisle, then walked around the chancel rail and married the couple.

A New Direction

When Lee returned to Jonesboro Hide & Fur after the war, he found that his dad was hauling scrap to Chicago but returning to Jonesboro with an empty truck. They both recognized the need to find a product to backhaul to make the trips more economical. That product turned out to be new steel. Thus, the Hummelsteins started selling new steel in 1943, and it has been part of the company ever since. Abe concentrated on the new steel business while Lee, along with his brother Lou, ran the scrap side. Over the years, the company continued to grow. 

In 1970, Lee’s son Sam joined the firm, working with his grandfather Abe in the steel service center part of the business. A few months later, Abe was diagnosed with cancer, which shifted the responsibility for the new steel division squarely onto Sam’s shoulders.

In 1973, Lee’s brother Lou decided he wanted out of the business. Though Lee encouraged him to stay, Lou insisted on exiting the company, so they hired a CPA to valuate the firm and Lee bought out Lou’s half. A year later, the company’s banker suggested to Sam that the firm should change its name to more accurately reflect its business, which had shifted toward scrap metals. The hide and fur trade had been waning since the late 1960s, so abandoning that niche “was an economic decision and not a hard decision to make,” Lee says.

Changing the company’s name was another matter, however. When Sam brought up the idea, Lee replied, “Well, that’s the damnedest thing I ever heard of in my life!” He didn’t want to change the stationery and everything else bearing the company name. Nonetheless, Sam and the banker went ahead and, in 1974, changed the company’s name to Hummelstein Iron & Metal Inc. 

Old habits die hard, however. Even after the name change, Lee still answered the phone the same old way—Jonesboro Hide & Fur.

Entering the Computer Age

While Lee and Victoria were attending a national convention of the Institute of Scrap Iron and Steel (ISIS), an ReMA predecessor, Sam took another step back home that would have a profound effect on the company. When he picked up his parents at the airport, he said, “Well, I’ve done something.”

“What did you do this time?” Lee asked.

What Sam had done was rent a computer for 90 days with an option to buy. Well, 90 days became 180 days—and “that was the beginning of the change to computerize the company, which ultimately led to employee empowerment,” Lee states. 

For Lee, who was used to the old ways of doing business, this technological transition was scary. He knew nothing about computers and, hence, “couldn’t understand how you could put something in the damn thing and then get something back.” In hindsight, he admits that he “couldn’t see the forest for the trees.” It took him a while to realize that Sam was creating an organization in which one person didn’t have to do everything, as Lee had been inclined to do. 

Sam also helped bring about a new relationship between the company and its employees. When Lee was running the business, Victoria notes, “we felt the responsibility of taking care of our employees.” Today, she adds, “Sam thinks of the employees as coworkers in the business, which is altogether different. It’s just different times, different employees, and different ways of doing things.”

Now, when Lee looks at Hummelstein Iron & Metal, he commends Sam on developing “an organization that I would have been tickled pink to have. There are no secrets. Everyone knows if their division is making money or losing money.”

Enjoying Life to the Fullest

Since Lee retired from the company in 1997, his main role has been to serve as an “aggravation,” he says with a laugh. Though he still asks a lot of questions about the business, he does not question anything. “I’ve only been to the yard two or three times since I retired, and it was always by invitation,” he says. On those visits, he is always amazed at what Sam has done with the place. 

“How in the hell my father and I ran it without any equipment, I’ll never know,” he marvels.

Though he’s retired, Lee keeps plenty busy with civic and city responsibilities, just as he has done throughout his life. “I have no hobbies, so community activities were something I could get into,” he explains. 

“I did it because I thought it was good for Jonesboro and for my family.”

With Hummelstein Iron & Metal now in its 98th year, Lee could also occupy himself by planning for the firm’s centennial celebration—but no. He’s content to just “sit back and enjoy it,” he says—which sounds like a fair and just reward for a lifetime of dedication to his industry, his community, and his family. 

Lee’s Legacy
Born: March 14, 1919, in Jonesboro, Ark.
Education: Graduated Jonesboro High School with honors.
Military Service: Served in the U.S. Navy as an armed guard manning guns on merchant ships in the Atlantic and South Pacific.
Family: Married Victoria Wiggins on June 18, 1944. Two daughters—Vicki and Lee Ann—and one son, Sam, as well as one grandson (Matthew), all of whom live in Jonesboro.
Career: Worked in the family business his entire career. When he returned from military service in the Navy, he went back to work the next day. (Ironically, his mother, supposedly not expecting him to return, had discarded all of his clothes—except his work clothes.)
Association Involvement: Served on ISIS/ISRI committees and was active in the Gulf Coast Chapter, receiving the group’s Israel Proler Award in 1988. “I thoroughly enjoyed the trade association,” Lee states. “I always came away from a meeting with an idea I could put to work. Another reason I liked the association was that other members, even if you didn’t know them personally, would help you with a question or a problem.” Also served as president of the National Association Supply Cooperative (NASCO-OP).
Community Involvement: Serves on the Jonesboro City Water & Light board, the youth center board, and the chamber of commerce. Has served on the board of the First United Methodist Church and was cochairman of the missions committee when the church sponsored a Vietnamese family. Received the Distinguished Service Award and an award for 41 years of perfect attendance from the Kiwanis Club. Also received the Good Citizen Award from the mayor of Jonesboro for work on the Community, Police and Problem Solving Leadership Council. 
Hobbies: Being active on local committees and programs that pertain to Jonesboro, reading, spending time with his grandson, and helping to maintain the family cars.

Jim Fowler is retired publisher and editorial director of Scrap.