February 25, 2000
By Ronna Abramson
STAFF WRITER
OAKLAND -- Granny Goose Foods Inc. is shutting down its sprawling
plant in East Oakland and
laying off about 170 employees after more than a half-century
of churning out potato chips here.
The snack company, founded in Oakland in 1946, plans to consolidate
its operations at a Salt Lake
City plant acquired about three years ago. But Granny Goose will
keep its corporate headquarters
in Oakland, Chief Executive Officer Larry Wheeler said.
In a letter Tuesday, JoAnn McMahon, vice president of human resources,
informed employees and
Teamsters Local 98 of layoffs starting April 22. Management and
Teamsters officials said they are
planning to meet today to talk about the company's plans and
severance packages for the 166 union
employees who will lose their jobs.
"We have made the decision to exit the Southern California market,
which has not proven to be a
profitable venture for our company," Wheeler explained in a telephone
interview Thursday. "The
Oakland plant was the one producer of product for Southern California
and we have made the
concurrent decision to close the Oakland production facility
and combine all of our production in
one plant, which is the one located in Salt Lake City."
Wheeler said Granny Goose intends to continue selling goods in
the Northern California market.
About a dozen employees will remain in the company's corporate
headquarters in Oakland.
"We're not insensitive to Granny Goose being an Oakland company
and an Oakland institution,"
said Wheeler, a former Pillsbury executive brought in to help
turn the company around. "We all live
here and it's our largest market. We want to maintain a presence
here in Northern California."
Wheeler said the company will add a second shift to the Utah plant,
a nonunion facility. "The Utah
market distributes as far away as Denver and Albuquerque and
even El Paso," he said. "It's really
impossible to serve those markets out of the Oakland market and
truck the product that far."
Granny Goose will put its 194,000-square-foot facility and 8.6-acre
property on 98th Avenue up
for sale.
"Obviously I'm tremendously disappointed," said City Council President
Ignacio De La Fuente, who
helped broker the deal to save Granny Goose in 1995. "I'll continue
to work hard if there is anything
I can do, but it doesn't sound like there is."
Ron Paredes, business representative with Local 98, said he had
been out of town and had just
heard about the closure Wednesday.
"We anticipated some problems for a year," Paredes said. "Granny
Goose has been struggling in the
market with Frito-Lay."
But Paredes still called the notice a "little bit of a shock. I thought they had some chances."
Last year, sales at Granny Goose plummeted to $90 million, a 10
percent drop from $100 million
the year before. In March, the company averted a strike by agreeing
to boost wages 8 percent.
Union members took a 19 percent cut in 1995 to help keep the
company open.
The company was founded by Matthew Barr, who had hoped to call
the brand "Mother Goose."
But that name was considered to be in the public domain and could
not be trademarked. Upon the
suggestion of his 5-year-old daughter, Barr named the company
"Granny Goose."
The company, once owned by Del Monte, has changed hands several
times. The past five years
have been marked by numerous ups and downs.
The company entered the Southern California market in 1996 with
the purchase of routes and other
assets from defunct Eagle Snacks. That same year, it bought Salt
Lake City-based Country Club
Foods out of bankruptcy for $17 million and repaid a $2.25 million
loan to Oakland.
That city loan, along with company employees who agreed to steep
wage cuts, helped local bakery
owner and real estate developer Keith Kim save Granny Goose from
closing in 1995. Kim, still
chairman of the board, has recently created an Internet business
incubator and is not involved in
Granny Goose's daily operations. He could not be reached for
comment.
Bernard Pacyniak, editor of Snack Food and Wholesale Bakery Magazine,
speculated that
distribution costs probably played a major role in hampering
Granny Goose's ability to break into
the Southern California market, where there are more tortilla
chip companies competing than in
Northern California.
There wasn't much of a profit margin on potato chips, he said.
"I'm sure they're trying to build their
profit margin on corn products."
By Damon Darlin
WHERE THERE'S a government program, there are ways to exploit it. So
Keith Kim has learned. Back in 1985 Kim, just out of Stanford University
with an undergraduate economics degree, bought a run-down $59,000
house in Sacramento, Calif. for 3% cash down and a low-interest,
federally insured loan, fixed it up and rented it out. He sold it for $90,000
about a year later, bought another house and kept repeating the process.
Even after the residential real estate market collapsed in 1990, Kim kept
at it, buying and fixing up Oakland, Calif. apartments, occasionally with
some form of government aid. Kim accumulated some 600 apartment
units by 1994.
Owning apartments, some of them subsidized low-rent units in Oakland's
inner city, brought him into contact with city officials. To keep the permits
and zoning skids greased, Kim contributed regularly to campaign chests.
It paid off last year—big time. Oakland City Councilman Ignacio De La
Fuente approached Kim. G.F. Industries, a privately held real estate and
food company, planned to shutter its potato chip business, operating
under the Granny Goose label. The business was losing money—$14
million over the previous three years. At stake were 367 union jobs in
the
economically beleaguered city that lies across the bay from San
Francisco. The Oakland unemployment rate of about 8% was far higher
than the national average. City officials considered the situation critical.
Would Kim like to buy the plant? "The last thing the politicians needed
was another institution to close," says Kim, now 34.
The 48-year-old Granny Goose brand image, a giant goose in a blue
bonnet and yellow tennis shoes, evokes fond memories among
Californians. Kim figured it could be salvaged—if costs could be cut.
Granny Goose had those 367 unionized workers—and another 110
pushing paper in the back office. Then there was the confused marketing.
The $75 million (1994 revenues) company had 1,200 different chip
products and bag sizes.
His councilman friend De La Fuente, a union organizer, helped Kim
convince the Teamsters union to roll back wages and benefits at Granny
Goose by 20%, to a starting pay of about $8 an hour. De La Fuente,
chairman of the city council's economic development and housing
committee, persuaded the city council to lend Kim the purchase price:
$2.25 million at 8 1/2% interest. No other prospective buyer was offered
the same deal. Within a few months Kim also convinced the state to give
him $750,000 from a worker retraining fund.
Using little money of his own, Kim became owner of Granny Goose.
Kim says he paid back the $2.25 million lent by the city within a year.
True, but he paid it back with proceeds from yet another government
loan, this time a $2.25 million federal Housing & Urban Development
(HUD) loan earmarked for Oakland improvements.
A son of modest Korean immigrants, Kim is well on the road to
riches—thanks to government handouts. Using little money of his own, he
owns Granny Goose.
Kim isn't the only entrepreneur in Oakland to benefit from taxpayer
money. Oakland has seen more than $100 million in city money go to
developers of an ice rink and a football stadium. It has little to show
for
either handout. And it intends to ladle out several million more to save
another food processing plant. "This is strategic investment," argues Kofi
Bonner, the city's director of economic development. Of course it is
nothing of the kind. It is simply the kind of state interference that has
created such a mess in other countries and that this country has,
mercifully, been largely spared.
But why should Kim care? A son of modest Korean immigrants who came
to this country in the 1960s, he is well on the road to riches. After losing
$800,000 a month when he took over, Granny Goose now looks like it
could show a profit next year. Kim has cut the number of products by
75%, to only 300. That resulted in a 40% drop in revenues to $45 million
in
1995, but the company is no longer hemorrhaging cash. Kim has bought a
fleet of used vans and trucks and strengthened the company's distribution
system. With revenues this year expected to hit about $100 million, he
has added shifts and is talking about taking Granny Goose public.
And he is expanding. In October he borrowed $7.5 million from a private
bank to help buy a Kaysville, Utah producer of potato chips, $90 million
(sales) Country Club Foods, now in bankruptcy court. He says he has
already raised the money needed to buy Country Club Foods—$10
million, cash—without government help.
Kim calculates that with Granny Goose he has 25% of the San Francisco
market, but little penetration elsewhere, and he dreams of carving out
20% of the potato chip market west of the Rockies, giving him a $500
million business. Frito-Lay has already vanquished competitors like
Anheuser-Busch's Eagle Brands, and Kim figures Frito-Lay will leave a
little guy like him alone.
When Congress bailed out Chrysler Corp. in a job-rescuing move in 1979,
the government at least shared in the gains by collecting $33 million in
fees from the automaker. If Mr. Kim makes it big, doesn't he owe us
taxpayers something other than contributions to campaign chests?
BY STEVEN OBERBECK
THE SALT LAKE TRIBUNE
Granny Goose Foods Inc. of Oakland, Calif.,
has completed its acquisition of Clover Club Foods, the Kaysville-based
potato-chip and snack-food maker that filed for Chapter 11 reorganization
in 1995 under its Country Crisp name.
The California company paid about $15
million for the assets of Clover Club, completing the company's reorganization
under the supervision of the U.S. Bankruptcy Court for Utah and ensuring
continuation of its operations.
``Most of the salaried employees and
most of the hourly employees are expected to remain,'' said Danny C. Kelly,
who represented Clover Club in its reorganization efforts.
Clover Club employs 300 people in operations in
several states.
Kelly described the efforts to reorganize
Clover Club, a company previously owned by the family of Lt. Gov. Olene
Walker, as difficult. ``It was an up-and-down case, but it ended up being
successful.''
Petersen Ventures, the former owner
that acquired the company from the Walkers shortly before the bankruptcy,
offered to pay $15 million to company creditors to retain control of Clover
Club's assets.
Granny Goose entered the picture in
late 1996, expressing its interest in buying the company assets.
Its bid won, although its initial agreement
last November to buy Clover Club's assets fell on hard times.
``We renegotiated and in the meantime,
Granny Goose recapitalized its own operations,''
Kelly said. Granny Goose on Feb. 28 struck a new deal to buy
the company and on June 18 a plan of reorganization was confirmed by U.S.
Bankruptcy Judge Judith Boulden.
Granny Goose, which produces about 250
different products out of a plant in Oakland and bills itself as the dominant
snack-food producer in Northern California, this week completed the deal
for the Utah company.
It wired to Utah the $15 million it
had agreed to pay for the company for distribution to Clover Club creditors.
Clover Club distributes its products
in most of the Western states and is a major producer of private-label
snack foods for supermarket chains throughout the region.
Clifford Carlsen Business Times Staff Writer
Oakland entrepreneur Keith Kim, who saved snack-maker Granny Goose when
it was
almost cooked three years ago, has recruited a food industry turnaround
specialist to boost
the company's profitability and prepare it for a sale.
New CEO Larry Wheeler has been given the charge of boosting profits to
allow a public
offering or private sale within the next few years. Wheeler has already
begun cutting costs, but
hopes to raise new equity or restructure debt within the next few months
to allow investment
in new equipment to make the company more efficient.
"We accomplished a lot in terms of sales and the products," Kim said "But
I brought him in to
take the company public or sell it."
Wheeler comes to the company most recently from Mrs. Baird's Bakeries,
a $300 million
family-owned Texas company. He guided the baked-goods maker through Chapter
11
reorganization and quadrupled operating profit before selling last year
to Grupo Bimbo,
Mexico's largest food company. Before that, Wheeler led turnarounds of
Pillsbury's pizza
business, Green Giant's canned-vegetable business and Alpo, the dog food
company.
Wheeler takes over Granny Goose after a dramatic turnaround of its sales
and distribution
system, but while it is struggling to produce profits.
Since rescuing Granny Goose Foods from a pending bankruptcy and extinction,
Kim rebuilt
sales from $30 million to over $100 million. Along the way it also boosted
expenses through
acquisitions and geographical expansion, and it is facing pressure from
investors to improve its
bottom line.
"I have done three turnarounds where a solid company needs to fix things
on the earnings side
rather than sales," Wheeler said. "My plan here is to correct some profit
issues then bring in
some minority investment until we get earnings up to a level where we can
interest a buyer or
do an IPO."
Since buying the company, Kim already has sold about a third of Granny
Goose to Taiwanese
food giant President Enterprises, brought in a $15 million equity investment
from San
Francisco buyout firm Doyle & Boissier and taken $2 million from Hambrecht
& Quist's
venture group. Wheeler said he did not expect to raise additional funds
from those partners.
The company is marginally profitable now, but still carries a great deal
of debt, he said. Its
strengths include a powerful brand identity, plus the fact that Kim already
pared down
non-performing brands just prior to his recruitment. Now it is a matter
of boosting the return
on the remaining Granny Goose, Padrinos and Kettle Chip brands that make
up the
company's core stable of snack foods.
"There is certainly a lot of opportunity for upside from an earnings standpoint,"
Wheeler said.
"It was in really bad shape when Keith bought the company, and he did some
very aggressive
things to rebuild sales, but the next step was to bring in somebody to
improve operations."
Granny Goose competes in a market where Pepsico's Frito Lay division controls
about 70
percent of the shelf space and sales nationwide.
Food industry analysts said retailers will always have a need for a secondary
brand to
augment the shelf space Frito Lay occupies, and that Granny Goose is well
established in that
position in California
Snack biz returns
The California company opens a wholesale operation on Oahu and has plans for a factory
By Russ Lynch
Star-Bulletin
After an absence of more than a year in Hawaii, Granny Goose Foods Inc.
is back and plans to use Honolulu as a base for
Pacific Rim expansion.
The Oakland, Calif.-based maker of potato chips and other snack foods
also plans to eventually bring back something it hasn't
had here for about six years: a manufacturing plant.
California real estate investor Keith Kim rescued the company in July
1995, just before it was to close its Oakland factory and
go out of business. The company also pulled its wholesale operation
out of Hawaii then.
Granny Goose now intends to be a major presence again in Hawaii, said
Rich Dwinell, senior vice president for sales and
marketing.
Yesterday, the company had a formal blessing for its island warehouse,
a Mapunapuna-area facility employing 20 people, and
product was to start rolling out of the building this morning.
"It's right around from where the Granny Goose plant used to be," Dwinell said.
The company expects sales of about $4.5 million in the first year of
its reborn Hawaii operation, handling Oahu distribution itself
and selling on the neighbor islands through a network of local distributors,
Dwinell said.
Granny Goose will be aided in the islands by the same factor that gave
it a boost in California around the time Kim took it over:
the decision of Anheuser-Busch Co. to end its Eagle Snacks business.
Granny Goose was able to pick up 70 percent or more of Eagle's retail
market space in Northern California and arranged to
acquire all of Eagle's routes in Southern California.
In Hawaii, with Eagle out of the picture and just a trickle of Granny
Goose's product being brought in by some independent
wholesalers, there was no substantial competition for Frito Lay, the
remaining big snack business. Now Granny Goose has
stepped into the market and expects to grow fast, Dwinell said.
Many of the employees in the new facility had been with Granny Goose
before and are familiar with the products, the market
and, importantly, the computer ordering system the company uses, he
said.
"We told them what our goal is: to build up enough business here to have our own plant," he said.
The island operation would have to be at a sales level of $6 million
or $7 million a year before that could be justified, Dwinell
said.
He said he is well aware of the costs of doing business in Hawaii but
sees a balance between local costs and the cost of
shipping in the product from the mainland.
"It's a trade-off," he said.
Meanwhile, Granny Goose will be working on export markets from the Hawaii
base. "Hawaii has inherent advantages as far as
exports are concerned," Dwinell said. "Our owner (Kim) is Korean and
he knows the export markets."
Kim is in Hawaii with Dwinell and other company officials to get the new wholesale facility open.
Dwinell said the company's first island marketing push will be to the
major retail chains. After that, the company wants to get its
products into small stores, such as Waikiki convenience stores, and
into the food service business, he said.
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