The Crowell Tape Corporation

Crowell Corp.'s Yorklyn warehouse, c.1955
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum,
the Adelman Collection)

Like, I think, many researchers, my favorite kind of topic is one I initially know very little about. My
favorite kind of question is one I don't know the answer to. That came up recently when I was asked if I knew anything about the Crowell Tape Mill, just south of Yorklyn. Honestly, at the time my only answer was, "Wasn't it that skinny building along the road that burned down in the 60's?" While it turned out that both of those things were correct, as you might imagine there was much more to the story.

The Crowell Tape Mill was what I'd call a second-generation business in New Castle County. They didn't build their facility here, but instead moved into an already existing complex. The company itself didn't even start anywhere near Delaware, but it turns out there was a very logical reason why they moved here. The story all starts in New England, with the company's namesake, Charles H. Crowell.

Crowell was born in Lynn, Massachusetts (just north of Boston) in 1868, and by the late 1890's owned his own company in nearby Rockport. His business made gummed paper -- basically water-activated adhesive paper. Cut into strips it was used as sealing tape for boxes, as pressure-sensitive tape (like scotch tape or packing tape) wouldn't  become widely-used until well into the 20th Century. It was also used for bookbinding. It seems when his first business folded in 1898, Crowell sold it to another firm which kept him on as a manager. They moved the factory to south Boston, but in 1904 it was destroyed in a fire. The company then purchased another struggling firm in New Hampshire, reorganized, and became the Nashua Card, Gummed and Coated Paper Company.

1916 Lang & Gros ad from
The Brooklyn Eagle

Crowell initially went with the firm, but in 1911 moved to New York City and acquired a one third stake in the Lang & Gros Manufacturing Company. Lang & Gros had been incorporated in 1906 and produced gummed cloth tape at their facility near the Bush Terminal in Brooklyn. Besides being a shrewd businessman, Charles H. Crowell was also an inventor and innovator. He had several patents to his name, the licenses of which he used to gain full ownership of the company in 1917, and in 1919 changed its name to the Crowell Corporation.

Charles H. Crowell

While Crowell never lost sight of his goals, in about 1912 he did lose his actual sight. All his subsequent accomplishments were achieved as a blind man in a world very much not yet accommodating to his challenges. He could also apparently be a bit of a challenge to get along with himself. In 1918 he went through a nasty and public separation from his second wife, Leila. Married only three years, they each accused the other of cruel and inhumane treatment. She accused him of flying into rages over trivial things like how long his eggs should be boiled and how much salt they should contain. He said of her that the only pleasure a man in his condition got was a ray of sunshine now and then, and that, "[M]y wife pulled down the shade." Ouch. Mrs. Crowell won the case and was awarded a decree of separation. They obviously never actually divorced, because as we'll soon see they're listed (sometimes) together and as married in later Censuses.

By now you're thinking, "That's a fascinating story, thank you so much for sharing it. BUT WHEN DO WE GET TO DELAWARE?!?" Well, your patience has paid off, because the answer is now -- or more precisely, 1920. That was the year that Crowell purchased a new facility over 100 miles away from his Brooklyn factory, nestled between Creek Road and the B&O's Landenberg Branch tracks, just below Yorklyn. The reason he moved so far away was simple. The company produced cloth-backed gummed tape. They bought their cloth from the Joseph Bancroft Company in Wilmington, so this was a move to be closer to their supplier. It also almost seems like Crowell maybe for had a thing for Lyn(n)s -- Lynn, Brooklyn, Yorklyn. I'm half surprised one of his wives wasn't a Lynn.

Two views of the Lower Snuff Mill complex in 1920. Warehouse (b.1902) is in the foreground
on the left, while the 1849 mill is the gambrel-roofed white building in the center on the right

The mill along Red Clay Creek was purchased from the Helme Corporation, which had taken ownership of the former Garrett Snuff Mills in 1911 after American Snuff (which had acquired them in 1900) was broken up as a monopoly. The site that Crowell purchased was known as the Lower Snuff Mill, also called Mill 4. The mill itself had been built by William E. Garrett in 1849, and enlarged in 1881. The narrow brick warehouse in front was constructed in 1902.

Crowell himself seems to have kept several residences through the ensuing years. In the 1920 Census he's still listed in Brooklyn (with Leila and the kids), but at some point in the 20's he began renting a house in Bellefonte, north of Wilmington. In fact, in 1928 he got himself into a bit of an altercation there (remember how I said he might have been tough to get along with?). While at a dinner party at his home on Highland Avenue, a drunk Crowell fell to the floor. When his nurse and personal assistant (remember that he was blind) Dorothy Bassett helped him up, he became enraged, began choking her, and pushed her against some furniture, injuring her back. Needless to say by the time the 1930 Census came around, he had a different live-in assistant.

Oddly, Crowell seems to be listed twice in the 1930 Census, something I don't believe I've come across before. He's listed at the Highland Avenue house in Bellefonte (with new helper Arline Howland), but also with second wife Leila and their three children in White Plains, New York. (And both were enumerated the exact same day -- April 12!) It seems he split his time between the two. The third (and presumably final) place he resided was in a house on Creek Road, directly across from the mill. There are actually two houses there -- one atop the hill overlooking the road and mill, and another a few hundred feet back. The entire property was owned by the company, and earlier in the 30's a company salesman was living there. I'm not sure which house Crowell lived in, but he's listed there in 1940 and in 1950, both without Leila, who obviously never moved down here from New York.

But back to 1920, Crowell had fixed up and renovated the old snuff mill so that he could produce not only the same gummed tape that he was doing in Brooklyn, but also some more products that he did not have room for up there. Crowell Corp.'s Brooklyn factory did continue to remain in service, though. There were lots of ins and outs of the gummed tape industry that we don't need to get into now, but the short version is that it exploded around the turn of the 20th Century when corrugated cardboard boxes first became widely used for shipping. The Crowell Corporation started to dip a bit in the late 30's, but production for the war effort helped in the 40's.

Young Herbert Adelman at his desk, c.1952
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum, the Adelman Collection)

View of the mill c.1952, taken by Herbert Adelman. He was an
avid photographer and had public displays of his work later in life
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum, the Adelman Collection)

After that, however, with an aging facility, an aging (and I can't help but feel very hands-on) owner, and competition from pressure-sensitive adhesive tape (remember, Crowell's was moisture-activated), the Crowell Corporation was in dire straits. Crowell shut down the mill in December 1951, and it was at this point that the Adelman family stepped in. They were the owners of Adelman Bag & Burlap, a manufacturing company in Philadelphia. They had a business relationship with Crowell and were familiar with the company and its Yorklyn mill. Even in its down-state, Frank Adelman could see the potential in the tape company and in February 1952 purchased it for his son Herbert to revive and run.

Interior of the Crowell Tape Mill. The old building had little
light or ventilation, and low ceilings for a factory.
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum, the Adelman Collection)

Crowell tape, sealed with Crowell tape
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum, the Adelman Collection)

Young Herbert Adelman had been working at the family business in Philadelphia, and when he arrived in Yorklyn he was told that all the company needed was sales. So, he became a salesman (in addition to being president), soon hired another salesman away from a competitor, and the company took off. In 1953 the Rosenberg family from New York bought out the Adlemans' share of the company, except for Herbert's. He stayed on, they modernized the old mill (which by then was over a century old) and the company continued to grow. Things were going well...until the morning of December 14, 1964.

The 1902 warehouse aflame
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum, the Adelman Collection)

Burnt-out remnants of the mill and warehouse
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum, the Adelman Collection)

That morning, a fire (probably electrical) broke out on the fourth floor of the mill and was quickly spread throughout the building by a blower system, used to dry the glue onto the tape. Firefighters were called but had no chance against the blaze -- the entire facility was destroyed. Even this, though, didn't keep the Crowell Corporation and Herbert Adelman down for long. Within a few weeks a temporary facility was secured in Wilmington, along with replacement equipment. The company was back up and running, and within months a new permanent location near Newport was purchased. Construction began on the new plant on May 3, with long-time employee Jeanette Henter atop a bulldozer ceremonially turning the first dirt. Henter, a bookkeeper, had begun working for the company in New York in 1909. She was there before even Crowell himself, and would retire in January 1969, having put in 60 years with the company.

See? She really did it!
(Courtesy of the Marshall Steam Museum, the Adelman Collection)

Adelman and the Crowell Corporation moved into their new facility, located just west of Newport behind Pleasant Hills (next to the now former Sears warehouse) in September 1965. The company kept going strong, and after the discovery of some financial misdeeds of the Rosenberg family the company was purchased by another firm in 1969. Soon after, fraud was discovered at that company, and the end result was that Herbert Adelman ended up with ownership of the Crowell Corporation.

In the late 1970's it became a family business again, when Herbert's children Robert and Joan joined the company as full-time employees (both had put in summers while in school). The plant was expanded in 1980 and the company continued to innovate, working hard to stay on the cutting edge of the industry. By 2006 Crowell was producing nearly one third of the world's packing tape, but within a few years it was gobbled up by larger, global companies. "Crowell" still remains as a respected brand name, however. A company that began in Brooklyn, moved by a blind visionary to an old snuff mill in Yorklyn, acquired and run by an energetic and innovative businessman, survived a devastating fire only to be reborn again -- not a bad history to be attached to what's now a small, overgrown strip between a road and railroad tracks.