av8tor4239
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2004
- Posts
- 768
Like employees of United Airlines, Jerry Fallos of
Gilbert, Minn. -- who put in 35 years at LTV Steel
Corp. -- thought his pension was secure.
But today he and his wife, Barbara, find themselves
building a nest egg from scratch. He and other workers
have been forced to burn up their savings to pay for
health care. To make house and car payments, some have
had to take on second jobs or go back to school to be
retrained late in life in a new skill.
"There is no end in sight right now," says Mr. Fallos.
Now 58 years old, he expects to work into his 70s,
well beyond the age he thought he would retire.
Mr. Fallos spent more than three decades at LTV's
iron-ore mine in Minnesota, which shipped taconite
pellets to steel plants in Cleveland and Pittsburgh.
When LTV went bankrupt in 2002, the Pension Benefit
Guaranty Corp. picked up the company's
multibillion-dollar pension plans for more than 80,000
retirees -- but with reduced payments. Mr. Fallos saw
his expected pension cut from $2,600 a month to
$1,500. That the former LTV is now a thriving concern
under new ownership hasn't helped. Purchased in March
of 2002 by New York financier Wilbur Ross and folded
into International Steel Group Inc., now part of the
Dutch Mittal Steel Co. NV, it was not required to
reassume pension obligations.
The loss of his job in the bankruptcy also cost Mr.
Fallos, who had two heart-bypass surgeries in the
1990s, his health-care benefits. He was hired by the
United Steelworkers of America as a consultant to
workers on workplace issues -- but for $20,000 a year
less than he had made at LTV and with no health-care
benefits for the first 18 months.
Before the bankruptcy filing, the Fallos family had
their future mapped out.
The pension payments and their savings would allow
them to send their two sons to the colleges of their
choice. That didn't happen. To save about $9,000 in
tuition costs, their son Jared went to the
less-expensive University of North Dakota instead of
his first choice, the University of Minnesota. (The
two states have tuition reciprocity, so Minnesota
residents pay in-state tuition rates in North Dakota.)
Jared, 23, will graduate this spring as an engineer
with a job in the wings -- but also with $30,000 in
college loan debt because his parents could not help
as much as they had planned.
"That hurt," says Ms. Fallos, 49. "We don't like to
see our kid graduating from college with a huge debt."
The parents have taken out a loan to help their
21-year-old son Jake pay for his first two years at a
community college.
Ms. Fallos took a job in 2002 at an economic
development agency to help pay the family's
$1,200-a-month health insurance bill, but state budget
cuts wiped out her job less than two years later --
before her husband became eligible for benefits at his
union job.
"It doesn't take long to wipe out your savings
account," says Ms. Fallos. They withdrew thousands
from their meager savings, including the 401(k) plan.
Ms. Fallos is still searching for a job, but it's
difficult in the Iron Range region, hard hit by the
manufacturing slump of 2000-2003. "The good jobs are
hard to come by here," she says. "For every job I
would apply for here, there are people with master's
degrees applying for them." Ms. Fallos, who has a
bachelor's degree in psychology, says the most she has
made is $10.54 an hour.
Mr. Fallos wants his wife to take time and find a job
she is happy with. "You hate to go flip hamburgers,"
he says. "But it may come to that."
He says other former iron miners at LTV have gone back
to school to become registered nurses. "There were a
lot of guys who were getting jobs in grocery stores,"
he says -- 60-year-olds "competing with high-school
kids for jobs restocking shelves and carrying out
groceries."
Matey Yalch, 65, a pipe-fitter at an LTV plant in
Pittsburgh for 40 years, started tending bar part-time
to make up a bit of his diminished pension. "You just
have to cut back on things," said his wife, Peggy
Yalch.
The Falloses hope to rebuild their savings and
investments when Jake is finished with college and
they finish paying off their 1962, two-bedroom ranch
home. Until then, they are trying to be frugal.
"You have to watch your pennies and use your coupons,"
says Ms. Fallos. "We've had to do that so many times
through layoffs and things like that. ... But it is
hard to get that nest egg."
Gilbert, Minn. -- who put in 35 years at LTV Steel
Corp. -- thought his pension was secure.
But today he and his wife, Barbara, find themselves
building a nest egg from scratch. He and other workers
have been forced to burn up their savings to pay for
health care. To make house and car payments, some have
had to take on second jobs or go back to school to be
retrained late in life in a new skill.
"There is no end in sight right now," says Mr. Fallos.
Now 58 years old, he expects to work into his 70s,
well beyond the age he thought he would retire.
Mr. Fallos spent more than three decades at LTV's
iron-ore mine in Minnesota, which shipped taconite
pellets to steel plants in Cleveland and Pittsburgh.
When LTV went bankrupt in 2002, the Pension Benefit
Guaranty Corp. picked up the company's
multibillion-dollar pension plans for more than 80,000
retirees -- but with reduced payments. Mr. Fallos saw
his expected pension cut from $2,600 a month to
$1,500. That the former LTV is now a thriving concern
under new ownership hasn't helped. Purchased in March
of 2002 by New York financier Wilbur Ross and folded
into International Steel Group Inc., now part of the
Dutch Mittal Steel Co. NV, it was not required to
reassume pension obligations.
The loss of his job in the bankruptcy also cost Mr.
Fallos, who had two heart-bypass surgeries in the
1990s, his health-care benefits. He was hired by the
United Steelworkers of America as a consultant to
workers on workplace issues -- but for $20,000 a year
less than he had made at LTV and with no health-care
benefits for the first 18 months.
Before the bankruptcy filing, the Fallos family had
their future mapped out.
The pension payments and their savings would allow
them to send their two sons to the colleges of their
choice. That didn't happen. To save about $9,000 in
tuition costs, their son Jared went to the
less-expensive University of North Dakota instead of
his first choice, the University of Minnesota. (The
two states have tuition reciprocity, so Minnesota
residents pay in-state tuition rates in North Dakota.)
Jared, 23, will graduate this spring as an engineer
with a job in the wings -- but also with $30,000 in
college loan debt because his parents could not help
as much as they had planned.
"That hurt," says Ms. Fallos, 49. "We don't like to
see our kid graduating from college with a huge debt."
The parents have taken out a loan to help their
21-year-old son Jake pay for his first two years at a
community college.
Ms. Fallos took a job in 2002 at an economic
development agency to help pay the family's
$1,200-a-month health insurance bill, but state budget
cuts wiped out her job less than two years later --
before her husband became eligible for benefits at his
union job.
"It doesn't take long to wipe out your savings
account," says Ms. Fallos. They withdrew thousands
from their meager savings, including the 401(k) plan.
Ms. Fallos is still searching for a job, but it's
difficult in the Iron Range region, hard hit by the
manufacturing slump of 2000-2003. "The good jobs are
hard to come by here," she says. "For every job I
would apply for here, there are people with master's
degrees applying for them." Ms. Fallos, who has a
bachelor's degree in psychology, says the most she has
made is $10.54 an hour.
Mr. Fallos wants his wife to take time and find a job
she is happy with. "You hate to go flip hamburgers,"
he says. "But it may come to that."
He says other former iron miners at LTV have gone back
to school to become registered nurses. "There were a
lot of guys who were getting jobs in grocery stores,"
he says -- 60-year-olds "competing with high-school
kids for jobs restocking shelves and carrying out
groceries."
Matey Yalch, 65, a pipe-fitter at an LTV plant in
Pittsburgh for 40 years, started tending bar part-time
to make up a bit of his diminished pension. "You just
have to cut back on things," said his wife, Peggy
Yalch.
The Falloses hope to rebuild their savings and
investments when Jake is finished with college and
they finish paying off their 1962, two-bedroom ranch
home. Until then, they are trying to be frugal.
"You have to watch your pennies and use your coupons,"
says Ms. Fallos. "We've had to do that so many times
through layoffs and things like that. ... But it is
hard to get that nest egg."
