DETROIT – Sergio Marchionne first came to Chrysler headquarters in 2009, having just negotiated a simple turnover with President Barack Obama.
At the time, the president commented that Marchionne was a bear in negotiations in that he wanted Marchionne to pay the U.S. government something for the bankrupt car company it had taken over in bankruptcy. Marchionne knew if he didn't take it, no one would.
The Italian/Canadian dual citizen -- educated in Windsor but possessing an understanding of Motown and its pride -- insisted in no uncertain terms that the president simply hand over the keys to the executive offices.
That’s when I first met Sergio. We in the automotive press had a hard time even properly pronouncing his last name that night. It’s quite the contrast to present-day, now that his prodigious feats of leadership made him one of those people like Madonna and Cher -- so famous they are known by first name alone.
Sergio was very late to the media briefing that night. We talked in hushed tones, highly skeptical of what was about to happen. Considering we’d just been through the disastrous Daimler/Chrysler “merger-of-equals” and Cerberus’ hedge fund geniuses had steered Chrysler directly into the bankruptcy rocks, there was only one person in that room who thought Chrysler was anything but dead and had a future at all, much less a bright one.
At the same time, everyone in the room knew thousands of jobs and the local economy’s stability depended on Marchionne’s grand vision, which would require near-perfect execution. Sergio strode to the podium, at once confident and conciliatory.
He showed an unusual skill to say the things every Metro Detroiter was anxious to hear, somehow calming fears. He believed Chrysler could survive and grow, that cutting thousands of jobs was not necessarily the right answer and rebuilding the company was the only way forward. He also knew we’d all heard this before. Every syllable represented mere words until he could make good on them.
I vividly recall asking Sergio why anyone should believe him. How was it that he thought he would be the one to succeed when so many others had failed so miserably? He calmly and confidently said it was because he had done so with Fiat. Sergio assured the room that he and his team knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Few in the room knew much about what he did with Fiat, fewer still found it particularly impressive.
We waited and watched as the “old-co/new-co” bankruptcy machinations moved forward. The Chrysler Auto Show that next January wasn't much help, considering the Chrysler stand looked like it had taken on a decidedly western theme. If you looked closely, you could see tumbleweeds rolling through the vast carpeted expanse.
Cerberus had left the company so bereft it stopped product planning long before the bankruptcy. To a car company that is a death knell. They plan vehicles five years out. Without new vehicles to show, Chrysler put some old ones on the stand and didn't even send executives. They were too busy trying to develop a five-year plan the company could execute.
Throughout 2010, Sergio wasn't saying much, other than that he intended to make the company work and that everyone was rolling up their sleeves getting to work. They refreshed vehicles as best they could and started planning overhauls for down the line.
Then, we all gathered around the television for Super Bowl XLV in 2011. At halftime of the Steelers-Packers tilt in Dallas, Eminem surprised in spectacular fashion. He proceeded on for two full, very expensive minutes about Detroit and about Chrysler being on the rise. He drove a Chrysler 200 shot to look like a Maserati around the then-moribund Downtown Detroit.
In defiant tones, with a choir behind him in the Fox Theatre, Marshall Mathers declared that Motown was coming back!
“Imported From Detroit” became an anthem for the ages. This was our first inkling that Chrysler was indeed new and different, the cars and trucks on the drawing board would be cooler and the fighting spirit would be rekindled.
Slowly but surely, the chain-smoking, espresso-swilling Marchionne, who all but lived on an airplane between Milan, London and Auburn Hills, ran seven car companies all at once and started showing results.
Time after time he told us what he would do and then did it. For journalists, he was a dream, because if you asked him a question, he would answer expansively, and then give you the thought process behind whatever subject he discussed. He would often spin a yarn or tell a joke to go with it. He provided us all with an automotive education doled out in rare but highly anticipated appearances.
He paid off the government loans in two years. He made the Ram pickup truly competitive with the F-150. He brought back the Challenger and Charger, and we saw dozens of them zipping past us in traffic with their loud and distinct exhaust tones.
Then, he said FCA was getting out of the small car business, shocking the industry. It took Ford two years to decide to do the same thing!
Along the way, he just kept selling more and more cars, trucks and SUVs. It became a drumbeat. Quarter after quarter, FCA sales were up over the previous quarter and year. Jeep and Ram, the two brands he picked up in the bankruptcy, led the way. Clearly, that is what he saw in Chrysler when he fought tooth and nail to get it from the government.
There are so many stories to tell. In 2012, a tipster called me about problems with the launch of the newly re-imagined Dodge Dart. There was much hope for the Dart. It was supposed to be one of the new “cool cars” using an Alfa Romeo platform (underpinning) a new nine-speed transmission and Italian styling.
Upon checking it out, I discovered the Dart had serious problems. I was able to confirm the electronics problem through other sources, but we later found out the new nine-speed transmission they intended to use didn't even exist, and they were forced to use another sub-standard one. When the Dart first hit the market in North America, none came with an automatic transmission.
They were jetting engineers into the Belvidere, Illinois, factory for weeks trying to get the car right. I did the story after asking Sergio about it at a news conference. He downplayed it, saying these are the kinds of problems they solve on a daily basis in every car company.
A few days later, I was informed by a neighbor of Sergio’s -- in a message sent directly to me -- that he wasn't happy about the story. The implication was he felt the story was inaccurate.
He was entitled to his opinion. I smiled at the notion that a CEO running seven car companies would take the time to send a personal message about anything. I didn't think he could pick me out of a lineup, much less know my name!
Sergio pulled the plug on the Dart in 2016. Analysts said the car was more about getting something on dealer lots than getting it right. Sergio cut bait quickly when it was obvious no one wanted a Dart, automatic or manual shift.
My favorite story is from the auto show a few years ago. FCA news conferences were fairly organized affairs. Journalists would signal to media relations staffers when they had questions for Sergio, and they would bring you a microphone. You were asked to wait your turn and identify yourself and your media outlet when called upon. These were not long pressers because the auto show media days schedules are tight.
We all vied to get that microphone. On this particular day, a reporter from Bloomberg TV in New York showed up.
I dutifully raised my hand, received the microphone and patiently waited for Sergio to finish his answer toward the end of the briefing. As I was being called upon, the Bloomberg reporter just blurted out a question without the mic. Sergio answered the bald-pated reporter’s interruption. As I went to ask my question again, Bloomberg TV shouted out a follow-up question as if he owned the place! Sergio answered that question, as well. As I went to ask my question again, the P.R. team abruptly ended the news conference.
I was holding the now dead mic and was furious. Angrily I yelled out, “Hey Bloomberg, next time why don’t you wait your turn!” Stunned to hear someone shouting at him, he spun around and asked, “Are you talking to me?” I shouted back, “Yes, I am. They may play that way in New York, but next time you’re here, wait your turn!”
The whole room stopped, as this kind of nasty interplay isn’t very common. Sergio remained in his seat and wondered what was going on. He calmly asked me what my question was. Surprised, I asked away. He calmly answered. Bloomberg slinked out of the room. I took a ribbing by the local automotive press. Still, I was ever appreciative Sergio diffused the situation. I thanked him for doing so because it saved my story.
Sergio Marchionne’s vision, work ethic, economic acumen and take-no-prisoners style will long be remembered in this town. Yes, there were those who locked horns with him and lost their jobs. Many in the company who worked very long hours and didn't always agree with Sergio’s proclamations from on high didn't appreciate his tough workplace.
Still, tens of thousands of Chrysler employees have Sergio to thank for their careers. It’s downright frightening to think about what might have been had he not stepped up and taken a flyer on Chrysler. In fact, I believe it is safe to say his dual turn arounds outstrip the successful exploits of another storied turnaround executive: Ford’s Alan Mullaly.
Finally, I am not given to the sentimental in this job. I don’t have many mementos tucked away -- didn't see much point along the way. But in the Southfield Town Center outside the Bloomberg News offices there is a large color portrait hanging behind the glass at the front door. It is Sergio answering a question from yours truly, with a Local 4 microphone splitting the two of us.
Now, that’s a keeper! I’ve asked the bureau chief David Welch for it when they take it down. (No, I don’t harangue all Bloomberg’s reporters!) Looking back on my near 30 years of covering the auto business, Sergio’s tenure is one of the most memorable and important. So long, Sergio. You left us too early, and you will be sorely missed.