How to Revive an American Foundry

The building had been sitting empty for three years when Kory Anderson first walked through it. Broken windows. A rusted-out cupola. Decades of accumulated grime on every surface. Most people who looked at it saw a liability.

Kory saw a foundry.

Why Anyone Would Do This

The American foundry industry has been contracting for decades. At its peak in the mid-20th century, the U.S. had over 6,000 foundries. Today, fewer than 1,500 remain. The ones that closed didn't all fail because of bad management — many were casualties of cheap overseas casting, rising energy costs, and a workforce that aged out without replacement.

The conventional wisdom said: don't start a foundry. The economics are brutal, the capital requirements are high, and you're competing against Chinese and Indian operations with labor costs a fraction of yours.

Kory's counterargument was simple: American manufacturers need American foundries. Lead times from overseas are measured in months. Quality control is a phone call away when your supplier is in the next state, not the next hemisphere. And there are customers — serious manufacturers — who will pay a premium for domestic iron if you can deliver it reliably.

The First Year

The first year was about survival. Getting the equipment running. Finding the right people — pattern makers, melt operators, core setters — in a labor market that had largely forgotten these skills existed. Building relationships with customers who were skeptical that a new foundry could deliver.

There were pours that didn't go right. Parts that didn't meet spec. Customers who gave one chance and didn't come back. That's the reality of starting a foundry — or any manufacturing operation — from scratch.

What It Takes

Reviving a foundry isn't a project for the faint of heart or the short of patience. It requires technical knowledge that takes years to develop, capital that takes years to recover, and a customer base that takes years to build. There are no shortcuts.

What it also requires — and what doesn't get talked about enough — is a genuine belief that what you're doing matters. Not just as a business, but as a contribution to American manufacturing capability. That belief is what gets you through the hard years.

The Bigger Picture

Every foundry that closes represents a loss that's hard to quantify. Not just jobs — though those matter enormously — but knowledge. The ability to make things. The infrastructure that supports other manufacturers who depend on castings.

When Anderson Foundries pours iron, it's not just filling orders. It's keeping a capability alive that America needs. That's the case for doing this work, even when the economics are hard.