Zola Anderson,
Manti Parachute Factory Worker

“I felt like I was doing some good for the men in the war. This way, we could help out too.”

BY GRACE GIBSON,

BETTER DAYS INTERN

The whirring of machines, the chattering of voices, and the urgency of a shared purpose fueled the atmosphere in the Manti Parachute Factory.  Zola Anderson, a young woman seeking to make a difference in the war effort, was one of thousands of Utah women who entered the workforce during World War II. She worked on the Manti factory’s large sewing machines creating life-saving devices for U.S. soldiers. As she and her fellow workers sewed, they often folded encouraging notes into the parachutes, sending personal lifelines from home to the soldiers abroad.

Born in Wales, Utah on November 3, 1922, Zola Anderson was the daughter of Marvella and Lamont Anderson. A Utah native and a lifelong member of the Latter-day Saint church, she attended Moroni Stake Seminary throughout her years at Moroni High School.^[1]

After graduating in 1940, she took an agricultural job working for a family in Ephraim where she “was only making twenty-five cents an hour.”^[2] Sanpete County had been hit particularly hard by the Great Depression, and employment opportunities in rural Utah in the late 1930s were scarce. World War II changed everything. Zola was only nineteen years old when the United States entered the war and thrust her into a burgeoning new American workforce.

Ad in the Milford News, December 24, 1942.

The Manti Parachute Factory opened in April 1942, after Utah Governor Herbert Maw convinced a California manufacturer to open a branch in Manti to meet Sanpete County’s desperate need for employment opportunities. The factory brought the first non-agricultural industry to the rural communities of Central Utah, and Maw concluded that the “plant was a life-saver for those people.”^[3] The factory was staffed by hundreds of local women, ages sixteen to forty, running each stage of parachute production for the Army, Navy, and Marines. While many were young single women like Zola, many others were married and often had to balance their full-time factory work with housekeeping and childcare responsibilities.^[4] With the support of family, friends, and federally-financed nursery schools, these women juggled their many obligations and forged a new path for working women in their community. The factory’s owner and manager, Colonel Cedric Errol Fauntleroy, boasted: “There are no better national defense workers anywhere in the country today.”^[5]

Manti Parachute Factory workers, including Zola. Mount Pleasant Pyramid, Feb. 25, 1944.

When Zola heard that the parachute factory was hiring, she jumped at the chance to make higher wages. She acknowledged the pressing economic need for women at that time to contribute to the family income, recalling: “Women were just happy to have a job. . . .I think it was a help, that was the way I looked at it. Every woman helped.” The women reported using their wages to buy necessities and new luxuries, including rent and groceries, furniture, refrigerators, and indoor plumbing. Like many of the women who entered the workforce during the war, Zola was motivated by patriotic duty as well as economic necessity. Her brother was in the Navy and her boyfriend at the time was a paratrooper, so she likely thought of them as she carefully crafted parachutes. Later in life, Zola reflected on her time at the factory with pride, stating: “I felt like I was doing some good for the men in the war. This way, we could help out too.”

Sewing machine at the Manti Parachute Factory. Utah Historical Society.

At the plant, Zola worked on the large Singer sewing machines sewing rip cords on the parachutes in a precise pattern to ensure safety and strength. She explained: “I would do that on the whole parachute until it was done. It was interesting. It was quite a place there with all the sewing machines that could sew four seams at a time. That was a four-needle machine.” Looking back, she concluded: “I liked working there, but it was kind of noisy. But I didn’t mind it. I liked the work. It wasn’t strenuous or anything, but you just had to do your job right.” To make sure the job was done right, government inspectors verified that each parachute met government standards and specifications. Many of the parachute factory women commuted together from various towns on an old school bus chartered by the factory. The shared commute and pleasant work environment created a close-knit social experience among the workers.

Factory workers stretching a parachute. Utah Historical Society.

Work at the parachute plant directly impacted the troops overseas and thus required great attention to detail. Zola recalled with pride: “Parachutes were needed and we built them. We made them so that they would be good.” Soldiers’ lives overseas depended on the work these women were doing. They would periodically receive messages from soldiers whose lives were saved by their parachutes, such as the two cadets who gratefully thanked them for a “very enjoyable ride down to a perfect landing in a cotton field.”^[6] Parachutes had such emotional meaning for the soldiers that there were several instances of wedding dresses being made out of the parachute material that had saved the groom’s life. 

Having worked at the parachute factory for eighteen months, Zola decided to move to the more urban Salt Lake City, where she witnessed the turning point of the war: “I remember D-Day. I was up in Salt Lake working in the Safeway warehouse. There was this cafe. The street outside was so crowded that we couldn’t make our way through. There was a lot of commotion that day.” 

Zola and Bert with their family. Courtesy of FamilySearch.

After the war ended,  Zola married Bert Ruesch on February 6, 1946. They were married for sixty-six years and had three children. Zola later provided insight into how her money from the parachute factory helped them start their married life together: “I saved 400 dollars before I got married. We went and bought us a new living room set, a coffee table that went with it, and a rocker with my money.” 

The Manti Parachute Factory was purchased in the summer of 1944 by Reliance Manufacturing Company. It continued to produce the parachutes needed for the military, and then became a textile and clothing factory after the war ended. This secured a post-war industry and employment opportunities for the community.^[7] While many women in Utah and throughout the nation chose to continue working after the war, most of the “Rosies” returned home and relinquished their employment positions to returning soldiers. Still, their contributions to the war effort left a lasting impact on the community and on the women themselves. 

Zola Anderson Ruesch and hundreds of other rural women in Central Utah came to the service of their country in a time of great need. Their time at the Manti Parachute Factory brought them close to the war effort and provided much-needed economic support, personal fulfillment, and a sense of national pride to be part of the force sending aid to American soldiers.

Grace Gibson is an undergraduate student at Brigham Young University studying history and urban planning. She is planning on pursuing a career in local government to uplift and include women’s voices in her community.

^[1] “Moroni Stake Seminary Graduates 43 Students,” Mt. Pleasant Pyramid (26 May 1939), 1.

^[2] Oral history interview with Bert and Zola Anderson Ruesch, 2005 November 26, MSS 7752 Series 23 Sub-Series 1, Volume: MSS OH 2049. Charles Redd Center for Western Studies oral history project records, MSS 7752. L. Tom Perry Special Collections.

^[3] Herbert B. Maw, Adventures With Life (Salt Lake City: Herbert B. Maw, 1978), 164.

^[4] Referencing this “second shift” of domestic duties expected of working women, one of the Manti Parachute Factory workers later recalled: “We were always busy working at the plant. Then we’d come home and fix dinner, scrub on the board, [and] iron.” Another similarly noted that after a full day of factory work, she “had to stay up until midnight to get things done at home.” See Amanda Sue Midgley Borneman, “Proud to Send Those Parachutes Off: Central Utah’s Rosies During World War II,” masters thesis, Dept. of History, Brigham Young University (2006), 82.

^[5] “Parachute Company Needs Women Workers: Manti Plant Will Pay Trainees While Learning,” Milford News (24 December 1942), 1.

^[6] “Manti-made Parachute Saves Life of Cadet,” Milford News (28 January 1943), 1.

^[7] “Manti Gets First Utah Post-War Plant,” Manti Messenger (30 June 1944), 1.