In July 1905, the Kingston family—John, George, Mary, and Elizabeth—arrived in Detroit, Michigan. As their chauffeur-driven car pulled up to the enormous new factory, their eyes were drawn to the immense structure of brick and steel.
They were met by Michael, who strode out from the factory entrance, radiating energy. He offered them warm hugs. "Welcome to the future of Kingston," he declared, his voice full of excitement, and immediately ushered them inside.
Inside the factory, the air hummed with controlled chaos. Conveyor belts snaked across the floor, low-slung rails guided chassis, and overhead, chains and hoists moved heavy engines along the rafters. Michael had built a factory that moved.
"This is the Moving Assembly Line," Michael explained, gesturing toward the longest tracks. "Right here, you are looking at two parallel 150-foot chassis lines. We have 280 men—140 on each side of the lines—each responsible for a single, small, repetitive task."
He pointed to smaller, busy areas surrounding the main floor. "Another 200 workers are operating in the sub-assembly lines. They pre-build components—like the electric starter and the engine block—which are then fed directly to the main lines at the precise moment they are needed."
Mary squinted, trying to follow the coordinated effort. "How many workers is that in total, Michael?"
"Give or take, five hundred workers," he replied. "And you can see the result."
Elizabeth, looking at the rapid pace of the work, asked, "How long does it take for a car to be assembled on this line?"
"From bare frame to finished, running Kingston car? Two hundred and ten minutes, or three and a half hours," Michael stated, letting the figure hang in the air.
The family exchanged looks of genuine surprise. "Three and a half hours?" John repeated. "It takes other makers almost twelve hours to assemble a touring car!"
"That is the benefit of using a moving assembly line," Michael said. He led them away from the noise to a quieter overlook. "The conceptual plan took twelve months to draft with the engineers before I even presented it to you six months ago. In the six months since then, we have built this factory to these precise specifications, which cost us almost one million dollars."
John nodded slowly, comprehending the massive investment. "So, is this it? The finished product?"
"No," Michael admitted. "There are still several modifications and ideas that need to be implemented. This system is mostly trial and error. We bought and disassembled an old Oldsmobile, and eight engineers spent more than six months running the process in miniature until this larger version worked."
The plant had been fully operational for only a week. While the 500 workers were still adapting, the output was steady.
"How many are you producing daily now?" George questioned.
"We are averaging about 70 cars a day right now," Michael replied.
"And how many are sitting in inventory?"
"About 500 cars, stored in five different warehouses around the city," Michael conceded. A silence fell between them, punctuated only by the distant, rhythmic clang of the lines.
John looked at Michael sternly. "Inventory is piling up, Son. You need to move these cars. What exactly are you going to do?"
Michael turned to face his family, his most charming, persuasive smile spreading across his face.
George groaned internally. Oh, no. That smile means he's about to ask for something big.
"That," Michael said, "is precisely why I asked you all to travel to Detroit."
He let the confusion linger for a moment. "You've seen what this factory can do, and you've driven the car. Compared to other vehicles on the market, what is your honest assessment of the Kingston Car?"
They looked at each other again. Elizabeth spoke first. "It is not flashy like the luxury models, but it seems incredibly reliable."
John listed the pros: "The high chassis is excellent for these rough American roads, and the electric starter is a genuine game-changer. The Kingston car is high quality."
"Excellent," Michael said. "Now, Father, knowing its quality, would you personally spend $650 to buy a Kingston Touring Car?"
The Touring Car is the everyman's vehicle, capable of seating four to five people comfortably.
"Yes," John confirmed. "It seems extraordinarily cheap compared to other cars with similar performance and features."
Michael clapped his hands together. "Then why don't you buy them?"
The realization dawned on them, and Mary rolled her eyes with a fond shake of her head. "How many do you want us to buy, Michael?"
"Why not all of them?" Michael asked, shrugging innocently.
"What the hell!" George let out the suppressed curse, earning a sharp look from Mary.
"Why do we need that many?" Elizabeth asked, bewildered.
"Five hundred cars are nothing! We have 1,200 Kingston General Stores now. They need delivery services. Our security agency needs to move personnel quickly. Our banks need secure transit for money. Our executives need reliable transport. Five hundred cars are barely enough to scratch the surface of our organizational needs."
After a moment of silence broken only by the factory noise, Mary was the first to give in.
"Alright, Michael. Two hundred for the Kingston General Stores fleet," she said, nodding firmly.
Michael rushed over and enveloped her in a giant hug. "I love you, Mother! I knew you were the one who loved me the most!"
She laughed, gently slapping his back. "Stop it, you smooth talker."
Next, John spoke. "I'll take two hundred as well. We will use them across the banks, the security agency, and as official vehicles for our executives and key workers across all our companies."
George just shook his head, but offered no complaint.
Michael turned to Elizabeth, who sighed, a smile playing on her lips. "I will take fifty for personal use among my associates and to test new regional distribution methods."
Michael bowed deeply and formally. "Kingston Motors thanks you for your patronage. The first massive order is complete." They all burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the factory floor.
John's laughter died down, and he fixed Michael with a serious look. "Laughter aside, let's talk business. You're planning to sell the Touring Car to the public for $650. Other high-quality touring cars are sold at $1,000 and more. Is that price point truly profitable for us?"
Michael nodded, pulling a small ledger from his jacket pocket. "It is. We achieved a competitive cost because we made the most expensive, heaviest parts in-house: the chassis, the electric starter and the body frame."
"And we have an advantage that others don't: Kingston Steel and Kingston Mining are providing most of the raw materials like steel, aluminum, brass, copper at the best, most affordable prices we can get. That keeps our material costs low."
"The $400 figure covers those raw materials, plus the specialized components we still outsource—chiefly the engine, the transmission, and other small components. Our electric starter is our own patented, in-house product, so no outsiders are involved there. We have the idea to bring even more components in-house someday, but today, we rely on these outside suppliers for the core powertrain."
"Our internal cost structure looks like this: $400 per vehicle for Raw Materials and Outsourced Components, $120 per vehicle for In-house Chassis Manufacturing and Final Assembly Labor, and $30 per vehicle for Logistics and Operational Overhead (Selling, Advertising, etc.)."
"That brings our total cost to $550 per vehicle. Selling at $650 leaves us with a $100 profit margin on every single car. That is a sustainable profit."
John studied the ledger, a genuine smile replacing his stern expression. He held out his hand to Michael.
"You have a deal, Son. "
Michael firmly shook his father's hand.
With 450 cars sold to the family, Michael has solved his immediate inventory problem and secured a massive internal commitment.