If I Can Cast, You Can Too: A First-Timer’s Experience in the Foundry

Nothing could have prepared me for my first time in a foundry.

Yet there I was at Erie Bronze and Aluminum Co., mesmerized by the sound of grinding machines, the sharp smell of metallic dust, and the giddy energy of everyone around me — all waiting in line to pour their first casting.

One metal worker, both hands wrapped around the heavy castings he cleaned, smiled warmly at the line of newcomers. “I’ve been there,” his eyes, filled with knowing anticipation, seemed to say.

Staring inside the massive ceramic crucible glowing red like a dragon’s mouth, I tried not to think about what I was about to do.

“I’m nervous,” I said to Russell Winter, a third-generation tool and die maker still dressed in his silver protective gear, raising my voice over the foundry’s symphonic churn.

“My arms shook the whole time,” he admitted, “mostly from nerves.” Great, I thought, staring up at the well-over-six-foot-tall man. I flexed my biceps — reminding myself they existed — attached to my spindly 5-foot-6 frame. Would I even be able to hold the ladle? Let alone manage a ladle filled with molten aluminum?

I heard the voice of Crystal Bentley from IACMI – The Composites Institute, in the back of my mind. On the flight to Pennsylvania she said, “In every class I’ve been to, someone has spilled the metal.”

Not me, not today, I prayed. Before fear held me back, someone piled a fire-resistant coat, gloves, leg and foot covers, and a massive face shield into my arms. “Your turn.”

I stood there like a toddler as student teachers from Penn State Behrend quickly and efficiently strapped everything onto me, tucking the protective gear over exposed clothing and tugging to make sure it all fit right. The oversized stuffed gloves turned my hands into teddy bear paws.

“How do you grip anything in these?” I said. A voice beyond my face shield responded, “Tightly.”

My Journey to the Foundry

Getting to Erie Bronze and Aluminum Co. took two flights from Knoxville and Charlotte and a 15-minute car ride. Finding my way to metalcasting took more than a year, and that journey began with METAL.

My trade is writing. The most gratifying part of my job is listening to the stories people share with me. For a moment, I see the world through their eyes, gain an understanding of their experiences, and find the words to pass it on. Then, I find the next story.

But writing about the metal industry felt different — I haven’t been ready to move on. I’ve spent the past year writing blogs for METAL, a program funded by the Department of War’s IBAS Program to revitalize metalcasting and forging in America through hands-on K-12 workshops, metallurgical bootcamps and apprenticeships.

I’ve seen the enthusiastic glow of students learning the trade; been inspired by the earnest dedication of the metallurgists reviving it; and felt the passion of recruiters who’d do anything – even babysit – to make sure apprentices succeed.

Here’s what I’ve learned along the way: Metalcasting is doing more than offering people careers — it’s changing lives.

For example, Georgia Southern University student Robert Myers became a welder and machinist after high school. But when a car accident put his career on hold, he decided to return to school, where he discovered GSU’s metalcasting program and hands-on internships.

“I’m so glad I found metalcasting when I did,” Myers said. “This industry is one of the blocks the world is built on. We need people who are willing to keep it alive.”

Then there are service members like Airman Savana Ohlenburger, learning the skills needed to support U.S. aircraft and weapons production; and Barron Industries’ Michael Price, a quality coordinator who stepped into the metal industry for the first time during COVID in search of a better way to support his family.

Again and again, I’ve heard these stories – often holding back my own tears during interviews, moved and stunned by the opportunities manufacturing jobs are offering Americans once again.

Why didn’t anyone tell me? I’ve thought. People should know these jobs exist.

“Have you tried it before,” interviewees would ask, “pour metal?” Sheepishly, I’d shake my head no.

“You should,” they’d say. Maybe.

America’s Blue Collar Comeback

There’s no denying the future of American manufacturing is strong. By 2033, the country could need nearly 4 million manufacturing workers to support its defense and supply chains. However, half of those jobs could go unfilled if manufacturers can’t train new employees fast, Deloitte reported.

At the same time, “white collar” office jobs across tech, government and other industries continue to get slashed. In 2025, the information sector lost 5,000 jobs on average per month, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. These included jobs at software, publishing, broadcasting, telecommunications, data processing and web companies. Tech giants like Amazon and Meta laid off thousands in 2025 and early 2026, with more cuts likely to come. Federal employment continues to slide, down 11% since October 2024.

Some days, scrolling on LinkedIn is downright depressing. Layoff victims are now competing with artificial intelligence, corporate offshoring and a ruthlessly competitive job pool. Professionals across marketing, human resources, administrative roles and sales are begging for interviews. But the jobs just aren’t there.

As someone in the “information” industry, diversifying my skills started to seem like a wise idea.

Breaking Metal – And Barriers

More than 20 blogs and dozens of interviews later, I decided it was my turn to experience the foundry. Doubts I’ve carried my entire life lingered: I’m not good at math. I couldn’t make more than a C in chemistry class. I have no hand-eye coordination, and I’m clumsy. When I told my family I planned to attend a casting and forging bootcamp, my sister laughed. “Can I come watch?” she said.

I share that to say, if you feel like an unlikely candidate for metal manufacturing, you’re not alone.

Thankfully, the encouragement from everyone I’d met in the industry overpowered preconceptions about myself and today’s manufacturing environments. Sure, people said it was dirty and the hours could be long. But they also said it was innovative, fulfilling and often thrilling – watching electric arcs illuminate the inside of a furnace, or flames flash up from sand molds during a pour.

More than anything, the sparks – and camaraderie – around metalcasting and forging sounded fun. So, I took METAL’s free online training, laced up my leather boots and prepared for the experience of a lifetime.

For two days, I joined real metal workers, manufacturing owners and industry leaders in Erie, Pennsylvania to learn new skills for the nation’s most urgent jobs. We learned how to use SolidCast and FlowCast software to simulate the time, metal quantities, and cooling patterns of pouring a casting.

We tested the strength of iron, aluminum and other metal materials using tensile and hardness testing machines. All metals and metal manufactured-parts undergo rigorous quality testing. After all, lives depend on it.

“Would this be the type of test they’d use on steel beams before building a bridge?” I asked, watching the Tensile machine stretch a thin strip of metal to its breaking point. A quiet anticipation filled the room.

“Absolutely,” a student teacher responded. A minute later, the metal split with a loud “pop,” like uncorking a champagne bottle. Everyone jumped, some exclaimed, and we all laughed at ourselves.

The group also dabbled in mold design. We used Autodesk Fusion, a software for 2D and 3D CAD modeling, to turn simple lines and dots into drawings of real machined parts. Man, I thought, customizing my creations on the screen, I could have enjoyed this. If only I had known it was an option.

Then on a March morning, dressed in my shiny, silver suit, it was finally time to pour molten metal.

The Final Pour

“This one is going to be more complicated,” said Dr. Paul C. Lynch, an associate professor of industrial engineering, as I stepped up, death-gripping my empty ladle. I’d watched in patient awe as everyone in my group meticulously poured the lava-like aluminum into stein molds. No one had spilled a drop, and I was the last one up.

Dr. Lynch leaned in and shouted over the machines, “We are going to need the metal to cool in your ladle before it is poured. After your ladle is filled, we’re going to put a metal cooling block in it to try to bring the temperature down before you pour.”

I nodded, wordlessly, and turned to the metal worker who manned the crucible in protective wear that reminded me of the X-Files. He scooped molten aluminum into his ladle and gently transferred it into mine. I turned back to Dr. Lynch, slicing the air with the ladle’s heat.

“Swish it!” He said, and my arms attempted small, careful circles. His student came over with the cold stone and I went stock-still. He dunked it in the metal once, read the thermometer and shook his head. Again. Dunk, still not cool enough. I pinched my elbows into my abdomen and activated my core. I could not let go.

As I began to wonder how much longer I could hold, Dr. Lynch released me, “It’s cool enough! We can pour!”

I found the molds on the floor behind me. I was pouring spiral castings instead of steins, which explained the temperature difference. Cautiously, I overturned the liquid metal into the mold’s teacup-size hole. Dr. Lynch guided me. “Faster,” he encouraged. Seconds later, I finished pouring metal into three molds and returned my leftover aluminum to the crucible.

It was over – and the metal didn’t spill! My fears of tripping and setting the foundry on fire slipped away.

I returned to my group like a champion. Exhilaration and a sense of accomplishment clung to the warm air. We had all faced our fears. We overcame stigmas, passed down from parents and grandparents, about manufacturing work. We looked beyond gender, age and education to learn something new. We got our hands dirty. We took part in a process that civilizations are built on

And, much like any rat pack, we were sorry to see the moment end.

Nothing could have prepared me for my first time in a foundry — or for my next question:

When can I do that again?

Ready to explore a future in metal? Start METAL’s free online training and visit our events page to attend the next METAL bootcamp or workshop near you.

By: Amanda Freuler

Reindustrialize and Pour Some Metal

Heat.

It whooshed past me as big buckets of bubbling bronze moved through the air, tethered to a crane, with one large, silver-clothed man guiding them from one place to the next.

I wasn’t supposed to be exactly there. I should have been a foot back. The blast of heat caught me off guard, landing like a lurch in my stomach.

I stepped back, coming eye-to-wide-eye with a Penn State materials science instructor. He flailed his arms.

“You’re all everywhere!” he shouted.

We were. Me, holding my iPhone tightly and pleased with the last shot. Zach Glabman stood about two yards away with his film crew while Ken Spaulding of Volund Manufacturing captured beautiful stills with a high-end camera.

The Keystone Foundry men—the ones who actually did the work and didn’t just talk about it, like me—were foreboding. Literal giants of men: Andy, Stefan and Mike. Well over six feet and brooding. Happy, but brooding. They smirked at us as we took turns pouring little ladles of liquid metal into prepared molds that would become medallions. It was our reward for dipping our toes into the field of metallurgy.

We were visitors in their world, outsiders inside the Misty Mountains. Andy, Stefan and Mike didn’t know the mystique we felt as we cosplayed metalworkers. Well—some of us cosplayed. Most of this was boots-on-the-ground. Some of us had our heads in the clouds, dreaming and imagining ways to reindustrialize the country by changing hearts and minds.

I’m the latter. I have the privilege of being the hype-girl of metallurgy without the skill to actually do it. Until now, at least.

National Security Is At Stake

I moved away from certain death and toward Andy—not the Andy melting metal, a different one. This Andy had on an ACE hat that was very well worn, despite the fact that I knew it couldn’t be that old. Andy didn’t know this, but ACE is a sister program to the one I was there representing and was formed only five years ago. The goal there was to train people to become machinists. I was there for METAL, a program designed to train people to become metalworkers.

Why? Because the Department of War needs things built with metal, and there aren’t enough people who want to do it. Not only that, but the capability in general isn’t there.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Andy, yelling over the din of sirens and jittering equipment, immediately jumped to the heart of the problem.

“We’re starting to get a lot more work here because industry is finally coming back,” he bellowed. “This kind of work got moved overseas years ago.”

Keystone Foundry in Erie, Pennsylvania, has been in continuous operations since 1887 and is one of the oldest businesses in the city. Thanks in part to defense contracts, business is booming.

“The national security of our country is at stake here. I’m glad that our government recognizes it and is investing in this industry because it’s critical to our survival as a nation,” said Operations Manager Adam Scheloske as he gave us the safety talk before we went in to where the magic happens.

To get some background on Keystone Foundry, I had taken to Google before heading out there and clicked on “news.” All I found were obituaries of people who had worked there faithfully for decades.

Reindustrialize isn’t a word Apple recognizes. Resurrection is.

Quick context: I work for a manufacturing institute (IACMI) that leads workforce development programs in casting, forging and machining. We’re funded by the Department of War’s IBAS program to address workforce shortages in those industries.

I am not an engineer or metalworker by any stretch of the imagination and never have been, but I am acutely aware of the devastation wreaked on towns when our country began to offshore this type of work in the 1980s.

For this particular trip, I invited some friends in the reindustrialize space on X to attend a METAL bootcamp at Penn State Behrend in Erie, Pennsylvania. These folks are what I consider micro-influencers; they write, and people respond. I did not expect nearly everyone I invited to say yes, but they did.

Echoes of the Past

The term reindustrialization actually isn’t new, despite its prominence in the manufacturing world right now thanks to people like Aaron Slodov of Atomic Industries and Ben Kohlmann—now the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, but previously CEO of the New American Industrial Alliance, the organization behind the Reindustrialize conference in Detroit. The word itself was coined by sociologist Amitai Etzioni during the manufacturing crises of the 1970s, when policymakers first began asking how the United States might rebuild the industrial capacity it had dismantled.

Kind of scary, right? We’ve been here before, just with a different cast of characters. The warnings were there the first time, too. We didn’t heed the voices crying in the wilderness.

There’s a movie called Wanderlust where a character always lists the names of the co-founders of his cult whenever he starts monologuing, and there’s a chance I’m about to do that, too. Because I think you’ll hear these names again in the future. Heed them.

Ken Spaulding, Russell Winter, Zach Glabman, Lana Smith, Jason Dicosimos, Eric Trulson, Jack Watson, Amanda Freuler Seals and Daniel Mitchell were all at this METAL bootcamp. Some are multi-generational factory owners, some are founders, some work purely in defense and some are hobbyists. Eric said I’m a good hype-girl, and I’m satisfied with that.

One conversation I had with my team at IACMI when I first came on board two years ago involved changing the narrative around these jobs being “dark, dirty and dangerous” to appeal more to Gen Z.

But… they kind of are.

And that’s not a bad thing.

Something Worth Doing

I was at Ellwood EQS, a steel melting facility, a few weeks ago and met one of their new hires. He was part of the teeming crew, which involves climbing up on molds as tall as 25 feet high to prepare them for the metal pour. These would go on to become large steel ingots. In fact, Ellwood is a leading supplier of steel ingots in North America.

Logan had worked there for four weeks when I met him. Before that, he had spent six years working for a logistics company—from home.

“It nearly killed me,” he told me later. “It wasn’t good for me to be home all the time. I came here because I wanted to do something worth doing, in the real world.”

“And you like it?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” he said with a smile, his face covered in black sand. “Oh, yeah. I don’t know if this specific position is what I’ll stick with, but this is where I want to be.”

The teeming position can be hard to keep filled, in part because humans tend to have a fear of heights. We were there to shoot GoPro and virtual reality footage that EQS could use at career fairs to give people an idea of what the job actually entails. I know there are some adrenaline junkies out there who would love it.

I don’t know if Logan knows this, but it can take five to ten years for people to reach the top of their craft in this world, according to Jack Watson. Jack is the fourth-generation owner of HFW Industries in Buffalo, New York, and is singularly focused not only on growing his own company, but on elevating manufacturing careers.

It’s that level of worker that’s hard to find—the one who already knows how to do what needs to be done. Nearly a quarter of the manufacturing workforce is over 55, and retirements are accelerating. With that goes the tribal knowledge. Our program introduces people to these careers, so there will be a healthy middle within a few years, but you can’t just inject knowledge into people.

Unless Elon comes up with a brain chip for that.

Russell Winter sees the same problem from a different angle. His grandfather started Center Tool in the 1970s making trim dies—the massive tools used to cut excess metal off die-cast parts. By the time Russell bought the company from his father in 2019, the shop had become more of a general precision machining operation, cutting aluminum, steel and plastic parts.

Around that time he started talking with other small manufacturers and noticed something troubling: many of them were nearing retirement, and their kids weren’t taking over the businesses the way previous generations had.

“What happens to all these companies,” he wondered, “when the owners retire and no one takes them over?”

That question eventually led him to start US MFG, a platform designed to help small manufacturers connect with one another—sharing work, balancing workloads, and helping smaller shops qualify for defense contracts. Small manufacturers, he explained, often swing between being overwhelmed with orders and sitting idle. Connecting them could smooth that out.

“If they just had more work,” he said, “they’d do great at making parts.”

These Guys Are Trailblazers

Now, you have to remember that in 2019, nobody was talking about reshoring or reindustrializing. Russell was. Homeschooled and raised on a farm, he began to question himself after the COVID years. He wasn’t getting much traction. He knew the country needed to bring back skilled jobs, but he questioned his vision. Was he too idealistic? Was it too late for America to become a country that makes things again?

Little did he know that across the country, small pockets of forward-thinking people were synchronistically dreaming about the same thing. Did you know that if you set off a hundred metronomes at different times, eventually they’ll all sync up?

Apparently it happens with people, too.

Standing there in Keystone Foundry, it was hard to believe there wasn’t work. The place felt alive.

Behind us, Nicole was busy making cores – another job that’s becoming more and more rare in the U.S. Around the corner Andy – the first Andy – was back at the blazing furnace grabbing red hot ingots with tongs and placing them on a rack. All this, despite the foundry being closed for the afternoon to make time for our visit.

At EQS, the 20-ton vacuum induction melting furnace would go off every 40 minutes, giving everybody a light and sound show that could convince a person a universe was being born. Cranes overhead, sirens going off, steam hissing over the surface of the metal, all part of a living and breathing ecosystem that makes the parts that build our world.

Reindustrialize might not be a word Apple recognizes.

But standing in a foundry while the metal flows, resurrection doesn’t seem like such a strange idea.

To start training online for free, visit www.metalforamerica.org or americascuttingedge.org.

Careers in High Gear: Tennessee School for the Deaf Students Learn Sand Casting with METAL

Sparks flew as students from Tennessee School for the Deaf turned a university foundry into their classroom. Through METAL’s hands-on workshop, eight high school students pounded sand molds, poured molten metal and discovered their potential in metal manufacturing.

METAL, led by IACMI – The Composites Institute®, with funding from the Department of War’s IBAS Program, introduces students, career seekers and communities to the possibilities of metalcasting and forging. Through hands-on K-12 workshops, metallurgical bootcamps and apprenticeships, METAL is training a workforce that’s prepared to forge America’s future.

Advisor and TSD Transition Coordinator Daniel Jerrolds believes there’s a bright future for students who are interested in metalcasting, forging and other trade careers.

“I’ve started calling trade programs the modern day ‘Gold Rush,’” Jerrolds said. “There are jobs. The demand is there. If you look at a lot of technical programs, the job force is aging out and we’re not keeping up.”

He’s right — the need for trained metal workers is urgent. By 2033, almost 4 million manufacturing jobs could be available in the U.S. without the workforce to fill half of them.

Jerrolds, who began his career at TSD nearly 20 years ago as the construction teacher, says he has a heart for connecting students with hands-on skills. One of his first jobs was welding. Jerrolds learned on-the-job with his dad, who was a contractor for railroads in Tennessee. Today, Jerrolds shows students how to build their futures. Starting in sixth grade, TSD’s students receive aptitude testing, career counseling and vocational rehabilitation guidance to find the best path after school. In 2025, every graduating student had a plan, from employment to technical programs and college enrollment – breaking the school’s record in post-grad placement rates.

“I saw a need for what we’re doing with this program,” Jerrolds added. “The sooner we can get students in the right programs, whether it’s welding, forging and casting or plumbing or HVAC, and expose them to these skills, the better.”

Thanks to METAL, Jerrolds has one more tool in his career-planning belt. Through the program’s free, hands-on metallurgical training for K-12 schools, he’s introducing students like Tyarius (Ty) Howard to fulfilling, stable careers in metal — before they graduate.

Eight students from Tennessee School for the Deaf joined metallurgists at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville to learn how to mold, cast and polish a finished casting — expanding their hands-on skills and career potential.

A Day In the Foundry

Ty Howard, 17, thought he wanted to become a welder. METAL’s workshop made up his mind.

Like Jerrolds, Howard’s dad taught him how to weld. Growing up, when the father and son retreated to the garage to work on the family car, Howard watched his father’s torch throw bright electric arcs.

“I was always interested in the sparks,” Howard said through a sign language interpreter. “It looked fun, so I started to learn and see how to make different shapes and lines. That was fascinating to me. Then I started wanting to become a welder with cars.”

As metal manufacturing returns to the U.S., the nation will need 320,000 skilled welding professionals in the next three years. The field includes boilermakers, sheet metal workers, iron and steel workers, metal fabricators, welders, machine operators and more. Welders earn an average salary of $55,600, with strong opportunities for advancement.

During the half-day workshop at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, Howard explored new ways to spark his curiosity through metalcasting and forging. Howard and his classmates learned sand casting firsthand, using wooden letters as patterns to pack sand into a hollow mold. After melting aluminum to about 1,300°F, they poured the melted metal into the mold to create their first castings.

Howard cast a solid aluminum “T,” for Ty, small enough to fit in the palm of his mother’s hand.

“Mom was like, ‘Oh, I love it. I see you did a great job and it’s a really nice shape,’” Howard recalled her reaction after the workshop. “I showed her what I did to clean up the metal,” he added, filing down the rough edges by hand.

Isaac Murray, 17, said his favorite part of the workshop was forging: heating metal to a fire-red before hammering it into a desired shape. The finishing touch? Stamping it with a METAL logo.

“I was shocked we were going to get experience with molds and casting and learn in-depth information about different kinds of metals,” Murry said through the interpreter. “It would be a great opportunity for anybody.”

For Thomas Drye, a UT research associate who led the workshop with METAL, the goal is introducing students to careers in metal manufacturing they might not know about.

“When I was in high school, there weren’t a lot of experiences like this,” Drye said. In one study, almost 60% of Gen Z said they might have been interested in manufacturing careers if they’d been exposed to related opportunities in school.

“Now the kids know, ‘I’ve done casting. I know a little bit about what this is,’” Drye said. “They have familiarity if they go into a foundry and apply for a job. There are plenty of workarounds to support them on the job today. All you need is ambition and drive.”

Introducing deaf students to metal manufacturing also means addressing a key concern for employers: workplace accessibility.

Making Manufacturing Accessible

“How do we make it safe?” is the first question manufacturers ask Dr. Linda Bryant and James Mallory at the National Technical Institute for the Deaf’s Center for Workforce Development when hiring deaf and hard of hearing employees.

Established in 2025, the center connects deaf and hard of hearing people with in-demand technical jobs through training, job placement and transition support. It also helps employers and training programs like METAL create safe, inclusive manufacturing environments.

“My mantra has always been that the deaf and hard of hearing population is an untapped resource for companies and industries with vacancies or high demand,” said Bryant, the center’s director. “Should people open their minds and accept them into positions, employers find they’re very capable and valuable to the company and the economy.”

In the U.S., about 54% of deaf people are employed, compared to 70% of hearing people, according to the National Deaf Center on Postsecondary Outcomes. The employment gap widens further for deaf people from minority racial and ethnic backgrounds.

However, accessibility in manufacturing is often possible through simple changes. Mallory, a professor and technical workforce development specialist, encourages trainers to use clear language, visual demonstrations and technology for communication when interpreters aren’t present. On the shop or foundry floor, blinking lights and mirrors can help enhance safety. In facilities built with industry best practices in mind, changes may not be needed for deaf and hard of hearing employees.

“There is no typical deaf person. It’s not one size fits all,” Mallory said. “Modifications are based on the employer and the worker. A lot of times the changes are small — and if they’re good for deaf and hard of hearing people, they’re good for everybody.”

Jerrolds noted that onboarding deaf employees can feel daunting for manufacturers, which is why industry relationships and education are important.

“It’s new territory for them and they see it as a big question mark,” Jerrolds said. “That’s one reason I try to get students into work-based learning experiences and job shadowing. It’s as much for the employers as it is for the student.”

A Limitless Future in Metal

With the right tools, resources and support, the Deaf community can excel in manufacturing careers. Nathan Montoya, a career and technical education teacher at TSD, said he felt at home in METAL’s workshop alongside his students. Montoya, who is deaf, has a background in mechanical engineering.

“It’s all about exposure,” he said through the interpreter. “Let the students get their hands dirty. I want to see more of that. The industry is doing this for the students, showing them how they can have a career in this field.”

Howard has another year until graduation, but he’s already revved up to pursue a career in automotive manufacturing. He hopes to use his skills in welding, mechanics and metalcasting to build everything from cars and trucks to motorcycles and roll cages. Through METAL, Howard gained the momentum to shift his future into gear.

“I felt really great there. I never experienced anything that was a fun lab I could learn in, and I learned quite a bit,” Howard said about the workshop. “I just want the opportunity to learn and to have experience so when I go and work, I’ve learned what I need.”

Ready to cast America’s future? If you’re a teacher, school administrator, or parent interested in bringing METAL’s K-12 initiatives to your school or community, fill out our contact form.

Ignite your future in metal today: Start METAL’s free online training and visit our events page to attend the next METAL bootcamp or workshop near you.

If you are deaf or hard of hearing and interested in new career opportunities — or you’re an employer looking to hire talented, motivated workers — the NTID Center for Workforce Development can help you get started. Visit the NCWD website or email NCWD@rit.edu to learn more.