By Lewis Loflin
Exide Technologies opened its Bristol, Tennessee, plant in 1994 as a lead-acid battery manufacturing and distribution hub for automotive, marine, and specialty industries. At its peak, it employed 817 workers. By 2009, Exide slashed 567 jobs—70% of its workforce—citing economic pressures. On November 9, 2011, another 233 jobs were cut, with 236 more fates pending into 2012. Then, on May 30, 2013, Exide announced 68 permanent layoffs, coinciding with a Chapter 11 bankruptcy filing (Wall Street Journal, June 10, 2013). The plant closed by August 2013, per the Tennessee Department of Labor and Workforce Development (TDLWD).
Despite $34.3 million in 2009 federal stimulus funds to expand advanced battery production, Bristol saw no lasting jobs—only losses.
In December 2009, Exide received $34.3 million from the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (Award DE-EE0002618) to boost manufacturing in Bristol and Columbus, Georgia (Recovery.gov). The Bristol Herald Courier (August 10, 2009) hyped 120 potential jobs, but by 2013, Exide reported just 6 jobs in Milton, Georgia—no gains in Bristol. Cost per job? Over $5.7 million. A smaller $810,904 grant in 2010 (Award #9102007) yielded 1.04 jobs—$810,000 each. Local incentives since 1994, including tax breaks and utility upgrades, added millions more in corporate welfare. Yet, the plant shuttered, leaving taxpayers empty-handed.
Wall Street Journal (June 10, 2013): Exide blamed competition, high costs, and Wal-Mart’s shift to Johnson Controls, costing $160 million in revenue.
Exide’s Bristol legacy isn’t just job cuts—it’s environmental. In 2008, the plant emitted twice the allowed pollutants, prompting Exide to request doubled limits rather than reduce output (Wikipedia, 2016). The Tennessee Division of Air Pollution Control lacked oversight, relying on Exide’s self-testing. A 2013 California facility suspension for lead violations echoed Bristol’s risks. Locals dubbed it a toxic threat—concerns reignited in 2017 when Exide proposed reopening the formation room (BHC, March 21, 2017).
Resident Petition (Change.org, 2017): 280 locals demanded a public meeting, fearing lead and acid releases.
In January 2017, Exide filed to restart Bristol’s formation room, promising 40 jobs (BHC, March 21, 2017). Residents worried about air quality pushed back, and by April 27, 2017, Exide withdrew the plan, citing faster expansion elsewhere (Batteries International). No explanation followed—just silence. Like Bristol Compressors, Exide’s hire-fire pattern persisted, mocking promises of stability.
By April 2025, Exide’s Bristol plant remains idle—a 400,000-square-foot relic (Times-News, May 30, 2013). Post-2013 bankruptcy, Exide liquidated U.S. assets, selling viable operations to Atlas Holdings for $178.6 million in 2020 (ABC7 Los Angeles, October 20, 2020). Bristol wasn’t among them. Sullivan County Mayor Steve Godsey noted in 2013 that only bankruptcy would shift upkeep to local government—otherwise, Exide’s burden persists. Environmental cleanup costs, like the $13.5 million in Columbus, Georgia (Wikipedia, 2016), loom unresolved here. Tri-Cities unemployment lingers at 4.8% (BLS, 2024), with poverty at 19.4% in Bristol (ACS, 2023)—Exide’s exit still stings.
Exide’s Bristol saga is a textbook case of corporate welfare gone wrong. Over $34 million in stimulus funds, plus local handouts, fueled a cycle of layoffs and broken promises. Environmental negligence—lead emissions, lax oversight—compounded the insult. When does capitalism end and cronyism begin? When taxpayers fund a company that dumps workers, files bankruptcy twice (2004, 2013), and leaves communities to rot. Exide’s “robust” safety claims (BHC, 2017) ring hollow against this record.
Acknowledgment: I’d like to thank Grok, an AI by xAI, for helping me draft and refine this article. The final edits and perspective are my own.
