If you were in the door hardware industry in 1952, you knew the name Lockwood. It stood for prestige, quality, and American industrial might. The Lockwood Hardware Manufacturing Company operated five regional sales offices and six manufacturing plants across the United States. It had furnished buildings all over the world: apartments, hotels, hospitals, colleges, embassies, and federal facilities.
Its products were used in high-security government sites, including post offices, military installations, and even the U.S. Embassy in Havana. And perhaps most impressively, Lockwood hardware was installed in two of the most high-profile projects of the mid-century: the Atomic Energy Plant in Paducah, Kentucky—at the time, the largest contract ever awarded by the U.S. government—and the United Nations Headquarters in New York City.
At the company’s 1952 sales convention, there was a sense of unstoppable momentum. Lockwood had survived the Great Depression, pivoted to war production during WWII, and emerged in the postwar boom stronger than ever. Yet today, more than seventy years later, the Lockwood name is a ghost in the American hardware industry. So, what happened?
Let’s rewind to 1964. That year, Cleveland-based Cole National Corporation—the country’s largest manufacturer of key blanks—acquired Independent Lock Company (better known as Ilco), along with its subsidiaries Keil and Lockwood. This merger meant the two largest key blank producers in America were now under one roof. It didn’t take long for regulators to notice.
In 1966, the Federal Trade Commission filed a complaint, citing antitrust violations. The FTC ordered Cole National to divest Ilco and its holdings. In 1967, Ilco, Keil, and Lockwood were sold for around $6 million to a private investment group led by businessman Frederick Coker. Cole National financed about half of the deal, with a note for roughly $3.2 million.
Coker’s plan was to take the company public, reduce debt, and modernize. But when early profits looked strong, they delayed the IPO, hoping for better valuation. That gamble backfired. Lockwood had locked itself into fixed-price contracts with major automakers like Ford and Chrysler. As inflation surged in the late 1960s, those contracts became liabilities. Rising costs crushed margins, and profits quickly evaporated.
Meanwhile, Lockwood’s manufacturing infrastructure was stuck in the past. After three decades of steady success, the company was now bleeding money—hundreds of thousands of dollars a year.
Enter Sidney Saginor, a former Ilco executive who had joined a new company called Unican. In a bid to save Lockwood, Ilco brought Saginor back to lead a turnaround. Despite his best efforts, the hemorrhaging continued. That’s when Aaron M. Fish stepped in.
Fish was the founder of Unican, a rising Canadian manufacturer known for its innovative key systems and push-button locks. He had long been interested in acquiring Ilco and had close ties to Saginor. Through those connections, Fish learned that First National City Bank of New York had taken control of over 93% of Ilco’s common stock and was quietly looking for a buyer.
In 1970, Fish got access to Ilco’s financials and toured its factories across the U.S. Most other suitors quickly walked away after seeing the outdated facilities and bloated costs. But Fish pressed on. In early 1971, he began formal negotiations.
The process dragged on for months. Joe Cole of Cole National, eager to recover his company’s loan, facilitated talks through Exeter International. Fish submitted multiple offers, each one rejected. But he persisted. Finally, in September 1971, First National City Bank signed the agreement. In January 1972, Unican acquired majority control of Ilco, including Lockwood.
Now in charge, Fish wasted no time. He honed in on Lockwood as the biggest problem.
“After decades as one of the most respected brands in the industry,” Fish later wrote, “Lockwood had descended into disorder. Its designs, equipment, and manufacturing methods were obsolete—leading to frequent breakdowns, slow production, high scrap levels, and unsustainable labor costs.”
His solution was drastic. He eliminated over 12,000 components from Lockwood’s catalog, mainly focused on mortise locks, trim hardware, and exit devices. “Frankly,” he said, “I’d be glad to eliminate them all.”
He consolidated Fitchburg operations from five plants down to three, and in 1973, he canceled $250,000 worth of outstanding orders. Even so, Lockwood remained a burden.
By 1975, Fish had had enough. In an internal report, he declared, “Lockwood is a cancer.”
Facing an EPA violation deadline and mounting losses, Fish decided to shutter the division. That summer, he struck a deal with hardware entrepreneur Lloyd Matheson. For $25,000, Matheson acquired Lockwood’s lock tooling, designs, and master key systems. For another $10,000 upfront and $190,000 on a payment plan, he took control of existing inventory. Unican retained the Lockwood name for use in key blanks, which Matheson agreed to purchase.
Fish later admitted that if not for a contract with Atlantic Hardware in New York City, he would have fully phased out the brand. But the Atlantic deal had to be honored. Instead of fulfilling the order directly, Fish and Unican struck a compromise: Atlantic would accept a $50,000 cash settlement on a $100,000 balance and receive its hardware through Corbin. With that settled, Fish was finally free of what he called the Lockwood “ball and chain.”
But this isn’t where the Lockwood story ends.
While the American brand faded, a parallel history was unfolding down under.
Lockwood-branded products had been manufactured in Australia since the 1940s, licensed by a company called Ogden Industries. In 1977, Unican reached a formal agreement with Ogden. For $250,000, Ogden secured exclusive rights to the Lockwood trademark in Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, and the Philippines. They also received non-exclusive rights to use the name in other international markets, excluding North America.
Ogden also agreed to distribute Unican products like key blanks and duplicating machines as part of the deal.
In Australia, the Lockwood name thrived. The company’s double cylinder deadlatches and high-security deadbolts became top sellers. By 1990, they had produced over two million units. Ogden modernized its Oakleigh facility in 1986 and celebrated its 50th anniversary a year earlier, in 1985.
In 1993, Ogden was acquired by Email Ltd., and the following year, Lockwood was merged with Whitco under a new entity: Lockwood Australia Limited. In 1999, ASSA ABLOY bought a 50% stake in the company, and in 2001, it purchased the rest, bringing Lockwood fully under the ASSA ABLOY umbrella. Lockwood Australia remains a major brand in the region to this day.
Back in North America, Lockwood limped on. Lloyd Matheson continued producing hardware under the Lockwood name for several years. In 1997, he sold the business to Winter Rose, who then passed it to Mascoma Savings Bank. Eventually, it was sold again to Magnokrom Inc., which rebranded as Lockwood Industries Inc.
Today, Lockwood Industries operates in Burlington, Ontario, still producing specialty door hardware. It’s a far cry from the heyday of the 1950s, but a small piece of the legacy lives on.
So next time you pass through a commercial building, pause at the door. That lock, that closer, that piece of hardware just might be a forgotten thread from Lockwood’s long and winding story.