Road that led to Longbridge crash
It was the last of the big British-owned car plants. For nearly a century the Longbridge site churned out some of the best known cars on the country's roads, from the Austin Seven and the original Mini to the Allegro and the Metro.
It's name changed repeatedly, from Austin to BMC, British Leyland to Rover Group.
But it was as MG Rover that Longbridge finally ran out of road. Exactly 10 years ago today administrators from accountants PricewaterhouseCoopers were called in, signalling the death knell for a Midlands motoring giant.
A week later, with rescue attempts abandoned, the first redundancy notices were issued to MG Rover's 6,300 strong workforce. Despite mass meetings, protests and a march by workers' wives on Downing Street, it was the end of the line.
The repercussions were terrible. It is estimated another 3,000 workers at companies that relied on business from MG Rover also lost their jobs in the months that followed. Many firms were left struggling to survive, others simply went out of business.
Anger focused on the so-called Phoenix Four – John Towers, Nick Stephenson, Peter Beale and John Edwards – who bought the company from BMW for £10 when it was at risk of closure in 2000 and ran it until its final collapse.
It was learnt they had paid themselves £42 million in salaries and pensions over the five years, while their workers were left without even redundancy payouts. The massive £1.6 billion debts of MG Rover meant the 6,300 workers had to rely on state aid until they found new jobs.
Four years after the collapse nine out of 10 of them were in back in work, but a report by automotive industry expert David Bailey found that two thirds of former Rover employees were, on average, £5,600 a year worse off, struggling in service jobs, in warehouses or shop work.
Rover's legacy was one of debt and misery for many.
An Employees Trust Fund to help the cash-strapped workforce was set up, with promises of major contributions from the Phoenix Four, but these never materialised.
Instead of the promised millions, a paltry £23,352 and 10p was finally amassed. In 2012 it was donated by trustees to the Acorns Children's Hospice in Selly Oak.
Professor Carl Chinn, local historian and Express & Star columnist, was at the heart of the crisis. He was one of those who had originally welcomed the takeover, but five years later was a powerful voice calling for justice for the workforce.
He said: "Even today there is still a lot of anger, bitterness and disappointment. The anger is that it could have become a successful business, but was allowed to fail. The bitterness is for the workers who, in my opinion, have been betrayed. And disappointment that the West Midlands has lost a major manufacturer and a source of jobs."
It was all so different to its origins in November 1905, when Berkshire-born engineer Herbert Austin decided to buy a small, derelict printworks on the outskirts of Birmingham and produced his first car in March, 1906, at a price of £650.
The Austin Seven followed in 1922 and was a huge success.
But by 1968 governmental planners decided the UK's now struggling car companies needed to be welded together as British Leyland. It didn't work and seven years later the new company had to be nationalised.
After crippling strikes in the 1970s, Leyland was rescued by its new Austin Metro small car and, later, a tie-up with Japan's Honda. By 1988 Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was keen to see the renamed Rover Group privatised and sold it to British Aerospace. Six years on, Rover was sold to the BMW group but after years of losses it too decided to sell-up.
Apparently riding to the rescue, the Phoenix Consortium – led by former Rover executive John Towers – bought the factory for a nominal £10 in May 2000.
David Bailey, professor of industrial strategy at Aston University's business school, said: "If it had gone under in 2000 it was estimated 25,000 jobs would have been lost. As it was, when it finally went under five years later, 9,000 to 9,500 jobs were lost.
MG Rover was responsible for 0.5 to 1 per cent of the regional economy, so its loss was a huge blow. The most profound effect, of course, was on the workforce."
Despite the understandable gloom at the time, the UK car industry is now on a high, with West Midlands powerhouse Jaguar Land Rover selling more cars than Rover ever did.