Part 1 of 2:
“I’m sending my aunt to see you. She’s buying a new car. I’m telling you ahead of time to treat her right, not that I don’t think you would anyway. But I mean treat her right.” Doug Dvorchak was leaving nothing to chance. Tracy, his buddy from college, had been in the car game for long enough to know how to handle all different types of customers. But Tracy never handled anyone like Doug’s Aunt.
“Don’t talk down to her. Don’t patronize her. Don’t think for a minute that you can take advantage of her in any way,” Doug warned. “She’s a single, forty-year-old woman who will chew you up and spit you out if she senses you’re trying to pull the wool over her eyes. She’ll walk out in a heartbeat and drive all the way to Boston to buy the car if you cross her.”
“I understand, man. It’s cool. I’ve never let you down.” Tracy didn’t understand the fuss, but appreciated the heads-up. “I’ll handle her like she’s my own aunt.”
Tracy had been at Mraz Ford long enough to know that everyone who walked through the door was looking for a car, but they were all looking for a Ford for a different reason. He knew he had to find the reason each one had come in, and fully address it in order to make the sale. That’s what made him one of the most successful young salesmen at the dealership.
For her part, Elizabeth Dvorchak was a fairly imposing woman for her time. Forty years old, never married, and not one to suffer any fools, though she had been surrounded by more than her fair share for a long time. An attractive woman, without being a stunning beauty. A professional, who’d had to work harder than most of her male counterparts because women were meant to marry, have children, stay home and raise them in 1960 and she’d done none of those things. She had started out at Westinghouse in Springfield, but then was enticed to go to work for Bradley’s Department Store where she remained. The job at Bradley’s was well suited to her talents and disposition. Firm, but not unyielding. Authoritative, yet helpful. Customers trusted her and management knew they could count on her.
Elizabeth attended St. Catherine of Siena Catholic Church, and was a member of the Women’s Club. She’d attended the Springfield, Massachusetts schools and went to work for Westinghouse after graduation. Her family speculated on why she’d never married, but knew better than to actually come out and ask. They assumed she’d never met a man she thought worthy of what she had to offer. She was the rare woman back then who didn’t feel like she had to be married to be fulfilled. Being one of seven children made her more competitive and self-sufficient than friends of hers that came from protestant families. Survival of the fittest had its own rewards.
She’d been saving up to pay cash for a new car. It would be a Ford. Probably because her father, William, drove Fords and always swore by them rather than at them the way her uncles did their Plymouths and Chevrolets. She’d almost gone into the dealership in early fall of 1959 to buy her new car. But then she’d read in Popular Mechanics that the 1960 models were going to be all new and completely different from the ‘59s. “I’ll be keeping this car forever,” she told one of her brothers at a family gathering, “I don’t want it to be obsolete two months after I drive it home.” She waited until late spring to come in and place the order. “I want to drive it a full season or two before having it out on the winter roads. May as well keep it new looking for as long as I can,” she told a friend from the Women’s Club.
Tracey knew it was Miss Dvorchak the minute she walked through the dealership door on Saturday morning. She was attractive without being overly made up, and had a firm handshake. Handshakes were tricky with women and Tracy had learned not to extend his hand to a woman, but wait and only offer his hand only once she had. She was a professional and had the handshake of one. “Doug mentioned you would be coming by. I’m Tracy. I’ll be here to help you in any way I can with the purchase of your new Ford.”
She thought it a bit presumptive of him to assume there would be a purchase involved. She hadn’t really even looked yet. But then, being in the department store game, she knew that people really came in just to ‘browse’, even if that’s what they claim. She appreciated the firm handshake he returned. Firm, without attempting to be dominant. They had a walk around the showroom floor.
“There are basically three full-sized Ford lines being offered for 1960,” Tracy said. He guided her around the showroom, in between a couple of the new Falcon compacts, a Thunderbird coupe, in between a new black Starliner, white Sunliner convertible, and eventually over to a Fairlane 500 sedan. “From what Doug tells me, you’re looking for a full-sized Ford. May I call you Miss Elizabeth?”
“You may. And indeed, I am looking for a full-sized Ford. But nothing crazy,” Miss Elizabeth said. “An automobile is an appliance, not an extravagance.”
“Then we’ll stick with Fairlanes. All of the Galaxie models would be more than you are looking for, both in price and standard features.” Tracy guided her over to the Fairlane 500 sedan on the showroom floor. “Here is an example of one. I think you’ll find it has everything you would want, but nothing you don’t. It is the most popular Ford model of the year for 1960.”
He opened the driver’s door and encouraged her to take a seat behind the wheel. Miss Elizabeth was impressed with the size and comfort of the cabin, although she was put off by the two tone paint on the outside and the green interior. “The outside is a little flashy for my taste,” she noted. “And I’ve never been a fan of green.”
“Why don’t we order you the exact car of your choice? You can pick everything out and have it made exactly as you like it.” Tracy seemed to have found just the key to making the sale. “We can go over to my desk and go over all the standard features, available options, color and upholstery choices and tailor it to your needs.”
Miss Elizabeth recognized the fact that she was being tended to by a professional salesman. The things he was offering her are the same things she offered customers at Bradley’s Department Store.
The two of them made their way over to Tracy’s desk. He pulled out her chair for her as a gentlemanly courtesy, not condescendingly at all, and made sure she was comfortable. He went around to the other side of the desk and took his seat. He reached into the desk and pulled out the 1960 Buyer’s Guide with all the pertinent information he would need to sell her just the car she was looking for.
And thus, the process began.
16 responses to “MISS ELIZABETH BUYS A FORD, Part I”
Hmmm…Mraz Ford. Why do I get the feeling that Miss Elizabeth’s Fairlane 500 will be white with a blue interior?
Have you heard this story before?
Miss Elizabeth said, “I’ll be keeping this car forever…” ”
I certainly hope she doesn’t trade the Fairlane 500 in on a brand new Monte Carlo. When that happens, we know “The Rest of the Story”.
Call me crazy, but Miss Elizabeth doesn’t strike me as the Monte Carlo type. Probably to her benefit.
Having wrapped up my Bachelor’s degree at Ohio U. in the spring of ’71 – and joining the Army Reserve shortly after that – I was looking for a job to carry me through until I would be off to basic training. The Parts Manager at the local Chevy dealer was a friend of mine who knew that I’d had several years of part-time experience at a local ‘auto’ store. He mentioned that he could use a parts runner/back-up counter person. Minimum wage, but easy hours; and since I was living at home, it was just 5 blocks to the dealership. So, I jumped at the job.
While working there; I got to know Pat, the General Manager. Pat was an ex-Naval officer – and the owner’s son-in-law. He was your typical military officer… a by-the-book perfectionist. A few months into my employment, he called me into his office and offered me a salesman’s position. Ask a 21-year-old gear-head if he’d like to spend his time driving several different cars every day… well, what would you expect to happen? I took the job.
I knew right-away that I didn’t want to spend my whole life selling cars, but it was a great way to start out. I learned the auto business from the inside – along with most of its tricks. I also found the car I wanted to buy (a story for another time…) while working there. (A 1966 Nova SS ‘L79’ – which I still own.) And – I started dating my future wife after selling her a car! So many good memories!!
All that to say this: I learned what being a sales professional meant, as well as broadening my understanding of just how diverse the population of even a small town can be. I sold quite a few cars (and trucks) – both new and used, and did my best to be fair and honest with every customer I worked with – and made some friends along the way. So, I can identify with Tracy.
Fantastic story. You’ve set the bar high for Comment of the Week consideration.
So far, Tracy’s done everything correctly, especially the handshake part. I’ll be willing to bet that he maintains eye contact too. I hope for his sake that he has the ability to zip his lip and listen rather than spout. I’m thinking he will.
Keep your fingers crossed. We’re half way there.
Starting the story in Massachusetts? As a teenager my first job (which included tax withholdings at least) was at the first Stop and Shop / Bradley’s built outside of New England (in New Jersey) so this one brought back memories. I’ll be interested to learn how Miss Elizabeth finds her way down to Ft. Stockton. Are we seeing the back story to the Captain’s latest acquisition?
Stranger things have happened.
I hope Miss Elizabeth asks about the spare tire and how to use the jack!
The whole spare and jack thing can be tricky on a 1960 Ford, to be sure!
Something tells me that Miss Elizabeth won’t be going for the undercoating, tire protection package, extended warranty, paint protection, add on APR finance points, choke and croak insurance, roadside assistance, upholstery protectant, and/or a dealer prep fee. Especially the dealer prep fee.
Well — considering the Springfield, Massachusetts location, she might very well consider the factory undercoating, or maybe Ziebart,, which I had done to our brand new 1969 Pontiac Custom”S”, and later our used 1967 Citroen DS-21 when we moved to the rust belt in Ft Wayne, Indiana where salted roads were ubiquitous. She likely expected a full tank of gas, as did we, and inspected her new car with a fine tooth comb.
I’ll take the Sunliner convertible, thank you, like my friend “Bruce the Moose” had brand new in our senior year.
In a way, Miss Elizabeth and her independence reminds me of my Dad’s older and never married sister Norma – an exceptional lady who faced physical, financial, and business challenges head-on, became a manager and a union leader in a mans’ world, and always special to me.
Miss Elizabeth and undercoating. A match made in heaven.
The last new Ford I bought had MOST of those (except the undercoating & insurance), in addition to a few others (windshield protection, door guards, and window tint) that could not / would not be removed no matter what. “Take it or leave. Your call.” It was 2022 when there were about three vehicles on every new car lot. I took it.
Have not been able to get the taste out of my mouth since then, but then it’s only been little over two years.