Pawnshop laurels - Mack Family - 4 generations of pawnbrokers.
I had heard this story when I was 6 years old – 1964. My dad Ron was 5 years into his pawnshop with my mom Judy. The two of them started Cameo Jewelry and Loan with $1,800.00 in a 1800 square foot store next to the Silver Dollar casino in downtown Reno. They went to Laundromats to purchase Men’s suits and various clothing that were left by unpaid cleaning charges. Had a limit on how much they could loan out each day. It was a day to day roller coaster for many years.
My dad was a frustrated scholastic. Wanting to be anything but a 3rd generation pawnbroker, he had achieved two graduate degrees, one in Law and one in Accounting while running his pawn business. When he finally completed the correspondence legal studies from La Salle Law School in Chicago, Illinois, his job offers did not measure up to the income his little pawnshop was providing his family.
Reno pawnshop’s had a unique opportunity than most pawnshops around the country. Tourism and Gambling was the backbone of downtown, and tourist loved to shop. They loved the journey into the many pawnshops in downtown Reno. Retail was where the opportunity of success was discovered.
This is a little back ground about my dad and this story is about a customer wandering in with a furry companion on day. A pet monkey.
My dad loved the zoo. He grew up in Oakland, California. As a kid he would go over to the other side and visit the San Francisco Zoo. When our family was young we would visit the Zoo and we would have to make the visit to the monkeys at every visit. I remember my dad, jumping up and down on his bed, acting out his monkey routine. It was gut busting funny!
This desperate customer had this monkey and my dad wanted it. A deal was struck - $600.00. My dad had brought home a Terrier one day that he had purchased in his store and was our beloved pet for years. Bringing home a monkey to the family, the excitement, the companionship, the illusion was a dream come true. My dad and his monkey a little more than hour together before all hell broke loose. Feeding him and wondering how my mom would react, the mood changed quickly when the monkey cocked his head from left to right looking for his missing master.
As my dad still tells the story, “the monkey went Ape Shit”. My dad’s tiny store was long and skinny with rafters on both sides. The monkey began urinating and defecating everywhere. For a few minutes my dad thought he could calm down his new companion, but plan B was the only option. He locked up his store, left the monkey, and started running through the casino’s in downtown Reno.
After running through the Silver Dollar, Horseshoe, Harrah’s and finally Harold’s Club, there was the man leaned over the crap table down $200 of the money my dad had given him. My dad convinced the man to give him back the remaining money he had left on the rim of the crap table, forget about the $200, and comeback for the monkey. They both whisked back to the store for the reunion of master and monkey. My dad was so relieved.
It took a month to clean the store and we don’t have to get into the detail of this effort, but the story lives on, is priceless, and still to this day, we love to hear “the story of the monkey”.
I had read a story of a similar tale from a pawnbroker in Georgia and never thought it was possible to happen twice, but I have found pawnbrokers love to take home pets. Zoo lovers, I guess.
From a fellow Pawn Broker - written April 12, 2012
Steve
I read with interest your story about your father buying a monkey
We had a similar story.
About the same time, around early 1960's I was about 6 or 7 when my father brought home a monkey he had traded for a guitar.
At the time, we had four kids all under 15 living at home. We thought it was great! We fed that thing everything you can imagine; leftover dinner, cereal, salad, candy and of course bananas. As you know, when monkeys eat, they must dispose of that food after it digests. And that monkey disposed of that food all over the basement.........much to my mother's dismay. She told my father....in no uncertain terms.....it was the monkey or her. Well, the next day when all us kids woke up, the monkey was gone. We never did find out what happened to it. Knowing my dad, he sold it at a profit.
Take care
Lou Tansky
President
Uncle Ben's Pawn Shop
Ohio Pawnbrokers Association
2600 St. Clair Ave,
Cleveland, OH 44114
216-325-5626
