Legends of retail: Bert Boeckmann

LOS ANGELES -- On a sunny October morning in Van Nuys, Calif., Bert Boeckmann showed up for work just as he has almost every day for the last 63 years. At 86, Boeckmann has some difficulty getting around these days. He got off his electric scooter and, with the help of an assistant, labored up the steps to his glass-walled office overlooking the showroom floor at Galpin Ford.

I couldn't believe my luck. I had shown up there that day to do a story on Galpin's Horseless Carriage in-dealership restaurant, one of many pioneering innovations Boeckmann has authored. I was due to meet the chef, Geovanni Euceda, and was not expecting to speak with the legend himself, whom I had never met.

Bert Boeckmann doesn't much like the term "legend."

"If I hear somebody use the word "legend,' I tell them "I'm still breathing,'" he says laughing out loud, something he does a lot. He's still working six days a week, as he has since joining Galpin in 1953.

Boeckmann is one of a select group of living legends who came of age just as the U.S. automotive landscape was changing dramatically. Import brands were launching their U.S. invasion. Small single-point dealers began giving way to larger multifranchise groups, and eventually big public companies entered the fray.

Those legends have straddled eras, surviving with a mixture of resourcefulness, grit, perseverance and innovation. We'll be visiting with some more of them in coming issues of Automotive News. They cut larger-than-life profiles as auto dealers. It's a profession that has a way of attracting room-filling personalities.

Like many of them, Boeckmann, who started life in Depression-era Glendale, Calif., didn't aspire to a life as a car dealer.

"The last thing I would have thought of is selling anything. We had eggs and apricot trees. My brother and I would go up and down the street selling them. My brother would go to the door because I was so shy."

Boeckmann really wanted to be a career military officer, having attended the Reserve Officers' Training Corps in both high school and college. But when the Korean War broke out, he already had two children.

Fortune intervened. Boeckmann stopped by Galpin Motors one day in 1953 as a favor to a friend, who had seen an ad soliciting salesmen and asked Boeckmann to keep him company.

"I said I had no interest. But I went with him. We both ended up working there. He lasted six weeks, and I've lasted 63 years."

Boeckmann quickly worked his way into management and bought out owner Frank Galpin bit by bit, taking control by 1964. Early on, when the economy was in recession and the dealership was in financial trouble, Boeckmann worked so hard that he didn't see much of his family.

"That first year I took over we were in a recession and out of trust. I worked all but two days. I'd come in at 8 in the morning and would leave at 8 at night. Later I said: Was I cheating the kids? But I thought it had to be done to save the company." 

Operating in the heart of import-happy California, Galpin Ford has been the nation's largest Ford dealership 27 years running. Galpin Motors is 32nd on Automotive News' list of the top 150 dealership groups based in the U.S. with 23,664 new vehicles retailed last year and more than $1 billion in revenue. In addition to Ford, Galpin has Aston Martin, Honda, Jaguar, Kia, Lincoln, Lotus, Mazda, Subaru, Volkswagen and Volvo. 

Peter Welch, president of the National Automobile Dealers Association and former president of the California New Car Dealers Association, says of Boeckmann: "He still has his finger in everything. He's one of the best operators I've ever crossed paths with, and I've seen a lot of them." 

When Boeckmann finally reached the top of the stairs, a little out of breath, I walked over to greet him and introduced myself, telling him I had come from Automotive News in Detroit and wanted to convey greetings on behalf of my boss, Keith Crain. 

What came next was a little bit of magic. Boeckmann's face lit up; he cracked a broad grin and waved me into his office as if I were the most important person in the world -- which is what I was at that moment. 

We mostly exchanged small talk. An assistant entered to remind him to take his medication, and he obliged, pulling a pill dispenser from under his desk. He looked at me conspiratorially, chuckling at his own absent-mindedness. 

When the conversation turned to the Horseless Carriage restaurant, Boeckmann said with characteristic modesty: "It was really Galpin's original idea," The Horseless Carriage opened in 1966, when founder Frank Galpin was still a partner in the store. 

Although Boeckmann became owner in 1964, he kept the Galpin name, another modest gesture. 

"For two sound reasons I didn't change the name," he says. "I worked hard for the Galpin name so I was proud of it." The second reason has to do with spelling and pronunciation: "If I said I was "Boeckmann,' how would you have looked up my name?" 

Boeckmann credits Frank Galpin with coining another concept: Galpinization, customizing a stock vehicle. Boeckmann says Frank Galpin gave him the idea more than a half century ago when customizing a 1953 Ford to look like a Lincoln. Boeckmann invented the name and made a thriving business out of it. 

NADA's Welch says: "They customize a lot of vehicles. You'd go to one dealership and everything was stock, and you'd go to Galpin and they'd have rims or pinstripes or spoilers. 

"A lot of people want a vehicle that looks different, particularly on the west side of Los Angeles. They'd customize different interiors. They'd put different types of seats. The sky was the limit if you wanted something customized." 

Along the way, Boeckmann has built a far-reaching business empire that has included gold and diamond mining in Sierra Leone, motor home sales, real estate and resort development, ranching in California and Oregon and even TV documentaries. 

But it all comes back to Galpin in the end. 

Boeckmann put his glass-walled office above the showroom floor for a reason. 

"I can see across street to the other dealership" that sells luxury brands. "I can see the activity on the showroom floor. Also people can see me. If they want to see me, they know they can come up the stairs and I will talk to them. 

"But I just love the business, love the people."