Ray Odom was a horse trainer and owner of KHAT, the most famous country western radio station in Phoenix, AZ.
He trained and ran his horses at Turf Paradise, a thoroughbred racetrack on Bell Road in North Phoenix. I was a horse handicapper and writer for the Phoenix Gazette and spent a lot of time at the track. Ray and I became good friends.
He and Jack Karie, a police reporter for the Arizona Republic, introduced me to Slim Sarwark, a colorful character who owned racehorses and who operated Miracle Used Cars at 35th Avenue and Grand Avenue in Phoenix.
Slim had a Texas sense of humor and was a brilliant marketing expert. He put up a large sign on his property that stated, 'If it runs good, it's a Miracle!' Other signs had painted eyes staring at you with the words BUYER BEWARE, while still others warned customers, 'When you drive it off the lot, it's yours.'
The negative advertising worked. It sold a lot of cars for Slim. I even bought one from him. It ran great until the engine blew a week later. Slum muttered, 'Must have been something in the oil.' He reluctantly replaced the broken car with another one that ran better.
During the late 1970s and early'80s, I wrote articles for magazines like People Weekly, Country Style, the Star, Globe and National Enquirer. My editors loved stories about celebrities, especially country western singers. I began hanging out at places like Mr. Lucky's, Magoo's, and J.D.'s Riverbottom where the top country western artists performed.
Mr. Lucky's was the largest country western nightclub in Arizona. It had parking space for 6,000 cars and featured a top country band upstairs and a rock band downstairs. The place was packed every weekend.
My sister, Debbie, worked as a cocktail waitress at Mr. Lucky's. She was in a key position to keep me informed on who would be appearing at the club and even where they were staying. That gave me easy access to contact them and ask for an interview. They rarely turned me down. I met some country legends, including Ray Price, George Jones, Willie Nelson, Roy Clark, Tom T. Hall, Loretta Lynn, Charlie Pride, Tanya Tucker, Barbara Mandrell and Glen Campbell.
I was at Mr. Lucky's the night Campbell introduced his recording, 'By The Time I Get To Phoenix,' to the world. The song was incredible. It impressed me so much that I called Ray Odom at home just as he was getting ready to go to bed. I told him about Campbell and predicted 'Phoenix' would be named the best country western song of the year (It was).
'I'll be right down,' he said. 'I'll bring a tape recorder to do an interview.'
The interview went so well Ray played it for his listeners the following day. He also instructed his deejays to play 'By The Time I Get To Phoenix' over and over again. The song became a smash and sold millions of copies for Campbell and composer Isaac Hayes.
Slim Sarwark's tactics on his car lot eventually got him into trouble with the authorities. The state's Consumer Protection Agency launched a criminal investigation and even my newspaper got involved. We had a column called 'Answer Line' with a couple of investigative reporters who represented our readers who felt local businesses had defrauded them.
One of our reporters was Norma, a sharp, attractive redhead. After receiving a number of complaints against Miracle Used Cars, she began contacting Slim to see if he would resolve the problems. Slim was always polite to her and promised to take care of them when he could get around to it.
Slim never got around to it.
Norma had a temper and one day she let it fly. She called Sarwark and exploded over the phone.
'Damn it, Slim we've been at this thing with you for months. You haven't done a thing to satisfy the complaints of these customers. Tell me the truth -- you have no intention of doing anything about this, do you?'
Slim had a slow Texas drawl. 'Well, Norma, honey, I'll be honest. I like you. Most of my customers are flakes. They are poor credit risks who can't get credit anywhere and that's why they come to me to buy a car. My advertising warns my customers that when they drive one of my cars off the lot, they own it, period. And that's the way I see things. Now if you'll excuse me, honey, I have a customer waiting.' And he hung up.
A month later the State of Arizona moved in on Miracle Used Cars. It was too late. Slim had shut down his operation and left the country.
Two months passed. One morning a postcard from Rome addressed to Norma was delivered to our newsroom. It depicted a castle with a moat and it was from Sarwark. He had drawn a circle around the castle.
The postcard read, 'Dear Norma, honey. This is my summer home. Just goes to show you what a man can do when he's an honest used car salesman in Phoenix, Arizona.'
Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.
(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).
