ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, March 10, 1996 TAG: 9603080005
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARK MORRISON STAFF WRITER
THE OWNERS OF the Southern Pawn shop call it a ``working man's bank,'' where you can secure quick cash for your collateral. Just make sure it's not a manual typewriter.
John T. Chambers Sr. had a gun in his hand and a need for fast cash.
But don't get the wrong idea. The preacher and retired soldier didn't go on a crime spree for the few quick dollars he needed to buy a catalytic converter for his Subaru.
Instead, he turned to Southern Pawn, a downtown Roanoke fixture dating back almost to the turn of the century.
So did Hugh Martin, who needed money to buy medicine for his wife. A retired tractor-trailer driver, Martin went into the shop with an electric keyboard and a banjo he had never really learned to play and walked out with $85 in his pocket.
A loan.
This story doesn't really start with Hugh Martin or John T. Chambers Sr., however. You could say it starts with Queen Isabella of Castile, who is said to have pawned the royal jewels to finance the voyage of Christopher Columbus to America. Going even further back, you can find references to loans and pledges of personal property in the Old Testament.
Closer to home, the story begins with a man named Morris J. Schlossberg. In 1905 or 1907 or thereabouts, depending on the source, he opened a business on Campbell Avenue offering modest loans to people of mostly modest means. He called it the Southern Loan Office.
Schlossberg didn't discover a new world or anything like that, but he was described as ``thoroughly enterprising'' in the 1912 ``Illustrated Story of Roanoke - The Magic City.''
``He has plenty of money and is prepared to make the largest loan on any articles of value at the lowest rates,'' the book said. ``He is also very liberal in his terms. All business is strictly confidential. If you need money, you need not be afraid to deposit your most valuable diamonds, jewelry or other treasures with him. He also has many unredeemed pledges for sale, including diamonds, watches, rings, guns...and musical instruments.''
In this sense, not much has changed at the Southern Loan Office.
Except the name. Now, it's called the Southern Pawn Shop.
Schlossberg sold the business in 1959 to the Katz brothers - Sidney, Sol, Bernie and Ralph. They in turn passed the store along to Sidney's son, Ira, and Bernie's son, Stuart.
Otherwise, it's still a place glittering with diamonds and gold. It's still been around 40 years longer than the Mill Mountain Star. And Ira or Stuart will still give you a loan. Well, they will as long as you don't bring them something ridiculous for collateral, such as a typewriter or a record player.
``Things of the past,'' Ira, 47, calls these items.
``We try not to take in any merchandise that is not saleable.''
What's funny is that the first thing Ira Katz remembers selling at Southern Pawn was a typewriter. He believes he got $19.95 for it. He said it made him feel like salesman of the year. This was when he was just a boy of maybe 10 or 12, when he worked for his father at the store on weekends.
Under Sidney, Sol, Bernie and Ralph, it was a typical family business. A close group, the four brothers grew up on a farm along Franklin Road where Haley Toyota is located today. Their father was a Russian immigrant who settled in Roanoke and ran a used-hardware store on Church Avenue near the downtown fire station.
As young men, the Katz brothers followed in their father's footsteps. After World War II, Sidney, Bernie and Ralph opened a pair of hardware stores in downtown Roanoke - Ace Hardware, on Salem Avenue where the Fret Mill is today, and Economy Hardware, on what is now Market Street. Sol joined his brothers in the hardware business later.
The brothers struggled in the hardware business, perhaps because they were in competition with each other. But Ira says they didn't have much choice. They couldn't have run just one store. ``Too many bosses under one roof,'' he explained.
Then in 1959, the brothers bought Southern Pawn from the aging Schlossberg. Southern Pawn had two locations at the time - the Campbell Avenue store and another on Main Street in Salem. So, the brothers didn't have to all work in the same store.
Sidney and Ralph took over downtown. Sol and Bernie went to Salem.
The first item they took into pawn, according to family lore, was a pair of men's shoes. In exchange, the borrower got a loan of around $2. Ira says he's not sure whether the loan was ever paid back.
Probably, it was. Most of them are.
About 80 percent of Southern Pawn's customers are regulars who pawn and borrow and reclaim often the same items over and over again. Like 66-year-old Hugh Martin, who pledged his banjo and keyboard. He has been a regular customer for 50 years.
``Only when there's something real needful is when I come in here,'' he said.
After four months, Martin paid back the $85 he borrowed, plus $17.85 in interest and a $2 service charge, and reclaimed his possessions. He said Southern Pawn has been like a safety net for him. ``I would have gotten the money somehow or another. I would have sold parts off my car or something. But this is easier.''
Ira knew early on that he wanted to run the family business someday. He always loved working there.
``There was always something different on the shelves. As a kid, you wanted everything,`` he said.
His hobby was photography, and the pawn shop kept him stocked with the latest equipment.
``It was unusual for us to go out and buy something new. My father would say, `Why would you want to go out and buy something when we have one in the store?'''
Ira graduated from Patrick Henry High School in 1967 and from the University of Richmond in 1971. His degree was in business administration. He worked for three years in Atlanta and returned to Roanoke in 1974.
He has worked at Southern Pawn ever since.
His cousin Stuart eventually joined him, although his entry into the business was less deliberate. Stuart, 45, also graduated from Patrick Henry High School. He spent a year at Virginia Commonwealth University, briefly flirting with the notion of becoming an FBI agent. Then he dropped out.
``I didn't have dreams or aspirations to work anywhere,'' he confessed.
So, for five years, he traveled - to India, to Spain, Iran, Turkey and Central America - coming home to Roanoke in between to earn enough money for his next excursion. Often, he worked at the pawn shop.
His father hated Stuart's gypsy lifestyle. He tried to persuade him to settle down, but he couldn't. Not until recession hit in 1974.
``When the money crashed, it wasn't so cheap to travel abroad anymore,'' he said. ``I used to live on like $4 a day.''
He settled in at the Salem store alongside his father and uncle.
``I knew this was easier than laying brick or building swimming pools,'' he said. ``Plus, there weren't a lot of other options when you drop out of college after one year.''
Stuart worked in Salem until the family closed the store in 1985. Then he moved to the Campbell Avenue location that he now operates with Ira. Stuart is listed as secretary/treasurer. Ira is listed as president. They took over the business when the last of the brothers, Sol, retired in 1991.
Soon after, Ira installed computers and unplugged the 1920 cash register that had dutifully handled all of the shop's transactions through almost seven decades.
``They say every new generation wants to put their stamp on the family business,`` Ira said.
The computers help keep track of the 8,000 items that are either for sale or in pawn, plus they help in processing the 750 loans the shop averages each month.
By far, jewelry sales and pawns account for the greatest portion of business. The shop has almost 1,000 wedding bands in stock alone.
Ira and Stuart love jewelry.
``I get excited about diamonds,'' Ira said. ``I get excited about large diamonds. I get excited about antique jewelry.''
He was on a roll. ``I get excited when I see customers in a buying mood.''
In their jewelry cases, the owners have everything from wedding bands for $39.50 to an antique diamond-and-ruby pin worth $6,500, and they recently sold a 3-carat diamond engagement ring priced at $12,500.
By contrast, they also sell postcards for a quarter.
And just about everything in between: used power tools, decorative collector's plates, luggage, autoharps and accordions, pool cues, guns, rollerblades, chess sets, compact discs, handcuffs and knives and swords, baseball cards, even kazoos. Much of it is stuff that customers pawned and never reclaimed.
Under Virginia law, a pawn shop is required to keep a pawned item in storage four months. After that time, if the owner hasn't repaid his loan, the shop can sell the item.
But that doesn't mean Ira and Stuart will accept anything as collateral for a loan. They won't take animals, for instance.
``As a strict rule, we don't take in anything we have to feed,'' Ira said.
Or clothes. Ira's father stopped dealing in clothes 30 years ago.
They have, on occasion, taken in some pretty unusual things, though. They took in an assortment of gold teeth. They also accepted a matching necklace and belt made of $10 gold pieces that was owned by a gypsy.
Transactions are done on a case-by-case basis, and usually they involve more common items like stereos. They also usually involve a little old-fashioned haggling, which, in this age of bar-coding and Wal-Marts, is sort of charming.
Like on the recent morning when the woman came in carrying a television.
Ira plugged it in to see whether it worked.
``Would $40 help you out?'' Ira asked her.
She needed more, she said.
``Do you have the remote control?''
She didn't.
``With a remote, I might be able to go more.''
They negotiated back and forth.
Finally, they agreed on a loan of $50.
Both seemed happy.
``It's not like being Crestar or First Union, where you go by the book,'' Ira said later.
Critics of pawn shops say these types of short-term, high-interest loans are a bad deal for consumers, particularly for the working poor, who can least afford them yet are the most likely to turn to such alternative sources of credit.
In Virginia, pawn shops are allowed to charge 10 percent per month on a loan of less than $25. They can charge 7 percent per month on loans between $25 and $100. And for loans of more than $100, the rate is 5 percent per month.
The rates are lower than they are in many states. Still, if calculated annually, they translate to interest of 120 percent, 84 percent and 60 percent, respectively - much higher than more mainstream sources of consumer credit, like home equity lines and credit cards.
Ira isn't especially bothered by such criticism, although he hesitates to call pawn shops ``poor people's banks.'' He prefers ``working man's bank.''
``I mean, what do you say is poor?'' he asked. ``I think that's sort of derogatory.''
He also contends that it's misleading to say he charges interest of 120 percent annually. The average loan he issues is $50, he said. Most are paid back within a month. That ends up costing the customer $3.50, plus a $2 service charge.
``The theory is that it's for a short-term period,'' he said. ``It might seem large, but it's less money than a returned check fee on a bounced check.''
It doesn't go on your credit rating, either, if you fail to pay your debt. You simply lose the item you put up as collateral.
``That's the basic premise of a pawn shop,'' Ira said. ``We're not going to call you up and hound you or harass you in any way to repay the loan.''
Nor do they ask any personal questions.
Ira has heard every sob story imaginable, but not because he ever asked. And, as befits his cards-close-to-the-chest pawnbroker's persona, he won't share any of them. Confidentiality and all that.
``When you get down to the root of all of them, it comes down to a common thread,'' he said, ``which is, for whatever reason, they need money.''
John T. Chambers Sr., the man with the gun at the top of this story, didn't mind sharing his story. He needed money for that catalytic converter on his Subaru. So he pawned a collectible gun he owns. He said he was thankful there was someplace to turn, and his comments echoed those of several loyal Southern Pawn patrons.
``They're kind of like family, you know. I come in sometimes just to talk,'' he said.
Certainly, this is a striking contrast to the stereotypical image of the wire-cage, bars-on-the-windows pawn shop on the edge of society and in the bad part of town. Southern Pawn can even claim among its clientele such dignitaries as Tom Jones, Bill Murray, Ricky Van Shelton, Quiet Riot and Natalie Merchant.
``Like everything else, pawn shops are changing,'' Ira said. Many of them are going more upscale. They work closely now with local police departments in keeping an eye out for stolen merchandise. In fact, a police detective visits Southern Pawn daily to check its records.
Ira also likes to point out that the store was featured once in the annual calendar of the Arts Council of the Blue Ridge. Last fall, it was added to the popular collection of Cat's Meow wooden miniature landmarks. Plus, the shop provides employment for eight people.
``We're definitely a part of Roanoke,'' Ira said.
He hopes to see the store carry on long into the next century. He has three sons of his own now, and although he isn't pressuring any of them, he hopes one of them will show an interest.
``I would hate one day for Stuart and I to have to make the decision that it's time to lock the door,'' he said. ``I think that would be a sad, sad moment.''
LENGTH: Long : 258 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: Photos by KEITH GRAHAM / Staffby CNB1. & 2. The Southern Pawn shop on Campbell Avenue in downtown
Roanoke is a family business. Stuart Katz (left in far photo) and
his cousin, Ira Katz (left), inherited the store from their fathers
and two uncles. COLOR
3. The need to buy a car part drew John Chambers to the shop.
color
4. & 5. The Southern Pawn shop is 40 years older than another
Roanoke landmark, the Mill Mountain Star. Hugh Martin (left)
recently paid off his loan and pickedup a banjo and keyboard, which,
he says, have been at the shop ``off and on for several years.''
color
6. - 8. Virginia Shrewsbury (left) enters an item into the store's
computer system, which the Katz cousins added in 1988. Longtime
store employee Carl Rose (right in top photo) shows customer Richard
Dennis some of the coins on sale at the pawn shop. Roanoke police
detective Dave Underwood (above) checks the pawn tickets at the
shop; in fact, a police detective visits the store daily to check
its records. color KEYWORDS: PROFILE