Beyond financial success and the gratification of "living on his wits" as his own boss, Isenberg takes considerable pride in the extent of his influence. "It's a source of satisfaction for me. I have had a major impact on a major industry. Because of me, literally thousands of buildings have been built and millions of people have parts that weren't available to them before," he says.
Few recyclers or knowledgeable industry observers dispute this. "I went to one of Barry's first seminars and we all laughed at him," recalls Don Beagell, owner of Don's Auto Parts in Binghamton, N.Y. "His concepts were so far in advance of our thinking as junkyard operators. He was telling us we would pre-dismantle all cars, that we would store the dismantled parts indoors, and that we would actually merchandise them. Of course that is exactly what happened." Jim Seamans, a former yard owner and now owner of Recyclers' Supplies & Services, of Cape Coral, Fla., puts a finer point on the praise: "No one has done more to revitalize the recycling industry in the last 10 years than Barry Isenberg." Russ McKinnon, ADRA's executive vice-president, agrees.
There is not, however, unanimous acclaim for Isenberg. Some recyclers, especially the more independent types in a notoriously self-reliant industry, still brand him an outsider. Some carp that all he really did was steal the best ideas from the sharpest yard owners and spread them around. Others feel his presentations have gone a bit stale lately, that the industry needs fresh ideas. Notes Don Rouse, of AIM Systems Inc., of Jenison, Mich., the developer of a widely used inventory control system: "Overall, Barry Isenberg has helped the industry tremendously. But some consider him a bit eontroversial. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe his personality." Detailing his business operations, Isenberg has been known to boast that his favorite way of providing references is to tell somebody to "open up a telephone book and call 10 people." (A test, by the way, using auto salvage listings in 10 bigcity phone books, generated the following results: "Never heard of him." -- eight; "Can't say for sure." -- one; and one "Sure I know Barry, he's even stayed at my house.")
Yet overall, the praise all but eclipses the criticism. The words of Nevada yard owner Bill Ellis are typical: "I can't say anything bad about the man. With his help my business shot up from $60,000 a month to better than five times that. How much was he responsible for? I'd say at least 30%. And almost entirely because of him, I went after retail business. From 30%, it now constitutes 40% of my trade." Numbers like these, batted around the industry grapevine, have also helped make Isenberg's reputation, and they are no small part of the "pull" of seminars like the recent one in Atlantic City.
"I'd argue for totally predismantling an incoming vehicle," says Isenberg, about to hammer away at one of his central themes. The concept is no longer revolutionary, but just the same he receives some incredulous stares from a couple of recyclers seated to his right. The incredulity, in all likelihood, spurs him on. "Any part you believe you're going to sell -- remove it when the car comes in. In the long run you'll use half the labor, you'll provide faster service to your customers, and you'll sell higher-quality parts. How much more valuable is that Cadillac engine sitting clean on your shelf than still in the car out in the yard? By predismantling you'll avoid weather damage and vandalism.
"The disadvantages, you say? Yes, you'll need an excellent inventory system to be able to keep track of all those parts. And you'll need inside facilities -- racks and bins and pallets for storage. Let's look at how cheap it is, though." Quickly running through the necessary capital expenditures, Isenberg arrives at a figure of $9 per year to store a single engine. "If you control your purchasing, it's maybe 30 days before you sell that engine. An engine takes, say, 18 cubic feet to store. Now a starter is maybe 1/4 of a cubic foot, 1/72 as much space. . . about 14 per month to store indoors. Now is that worth it, to have those parts inside, cleaned and ready to go, instead of saying to a customer, 'Maybe I can have it for you Friday'?"
Intrigued, but still skeptical, one New Jersey yard owner chimes in: "This can't relate to everybody."
"Why not?" Isenberg shoots back. "Are you, excuse the expression, a junkyard? Or are you a producer or warehouser of automobile parts who is marketing them to the public? A basic criticism I have of dismantlers is that they don't think of themselves as merchants. If you were selling microwave ovens, would you ask your customers to walk over mud and gravel and into an old trailer body?"
A few minutes later Isenberg is running through some of the 1,500 slides he has brought along and evoking the kinds of "oohs" and "aahs" one typically hears at fireworks displays. "Here's a great operation, Vintage Auto Parts Inc., in Woodinville, Wash.," Isenberg announces. Vintage specializes in special-interest and classic cars and stores some of its smaller, more precious parts behind the counter in drawers lined in green velvet. "Now this is a true auto dismantler, a distributor of used auto parts, not a junkyard." Marv's Auto Dismantling in Sun Valley, Calif., explains Isenberg, always dismantles a wreck within two weeks of its delivery. No hulks litter the grounds, because once stripped of parts, they are carted to the shredder. "You've heard me say 'unseen, unsold.' Well, take a look at this." The next batch of slides displays a spacious showroom as spotless as a doctor's waiting room. On the far wall, painted yellow and blue in the geometric patterns of the company's logo, hangs a four-foot by eight-foot pegboard. On it hang a number of small parts -- wheel covers, FM radios, arm rests, and sun visors -- displayed much like socalled impulse items along supermarket check-out lines.
