For years if anyone in Clarkston slid off slippery roads, they could rest assured a red wrecker driven by Richard Morgan would pull them out.
With an rivaled consistency, Morgan was brewing a pot of coffee at his business bright and early waiting to explain the engine pings and car problems of the day to people in between stories about Clarkston’s history.
Morgan’s passing at the age of 90 on Oct. 22 leaves behind a legacy and void once filled by one of Clarkston’s most beloved faces.
‘He was fun for people who enjoyed talking to him because he carried so much history and saw the town change,? said his son John Morgan who began working at Morgan’s service station at the age of 12 in 1969.
‘We had a good mix of a father/son business relationship, but I always referred to him as dad at work and home.?
Morgan’s service station served as a stopping point for many residents and travelers over the years. All were greeted with the same warm friendliness he always conveyed.
‘I saw him on a daily basis. If he wasn’t there wondered why,? said Clarkston Police Chief Ernie Combs.
Morgan opened up what would becomes Clarkston’s most recognizable business in 1932 at the age of 16, starting his service station with a $200 loan from his grandfather.
‘He enjoyed having customers stop when we had the gas pumps because he enjoyed keeping in contact with people. Especially if they could come in and buy gas instead of a major repair and see them on a weekly basis,? said John who explained his father’s disappointment when gas was no longer sold in 1997.
An example of Morgan’s upbeat nature and permanence in Clarkston was demonstrated after a fire in 1977 forced a costly overhaul of the shop, including work on the gas tanks.
‘He never thought of retirement even after the fire,? said John.
‘When you’re retired, you get to do what you want to do. So I guess I’m retired,? Richard Morgan was quoted as saying in a release from Wint Funeral Home.
‘I have images of him shuffling through the shop. He never complained and he never said ‘I don’t feel like it,? said granddaughter Stephanie who also worked in the shop with Morgan.
Even after turning 90 years old, Morgan continued to work at the shop running for parts, sharing his expertise and doing other tasks helping the business flow.
‘He would be here everyday. Maybe 20 or 30 days in all these years did I arrive before him,? said John.
‘He’d be there two hours prior to the shop opening with a coffee pot, reading The Oakland Press and taking calls from the early bird customers,? said Fred Earnshaw of the Clarkston Police Department who visited Morgan nearly every shift he worked.
‘He’d tell you stuff about the icehouse in town or Henry Ford visiting. He was a real interesting guy? He was the kind of fella if you didn’t have him around you’d miss him and Clarkston will,? said Earnshaw.
Every morning a few friends or neighbors would end up gathering to chat with Morgan sharing in his stories and memories that remained sharp until he passed.
‘He had a lot of people who thoroughly enjoyed him and his stories. As much as he liked to tell them, he’d listen to them too,? said Earnshaw.
‘It was nice having Dick close to the police department because if we had questions about Clarkston’s history he was the go to guy,? said officer Alan Kitzens.
Mayor Sharron Catallo remarked about Morgan during the Oct. 24 City Council meeting.
‘He was synonymous with the village. He knew all of us.? If I had a ping (in my car) I would run up and get it taken care of by a man who had a deep caring for the community,? said Catallo.
Morgan served as a father figure to many. Adam Loomis, the fianc’e of his granddaughter Stephanie, who moved to the area from Cleveland saw Morgan as another grandfather.
At Morgan’s funeral, Loomis performed a version of Alan Jackson’s song ‘Little Man,? changing the lyrics to represent Morgan and what he saw on the same familiar street corner as a teenager to an old man.
‘The song was liked (by the family) which suited him, except for the part about the town falling apart. In his life he kept it together? The song (I played) was about someone who was a pillar of the community,? said Loomis.
Morgan was proceeded in death by his wife Dora on Feb. 19, 1989.
He is survived by three children, Nancy (George) Mantyla, Sally (Carl) Heitmeyer, and John (Connie) Morgan; nine grandchildren Richard Mantyla, Lori (Mantyla) Anderson, Tom Mantyla; Rick Heitmeyer, Amy (Heitmeyer) Rice; Stephanie, Sarah, Sam and Miranda.