HOBART, Ind. – At the end of the 81-year marriage, the Isaksons said goodbye by turning off the lights. The partnership was over.
The Chrysler sign went dark.
It was an unceremonious finale to a four-generation bond between one family and one company, but it was not a surprise. Rob Isakson had known for weeks his dealership was on a Chrysler hit list — the cuts were part of the troubled automaker's survival strategy.
Still, when the moment arrived, he did not go gently into the night.
"It hurts," he says. "How do you put into words 81 years of your family's blood, sweat and tears? How many times did my father miss some family event ... because the business came first? And all of it is for nothing now."
It has been a wrenching few weeks, beginning with Chrysler's notification in mid-May that the family was losing its franchise. The word came in a form letter. "How insensitive is that?" Isakson asks.
Then came futile efforts — through calls and e-mails — to find why they were being dropped, even though they say their sales were better than some dealers that survived.
Executives defended their moves as necessary, however painful they might be. Chrysler's president told lawmakers in a recent Senate committee hearing that the poor performance of many dealers costs the company $1.5 billion in lost sales each year. The automaker also said it wanted to bring all three of its brands — Jeep, Chrysler and Dodge — under a single roof.
The Isaksons — who sell only Chryslers and Dodges — say they can understand cuts. But why punish them? Their sales, they say, have been good (about 205 new cars, 150 used in 2008). They point out they've received high marks from customers.
And as far as being a burden, Rob Isakson says that's ridiculous.
"We buy our own cars, every tool ... every part," he says. "What are we doing that's costing Chrysler money? We're doing nothing. All we're doing is creating more market for them. What's wrong with that?"
What has irked the Isaksons even more is the Obama administration's intervention in the auto industry.
"Starting in Washington and going to Detroit, all the way down, I blame everybody for this," says Eric Isakson, Rob's 32-year-old son. "How can someone tell us when we've done everything that we're supposed to do that we can't keep going on? It's a big slap in the face."
Somehow, though, this story seems to be too good to be true, coming from the AP.
I wonder if we're going to find out that the Izakson family is one of the few Democratic donors to have been closed.
Are the Izaksos' being used by the AP to gradually spin the story before it gains legitimacy in the eyes of the public?
We shall see.