(click here for part 1)

(click here for part 2)

by Chris Martin

Force had two more objectives in Bell Gardens and they were the areas of greatest influence and across the street from each other. On the northern corner of Florence and El Selinda was Mehr Auto Parts and on the southern corner, the trailer court where he was born.

Mehr Auto Parts was the first stop and it’s a good example of a style of store that once was very plentiful. The family-run business was housed in a yellow brick building with just one sign, a small T-shaped metal structure bannering the words "auto parts" screwed to the Florence side of the building. That design was common to the 1940s and ’50s and it and the trailer court looked like they’d been delivered by time capsule to their present location.

En route, Force explained the importance of the place and in particular its owner, Al Mehr. Force, to a certain degree, believes in management by intimidation. If the boss is dead serious in his goals and can teach his workers to share his dream and won’t take any crap on that point, he can be a success. That came courtesy of Mehr.

"My father was my father, but I wouldn’t call him a tyrant. Now, Al Mehr was a tyrant," Force exclaimed. "Oh, there was days when I wanted to kill him. He’d watch that clock and if I showed up five minutes late, man, would I hear about it. One time, he locked me out of the store.

"He’d tell me to look up a part in the catalogue and stand right over me and watch. A couple of times, I’d go right past the part and he’d let me have it.

Another time, we got some new hoses for a Toyota. Toyota back then was a brand new car on the market. He said, ‘We’ll call this fan belt number 192.’ Then I noticed that you had to move all these belts, there seemed like a million of them, just to get this one fan belt where he wanted it.

"I’d say, ‘Wouldn’t it make more sense just to put it on the end instead of spending two days moving belts?’ and he’s answer, ‘No, that’s the way I want it and I’m the boss.’

"He was a big-hearted guy, and used to give money to various charities and to some poor Indian groups in Utah, but he ran a tight ship and a successful one. Look at chain stores like Chief that have taken over. He still was a success and he did it his way. Coil told me, ‘Force, you’ve become like Al Mehr and don’t even know it.’"

The 1940s ambiance carried into the store where Force renewed old acquaintances. Behind the time-worn, store-length counter were ten rows of eight-foot shelves that must have housed a million different parts, and on the roof were fan belts and auto hoses, the very type that used to give Force headaches as a kid.

Business was fairly good according to Jason Mehr, the son of Al who passed away a year ago. The only drawback was there were seven active street gangs in the area and shootings were a fairly common occurrence. After a few minutes of shooting the breeze, Force left the store.

He did not go into the trailer court across the street, but instead got back into the Camaro which was parked on El Selinda. One might wonder if this was where he parked his ‘54 Chevy and listened to the Beach Boys when he decided that the trailer was too crowded and hot many years ago.

There was no one he knew living in the court now and the location of his Boeing Spartan could be seen from the street. It was time to buck L.A. rush hour traffic and head back to the shop.

"B.G. High was one type of education, this one was another," said Force, gesturing to the trailer court almost resignedly. "It all started here, but thank god, it didn’t end here. The basic truth is that it’s poverty. We’ve all gone through it at one time or another and it’s just a part of moving up the ladder, but there are things that create why you are what you are.

"I think one of the reasons that I fought so hard to get where I’ve gotten is where I come from. I had polio when I was a kid. I wasn’t born with it, but when I was a toddler, my mother noticed that I would fall down a lot. One day, it got to the point where I wasn’t gettin’ up, so my mom took me to the doctor. He said I had polio. Now, this was 1950 when there was no vaccine. The only cure then was to stick the kid in a tub of scalding hot water, so the muscles would relax and the blood would circulate. I had that done to me for a year. My father would do it to me, and my mom would have to go outside the trailer because she couldn’t stand to listen to my screaming. It made my father cry some times.

"I grew up a little wild. When my dad sawed my surfboard in half, he said he did it to get my mind right. He said, ‘You’re uncontrollable. You got a whole idea about how life should be and you’re wrong.’

"Life can be unbelievably tough. I remember when I was in junior high seeing these kids driving those Honda 50s and I couldn’t afford one. I wanted one so bad. My dad finally agreed to pay $50 down and that I’d get a job and make the $11 a month payment and we’d get one. One day, before the deal he said that he couldn’t even afford that and that I’d have to settle for a used Cushman.

That’s stuff you don’t forget.

"When I won [the Winston Invitational] a couple of years ago, I drove to this Honda motorcycle dealership when I heard that they had one of those bikes. They don’t make ’em anymore, but there it was in the packing crate. I snapped it right up. Coil asked me, ‘What in the hell did you do that for?’ I said because I didn’t have the money then, but I got it now and I still want it."

Force does have it now. He’s got four Winston titles, money in the bank, and has gotten his mother a new condominium. If there was something from his past that he wants as a trophy or memento, he has the wherewithal to do something about it. He also said to come up to his house some time and he’d gladly show it off.

The earlier mention of Coil made Force stop and pick up his cellular phone. He had to call the shop and check on something, but the phone stopped working. After a couple of futile attempts to raise his crew chief, Force tossed the phone down on the car seat and walked across the street to a pay phone along the outside of Mehr Auto Parts.

The complete contents of the call weren’t heard, but one key part was, "Yeah, we came out here, but it’s changed. It’s gone. B.G. is dead."

B.G. might be dead for John Force, but Yorba Linda is alive and well. For the past ten years, Force has owned a home on five acres of hillside that overlooks a valley intersected by the 91 freeway.

His two-story house is surrounded by a white picket fence and in his spacious driveway sits the ’94 Camaro that toured Bell Gardens, a new Dodge Viper convertible, and a new GM van. Throw in the family and two cats and a dog, and by all appearances Force has it made … until you run into the boss.