Ron gearing down at Danny’s transmission
After six decades in the business, 83-year-old hanging up his wrench
Ron Woodworth, after almost 60 years in the business, has decided to make the transmission into retirement.
Did I say transmission? I meant transition.
But, really, it’s all a matter of torque, shifting gears on the drivetrain of life, isn’t it? And who’d know more about that than Ron?
He’s 83 now — “don’t tell everyone,” he admonishes — still comes into work every day at Danny’s Transmission, where he’s been since 1963.
But not much longer. Thursday is his last day.
The big “Danny’s Transmission” sign on Sanford near King is already down. It took a big crane, winches and straps to un-mount the thing, a fixture there for decades.
So what happened to Danny?, I ask. “There’s still a Danny (Danny Docherty), but I bought (the Hamilton store) in 1971.” Ron kept the name.
Ron’s had an amazing run of it ever since. Danny’s Transmission now is one of very few transmission-dedicated shops left in the area, and it’s where many vintage car owners bring their beauties to be worked on; when I visit Ron there’s a knockout ’67 Ford convertible on the hoist.
“I still love coming in every day, interacting with customers, the business, having fun, the challenge of the work.”
You can tell. There’s a metal table in the shop and laid carefully on it are the parts of a disassembled valve body, the control centre of a transmission.
He explains to me how it works, how the whole kit of various pins and plates, sealing sleeves and piston seals fits together, and how the fluid runs through the maze of worm tracks and channels in the valve body.
There’s such an elegance and precision to it that you can understand the enduring appeal of the work.
So I had to tell you he’s 83 because you’d never believe it otherwise. He looks much younger, fit from work and from playing hockey regularly with the oldtimers’ league at the quad pad.
“They won’t let me quit. I’m the oldest and, if I do, someone else will be.”
He used to play fastball with Dundas Fastball League, “but I realized my day was over when I couldn’t keep up with the pitching.” So he took up martial arts. He’s a black belt in karate.
Working in the transmission business, says Ron, also tunes up another part of you, the psychological.
“You have to deliver bad news sometimes and you have to learn how to do it gently. It’s a good skill.” Transmission repair is about as expensive as car work gets. “It’s the sword in the chest,” says Ron.
Because of that, a gratifying part of the job is finding ways to save someone a lot.
Ron recalls a fellow who came in with an oil pan “leaking like a sieve.” Ron studied the job, and then gave the man advice about how to sequence the repairs. “Saved him the best part of $900.”
“I enjoy what I do,” says Ron, “but the time has come. It’s a good thing for me right now. But there are mixed emotions.”
So many to thank, he says. His customers, suppliers, office person Brenda Collins, 45 years at Danny’s, now retired, Bev Hirski, her replacement, and Ron’s wife Judy. The place shuts down this week.
Clay Kingsnorth has been working here for 20 years, raves about Ron as a boss and totally gets the retirement. Clay’s got plans of his own. “Go fishing,” he says.
And Ron? Spend more time with wife Judy and do fun home projects with his son Rob, transmission technician who also works at Danny’s, and Ron thanks him and Clay too.
“But it won’t be on cars,” Ron says.
Did he ever think, when he started in automotive, that he’d be working at 83?
“Back then I didn’t think I’d live to 80,” he says with a laugh.
Well, he did, and the best years might just be ahead of him. Smooth trails, Ron, and farewell, Danny’s Transmission, Hamilton.