Driven by demand Osborne Village rental biz founded nearly 80 years ago has thrived by catering to public’s shifting needs Made in Manitoba
By: David Sanderson Posted: 10:50 AM CDT Friday, Oct. 25, 2024

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 25/10/2024 (643 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

According to an article in Rental Equipment Register magazine, the industry got its start in Van Nuys, Calif., during the Great Depression.

One afternoon in the early 1930s, a business owner named Sam Greenberg was approached by a person in desperate need of a truck to move his family’s belongings. The fellow had noticed one stationed outside Greenberg’s establishment, and he offered Greenberg $5 to borrow it for a few hours.

Times were tough — it had been a while since Greenberg had made a dollar, much less five — so he responded affirmatively, a move that ultimately led to the formation of Sam’s U-Rent, arguably the first dedicated rental enterprise in North America.

Sam’s U-Rent may be long gone, but here in Winnipeg, Moxley’s Rentals at 181 Osborne St. continues to lease a plethora of commodities, everything from wheelchairs to air compressors to step-ladders, almost 80 years after Clifford (Merv) Moxley, who died in 2019 at age 101, founded his namesake biz in 1945.

A few weeks ago, Merv’s son David, 73, who began working full-time for his dad in 1969, and who keeps a binder full of memorabilia associated with the venerable, family-run operation behind a cluttered front counter, received an early 80th anniversary gift from a woman living in Warren, Man.

She was having some renovations done to her home, she told him, when a contractor happened upon a slip of paper bearing a Moxley’s Rentals letterhead, tucked behind a wall that was being exposed.

“It’s made out to a Mrs. Gagnon and is a receipt for $4, for a monthly radio rental,” Moxley says, seated in his 750-square-foot premises, which also offers key-cutting and knife-sharpening services.

The married father of two grown sons smiles, saying the yellowed slice of history reminded him of a loyal customer who rented a 20-inch television set from his father for years on end, at a cost of $15 per month.

“It may sound like a ridiculous price to pay, but when that set eventually broke down, he turned around and started renting another, no questions asked,” he says.

“It’s just like how some people prefer to rent an apartment versus buying a house or condo, simply because they don’t want the responsibility of ownership.”

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Merv Moxley was born in Rivers, 40 kilometres northwest of Brandon. After working at a Portage la Prairie diner owned by his parents, he moved to Winnipeg in 1937 and promptly caught on at a downtown Salisbury House, where he was paid the princely sum of $1.50 a day, plus a free meal.

He enlisted with the Canadian military in 1941, to serve overseas in the Second World War. He was trained as a gunner with the Royal Canadian Air Force, before eventually achieving his dream of piloting a Spitfire, his son says with a hint of pride.

The elder Moxley returned to the city at the conclusion of the war. His plan was to continue slinging bacon and eggs at Sals, only that failed to materialize when he requested a weekly salary of $50, and a new manager refused to budge from a counter offer of $40.

“The way I understand the story, my dad’s brother Lloyd — my uncle — was a real Mr. Fix-it, and the two of them decided to market sewing machines and vacuum cleaners, while also offering repairs,” Moxley explains, noting Moxley’s original location was one door over from its current digs, in a space now occupied by Chinese take-out spot Oriental Bowl.

But since sewing machines and vacuums were prohibitively expensive to buy in the post-war era, the same way video-cassette recorders cost close to $1,000 when they were introduced in the late-1970s, people began asking the pair about rental possibilities instead.

That caused Merv and Lloyd to think hmm, maybe that was an avenue worth pursuing.

Early on, supply would have been driven largely by demand, Moxley says. If a party approached his father and uncle looking for something the shop didn’t stock, be it a typewriter or rotary tiller, they did their best to make it available the next time the person visited.

“I learned a long time ago that if I buy a quality piece of equipment, it’s going to last and I’ll make money … On the other hand, if I buy a piece of crap, it’s always going to be a piece of crap.”–David Moxley

Moxley, who grew up in Fort Garry, guesses he would have been 14 when he started assisting his dad on evenings and weekends.

“I did deliveries for an electrician for maybe three weeks after graduating from Vincent Massey (Collegiate), but other than that, this is the only place I’ve ever worked,” he says, mentioning his father was heavily involved with the Shriners International organization.

That’s the reason a back door is as wide as it is, so his dad could walk a beloved Harley-Davidson motorcycle through it, to perform oil changes and such, between tasks.

Let him think about that for a sec, Moxley says, when asked about the last new piece of equipment he would have purchased for rental purposes.

Home gyms were all the rage for a while, and he invested in a fair number of treadmills and elliptical machines, probably 20 years ago.

He also picked up a wallpaper steamer not too long ago, as well as a couple of gas-powered plate compactors, the sort of device used to compress soil or whatnot, ahead of building a patio or driveway.

That said, if there is one piece of advice his father instilled in him, it is never to cut corners when he is shopping for this or that.

“I learned a long time ago that if I buy a quality piece of equipment, it’s going to last and I’ll make money,” he says, running a hand through a long, grey beard.

“On the other hand, if I buy a piece of crap, it’s always going to be a piece of crap.”

As for what condition goods are returned in, Moxley is happy to report that “99.9” per cent of the time, items are brought back precisely as they exited the building.

Sure, his father used to tell a story about a woman who almost burned down her home by misusing a rented blowtorch, but he can’t personally recall the last time a bike-rack or carpet fan came back appearing as if it had been mistreated.

He likes to think the general public feels a sense of responsibility to look after something that isn’t theirs, he offers as a possible explanation.

Obviously there’s a deposit involved — it’s not like one wants to forfeit their $100 or whatever it is he charges them temporarily — but even if that wasn’t the case, it’s his belief that he would still have a pretty good success rate

(He laughs, saying one of the main reasons there is often a waiting list for one of his 40-plus trailers — instantly recognizable for the black-and-yellow stencilled Moxley’s Rentals crest on the sides and back — is that half-ton truck owners are terrified of scratching their own vehicle.)

Moxley, who pulls in bright and early at 7 a.m., Monday to Saturday, can’t say for certain whether he will follow in his father’s footsteps, by staying on the job well into his 80s.

Neither he nor his wife have ever been much for travelling, mind you, nor does he have any notable hobbies, so what reason is there not to report for work, if only to see what the day brings, he allows?

“Realistically, if I had to pay a landlord, Moxley’s would no longer be here, but the great thing is that we own the entire building and rent — there’s that word again — to the two businesses next to us, the restaurant and a tattoo parlour,” he goes on.

“Plus, thanks to my dad, we also own the two-storey place on the other side of us (dually occupied by pop-culture emporium Urban Waves and used-record depot Old Gold Vintage Vinyl), so for those reasons we’ve been able to remain financially viable.”

By the way, if you are ever looking for a staple gun or power rake for the day, you’re going to have to dial Moxley’s directly, versus typing an email or leaving a message in a “contact us” box.

Moxley’s Rentals has never had much of an online presence, nor is there such a thing as an answering machine on-site, its owner reports.

“If somebody calls when I’m dealing with a customer, I’ll answer and say hi, but then I leave the phone off the hook, until I can get back to them,” Moxley, the lone employee, says with a shrug.

“Most of the stuff I do here isn’t critical, so if I have a doctor’s appointment or whatever, I’ll throw a ‘back in 30 minutes’ sign on the door. If I lose a bit of money, so be it.

“I’ll still be here tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.”

david.sanderson@freepress.mb.ca