Jack Roberts, wild pitchman, dies
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Jack Roberts wasn't the first business owner to make a spectacle of himself on television in an effort to boost sales, and he won't be the last.
But in the Northwest, he was one of the most memorable.
Mr. Roberts, 64, known for dressing in outlandish clothes and screaming "I won't be undersold!" before getting slapped in the face with a cream pie thrown by his wife, died Wednesday morning (April 10) after a three-year bout with inoperable prostate cancer.
Services are scheduled for 1 p.m. tomorrow at Northlake Christian Church, 19029 North Road, Bothell. A reception will follow.
Mr. Roberts parlayed his hokey, high-pressure style into a successful chain of appliance stores from Everett to Tacoma.
He sold the stores two years ago and retired but continued working as a TV spokesman for some car dealerships in Snohomish County, where he lived with his wife, Linda, and their three sons in the small town of Clearview.
The advertising executive who helped develop the TV spots said Mr. Roberts early on figured out how best to market himself by employing the "I won't be undersold" phrase.
"That created the perception that his prices were the lowest, which they weren't, but that was the perception and that's more important. And that's where Jack was the king," said Brett Stevenson, owner of Stevenson Advertising in Seattle.
Mr. Roberts was heavily influenced by the 1970s success of local sledgehammer-swinging car dealer Dick Balch, Stevenson said.
Balch's popular TV spots, in which he would cackle loudly while trashing new cars, helped make his Federal Way dealership one of the top Chevrolet franchises in the nation.
That unorthodox, carefree style, Stevenson said, also suited Mr. Roberts, who often did the exact opposite of what is considered good TV manners. For example, he stared at his cue cards.
"He was pretty much impossible to coach," Stevenson said with a laugh. "He wouldn't flub very much, but he would put his arms out and wave them in no relation to what he was saying."
Mr. Roberts was able to afford expensive TV commercials because he got appliance makers to help pay for them in exchange for selling large volumes of their goods, Stevenson said.
That began to change, though, in recent years as appliance superstores moved into the area and took away Mr. Roberts' clout with the manufacturers, he said.
He opened his first store in Lynnwood in 1973 and at one point, the chain had five stores. Today, there are three that still carry his name.
His off-camera persona was quite different from what people saw on TV, Stevenson and others said.
They described him as a reserved, churchgoing man who enjoyed being with his wife and children, coaching youth basketball, playing tennis and ministering to men at the Snohomish County Jail, a few of whom he hired after they were released.
"He was very kind, very soft-spoken, believe it or not," said the Rev. Greg Ishmael of Overlake Christian Church, in Redmond, which Mr. Roberts attended until transferring a few years ago to a smaller, daughter church in Bothell, Northlake Christian Church.
Mr. Roberts had celebrity status at Overlake because of his TV spots but didn't like to talk about it, Ishmael said.
"I would try to joke about it and he would try to change the subject," Ishmael said, adding that Mr. Roberts would explain that the commercials were simply something he had to do to make a living.
But Ishmael said the entertainer streak ran deep in Mr. Roberts, who stood 6-foot-3 and once played basketball for the Washington Generals, the former foils of the Harlem Globetrotters.
Mr. Roberts, who was born in Wisconsin, began his career as an appliance salesman at age 19 when he was offered a job while buying a washing machine during a lunch break from his factory job in Waukesha. Several years later, he began working for a small manufacturer and eventually landed in Seattle, where he became sales manager for Westinghouse. He quit that job six years later when he refused company orders to shave his mustache and struck out on his own.
In addition to his wife, Mr. Roberts is survived by their three sons, Taylor, 18, Trevor, 11 and Tanner, 9; three daughters from a previous marriage, Chris, Robin and Wendy; four grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.
Bill Kossen can be reached at 206-464-2331 or at bkossen@seattletimes.com.