Fred Jones was a Successful, Early Black Car Dealer in Milwaukee

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Fred Jones Pontiac 1984 commercial

Fred Jones Pontiac 1984 commercial

In the rollicking springs of my Milwaukee youth, a young man’s fancy also turned to cars, as well as to love. But in those days, no Black man ever tried to sell me during visits to used car lots and new car showrooms. Black customers were common, but Black salesmen were strangers.

When I bought my first car as a gas-happy teenager—a 1954 Mercury in 1959—a white man in a white dealership sold me. It became the same with every new car whether in Milwaukee, Cleveland and New York. Tradition and brainwashing.

But along came Jones—that is, Fred Jones, a Brookfield Pontiac dealer in the 1980s. In those days, he broke ground by making a good living meeting and pleasing all manner of people, strangers included.

You see, Mr. Jones—then 41—is a Black man. And he was a stranger himself in 1982, when he entered what would become his showroom at 13000 W. Capitol Drive. Back then, you could count on one hand the Black new-car dealerships in Wisconsin, and not get past a few fingers.

Priorities and Goals

What made the difference? For his part, Jones credited priorities and goals. He established the former and used them to achieve the latter. “I made up my mind I wanted to go into business for myself, and with a little luck and a lot of hard work, I’m here,” he told me.

By 1987, Jones was still one of only four Black new-car dealers in Wisconsin. Yet, since opening up his spacious, sparkling emporium in April 1984—after two years of negotiations—he greeted a number of Black customers. Many who stopped by his dealership at the former Nelson Brothers Pontiac stand, were pleased as punch to see him there. Others—including whites—also bought a lot of cars and trucks.

For example, in 1986, Fred Jones Pontiac did $19-million gross on sale of 1,054 new vehicles. And while things slowed in 1987, he and his 14 salespersons—including three Blacks—knew how to get your attention—regardless of race.

Let’s Deal!

“About 90% of our customers are white,” he said, “which tells me people these days are more interested in the deal they’re offered and the car they’re buying than who sells it to them.”      

Jones felt a lot of folks here didn’t know he was Black prior to his series of TV commercials in 1986. And he thought the spots with white basketball player Jack Sikma, of the Milwaukee Bucks, were helpful in white and Black communities. 

Of course, Jones didn’t wake up one morning selling new cars in Brookfield. He paid his dues. A native of Mississippi, he came to town in 1958 and parlayed a high school education, some accounting courses, and a Post Office job into a plan for entering the world of business. After a successful stint at running a service station, he felt ready for bigger things.

Jones attended the General Motors Dealer Development Academy, trained here with Phil Tolkan Pontiac, passed the dealer skills exam, worked out financial details and was ready to run his own show. But he wasn’t sure Milwaukee was ready for him.   

“I didn’t meet the personnel at the dealership until the Friday before the Monday I was to take over,” Jones told me. “We talked at night because they wanted to keep my coming a secret.” 

 Proof of Success

 In the months following, Jones’ 59-employee operation on 5.1 acres proved a Black entrepreneur could succeed in providing goods and services to whites in Milwaukee, rated America’s fourth-worst city in economic opportunities for Blacks.   

 “It can happen here,” he told me in 1987, “especially if youngsters get good advice at an early age. So I tell them to stay in school, don’t get discouraged and keep on setting those goals.”

The versatile Jones later delved into the restaurant business as owner of International House of Pancakes in Milwaukee and New Berlin. Yet, his legacy as a pioneering Black car dealer here always will command center stage. 

Ironically, I thought of Jones a few weeks ago in Yonkers NY, as a charming Black saleslady at a Nissan dealership talked my head off valiantly trying to sell me a new, 2024 Nissan Z sports car. Her deal was the new car in trade for my gleaming, unmarked, 2006 Black Nissan 350-Z with less than 16,000 miles. Accompanied by my discerning wife, Susan, we said “no thanks.” Yet, the persistent Nissan dealer e-mails keep on coming. Whoa!

I wonder what Milwaukee’s Fred Jones would think about this? It appears that some things never will change in the wacky world of buying, or lusting after, a new car.  

Finally, the creative Jones was preceded in the 1960s by “Super Bill Suber,” a renowned Black used car salesman on Milwaukee’s mostly white South Side. Mucho props to him, and to Fred Jones.