This Side Up

Foremost a friend

By JOHN HOWELL
Posted 3/3/20

You could set your watch by Harvey Davies. If you didn't see his Cherokee outside Davies Service Center in Conimicut, you knew it wasn't quite 8 a.m., although the lights would be on and you could see the heads of the "e;coffee committee."e; Of course that

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This Side Up

Foremost a friend

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You could set your watch by Harvey Davies.

If you didn’t see his Cherokee outside Davies Service Center in Conimicut, you knew it wasn’t quite 8 a.m., although the lights would be on and you could see the heads of the “coffee committee.”

Of course that wasn’t their name – they really didn’t have a name – but that’s the way I thought of them. This was more than a bunch of guys who enjoyed one another’s company. They knew what was happening in the world, the state and the neighborhood, whether it was the Williams Shields Post at one end of Conimicut or the point park at the other end.

I’d stop in to schedule an oil change, see if a hanging tailpipe could be fixed or inquire whether I should be concerned by my check engine light. More often than not, however, my stop was to see what the guys were up to and learn the latest gossip.

If my stop was on a Tuesday or Thursday, I’d find Harvey leaning on the counter perusing the Beacon. There were sure to be questions about the coverage and what was happening in the city. And then I’d learn stuff I didn’t know. The committee sat in plastic chairs and depending on the topic would chime in with nuggets of additional information, but more frequently their take on events. It made for some lively discussions, but never did I hear Harvey raise his voice or see him become agitated even when the conversation strayed to a topic that I knew bothered him – taxes and the cost of doing business.

It was Harvey’s control and projection that things would work out – even in his own personal situation when arthritis practically crippled him – that was so reassuring.

Harvey would look under the hood, listen to the engine, poke a few things, tell me not to worry about the check engine light but drop the car off for a more thorough look at the end of the week. I’d leave the car and go to work.

That night I’d find the car in my drive. It ran fine. The engine light was off. There was no bill, no indication of what he’d done. In the morning, I’d swing by the station. The committee was in session and after catching up on the news, Harvey would give me the scoop on the car and I’d write a check.

I heard a similar story from one of the hundreds who attended Harvey’s memorial service Saturday at Quinn Funeral Home. Many years ago he stopped in to see if Harvey had a tire. Harvey looked at the car, realizing immediately that the vehicle was in desperate need of not one, but four tires. The man told Harvey he didn’t have the money for the tires, but Harvey went ahead and changed them. A good time later, the man showed up at the station to pay Harvey. It had been months and there hadn’t been so much as a single call.

“‘What took you so long?’” the man remembers Harvey asking him good naturedly. “You know,” the man asked rhetorically, “I wonder how many never paid.”

My guess is that were many, but I can’t imagine Harvey ever held anything against his debtors. It was not in his nature to hold a grudge.

But as I also heard Saturday, Harvey was as punctual in the evening as he was in the morning. His neighbors could count on him showing up at 5 p.m. when the workday is done before heading over to the Shields Post or the Elks Lodge for a drink and to hang out with the gang.

When the “for sale” sign went up at the station and it was obvious Harvey’s long tenure as village mechanic and host of the coffee committee would be coming to an end, I stopped in to hear what he planned to do in retirement. His arthritis was troubling him, but he didn’t complain. He talked about getting to some of those things he wanted to do, although I couldn’t imagine him doing anything other than being there for others. I pulled out a note pad and started taking notes. Harvey didn’t want me to do a story, so I never got the history of how he started the station or the tales of all the people he knew and situations he encountered.

When I think about it, that would have been interesting, but I didn’t need to do an interview to know what’s important about Harvey. He was a friend to many.

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