See Cover: The curly blond hair suggests Liberace.
the gracefully gesturing hands Bishop Sheen, the aquiline nose, strong chin and steely blue eyes a Marshal Matt Dillon.
But it is the voice that seizes the listener —especially women. Out of the TV set it floats, low and pleasant, friendly and soothing, almost hypnotic. Behind it sits a sharply dressed, broad-shouldered six-footer, flashing smiles with neon-sign regularity and radiating a homeyness rarely found in homes. When the flow of words is finally finished, he looks straight into the listener's eyes and ends with a benison: "God bless you.'1 The man with the magic voice and manner is neither preacher, politician nor gunslinger—though he needs to be a good deal of each in his business. He is James Martin Moran. 42. the ebullient, aggressive and imaginative owner and president of Chicago's Courtesy Motor Sales Inc. To Chicagoans he is known simply as "Jim Moran. the Courtesy Man." Through hard work, hard sell and his TV pitches on behalf of his autos. Jim Moran has built his firm into the nation's biggest auto dealer in business at the same stand and the world's largest Ford dealer.
He has also become something of a TV personality; on the air he has held his own with Bob Hope and Danny Thomas, and in one Chicago poll he outran Ed Sullivan and Steve Allen in popularity.
Moran's biggest assets are an honest face and a folksy manner that send shivers up and down the stitching of many a wallet and purse. He is so effective that rival car dealers are driven to fury when they discover that their own relatives—even their mothers—are singing the praises of "that honest Mr. Moran." Brogue & Braggadocious. Though Moran's career as a dealer has not always encouraged a mother's unquestioning trust, his image as "that honest Mr.
Moran" is so firmly entrenched that competitors accuse him of "brainwashing"' the public. Half Irish and half Italian-German, Jim Moran has a sunny disposition and a natural liking for people—and for their money. To his showrooms from near and far he lures his prospects by constantly repeating and rephrasing his main theme: "We can save you so much money at Courtesy Motors." Never too insistent on correct English, he may add: "This may sound a little braggadocious. ladies and gentlemen"—and it usually is. He has even filmed his pitches from a hospital bed (where he informed his listeners that he was recovering from "an appectdomony"), ending the show by-blowing kisses to his wife and children at home.
Moran has a well-honed staff of 94 salesmen at his six-block complex on Chicago's West Side, but they are only shadows of the master. He personally sells more than 1.000 cars a year. He has an amazing memory for names, can make total strangers feel that he has known them for years. He touches the common chord with a heavy hand, chatting with women about their children, with men about sports. He plays shamelessly on nationalities. If the customer is Irish, he puts on a brogue. If the customer is Jewish or Italian. Moran has a few phrases to match, and he can put on a German accent worthy of Erich von Stroheim.
He also knows how to talk business.