Lemay Video

By Michael Mann

A postal worker walks into Lemay Video at 224 Lemay Ferry Rd. “Hey John, how ya doin?”

“Oh, you know,” John says as he leans on the counter. “Always busy. What’s goin’ on?”

The postal worker wasn’t there to drop off any mail. “My TV’s been making this funny humming noise,” the mail man says and mimics the sound.

Without hesitation John explains that the converter module needs repair just by the postal workers vague description. “Bring it on in and I’ll take a look at it.”

John Guenther owns Lemay Video, a movie and videogame rental store that thrived in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. In the early days the store survived by being the communities’ video rental store, electronics service played a minor role. These days it’s the electronic service that keeps the store going. There are a select few people that still rent movies or old Nintendo games, but when a man came in and asked if they still do rentals John replied, “No, we mostly do antiques now.”

While many children and teens of the baby boomer generation occupied their time by going to the movies, John liked to take things apart, see how things worked. “Always took things apart. New. Old. This is what I always did. [Upon putting things back together] And if I had parts left over and it worked, that’d be great because then I had a bonus.” After high school, John worked for a television repair parts distributor.

Self employed as an electronic repairman from 1985, John made service calls to Lemay Video. When the original owner of Lemay Video was liquidating and closing in 1989, John came along, bought the inventory and moved his service there. He was in the video business now, a successful video business, strange for a man who knew nothing about, or watched videos.

Not being into films, a soap opera plays on the mounted television in the corner, John developed a hobby of collecting film and pop-culture items that are proudly displayed around the store. Simpson’s dolls, Beavis and Butthead figures, and Jurassic Park toys line a shelf behind the counter. Because of John’s expertise in electronics, animated and speaking Toy Story toys above the entrance can be activated from under the cash register.

And the coveted Chucky doll from Childs Play. These days, a film is released in the theater and then released straight to DVD for a consumer to buy. It used to be that the film would be released in the theater, and then released to distribution companies that would only sell the films to video rental stores at $60 to $80 a pop. John had to buy six Childs Play 3 videos to get the Chucky doll.

John still takes pride in his memorabilia displays even though he doesn’t really rent movies out anymore. The video aisles are crammed with old TVs and stereos waiting to be serviced. Ten models of the same television line the front of the counter, a contract job with an area hotel. “It’s the servicing that keeps us going,” John says of Lemay Video.

The rental business died at Lemay Video in part because of the Blockbusters, Blue Boxes, Red Boxes, and NetFlixes, and in part the Flood of ‘93. “90 and 100 homes were lost. It was devastating,” John says. “There ain’t nobody around anymore.”

John takes pride in the past success of Lemay Video and his display scenes. He is certainly always busy with repairs. But what John seems to really have pride in, and miss tremendously, is the link to the community that the video store once provided. He pulls out a folder filled with thank you letters, Christmas cards, and photographs.

One thank you letter is from a 2nd grade class at Hancock Elementary. John unfolds the note. It has a crayon drawing and the entire class signed their names. “This must be twenty years old,” John says looking over some of the names. John repaired the financially strapped school’s VCRs for free.

In the folder, there are dozens of Polaroid pictures of customers who had won contests that John used to hold. There is even a picture of Vice-President Al Gore surveying the flood damage in 1993. John still wants to make a collage of the photographs he has.

Being an independent video store, Lemay Video could cater directly to the clientele. The most popular categories were horror and wrestling. “People in Lemay love wrestling,” John says. John set up an autograph signing session at the store with professional wrestlers Kevin Von Erich and Chris Adams. The line wrapped around the block. “Chris Adams didn’t show so they sent a midget,” says John showing pictures of the event.

John Guenther talks about Lemay Video as a father may talk about a successful son who has moved away and doesn’t keep in touch. He has pride in the success and sense of community that the store once had and yearns for the “good ole days.” But he knows those days are gone and will stick to the repair side of the business, what got him into videos in the first place.

And though there is not much of a community surrounding Lemay Video anymore, John still makes his mark on people. The postal worker whose television was making a funny humming noise was not inquiring about getting the set fixed. He had already bought a new one and was going to pick it up the following day.

“You can just have the TV John, if you want it?” says the postal worker.

“Oh, that would be great,” John says. “I can always use extra parts. We can set it on the ground right here by these TVs.”

Movies at Lemay Video You Won’t Find at Blockbuster

Though Lemay Video only rents to select people these days, by building rapport with owner John Guenther, one may become one of the select. Here are some movies you will never find at Blockbuster.

-The Many Taboos of Death pts 1-8
-Brush with Death
-Dead on Arrival
-Executions
-Death: The Ultimate Horror
-Faces of Death pts 1-6

These movies show real, actual video footage of people getting killed. These are about the only movies Lemay Video has on both VHS and DVD. As a horror buff told me, “That’s not oddball horror, that’s sick shit!”

And for the children:

-Almost the entire collection of Disney’s Sunday Night Movies