Zach Stinnett owns two Tennessee body shops, in Maryville and Sevierville, the latter of which is on the “backside” of Dollywood, Dolly Parton’s theme park, which draws 2 million people a year. The area offers many attractions, including Great Smoky Mountains National Park. There are “a million visitors a month,” to the county, Stinnett said.
Adding to the draw: Depending on the shop, tenure, and other factors, Stinnett Collision offers staffers a slew of benefits. Imagine a package as a day at Dollywood: ice cream and cotton candy, along with local treats like butterfly pretzels and churro fries — and, according to a Stinnett job posting, employees are offered additional treats like these:
- Health, dental, vision, and $15,000 in life insurance, with inexpensive life, disability, and accidental death and dismemberment (AD&D) add-ons.
- 10 days of paid time off, starting from the worker’s first day, plus eight paid holidays.
- 3% retirement match, currently in a Simple IRA, moving to a standard 401(k).
Zach told Autobody News he’s not done yet. He’s adding a mental health component, which will likely include a couple of free sessions with a local therapist, and, according to the ad, “future equity opportunities (yes, you read that correctly).”
Not done yet: Slow and steady wins the race
Stinnett said of the last offer, “We haven’t started yet at location three or four.” It could be a “phantom stock” approach, with an offer of annual bonuses/returns based on an equity-like percentage, while Stinnett retains his actual legal ownership.
This is the sort of financial planning touted and taught by body shop consultants such as Matthew DiFrancesco of High Lift Financial. It’s in addition to the usual (for top shops) “competitive pay, I-CAR Gold Class shop [and] 20+ OEMs including Tesla and Rivian,” as the job posting concludes.
Stinnett said he’s added benefits gradually over the 10 years since he took over the original shop run by his dad and founded in 1965 by his grandfather. That’s in Maryville; the Sevierville location came along a few years ago when family friends offered a prepared space with little competition and $3.9 billion a year in visitor spending alone.
“A community lives here, too,” Stinnett said. The massive hospitality industry — accounting for 17% of jobs, according to county economic development figures — and growth mean high costs price out Stinnett’s employees, some of whom drive an hour each way to work.
That they do so already says something about technician tenure and turnover.
“It’s a very high cost of living,” Stinnett said. Think of areas like Aspen, Las Vegas, or even Silicon Valley, where the personality of the region overshadows what in most places is “everyday life.”
Speaking of costs … isn’t it expensive to provide all these benefits?
“It is. Turnover’s expensive too,” Stinnett said bluntly, leaning in. “And Target and Chick-fil-A pay twenty dollars an hour, entry level. Compete or complain, those are your two choices.”
Why do it all? It’s a mystery … sort of
There’s more to it, of course. That’s only Stinnett’s “just do it” distillation.
“You have so many people complain: ‘Do something about it,’” he said. “‘Take care of your people more, so you don’t have to worry as much.’”
Stinnett, 33, compared the situation to a Chinese finger trap: The more you strain, the tighter it holds. “You’re white-knuckling it the whole time.”
On gradually adding benefits, Stinnett said, “All this wasn’t just at once; we adapt to what we feel is the need.”
Let’s look at that last part. Sure, sure — don’t bite off more than you can chew, in planning or paying for new attractions at your collision shop. Disneyland wasn’t built in a day. But note: It’s also hard to explain. In fact, life’s best things — including the work we do and why we should care — are impossible to fully explain; they must be experienced.
Stinnett has lived a paradox of shop ownership: caring deeply, even sometimes desperately, about the cars — repairing them for safety with excellence — while seeing “there’s more to life than what we’re doing. We take care of people, which means more than just fixing cars.”
Everything’s important, and then, in a sense … nothing is. At least, not as important as caring for people.
Stinnett started with a book, Start With Why by Simon Sinek. The why combines both of the above: vehicles and those who fix them. “Why are you doing what you’re doing?” Stinnett asked, not rhetorically.
Some answers, erring, and details of details
For his “Tennessee two” — faith and family — he works with contacts at local churches to provide mental health help or to restore and donate cars, or gets involved when shop workers “walk through life” with a colleague who’s hit a rough patch.
And hey, things don’t always work as expected.
“We tried a four-day workweek,” he said, but then dropped it. He might try again. “It’s 52 days off a year. I believe in the concept, but I didn’t manage it the right way. It was chaos.”
Still, it all seems to be working.
Stinnett’s 36 employees have an average tenure of 10-plus years, one with more than 30, and another with 40-plus.
His larger, older, original Maryville shop does $500,000 a month; the smaller one in Sevierville is “still a startup” and brings in less than half that. Maryville could do even better, Stinnett said.
“I’m two techs short there for it to be optimal.”
He’s got the package for them and the purpose.
“We put more into the business, and I sleep really good at night.”
Not sure readers will understand. Recommend sticking with “benefits.”
Paul Hughes