SINCE HE FIRST entered the retail car care business in 1966, Bill Simon has created a loyal following of customers through competitive pricing and consistent service, growing a once small operation into a multimillion-dollar tire enterprise. Simon has also made sure that anyone within earshot of a television or radio remembers him, thanks to homespun ad campaigns that have made Simple Simon a household name.

At an early age, Simon was forced to discover his own resourcefulness and tenacity. Raised on a farm in Elk City, Oklahoma, Simon was 9 when his father died of cancer. Simon went to work on the farm to help support his mother and eight siblings. He was drafted into the U.S. Army in 1959, worked in an Oklahoma oil patch and later moved to Baton Rouge.

Simon had few skills beyond the family farm, but with a growing family of his own to support, he searched tirelessly for the right job. He worked offshore for a period, drove a milk truck for a local creamery, sold insurance door to door and worked in automotive dealerships. Nothing felt right, he says, until the opportunity came along to manage an Esso service station in North Baton Rouge.

“It was the first time I was really happy,” says Simon, 80, who still comes to work daily. He dresses like everyone else on staff, in a work shirt with his first name stitched over the breast pocket. “I had customers who would drive out of their way to come see me because I treated them right,” he recalls.

From 1966 to 1975 in the Esso station Simon expanded its services, working 15-hour days, seven days a week, he says. Then, in 1975, he bought the property next door, opening a full-service tire store he named Simple Simon. In keeping with a practice he still maintains today, he peppered it with signs hawking low prices and great service. An advertising salesman from the Yellow Pages helped him come up with the boy in the beanie logo, derivative of the nursery rhyme. Simon added a tire in one of the boy’s hands and a wrench in the other.

After the Esso station closed next door, Simon bought the property, and in what seemed an unorthodox move, he converted it into a competing tire store. He called it Cheap Tires, and installed Peggy Simon as its owner and manager. He never promoted the two businesses as related, instead brilliantly allowing them to exist independently. Business soared at both spots. Simple Simon’s loyal customers became even more loyal, and a new fleet of patrons bought tires from its next-door competitor.

The years brought growth and expansion and community involvement. Simon is a passionate member of the Lions Club, and still works to promote the service organization’s summer camp for physically disadvantaged children and its work to cure childhood blindness.

Today, Simple Simon sees about $5 million  in annual gross sales at two stores, one at the original spot at Airline Highway and Choctaw Drive and another at Airline and Cloverland. He sells Goodyear, BF Goodrich and other national brands. In 2015 the business saw a 13% increase in total volume. In March 2016, the kick-off of the travel season, Simon anticipated doing $500,000 in gross sales.

Simon monitors sales today in the same low-tech manner he has from the beginning: with hand-drawn sales charts. His office, in fact, is papered with homemade bar charts and line graphs that help him track daily, monthly and annual sales. They’re created at a corner drafting table, and often include inspirational cartoons and sayings.

From the start of his retail career, Simon has put people at ease with his gift of gab and storytelling. He’s also demonstrated a keen understanding of consumer behavior.

“You have to take the doubt out of the experience,” he says. Consequently, he plies customers with as much information as possible, including eye-grabbing signage plastered to the walls of his stores. In addition, a recent 50th anniversary newspaper advertisement included a long list of tire sizes and corresponding prices intended to demystify how much tires cost, he says.

“A customer just has to look at this,” he says, pointing to the ad. “They look on their tires for the number and they can see what price those tires start at.”

Low rates and a clear explanation of pricing help get customers in the door, says Simon, while friendly and personal service gets them back for regular oil changes, brake checks and alignment. This strategy has helped Simon secure repeat business. He’s also been masterful at engaging new customers.

“Nine percent of people are ready to buy,” he says “And, 91% are getting ready.”

He’s accomplished customer engagement through years of wacky and memorable TV ads in which Simon appears as various characters, including a gun-toting hunter “mad at high tire prices” who takes aim at paper turkeys in a tree. He’s also been a “self-anointed five-star general” at war against high tire prices.

That particular campaign included a homemade bunker constructed from hundreds of hand-filled sandbags. After the ad was shot, Simon stacked the sandbags in front of his stores to reinforce his point.

But his most memorable character is the recurring “Momma,” a riff on Vicki Lawrence’s bossy grandmother sketch. Momma’s red lace-trimmed dress, hat and purse hang in Simon’s office. He thinks nothing of putting on the dress for ads and adopting a falsetto voice, all to spark attention and stand out.

“When people are finally ready to buy tires,” he says. “I want to be in their heads.”