Time is running out for beloved Houston electronics store, but owners are fighting to the end
Stepping into the electronic parts store is a lot like stepping into a museum – well, except for the shelves filled with microprocessors, circuit boards, electric motors, and other components stacked on the rafters.
Opposite the cash register is a working tube tester, where customers bring in vacuum tubes from old TVs, amplifiers, and radios to see if they’re still working. At the back, you’ll find Cold War-era oscilloscopes torn from decommissioned Navy ships. Near the entrance, a WWII hand-cranked telephone rings its twin near the back of the store. (And no, these are not for sale).
The Electronic Parts Outlet – EPO for its fans – is a survivor of another time, when do-it-yourselfers and hobbyists howled into amateur radios, repaired computers and restored classic televisions. But it is also the danger of following the path of countless other family-owned electronics stores that have vanished from city centers, malls, and shopping districts in recent decades.
Like all small players, EPO is under pressure from chains like Best Buy and e-commerce giants like Amazon. But for EPO, falling electronics prices not only make it harder to compete with large retailers, but also undermine a key customer base by making gadgets easier and often cheaper to replace than to repair.
COVID-19 also didn’t help drive customers out of the store’s narrow, cramped aisles
“This business is in decline,” conceded Chris Macha, co-owner of EPO. “I have to be honest with you, it’s hard.”
One of a kind
EPO is one of a kind in Houston, and possibly the United States. Founded in 1985 – Macha started working there in 1999 and bought it with Rick Zamarrippa in 2013 – the store has become a staple of geek culture in the region.
Customers with technical expertise run workshops on everything from vacuum tube technology to “the science of coffeeâ€. The store hosts technology exchange meetings and ‘robot battles’ competitions in which the robots try to tear each other apart, and promotes them in a mailing list with around 2,000 subscribers..
The EPO clientele ranges from professionals to students, from collectors to artists. Macha said he sold parts to oilfield technicians looking to fix downhole drilling equipment, a medical technician working on an MRI machine at Texas Medical Center, and a film producer looking to accessories.
There are so many items in the EPO, old and new, that it’s notoriously hard to find what you’re looking for. But that’s okay: hunting is its own reward.
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A glass shelf contains dozens of kits made from polished sheet metal to make models of the Eiffel Tower, the Beatles drum kit or classic cars. You will come across dozens of classic radios, a Japanese pachinko machine from the 60s, and steampunk masks that appear to be made of gears and pipes.
You can also find an old working foghorn. But, if you like your eardrums, don’t lean directly over them when you turn the handle.
Iris Story, 65, first arrived at the EPO in the mid-90s looking for an engine for a project for one of her students in Odyssey of the Mind, a global initiative that teaches kids from kindergarten to middle school to solve problems and think critically.
She remembered that Masha immediately greeted her, put her on the mailing list and toured the store, leaving her in a stir on endless shelves filled with vintage components and gear.
Story quickly became a regular, going with her students to EPO for wires, motors, circuit boards, and hobby kits. As a result, his house is filled with finds from EPO, including a Victrola phonograph.
“When I go out there to buy something, I’m exposed to other things,†Story said. “I once went back there and spent $ 400 just on… things. And it’s not me!
Beginnings
Longtime customers say the store hasn’t changed since original owners Michele and Daniel Bretch opened it in its original location, a few blocks near the store’s current home. on Fondren Road. From the start, longtime customers said, it was weird and crowded.
The EPO has followed trends in consumer electronics over the years. In its first incarnation in the 1980s, it was a destination for amateur and CB radio operators. Dan Johnson, 56, was one of the first EPO clients as a teenager and avid amateur radio enthusiast. He had become addicted and returned almost every weekend, he said, even as he grew into an adult and landed a job in the oil service industry.
“Even though I wasn’t buying anything, I would stop by on the weekends,†Johnson said.
As times have changed, so has the direction of the store. When the personal computer boom started and hobbyists were building their own systems, EPO stocked up on these components.
When Macha and Zamarripa bought the store from Les Bretches, Johnson said they brought in older technology, which the original owners did early on. The Bretches could not be reached for comment.
Johnson moved to Missouri in June to begin a new career as a long-haul trucker. He has said he misses his weekend visits to EPO and hopes his job as a driver ends up getting him through. The last thing he bought was, like the very first, radio related.
“I bought a lot of stuff from them; they treated everyone like gold, â€he said. “I really miss these guys.”
Hurry up
It’s unclear if the EPO will be there when Johnson returns. Macha said he has gone into “survival mode” to try to keep the store going, but EPO is facing some disheartening consumer trends.
The global consumer electronics market is huge, estimated at over $ 1,000 billion by market research firm Global Market Insights. But the industry’s transition to online sales is accelerating, claiming that retailer after retailer was selling consumer electronics and the components to build and repair them.
The most important of them: RadioShack. The retailer began selling amateur radio components in Fort Worth in 1921, and in its heyday had thousands of stores across the country as it expanded into general electronic parts, consumer electronics, and mobile phones.
But after bankruptcies in 2015 and 2017, the channel has all but disappeared. There are only a handful of stores left that are run by independent resellers. and a website owned by Retail Ecommerce Ventures, which owns traditional brands such as Radio Shack, Pier One, Stein Mart and Dress Barn
Other national chains, such as Circuit City and CompUSA, also imploded. Earlier this year, California-based Fry’s Electronics closed its three Houston-area branches.
Many local electronic parts stores have also closed their doors over the years. Only a few remain in Houston, including EPO, Ace Electronics, which dates from 1964; JPM procurement; and Directron, which is primarily mail order, but also has a walk-in store.
In addition to industry trends, EPO has been rocked by local events. Hurricane Harvey in 2017 did not flood the store, but it bankrupted many of the EPO’s business customers. Then, Black Friday 2019, a customer trying to park accidentally accelerated and walked through one of the painted windows of the EPO.
The storefront was barricaded until January 2020. “Customers thought we were bankrupt,†Macha said.
Then came the coronavirus pandemic. Like most retailers, traffic in EPO has plunged. It has yet to fully recover, with an average of around 80 customers today, up from 220 customers before the pandemic.
COVID-19, meanwhile, claimed a particular source of businesses, school projects, after forcing schools to close.
“Students came frequently, from elementary to college,†Macha said. “Not much more. “
Fight to the death
Macha and Zamarrippa have so far avoided laying off the store’s 11 employees, but it is difficult to fill positions when the employees leave.
Losing EPO would leave a difficult hole to fill in the local tech scene. On a recent Saturday afternoon, for example, five teams of robotics enthusiasts gathered in the parking lot for a “battle bot†competition.
The teams, some made up of children and parents, placed small radio-controlled robots equipped with wedges, jigsaws and hammers in Plexiglas cabinets that served as arenas. The goal: to neutralize the adversaries.
Sparks and coins flew. Tears flowed among the losers, who entered the EPO to purchase replacement components for the next round.
Bill Jameson, another longtime client, said he had been a marketing and business consultant for Macha and Zamarripa. Jameson, 80, is a former director of HAL-PC, the legendary Houston computer user club that was the largest of its kind in the country until he succumbed in 2014 to changing personal technology habits.
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EPO needs better marketing, Jameson said, but what makes EPO unique – the insane jumble of long-lost parts, gadgets and tech, and the treasure-hunting experience – is hard to market. . While some consumers might be blown away by all of this, others would find it overwhelming, frustrating, and not worth buying something.
“They love the eclectic approach,†Jameson said. “But at the same time, he’s their own worst enemy.”
For now, the change is not in the cards for EPO. Macha said he’s just trying to keep up with the payroll and keep the lights on, with little time to design marketing strategies, plan new initiatives, or explore different business models.
“I want this business to survive,†Macha said. “I have devoted a good part of my life to this. We are doing all we can to make this continue. “