Mourning on Melrose : Slaying of Popular Gas Station Owner Shocks Customers, Friends

Scotty’s Gas Station on Melrose Avenue wasn’t like any other gas station in Los Angeles.

With ‘60s rock ‘n’ roll blaring from speakers affixed to the station’s roof, siren-red gas pumps from the same decade emblazoned with “Scotty’s” instead of a brand name, and a 1777 American flag fluttering over the entire retro-scene, a driver could take in the surroundings and get “full service, at self-service prices.” Open just a year, it was Melrose de rigueur.

The station and owner Scotty Sachs even appeared in this month’s issue of Vogue magazine, in the background of a scene in which a model perches provocatively on a black BMW as Sachs pumps gas into the car.

But the gas station at 7372 Melrose Ave. that was owner Scotty Sachs’ dream child has been closed since Friday, the day Sachs, 39, was found shot to death at his home.

His body was discovered by employee Daniel Guzman, who said he usually met Sachs to open the station by 7:30 a.m. every day. When Sachs didn’t show up that morning, Guzman said, he went to the owner’s residence in nearby West Hollywood and let himself in with a key Sachs had given him. Guzman said he discovered Sachs’ body face down on the floor and called an ambulance.

Sachs’ death is listed as a homicide and is being investigated by the Los Angeles Sheriffs’ Homicide Bureau. The two deputies investigating the case did not return phone calls.

According to the Los Angeles County coroner’s office, Sachs died of multiple gunshot wounds. Because an autopsy report has not been completed, the time of death has not been established, coroner’s office spokesman Bob Dambacher said.

But several people who live near Sachs’ tiny bungalow on Curson Avenue corroborate stories about what they heard the night before Sachs’ body was discovered. The time varies slightly.

Bill Alan, an actor who lived next door to Sachs for 10 years, said he and several friends were watching television Thursday evening when the four men heard four or five pops that sounded like truck backfire or firecrackers. Alan said one of his friends commented: “Well, let’s hope that backfire is all that is.” Then they all went back to watching the television. Alan said he thinks it was about 11 p.m.

Another neighbor, who asked not to be identified, said he also heard popping sounds while watching television and that when it happened, he looked at the clock just in case it was something serious. The time, he said, was exactly 11:40 p.m. He went outside to look around and then heard a firetruck at the opposite end of Curson and assumed the sound was related to the Fire Department’s work.

Alan said Sachs had a rule about not letting anyone into his house after 10 p.m., partly because of the hours he kept at the gas station but also because he didn’t like to be disturbed after that hour--something many of Sachs’ friends confirm. In fact, Alan said, he and Sachs had not been on speaking terms at the time of Sachs’ death because Sachs had hung up on him when he telephoned at 10:05 one night.

“He must have known whoever did it, because he would not have let just anyone in after 10,” said Alan.

Richie Schwartz, another neighbor who heard popping noises late Thursday night, said Sachs had “a date with a girl” that night. “We saw her sitting in front of his house in her car. Her boyfriend was supposedly an ex-convict who was very jealous.”

Since Sachs’ death, the hip gas station has been transformed from a bustling scene to a somber one where bundles of flowers have been placed atop the pumps, inside a non-functioning hose and hung from the station roof. Incense and candles have been lighted and messages have been scrawled on the glass booth from which Sachs presided over the scene. A homeless man whom Sachs had befriended also left some flowers for him.

“Rest in peace Scotty” is painted on one side of the booth, “We Love You Scotty” on the other. Inside are an avant-garde photograph of a black restored Volkswagen bug, the page from Vogue where Sachs and his station appear, and a black-and-white abstract photograph of two clasped hands. Two vintage black-and-white postcards of his hero, The Doors’ lead singer Jim Morrison, are taped in one corner.

Early this week, friends and customers mourned.

“It’s a sad state of affairs when an innocent nice guy like that gets killed,” said Dennis Clark, owner of “Off the Wall,” an antique and collectibles store next to Sachs’ station. “I am very angry and very sad. . . . He was the nicest guy you’d ever want to meet, hard-working, gave everybody credit--’It’s OK, pay me later.’ He told me he wanted to open a radical station ‘where I am gonna check the tires and the oil.’ ”

Regular customer Bob Pulde drove up to Scotty’s, got out of his truck and stood shaking his head as he learned the news.

“What happened?” he asked. “That’s a real loss to the neighborhood, to the community. He was a very lovable guy and L.A. is a jungle with no personal touch. That’s why I came to this station . . . the smile, the personality of the guy. In the short time that he was here, he really turned the place around for his regular customers.”

Sachs, a native of Rochester, N.Y., graduated in 1974 from Kent State University in Ohio, where he studied theater. He moved to Los Angeles the next year. He studied acting under Estelle Harman and Jeff Corey and appeared in several plays. His biggest movie was “Hanoi Hilton” in 1987, in which he played a prisoner of war. When he was not acting, Sachs restored and sold Volkswagens and worked as a waiter and maitre d’.

Billy Weisz, a neighbor and friend of Sachs for 15 years, said: “The fellow was an actor first, but he was making his living as a businessman. He was a friend to me when I had cancer and when my mother died. It’s remarkable how much time he made for his friends for somebody who was so busy.”

Sachs is survived by a son, Dylan Michael Dorward Sachs, 11, of Encino; his parents, Peggy and Sheldon Sachs of Fort Lauderdale, Fla.; a brother, and a sister.

Friends said a memorial service will be scheduled soon in Los Angeles. The family requests that donations be sent to an education trust fund for Dylan Sachs at P.O. Drawer E, West Palm Beach, Fla., 33402.