M&M Lumber: Three generations strong
Tulsa World – By SONYA COLBERG World Correspondent 9-23-14
Imagine the greenhorn employee at M&M Lumber scurrying from one end of the company’s 8-plus acres to another to attempt to fulfill a customer’s order. He stops at the front yard to ask if the tool is there.
“Nope. Might go check the order counter,” says a veteran employee.
The new employee misses the twinkle in the old-timer’s eye and hustles along the long stretch to the order counter. Then to dispatch.
“Not here. Check in at the door shop,” advises another employee.
The greenhorn takes off again, tongue hanging out as his search extends to the opposite end of the business. This is his first day at the lumber company at 47th Street and Mingo Road. So he’s not about to admit he’s never heard of the object of his search.
He’s looking for a “sky hook.”
The next new employee might be looking for a “board stretcher.”
Whitney McKellar, 40, and Sean Stevens, 40, let rip with big chuckles as they tell about the induction endured by each rare, new employee. These newbies’ search for nonexistent tools introduces them to both the store and its culture.
“That freshman’s being sent on a wild goose chase.
“And everybody knows how to play it. I’ve been through it, too,” said Stevens, drawing another laugh from McKellar, his wife.
The couple talked about the roots of the family business now celebrating 50 years since founders Jim McKellar Sr. and Ernest Miller established the company in Tulsa.
Bullets in Guadalcanal
Jim McKellar Sr. joined the Navy and wound up bobbing on a ship in the Pacific with his fellow Seabees during World War II. They were heading for Guadalcanal, the site of the first major offensive of the Allied forces against Japan.
Assigned to run a saw mill on the island because of his Tulsa lumberyard experience, McKellar found the available tools were so imprecise that the men called the mill “Thick or Thin.”
“How do you want it? Thick or thin?” millworkers asked when someone brought in an order because the wood could be milled into only the two general sizes.
“They kept bringing trees to be cut that were in the firefight from the night before. And the bullets would get caught up in the blades. It would dull their blades,” Whitney McKellar said, recalling the explanation by her grandfather, who died in 2001.
Though under combat conditions, the Seabees built air strips, medical units, wharves, bridges and roads to victory. They steadily carved a massive Allied bomber strip from the jungle’s mahogany and other hardwoods.
Just as steadily, McKellar carved out a legacy.
Back to Tulsa
After serving his country, McKellar returned to Oklahoma to work at several lumberyards. In 1950, he went to work for Ernest Miller at Tulsa Lumber at 42nd Street and Peoria Avenue.
McKellar and Miller became partners in the 2,000-square-foot lumberyard in 1964, changed the name to M&M Lumber and moved it to its current site at 47th Street and Mingo Road, next to the rail spur where they could unload rail cars. A few years later, McKellar bought Miller’s part.
In 1987, several years after a fire burned much of the lumber in the yard, the elder McKellar turned the company over to Whitney’s father, Jim McKellar Jr.
“Today M&M Lumber has increased its size to 10,000 square feet on eight acres,” said McKellar Jr., 70. “Our employees have more than 450 combined years of building material experience, which is because of our positive relationships with our loyal customers.”
Grandpa McKellar still came in just about every day after retiring and, with a coffee cup in hand, walked around to talk to everybody and point out that the caulking aisle was too crowded and the light bulbs were too high. He and his son also taught employees that orders are fulfilled on a word and a handshake. And that a man is as good as his word.
Though Grandpa McKellar is gone, his Navy uniform and his red Stingray bicycle still remain as cherished mementoes. And in the lumberyard that he cultivated for decades, Stevens and Whitney McKellar today happily share responsibilities with her father and mother, Ann, 72.
Though Grandpa McKellar is gone, his Navy uniform and his red Stingray bicycle still remain as cherished mementoes. And in the lumberyard that he cultivated for decades, Stevens and Whitney McKellar today happily share responsibilities with her father and mother, Ann, 72.
“We thankfully very much get along,” McKellar said. “A lot of people couldn’t work with their spouse sitting 5 feet from them all day long.”
Stevens said it’s unfortunate that more families don’t get to work together every day.
“They miss out,” he said. “We get twice the lifetime together.”