Meet the man behind the JT car dealer commercials

As seen on TV: I want you to meet the consummate, commercializing car salesman known as JT.

Away from the cameras, I also want you to meet John Thomas Gandolfo, a graduate of the Villanova University School of Law and the grandson of Italian immigrants who made their way to America through the portals of Ellis Island.

Take One.

It’s a Monday morning at JTs Kia, just off Killian Road. The dealership is humming. In the showroom, extras for a new commercial are milling around, chatting with one another, checking their phones.

Cicely Smith tells me this will be her fourth JT commercial.

“It’s pretty easy. Just a lot of maneuvering around. JT is hilarious. His personality is just like you see on TV. Last time I was here, he bought us all Chick-Fil-A. We all ate together. And he always has his dog with him. He loves his dog.”

Sydney is a wire-haired fox terrier. She has one blue eye and one brown, and makes herself at home in the showroom, looking for anyone who’ll throw her a ball.

Sydney and I play for a few minutes, and when I decide we’re done, the precocious terrier promptly jumps in my lap. Friends.

Meanwhile, the assembled extras are called to the parking lot where assorted cars are getting a last dusting from the pollen and where the commercial will be shot.

JT, wearing a red tie and blue shirt, shows up. He smiles; he says hello. He looks at Cicely and sticks his hand out. “I’m sorry. I should know your name. Thank you for being here.”

To a couple that has appeared in a recent commercial, he says, “You’re our famous couple from last week. Welcome back.”

JT then pulls a comb through his hair. In his other hand, he holds a sheet of paper containing his commercial lines. Head down, he talks to himself, absorbed in memorization: “Time is running out on our biggest giveaway ever … time is running out on our biggest giveaway ever … then spin the prize wheel just for stopping by … then spin the prize wheel just for stopping by …”

JT looks up.

“All right,” he announces, “let’s do this.”

Extras take their places. Some will peer into car windows; others will open car doors and admire interiors. All of them are directed by Cliff Springs, chief operating officer of Genesis Studios in West Columbia.

He has specific instructions for Cicely. “I want you to walk between JT and the cameras. Makes it look busy.”

Then he turns to JT.

“Now JT, I want you to hug close to the car as you walk around. OK, here we go. Everybody’s happy, right? Smiling and happy. And everybody’s gonna go on ‘Action!’ OK, three, two, one, action!”

JT and Cicely run into each other in front of the car. Hardly a wreck. Not even a fender bender. But when it happens again, JT stops.

“What am I doing wrong?” he wants to know.

“You’re taking that corner a little wide,” Springs says.

Everyone goes back to their starting places.

Springs begins again. “Three, two, one – wait!” An announcement is blaring over the loudspeakers at the nearby Toyota dealership. When it’s over, Springs gives it another go.

“Three, two, one, action!”

JT cuts the corner close around the car and it’s a wrap.

Take Two.

On a Wednesday afternoon, several days later, I meet JT in his office at JTs Dodgeland dealership on Greystone Boulevard. Sydney gives me a cursory sniff and stretches out on the floor.

I ask why Sydney comes to work with him.

“ ’Cause she’s my buddy.”

Does she ride shotgun or in the backseat of his car?

“Shotgun.”

Ka-boom. Our conversation continues.

JT, 65, was born John Thomas Gandolfo in White Plains, N.J. He described his upbringing as “middle class, oldest of three, father was a World War II vet. He graduated from New York University on the GI Bill.”

While his dad worked in human resources, his mom stayed at home with the children and eventually became a career counselor.

“(They were) two loving parents who took great pains to provide, educate and take us on wonderful beach vacations to the Jersey shore. My parents were very close to their parents. When we moved to (Wilmington) Delaware when I was 12, we still went back to the Bronx for wonderful family get-togethers in a very Italian family. My grandparents all came through Ellis Island from Italy.”

Growing up, JT remembers, he “wasn’t very good at sports. I enjoyed being with friends. We had the usual pickup games of basketball and football. In high school, I was a debater. In college, I was class president.”

JT studied political science at the University of Delaware and went on to Villanova’s School of Law.

Say what? The guy selling cars on TV, outfitted in a sumo wrestler costume? Posing as a character out of Star Wars (“May the price be with you”)? Or doing a take-off on Jurassic Park (“Dino-sized savings that won’t take a bite out of your wallet”)? Or acting like the Terminator? (“Terminate your old car at JT’s”)?

JT just smiles.

“I wasn’t smart enough to be a doctor, but I guess I didn’t not want to be a professional. Does that make sense? I practiced for five years. Three as a (state) prosecutor and two in private practice. DUIs to murder cases. A lot of trial work. It was fast-paced and exciting. Law is a wonderful profession.”

But?

“My talents did not lie in a one-case-at-a-time orientation. I said, ‘This isn’t for me – the practice of law.’ I saw myself in a larger role. And I enjoyed sales.”

Car sales, to be exact.

Take Three.

“I sold cars at a Pontiac dealership in Wilmington between college and law school. I enjoyed it. It was a very professional dealership. Professional salesmen who made a career of selling cars. Very formal. We all wore suits except on Saturdays when we were allowed to wear sports jackets.”

So, with the support of his wife, Mary, whom he first met in elementary school and then again in college, JT gave up lawyering and returned to that Pontiac dealership.

“Besides the Lord, I give Mary all the credit. She supported me when I was in law school. She supported my change in careers from the law back to the automotive business. … Chrysler had a marketing program to place guys in dealerships who had talent but little money. I am not sure I had the talent, but I did qualify on not having the money.”

In 1991, a Chrysler dealership became available in Columbia.

The Gandolfos and their two young sons – Jonathan and Andrew – arrived in the Midlands in August of that year.

“Again, Mary was supportive. It was a real leap of faith. To go from practicing law to selling cars? And then, ‘We’re going where?’ ‘Columbia, South Carolina?’ ”

“It was tight. We lived in the apartment for five months and then bought a house. I have to give credit to the kids. They didn’t have much of a say. And it was so hot. We’d never experienced hot like that.”

The Gandolfos had also never experienced boiled peanuts or mustard-based barbecue.

“We now like them both.”

I asked JT if there were any pleasant surprises associated with moving south.

“How so very nice everybody is. And how openly spiritual people are. Very refreshing.”

Take Four.

We’re still in JT’s office; Sydney is still stretched out on the floor. Her eyes are closed.

“She was going to be a show dog,” JT says, “but the (blue) eye disqualified her.”

We talk about the car business a little more.

The Gandolfo family owns four dealerships in the state and several other businesses associated with the auto industry.

“The key to selling a car is sincerity. Putting the customers’ needs ahead of your own. It’s what we teach, what we model ourselves on.”

Both of JT’s sons work with him and he gives credit to “a wonderful team of very competent executives and managers. Our employees are our greatest asset. Then, our customers. We know how valuable they are.”

So what about the Bible sitting on JT’s conference table?

A group of businessmen has just left his office, he explains, after meeting for a regularly scheduled Bible study.

JT makes it clear he does not want to sound pious or perfect.

And he’s certainly not beyond getting into some politically charged predicaments.

Indeed, JT’s friendship with Mark Sanford, former South Carolina governor and now a U.S. congressman, led to some public scrutiny, including, in 2005, Sanford’s use of JT’s Cessna for a trip to the Bahamas.

And when Donald Trump was running for the presidency, JT made a car commercial with a friend playing the role of the controversial candidate. The advertisement aired only briefly.

“At the point we made the commercial, it was a dice roll, but then Trump became too caustic. I had to pull him.”

JT reflects about his life and about the car business.

“You know, life is a journey. I know I am here for a very short period of time. A blink of the eye. And what we actually do – selling cars or fixing cars – is not nearly as important as how we do it.”

A full-time chaplain serves on JT’s staff.

“Once a week he will be in each of our dealerships. If there is someone who needs to speak to him about a personal need or there is a crisis, he is there to help them and guide them.”

The Gandolfos, who are members of St. Peter’s Catholic Church on Assembly Street, are strong supporters of the Salvation Army, which honored the couple with its highest civilian award – the William Booth Award – in February.

“Mary and I believe in the Army’s purpose. It’s a spiritual organization that serves social needs.”

Speaking of needs, JT recalls the time he and Mary flew into Columbia from New York during the October flood of 2015.

“We landed in Columbia and we realized the devastation and Mary said, ‘We need to do something, John. We need to do something.’ ”

What they did was a fundraising telethon.

“We raised a lot of money. God gave us an opportunity to do that. I don’t take any credit for it.”

Take Five.

But what he must take responsibility for are his off-the-wall television commercials. It is hard to watch one of these advertisements and not wonder who in the world this guy called JT is.

Well, he’s a guy who doesn’t take himself too seriously, a natural ham whose hijinks in front of the camera are darn near legendary.

“I told JT if he was willing to go crazy on these commercials, we could come up with some craziness,” Springs said.

“I actually have people ask me, ‘When’s the next JT commercial?’ They think the commercials are crazy and they think JT is crazy. JT is willing to do anything to sell a car. He’s also going to go that far to make you a good deal.

“Back in 2003, that was the first Dodgeland commercial. Godzilla and Dodgezilla. It was so over-the-top stupid that it got people’s attention. JT was a giant, fire-breathing car dealer who was crushing the competition – roaring ridiculously and all that stuff.”

Springs said for “someone who doesn’t do this for a living,” he’d give JT an “8 or a 9” for his acting abilities.

“I can give him a line and he can turn around and nail it. JT has a great sense of humor and he loves to laugh. He loves to cut up and he has fun doing this stuff. I mean, you’ve got to have a certain sense of humor to ever go where he goes.”

So has JT ever drawn the line on where he wouldn’t go?

JT laughs.

“I said, ‘No, I’m not being a stuffed turkey.’ But you know, you have to realize you are simply having some fun. You have to set your ego aside and simply have some fun. People stop me and say, ‘Oh, you’re JT!’ It gives me an opportunity to talk to people. But I mean, it’s certainly not like they’re stopping the Pope. I mean, I am a car salesman.”

That he is.

And that’s a wrap.

This story was originally published April 30, 2017 at 10:20 AM with the headline "Meet the man behind the JT car dealer commercials."