Fans of reality shows may recognize Richard Harrison as the center figure of “Pawn Stars,” the Las Vegas–based television series that features him and his sons in action in their real-life pawn shop. But that’s only his latest career. Before that, he spent 20 years in the Navy—as an old-school sailor. He got more than he bargained for.
I have to be honest: The Navy didn’t teach me anything about operating a pawn shop. Oh, I may have engaged in a little cumshawing here and there. I might have exchanged supplies with another ship or division that had something we needed and wanted to trade for something we had in stock; the deal always benefited both units. And no money changed hands.
But the Navy did teach me a lot that has helped make me a success as a civilian all these years. Most important, it imbued me with a strong work ethic that helped me get started in business after I hung up my uniform—and continues to this day. It also heightened my patriotism and gave me a sense of responsibility.
Actually, it shaped my life.
I joined the Navy in October 1958. I was only 17, but I had no choice. Jobs were hard to find in my home town of Lexington, North Carolina, and it was the Navy or the cotton mill. Wearing the uniform seemed like a respectable profession, so I went to the local recruiter and took the test. Eight hours later, I was on a plane to boot camp in San Diego.
Originally, I hadn’t planned to stay beyond my four-year obligation. Right after boot camp, I went to the USS Orleck (DD-886), where I served as a deckhand and worked in the ship’s laundry. I also spent a year on board the USS Twining (DD-540). When my hitch was up, I went back to North Carolina to become a construction worker.
It didn’t last. Wages in the building trades weren’t very high there, and by then I had a family to support. After nine months of uncertain work on construction sites, I decided I couldn’t afford to be out of the Navy. I packed my old blues and rejoined—as a seaman. Eighteen months later, I became a personnelman second-class. And this time it stuck.
As typically happens, the rest of my time in uniform was spread across a spate of duty stations and jobs. I spent two years in Tactical Air Squadron 21 at Little Creek, Virginia; four at the headquarters of Cruiser-Destroyer Forces Pacific in San Diego; five on board the USS Chowanoc (ATF-100), and three more in Navy data-processing.
In 1979, I decided it was time to retire. My next duty assignment was to be a two-year tour overseas on which I couldn’t take my wife and family. My boys were teenagers then and needed me at home, and I’d already been at sea too much. I left the Navy as a first-class petty officer. I tried working in real estate, but the market was slow that year.
It was then that I got the idea to open a pawn shop. I’d always been a good horse-trader, and over the years I’d learned a lot about what jewelry, artwork, and other personal possessions might be worth. With only a small investment, I rented space and hung out my shingle. I was heading for uncharted waters, but I knew it would work.
My entry into the television business came out of the blue. Six years ago, a CBS News team from Los Angeles came out to do a story about me, and almost immediately after it aired, producers started calling us about doing a reality show. I didn’t know anything about being on television—or about doing reality shows—but I signed up anyway.
After a couple of false starts, the History Channel called and asked us to do a pilot show for a series. We sent in the tapes on a Friday, and on the following Monday they ordered the first season’s shooting. The show just took off. As it turned out, becoming a pawnbroker was a good deal. I started off with $10,000; today I’m worth $10 million.
I’m 70 years old now, but I don’t plan to retire anytime soon. People say I’m a workaholic, and it’s true. But I also enjoy going into my pawn shop every day, just as I enjoyed my time in the Navy. If I hadn’t had family obligations, I probably would have stayed in for 30. I didn’t make much money, but the service enriched me in other ways.
The military took me in when I was young, full of energy, and impatient to make my mark. It taught me about taking responsibility, about working hard, and about living up to my shipmates’ expectations. It also taught me that in the grand scheme of things, family comes first.
I still follow Navy traditions, and I keep in touch. For 30 years, I’ve come to work in a black shirt, black pants and vest—it’s almost a uniform—and, by habit, I stand (almost) at attention while I’m talking with customers. I’ve gotten hundreds of emails from people I served with—including my former commanding officer in the Chowanoc.
I’ve succeeded in the pawn-shop business, but the Navy formed my character and my lifestyle first. Serving with the Fleet opened my eyes. It taught me about other cultures, about dealing with people, and about getting the job done. You can’t put a dollar value on Navy service—but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.