Once upon a time, I left my house in New Hampshire, headed for Carlisle for a gathering. About…read morehalfway there, my accursed-yet-still-very-beloved Saab began to act strangely; I threw some new parts at it and had some friends throw some other parts at it, but it was still running like garbage, and I just about coasted to my destination. We suspected a fuel pump-- unlikely, since the pump was all of two months old-- but with the car kinda running, the decision was made to try to limp it back home to New Hampshire.
Since I am writing a review of a mechanic in Harrisburg, I'm sure you can imagine what happened next.
I suspect that Mark and crew were surprised to find a dead Saab just sitting there on a Monday morning, but without knowing whose car it was and why it was there, Mark got to work diagnosing the problem. By the time we spoke mid-day on Monday, he had narrowed down the issue (blasted fuel pump!). Knowing that the car was far from home, Mark also made sure that I wasn't slumming around Harrisburg waiting, and promised to squeeze me and my poor car onto the schedule for this week. By Tuesday, Mark had pulled out the defective part, explained to me why the part had failed, and provided me enough information that I was able to have a new pump sent to the shop courtesy of the dealership that had previously replaced it (saving me quite a pretty penny in the process). By Thursday, my car was ready to go.
Mark is patient, empathetic, pleasant, an excellent problem-solver, and truly a stand-up guy. He understood the uniquely rotten position I was in, listened while I explained what had been done to try to fix the car, weighed the input of the mechanics (trained and shadetree) that I had consulted before the car finally gave up the ghost, and kept me posted throughout the entire process. I appreciated that Mark was upfront about refusing to use subpar aftermarket parts to fix the car-- and knew which manufacturers to avoid in order to prevent future problems.
Most importantly, Mark never spoke down to me -- as a woman who can fix many things just as easily as she can break them, I am always angry when I go to a shop and leave feeling patronized (at best) or taken advantage of (at worst). Not the case at all with Mark.
My only gripe is that I'm a little sad I live several states away because I'd gladly bring my accursed-yet-still-very-beloved Saab back to him any time. Thank you for taking good care of my car, and me!
