Bustling Repair Shop Has a Flavor All Its Own

By Steve Hanf / Photo above: Proud members of the Billy’s Truck & Auto team (from left to right)— Scott Cahoon, Matt Hicks, and Michael Reynolds, Billy Lovell. Not present on photo day, long-time Manager Tim Caudill.

Predictable sounds emanate from most repair shops. The shrill clank of a tool hitting the concrete floor. The rapid bangs of an impact wrench tightening lugnuts. The satisfying purr of a finely tuned engine.

That can all be heard inside Billy’s Truck & Auto, of course—but an array of unique sights and sounds can also overwhelm the senses in this unique shop tucked back near Run Hill Ridge in Kill Devil Hills.

A “yo-ho-ho” pirate/Santa flag and small Christmas tree offer a nod to cooler days ahead on this warm August afternoon. Turbo and Sebastian alternate between pacing and lounging, the friendly canines’ attention piqued by the daily tradition unfolding at lunchtime.

There, in the middle of the car parts and old Gators and turkey hunting decoys and … well, a little bit of EVERYTHING … is an open cooktop that sizzles with the catch of the day.

Owner Billy Lovell has just finished prepping fresh fillets of tilefish and makes way at the grill for mechanic Scott Cahoon, who gets busy cooking what will eventually be fresh wraps that look like they would set you back about 20 bucks at a local restaurant.

“Scott started working for us over a year ago. He worked in a kitchen his whole life and wanted to get out,” Billy explains. “We like to eat. We stopped going out to make our lunch right here. We try and eat healthy, and we can make the stuff that we wanna eat. All the seafood stuff, if I didn’t catch it, it was caught by somebody I know—can’t get much more healthy than this.”

Sometimes the five fellas at the shop come together for a meal together, while other days they’ll keep working on a vehicle before hitting a good stopping point. But every day, it’s the same: Some sort of freshly cooked lunch at the shop that saves time, saves money, and hits the spot.

“I keep kidding with them that the only reason why I’ve got a job is cause I can cook,” Scott says with a laugh as he seasons the tilefish. “When I first started, every day he was spending 50-60 bucks buying lunch for everybody. I was like, ‘I could make at least two, maybe three lunches for that.’ ”

So it was out with the long lines and greasy burgers and in with the fresh, healthy eats. One day, Billy remembers a restaurant owner coming into the shop to pick up his car and casually asking what they were having for lunch.

“I said, ‘Oh, we’re having blackened fish.’ And he’s like, ‘What! Where?’ I point to the grill, ‘Right there!’ He had no idea what was going on in here,” Billy says.

The camaraderie at the shop is what drew Billy to the beach in the first place. He had fixed all makes of cars for dealerships in Northern Virginia, but felt like “a slave in the system”—working endless hours for a two-week vacation.

He had vacationed in the Outer Banks for years, and in 2001 he and his wife at the time decided to make a break for it. They bought the former Shell station across from Jockey’s Ridge”—where the 7-11 is now”—and focused on the much-needed repair shop side of things. After four years there, he opened Billy’s Truck & Auto in KDH.

“I got my customer base started, and from there it’s just been word of mouth and taking care of business,” he says. “We like to fix them right, not be dishonest. You can take advantage of everybody—it’s real easy to do if you wanted to, but that doesn’t keep your bays full all the time.”

And golly, are Billy’s bays full. Work for regular customers. A mid-2010s sedan with 400,000 miles on it and a Mercedes wagon that he got from friends who knew the vehicles still had some life in them. A truck that got in an accident that a friend of a friend asked for help on. A handful of vehicles people have simply walked away from after hearing that their car worth $1,500 needs a $2,000 repair.

“Stuff just accumulates all over the place. My phone rings about every two minutes all summer long,” Billy says. “If you’re already a customer, then you know how it works: My bread and butter, the ones that started with me 22-25 years ago, I give them priority attention. You gotta be grateful for that. I’ve just got to get through all the projects and figure out which project is worth keeping and which ones I just pass on to someone else.”

He’s grateful for his four employees and always on the lookout for more. Sure, the eclectic shop is chock full of stuff, but he’d happily make room—and make more food for lunch—for a few more mechanics.

“There’s a lack of people that know what the heck to do,” Billy says. “I’ve trained lots of people, but there’s no skilled help. I mean, that’s a housing problem, because mechanics don’t make $350,000 a year, and that’s what you need to have a house here now.”