Sam Shaffer, RIP, Etna Loses a Great Man


You see, the thing about Sam Shaffer, like all people worthy of high praise, is I knew him and his character from others. Sam’s reputation among my circle of friends had already given me a sense of the man and predisposed me to like him. Sam owned Maverick Motors at Lynn’s Road and Route 40 (which his family will continue). Over the years, many of my friends and even people I did not know have spoken fondly of Sam. Since I have lived in the area since 1966 and have never heard a harsh word about Sam Shaffer.

Some might find it challenging to eulogize a man they only met and spoke with occasionally over the years. We mainly spoke in four or five-minute casual encounters about business, real estate, and family, mostly in 2023 and 2024 at Starbucks (picking up an order) as his health ebbed and flowed and, of course, through mutual friends, I know he battled cancer for many years before. There was a reason I felt like I knew Sam Shaffer well, and probably something rare even in a small town or township like Etna.  

In 1968, after my father’s death, a man with a similar business, Mr. A.C. (Buck) Bennett of Bennett’s Garage in Reynoldsburg, became my father figure and mentored me for more than 44 years until he died in 2007. I hope there are more men like Sam and Buck out there; in this hyper-digital media-driven world, it is easy to find ourselves in the thick of shallowness and never have the opportunity to see long-term stick-to-it-ness and solid honesty that makes us miss men like Sam Shaffer.    You will be missed, sir.

Jon Hanson

Etna, Ohio


2 responses to “Sam Shaffer, RIP, Etna Loses a Great Man”

  1. There are no words…
    Sam Shaffer was the perfect friend. He spoke the truth, mostly unvarnished, but knew what needed to be said.
    He met (and fixed) my car before he met me. That was in 1974. When we did meet we had already been neighbors. Our families were intertwined. We (Sam-Kathy, Larry-Linda) knew each other before we had children. No memory is without love and respect. When my memories fade, I think those of him will be the among the last to go.

  2. I barely knew Sam the person but I did know that I could always count on him. My husband often brought him a case of Maruchan Ramen noodles to show our gratitude toward Sam and his staff. I am glad a moment of silence was given to him last night at the township meeting.