A Lifetime of Hands-On Craftsmanship Keeps One Plating Shop Shining
# **From Garage Plate to Legacy: The Unyielding Craft of Quality Plating**
Fifty years ago, a teenager in Sterling turned a simple side hustle into a lifelong calling. Gary Schultz, armed with nothing but a homemade plating machine in his father’s garage, began customizing motorcycle parts for his own project. Word spread. Friends asked for their parts to be plated too. What started as a weekend obsession soon outgrew his school years—and his factory job at the steel mill.
Back then, plating was just a passion. But after high school, Schultz split his time between dawn shifts at the mill and late nights bent over his plating bench. When layoffs devastated the mill, he made a gut-wrenching decision: he bet everything on his plating side hustle. He hired two helpers, moved into what would become his lifelong shop, and never looked back.
Today, **Quality Plating** isn’t flashy. It’s one of the last custom plating shops left in the Midwest—an unassuming brick building where artistry meets endurance. Schultz’s hands have turned dull metal into gleaming perfection for decades: motorcycle parts, car trim, boat fittings, even brass coasters destined for the White House. But Schultz isn’t chasing fame. He thrives on the joy of seeing a backyard mechanic’s restored ’67 Mustang finally shine, or a hobbyist’s vision materialize after years of tinkering.
The plating process hasn’t changed much since his early days. It demands elbow grease, patience, and precision. Every piece—whether a tiny screw or a massive panel—undergoes a ritual: clean, polish, buff, then immerse in tanks of copper, nickel, chrome, and cleaners. Gloves come off when the moment matters most, because even a speck of dust can ruin a finish. Schultz’s calloused hands tell the real story—not of shortcuts, but of relentless care.
Running a plating shop isn’t just skill—it’s survival. Many competitors folded under the weight of environmental regulations or soaring chemical costs. Schultz credits his four-decade run to strict compliance—playing by the rules when others couldn’t. Now, customers from around the world ship him parts, trusting him to get it right.
At home, Schultz and his wife Cindy run the shop together after 43 years of marriage. She manages orders and paperwork while he focuses on the craft. They downsized years ago, resisting the pressure to expand. Their reward? Time to travel, family, and reasonable hours—far from the early days when Schultz barely knew what day it was, jumping straight from the mill to his plating bench.
Yet challenges persist. Material costs fluctuate wildly—nickel from Finland, chromium bars, copper nuggets—each price swing threatening to upend orders. A single job might take eight months, but the market can shift dramatically in that time. Schultz adheres to his original creed: fair prices, honest work, and happy customers. Speed doesn’t matter. Perfection does.
For Schultz, plating isn’t just a business. It’s a legacy of patience, integrity, and the quiet pride of seeing a customer’s dream emerge, gleaming, from the depths of a tank.
