Bob and I grew up in the same neighborhood on the South Side of Chicago. . He was my brother Scott’s close friend. He left his home at an early age, as I did mine. Our lives took different paths, but in many ways we were similar. He started out on his own at a young age, as I did. He built his life and career on his own terms, following his agenda for living a fair, good life, as did I. We both looked at the women in our lives as major sources of strength and inspiration. We both also had unusual relationships with our immediate families. All that said, none of it matters.
What does matter is Bob’s ability to write a story about a time and place that seems both familiar, real, and unreal. Bob is a great storyteller. He weaves in both history and the nitty-gritty of real life out in the community in which we live and work. He tells stories of personal and emotional pain, corruption, history, and life. He cries from his heart. Sometimes you can feel heavy in your heart from what he writes. Other times his attention to graft and corruption makes you realize how much you don’t know or understand. And then there is always his happier writings that make you laugh. But the one thing you see, in all Bob’s writings, is Bob’s love in telling a story.
If you are about to start your path into the story of The South Side of Chicago from the standpoint of a small (and later larger) entrepreneur, and a Jewish faith upbringing, you will nod your head as you enjoy many “ah-ha” moments. Moments about life- corruption, religion, personal relationships, and the yellow brick road each of us chooses. I have all the books Bob has written and have found them to be great entertainment and lessons in life. Happy reading to you!
Brad Dechter
Robert M. Katzman on Brad Dechter
I knew Brad when we were children, but the few years difference mattered more in grammar school than fifty years later, when we had both become who we were. That was when our relationship blossomed into two people on the same wave-length. Careers aside, that was the thing. When he visited Chicago from San Diego, California to see old friends here, I became part of that group.
But then, when the worst thing happened to me – losing my wife of 42 years – in my emotional and literal wandering across America, I landed in Oregon. A good friend there welcomed me to both silence and brotherhood as my moods fluctuated. Brad knew where I was.
When my Oregon friend had to leave after a few weeks, I drove slowly north over a never-ending mountain, my mind filled with everything and nothing, and I landed in Portland for a few days before flying back to an empty house in Wisconsin. Brad called me to check in as he does sometimes, then told me he was going to fly there and meet me for a couple days.
Brad has a very successful shipping business across the Pacific Ocean and in numerous countries near the South China Sea. He travels a great deal, is frequently immersed in business deals to meet this person or to develop a new building. He is in demand in many places far apart from each other. I would never ask him to put his life on hold to give me a little of his time. After all, who was I? How could he see things differently than I did?
Brad and I were together for two days, non-stop talking, eating and finding things to laugh about, when that seemed a faraway thing for me. He made a space in my life for me to feel good again, even for a short time, when that was seemingly inconceivable for me.
It was a moment of kindness, love, and for me, unforgettable.
Brad and I don’t see each other often.
San Diego is about as far away from Wisconsin a person can be without falling off the South Western coast of America. Both of our aging bodies keep slowly disintegrating bit by bit.
But we write constantly, he reads everything I post and he has responded more than any other person in my fourteen years of posting my stories online. A truly busy man is one who manages his time to allow for the fullness of life to fit into it.
Who is Brad Dechter?
He is my friend, he is my brother and I love him.
Bob Katzman