Called to Controversy (10 page)

After his stint in the National Guard, Moishe found that his position at Federal Sporting Goods had been filled. Ben hoped Moishe would come back to work at the junkyard, but Moishe knew by then that he would never again work for his father. Meanwhile, his younger brother, Don, stepped up to the plate and was, as Moishe later described him, “the good son.” Moishe watched his brother grow in their father's favor, receiving attention and approval in connection with his steadily increasing commitment to “the yard.”

Ben taught Don, not Moishe, how to drive, because Don needed to drive the truck for the business and Moishe didn't. Moishe described Don as “smart—a really quick learner—very good natured, with a good sense of humor.” Don was happy enough to teach his older brother how to drive, and Moishe didn't mind learning from him. However, he couldn't help noticing his father's favoritism toward Don and later reflected, “I knew my father loved me but I always felt he would have loved me more if I had loved the junk business more.”

But Moishe had enjoyed his work at Federal Sporting Goods and wanted to find similar work. That is how he came to Gart Brothers Sporting Goods, which became a pivotal point in his life. At Gart Brothers, Moishe had more than a job; he had a boss who taught him life lessons.

Nate Gart, the son of a house painter who had emigrated from Russia, worked at various jobs until he had saved enough money to buy a store in downtown Denver. Then with a mere thirty-three dollars in fishing equipment for inventory, he opened a family sporting goods store specializing in hunting, fishing, and camping supplies. Like Ben Rosen, Nate was smart and worked hard; he built the business from the ground up. The store grew, and Nate's three brothers eventually joined the business. The four of them incorporated the business as Gart Brothers Sporting Goods Company.

Like Ben, Nate became one of the most successful businessmen in his field, a self-made man. He was like Moishe's father in many ways, so intelligent and observant that he didn't really need formal schooling to succeed. But he was different from Ben in that he could see the value of school for Moishe. And his relationship with Moishe was unhindered by the unique expectations and disappointments that sometimes divide fathers and sons. Ironically, Nate was able to provide a degree of the paternal encouragement Moishe needed without even realizing it.

As Moishe continued taking business classes at Emily Griffith, he soaked up knowledge with an interest and enthusiasm that surely would have surprised his grade school teachers. He recalled, “The amazing thing was, I had to do very little studying for those business classes. I was already working in a retail store, so I knew about invoices and accounts receivable. I traveled on a streetcar, and I usually took along a book to read. I picked a couple of classes in accounting, and everything I learned in business school came in very handy, either at Gart Brothers, or later, when it came time for me to operate a very different type of organization. Certain principles of financial operations remain the same, whatever kind of company you've got.”

Nate was always interested to hear what Moishe was learning, and the boss was quick to appreciate any practical contributions Moishe offered. Nate was delighted when Moishe pointed out that many retailers kept small items near the cash register where customers were likely to add them to their purchase on impulse. He also took some of Moishe's suggestions about displays and how to make the most of the store's space. He gave Moishe opportunities that were unusual for someone his age, including writing some of the store advertising. In addition to giving Moishe opportunities to apply the things he was learning, Nate was always passing on his own commonsense lessons, teaching Moishe through stories and casual conversation. Moishe described Nate Gart as shrewd and a keen observer: “He taught me to watch other people and to pick up on cues.” As Moishe recalled, Nate did not have a desk. He had a chair, and he occasionally sat in it. But he preferred to be on the sales floor, and this made quite an impression on Moishe. At times Nate would stand alone by the front door and watch people walking down the street. If business was slow, Moishe would join him. Sometimes they would stand together quietly, and sometimes Nate would impart bits of street wisdom.

Though Moishe was not a partner, he felt a sense of ownership in the store and wanted to do his part to make it as successful as possible. He made it his business to know the merchandise and could show customers something they might otherwise miss on just about any item. Moishe had a strong sense of duty to the customers as well as to the store. Many of the skills, insights, and principles Moishe employed in his later work can be traced back to his work at Gart Brothers and to various lessons learned there. Moishe recalled,

Once Nate was criticized in a newspaper article for an annual contest the store sponsored. They gave prizes for the largest deer antlers, elk antlers, the biggest trout caught for the season, etc. The article pointed out that people were shooting animals, and if their antlers were small, they would just leave them lying there until they found a bigger animal that might win a prize. It was cruel as well as wasteful.

Nate Gart called the paper and told them that they were right, their criticism was justified, and he was going to change the rules of the contest, which he did. I was impressed by his apology and told him that I admired him for admitting his mistake publicly. He smiled and said, “When you're wrong, you're wrong—and in this case, I got bigger and better publicity for being wrong. Plus, in fixing the problem, I redesigned the contest so that it will cost us a lot less, and we'll get ten times as much good as we did from doing it the old way.”

The necessity of admitting a mistake, the importance of publicity, and the benefit of retooling something that is flawed were not lost on the young salesman.

*
An anecdote regarding one of the few customers to whom Moishe was not cordial: One day, “Sergeant H.” of the previous chapter walked into the sporting goods store, looked at Moishe as though nothing extraordinary had passed between them and cheerfully suggested, “Bygones?” Moishe replied, “I don't know about bygones. I don't welcome you here and I don't want to do business with you.” As he turned to walk away, Sergeant H. called out “We'll see about that. I'm a personal friend of Nate Gart's” (the owner).

What Sergeant H. did not know was that Moishe had told Gart all about him and the incident with the carbine. When Sergeant H. complained to Gart, and Moishe was called into account, all Moishe had to do was explain who the sergeant was. Nate Gart calmly told Sergeant H, “I'm glad that you came to talk to me. Now that I know who you are, I don't believe I care to have your business.”

**
When Moishe visited the store three years after moving away from Denver, former coworkers told him that some customers were still asking for him by name.

NINE

People are hollow because they won't open up enough to let anything in.

—MOISHE ROSEN

A
nother Yom Kippur had passed; the light of the crisp autumn day had given way to the chill of a dark, clear night. Elsewhere families had broken their fast together, but Moishe had gone straight from synagogue services to the sporting goods store. The boss had not required him to work that night, but he was still a part-time high school student and welcomed the opportunity for an extra three hours of wages.

Now, waiting for the streetcar at the end of a very long day, Moishe paused to tuck the velvet bag containing his tallis
*
under his arm, freeing his hand to light a cigarette. Inhaling slowly, he briefly mused over the synagogue service. The congregation had confessed a litany of sins, corporate and individual, intentional and unintentional. Then, light-headed, dry-mouthed, stomachs growling from hunger, they'd headed for home where they would share a long-awaited meal. But had any spiritual transaction actually occurred?

Seventeen-year-old Moishe's awareness of God had grown vague, but his awareness of himself was sharp enough. He knew that if someone were to draw his spiritual portrait, sin would certainly be part of the picture. Nevertheless, he hadn't gone to synagogue to have his sins forgiven; he had gone because he was Jewish, and it would be a shame for any Jew to be absent from synagogue on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. This was one of the high holy days. Which was why he was wearing his best clothes.

Glancing around, Moishe noticed that the only other person at the stop was also dressed in a suit. He appeared to be about twenty years old, had red hair, and was gazing in Moishe's direction.

“You're all dressed up,” the stranger observed. “Are you coming home from work or a party?” His voice was rich and full, making him sound older than he looked.

“Work,” Moishe replied. “But before that, synagogue.” He usually was not so open with strangers, but it had slipped out before he realized it. He paused, wondering how this stranger would react to hearing that he was Jewish. He looked like a friendly kind of guy. To Moishe's astonishment, he was more than friendly; he was downright enthusiastic as he eagerly extended his hand and announced, “I'm pleased to meet you! You know, every Jew I meet increases my faith in God and the Bible.”

“Huh?” Moishe wondered if he had heard right.

“Well, sure. Every living Jew is evidence that the God of the Bible exists and that he keeps his word.
*
You know, Genesis 12:1–3.” The man proceeded to quote, by heart, God's promise to Abraham.

Moishe was speechless. His new “friend” was not.

“Do you go to synagogue regularly?”

“No, not so much anymore,” Moishe admitted. “Today was Yom Kippur. It's a pretty important holiday for us.” His stomach rumbled. “Wow, I'm really hungry.”

“Me, too,” the man said and nodded. “I was working late and didn't have supper.”

“I haven't really eaten since last night. I've been fasting. That's what we do for Yom Kippur. Besides going to synagogue.”

The redheaded man seemed genuinely interested and asked, “So what does it all mean?”

Moishe shrugged. “It means that my sins are supposed to be forgiven.”

“Do you feel your sins are forgiven?”

“Who knows?” Moishe shrugged again, and something in his tone touched the stranger.

Seeing the streetcar coming, Moishe crushed the cigarette with his foot. He thought this guy must be a little nutty, yet what he'd said about Jews increasing his faith in God and the Bible was intriguing. Not quite ready for the conversation to end, he smiled and said, “I'm Martin Rosen.”

“Orville Freestone.” The other man smiled back, and they both climbed onto the streetcar.

The two sat near enough to continue their discussion. “I believe there is a way to know that your sins are forgiven,” Orville began, and Moishe could tell he was winding up for the pitch. Sure enough, Orville continued, “I believe that Christ died for my sins and made it possible for me to know God and find eternal life.”

Moishe was not surprised. Since Orville wasn't Jewish, Moishe had figured he must be Christian. The strangest thing was that as he explained the Christian religion, it sounded as though the whole thing was a Jewish idea. The part about Jesus dying to take the punishment for people's sins, Orville said, was pictured in the original observances of Yom Kippur in Bible times when the Jewish high priest placed his hands on the scapegoat and recited the sins of the people. That goat was then led out into the wilderness, far from the camp of the Israelites. Another goat was sacrificed and its blood sprinkled on the altar as an atonement (covering) for sin. It all sounded weird and spooky to Moishe, but he couldn't dismiss it as Christian mumbo-jumbo because clearly Orville was describing things from the Torah.

Nevertheless, Moishe changed the subject. Orville listened and interacted with the new topic, but now and then he mentioned something from the Bible.

They both got off at Colfax and Federal Boulevard. “Well, Orville,” Moishe said, “it's been nice talking to you. But I have to say, you've got some one-track mind. No matter what I say, you bring it back to religion. Look, I don't even know whether all those things in the Torah happened or not. But even if they did, it's ancient history. And I'm interested in what goes on today.”

With that, Moishe figured, he'd head north to his home on Fifteenth and Federal, and Orville, who lived at Fourteenth and Federal, would go south.

“Wait a second,” Orville said. “You think the Bible doesn't have anything to do with today? What would you say if I told you that the Bible predicted something that happened just a little over a year ago?”

That stopped Moishe in his tracks. “What do you mean?”

“I'm talking about the state of Israel. It's all in the Bible, about how the Jewish people would return to the land that God promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”

Suddenly Moishe found his feet were heading toward Orville's house instead of his own. Before he knew it, they had reached Orville's front porch. Instead of going home as he had planned, Moishe stayed with Orville and continued their conversation. Orville went inside briefly and came out with a small New Testament; he gave it to Moishe and said he hoped he'd read it.

It was well past midnight when Moishe got home. He found himself thinking of what Orville had told him about the Torah, why God set up the system of sacrifices, and how Jesus came to do what those sacrifices could only point to. It reminded him of something from the prayer book that had caught his eye on Yom Kippur some six years earlier.