A Man of Influence
((Adolph Schuman) (Lilli Ann)) 1968-‘69
Prologue: Now and then he’d
come out of his international, political and influential box to mingle with us
common folks, perhaps to see if he was still human, he was once only a truck
driver, like Elvis, but I doubt he ever forgot his roots, the Hungarian-Jew,
Adolph Schuman, born 1907, died 1985. Owned Lilli Ann clothing, out of San Francisco. A dear
friend to John F. Kennedy and his brother Robert, who lived on Nob Hill, who
made in his last decade between $40 to 53-million dollars a year today he’d be
considered a billionaire. This story is brief, but I got to meet him on five
different occasions, more like bumping into him, but the story is worth
telling, for he was my boss.
As when I first met
him, he gave off a discerning affection which gave to me the effect of
emphasizing his undeniable striking features, dominated by dark and penetrating
eyes and a shiny bronze—sun-glazed—skin, with an overall confident look of
impact. Yes, he had great wealth and influence, and intellect, and will. One
could see why men like JFK, fell under his spell, and friendship.
I was twenty-years old when I first met him, worked for him in San
Francisco, at Lilli Ann. He asked me to join him at his table for lunch one
afternoon, at a Chinese Restaurant. I hesitated, but I left my booth and joined
him and his little white dog, and his entourage. Among his staff was the
manager and assistant manager, whom I got along with both quite well, the
manager being of Jewish origin. I kind of stood by the table a moment, not sure
why, then he smiled and nodded for me to sit down. I was kind of short-winded,
taken by surprise, you know, taken off guard. My heart was pounding as if I had
suddenly had to fall. I had always thought of him a bit elegantly stiff.
Typically contemptuous. But he was my boss and I respected that.
“Go ahead and eat,” he proposed, after I had seemed to drift off into wonderland, as
a half dozen of us sat around the table. It was as if he had waited for me to
eat before he would. And I suppose he saw me as waiting to eat as soon as I
found a favorable wind. And then I did start eating and became more at
ease. I briefly explained I was a
Midwestern lad, from St. Paul, Minnesota, and was working on a karate belt,
with the famous Gogen Yamaguchi (‘The Cat’) and his son Goesi Yamaguchi, in the style of Goju-kai, and of
course, working at his clothing factory, which he of course already knew. But I really didn’t have much more to talk
about.
My dismay must have shown in my
expressions, for once at a whim he fired me on the spot for handling his
fabrics in an impulsive way, he was very fussy about his materials; and an hour
later the manager hired me back. Perhaps
he was asking me to overlook that little incidental, mishap. Who’s to say? On Christmas, 1968, he gave me a bottle of
scotch, I sold it for $10.00, it was the best I suppose of its kind, but I
never drank scotch. Once his beautiful
model, with a pearl ring as big as a quarter, was chasing Adolph around the
factory, and he told me to hold the door tightly shut, when she came around,
and when she came around, she looked at me with devil cat eyes, and said, “Back off from the
door…!” And I did, I mean I didn’t want to get an object in the face like
Hillary did to Bill Clinton, at the White House, eons ago. So she waved be
aside and I stepped aside.
I kind of pictured him as a sheer shadow of willpower. I know when he
went to Paris to pick out his fabric he was quite, particular, and I knew his
clothes were all in the top fashion magazines. And his clothing was
expensive. Matter of fact, I had a Lilli
Ann dress made for my mother by the seamstresses, of Lilli Ann, for nothing,
only the price of the fabric at cost, and without the label, which was the most
costliest. And sent it to my mother. She
was so happy.
I know after Adolph died, his family ran the business to the 1990s, and
it was closed in 2000 A.D., and I know he was a charitable man. He often reminded me of Albert Ritt, another
millionaire I worked for in Minnesota, he and I got along quite well, we’d sit
in his office and talk some. He too,
liked to—now and then, come out of the selective box, to mingle with us folks, in
the real world ((his gross fixed assets were over $500-milllion, his net worth,
I’m not sure, in the mid-1990s)(in comparison, in 2000, mine were 1.3-GFA)).
But let me close this story by saying, I think these two people, rich
people, rich as they were, with all their influence, knew: something others
have forgotten: what is it worth of human life, unless it is all woven into
both sides of the box, if indeed you are given the chance to be one among the
many.
#1203/11-3-2016
