Dear Editor,
I was first “introduced” to Stanley by our parents when we were three years old! A couple of years later, we became kindergarten classmates at the South Avondale School. As I remember, after a couple of days Stanley ran for president of the class. Although we went separate ways the next couple of years in elementary school, we did share that time at the Wise Temple Sunday School where once again Stan ran for class president. I didn’t vote for him then and in fact never ever did — not because I didn’t love him but because, fortunately, I was never in his district again.
Then came the college years. Although we were each admitted to a number of different good schools, we together made a decision to attend Harvard where we were roommates for the next four years. One of the highlights was our joining the ROTC artillery to avoid being drafted for Korea. I can honestly say neither of us were particularly good at aiming howitzers, but it turned out Stan was worse. We were sitting next to each other, as we often did alphabetically, when finishing a test on a target, he nudged me to tell me that I had my coordinates wrong. Always considering Stanley to be smarter than I, I changed my coordinates to match his. The next day the Colonel in charge brought us both to his desk explaining that it was unusual that we both had the same coordinates and unlike the rest of the class succeeded in totally destroying a friendly village. We soon retired from the military and escaped the draft.
After college, Stan went directly to law school and I to the Navy, winding up some years later in each other’s weddings.
During the summer of 1959 between my two years at business school, I got a job with another kindergarten friend, Gerald Robinson who was in real estate. Stan had begun his law practice. Gerald asked me to show a lot to a young man who wanted to build a professional repertory theater on the site. Long story short, I met the fellow Jerry Coville, loved his idea and suggested that in addition to thinking about a theater, he ought to consider including a restaurant and bar to take advantage of the splendid City view. Jerry asked me to write up a business plan. I did, carefully explaining that the numbers I was using for construction and operations were totally fictitious, as I knew nothing about either. Returning to business school later that year, I received in the mail a brochure seeking funds for Anvil Inc. to build that theater. Their brochure featured my phony numbers and included a picture of me as the business manager. I called Stanley imploring him to stop that charade, saying if it got out, I’d never get a job in Cincinnati. A couple of weeks later, Stan called to say that everything would be just fine. Somehow or other, Stanley was able to get the Park Board to lease the old shelter house in Eden Park to Jerry for what became the Playhouse In The Park.
During that same summer, I wanted to buy an old fixer up in Mount Adams and be able to walk to work at what I thought my next job stop would be at Procter and Gamble. The house was stuck in an old estate. So once again, I turned to Stanley for help. Stanley undid the estate, became my partner in the house and helped me start not at Procter, but at a new venture to lead the renaissance of Mount Adams — the beginning of Towne Properties.
Stanley went on to win a number of offices eventually becoming the president of The Ohio State Senate. I asked him what his new responsibilities would be in that very important job. Stanley was a great writer and talker, but not very good with numbers. He always corrected my writing and I always corrected his numbers. When he told me that he would be in charge of the State budget, I thanked him profusely. He asked me why. I replied that with him in charge of the Ohio budget, I would soon be moving to Kentucky.
A number of years later Stanley and I joined forces, he in Columbus and me locally, to lobby for money for what was eventually to become the Aronoff Performing Arts Center.
Stan was also a big brother and mentor to my brother Arn when he was on City Council and Mayor and also to my son Chris who served on City Council as well.
During the last years, we would often meet downtown at Ruby’s for a Friday happy hour: Stan, Dr. Gil Schiff, my brother Arn, myself and Dick Weiland all of us Walnut and Harvard grads, with the exception of Dick who went to Williams. After a couple of drinks, our tales of our imagined success grew even wilder, entertaining not only ourselves, but a good group surrounding us which included assorted politicians and movers and shakers.
Unfortunately, those were the last times we shared. But as you can see, Stan and I were brothers in arms. He did so much for our community, our state and myself. May he rest in peace.
Neil Bortz
Cincinnati, OH