Tributes from Bob's Family
The Richest Man in Chestnut Hill
My big brother gave to others his whole life, and beyond. Yes, beyond. You see,
he also donated his body to medical science. He passed away at about 6:30 a.m. on
Sunday morning, August 16th. He was 75 years old.
I have a little story to tell you about just how far his influence went, but mostly
the good feelings that pop up at the mention of his name.
My wife Nancy and I were on a vacation to the Florida Keys about 20 years ago. We
were staying somewhere in the middle of the keys, but took a day trip to Key West.
We were doing the tourist thing and went into a shop at random. Like we would do,
she went one way and I went another in the store. After a few minutes a young, red-haired
man working at the store approached me and asked what I was interested in. We spoke
only for a minute or two, and he asked where I was from. I told him we lived in
a town called Elkins Park just outside of Philly. He said he used to live up there
near a restaurant called The Rusty Scupper. I told him I lived just a few blocks
from there.
The next thing he said really was amazing, though. He said, “I’ve spent many happy
hours in Bob Zatzman’s music store.” I couldn’t believe my ears. What an incredible
coincidence! What were the odds? We just stumbled into this store. We happened to
be waited on by this guy who happened to ask where I was from.
I was looking for a name tag on my shirt. Nothing gave away what my name was. It
was just something he blurted out at the mention of Philadelphia… nothing more.
My wife and I couldn’t wait to get back to our motel room and call Bob. What happened
next was even more puzzling. When we told Bob what happened he just said in his
nonchalant manner, “Oh yeah, I think I know who that was. He used to sit in the
store for long periods and play.” Why was Bob’s reaction so matter-of-fact? Why
didn’t he see the incredible coincidence in it?
Nancy and I talked about it for a time. We finally came to the realization that
it was not an incredible coincidence for him. He’d heard stories like this before—many
times before. See, his influence was far and wide. He affected people. Not just
musicians, either. It turns out that at the mention of Philadelphia or music or
guitars, his name would immediately come up and in a very positive way.
His business was not a great success, as measured by a financial yardstick. But
that wasn’t the success he was after. It was the propagation of music appreciation,
and specifically guitar music. In that way, he was immensely successful. His reputation
for kindness, honesty and music understanding and appreciation is known throughout
the music world. He told me, in that same unaffected manner, of some very famous
musicians who have been to see him.
Years ago, when I would walk around Chestnut Hill with my then young son, Josh,
Bob would be approached by so many people to shake his hand that my son thought
he was the Mayor of Chestnut Hill. He was, in many ways an ambassador for the community,
with his pleasant, friendly manner and his contributions to Chestnut Hill life.
He taught generations of students the love of music and, in return, received their
love and gratitude. Truly, he was a wealthy man.
So, I’d like to propose a toast. Like the characters in “It’s a Wonderful Life”—here’s
to my big brother, Bob… The Richest Man In Chestnut Hill!
Jerry Zatzman
My brother, Bob and I taught for about 40 years. I stood before a group of a hundred
students and lectured to them; Bob on the other hand was a mentor to one or a few
students at a time. I will be remembered by my students as “one of the college professors.”
Bob is remembered with love by you who were his students for his obvious interest
in you as individuals.
Bob loved music and instilled that feeling into his students, many of whom continue
with musical careers. In our different venues, both Bob and I wished to infuse our
students with the excitement of our areas of interest. Although I did to a limited
extent, Bob succeeded brilliantly because of his ability to deal with his students
in a very personal way.
Bob was happy and outgoing, always ready to smile and tell a story. When he became
incapable of playing his beloved guitar, he turned his teaching skills to repairing
musical instruments.
We’ll all miss Bob, especially my brothers and I. I’ll always remember him as a
cute little kid as we were growing up. His music kept him occupied for much of his
teen years, so contact with his brothers was limited. His studies certainly paid
off, as demonstrated by the gathering on October 3rd.
Goodbye, Bob. I hope they have guitars in heaven.
Marvin Zatzman
My Uncle Bob:
He will always be in my heart. He remembered me on every Birthday and every holiday
season, and that really meant a lot to me. He was so talented and we both shared
a love of music. I only wish I could have more memories of hearing him play his
guitar. I was too little then, but I know it must have been great! I don't know
where Uncle Bob is now, but I am sure there will be music, love and peace there...
and that he is playing his guitar again.
My fondest memory of him and his music store were these little different color plastic
eggs that were filled with sand, and I used to shake them and try to play music
with them. Also, singing to my Grandma's cane when I was 4 or 5 years old (thinking
it was a microphone) and putting on performances for Uncle Bob and Grandma.
I miss you, Uncle Bob. Hope you and Grandma are together again!!
Love, Clover
Bob,
You are here in spirit in the hearts of those who knew you for their own personal
soul to soul connection. David, your brother; Clover, your niece, and myself laugh
when we think how your tuneful heart always had a joke or some upbeat moment to
share... We knew you had loved your work as few folks ever do... Life gave you times
of trials and you endured your troubles with a piece of finer wisdom than any religious
leader on a pulpit... You had made a life of kind acts for others and your musical
wisdom you shared as if you were a fountain of never-ending notes... Your love for
personal learning never ended, even up to the day you left us. You touched us and
you touched the hearts of many; all different ages. You lived you life the way you
wanted and your contributions are the living vibrations of music in a higher level
than most folks know or have open ears to hear and eyes to see...
Wherever you are, I know your mother, Clara, is standing alongside; and there is
a musical master that is saying to you, "My son, I am most pleased with your life.
You learned and followed what I have taught you well." And you turned to the Master
and said, "Look, I've got a funny story to tell you about a guy who owned a music
store in a place called Philadelphia..." And walking together along a sunlit path,
sharing the moment, the Master and you fade into a rainbow of soft light as one
long and beautiful sounding note. A voice is heard in the light saying, "Let the
music begin again."
Love, Lari