Joy’s Diamond Ring (4):Romance & Racketeers…by Robert M. Katzman
Robert M. Katzman’s Amazing Story: Â http://www.differentslants.com/?p=355
Part 4Â (scroll down for parts 1-3)
After Buddy was released from ‘The Slammer’, as my Dad always phrased it, his relationship with my Dad resumed like nothing had ever interrupted it, like World War II, for example.
Buddy the Hun was unavailable to serve his country in that war because he was already serving his sentence in that same government’s Federal Penitentiary.
When they had their first post-prison reunion in 1951, Buddy was trying to decide how to make a living. My Dad suggested Buddy try becoming a jeweler like he himself had done, after the war. My Dad laid it out for him: No heavy lifting, the merchandise would never break down, like say, a washing machine, for instance, and (not a small part of my Dad’s reasoning in this situation of career repair) it was distinctly possible to run a store selling jewelry as a cash business.
Buddy the Hun thought it over, especially the ‘cash business’ aspect of it. Because to Buddy’s way of thinking, he wanted nothing further to do with the Federal Government of the United States—including paying any taxes. He figured he’d already paid them enough in years of his life.
Buddy knew he had lines-of-credit waiting for him, and he was also fairly certain he could obtain an ample supply of easy-to-move merchandise like diamonds and watches. What he didn’t know, like how to convincingly portray himself as an experienced jeweler, he would learn. And his old pal Izzy would be there to help him, as long as it took.
So, with old chits to collect for time served, Buddy the Hun became Buddy the Jeweler, by appointment only.
Time passed.
Decades.
Now we’re back in December 1977.
A week before I made the decision to propose marriage to Joyce, I called my Dad—the former jeweler—and asked him where I should go to buy her a ring, since I knew nothing about jewelry, carats or what something like that should cost. Being a jeweler wasn’t genetic.
My Dad told me he knew a guy “who would take good care of meâ€, and to let him make a phone call to arrange a meeting, first. I said ok.
A couple of days later, on December 27th, my Dad called me and told me to meet him Downtown at 5 North Wabash, under the elevated tracks, or in other words…at the location of his former store from long ago. He must have thought I had no recollection of his place, but I did.
He told me he had an old friend there, a guy named Buddy the Hun, who would sell me a ring on December 31st, the same day I planned to propose.
I first thought,Â
“Buddy the Hun? Is he serious?â€Â