For those who missed last week’s column, a quick recap:
Moshe Caller is a Flatbush real estate developer, the founder of the Marcal Group, and someone who built a business without ever letting go of learning. For ten years people suggested that I interview him and for ten years he declined; he was, in his words, an “introvert” and a “private person.” What changed his mind was what has happened over the past three years, a story several gedolim told him he needed to share. The Manhattan DA’s office was building a case against a city official named Eric Ulrich, and Moshe had rented Ulrich an apartment with an option to purchase at a 3% discount. The DA decided to call that discount a bribe, and Moshe found himself indicted, arraigned and written about in the papers.
They expected him to cooperate and take a plea, because that’s how the system works. But he had nothing to plead to. The wait took three years. Banks don’t lend to a man under indictment, and his business froze while his case sat tied to the other defendants. What carried him through this period was his wife, his parents and friends, the learning that never stopped, the hashgachah pratis that kept revealing itself, and a lesson from the Chazon Ish: that a shaliach has no reshus to fall into yei’ush—he cannot give in to despair.
The decision finally came down, and the judge threw out the indictment in 40 pages that called the allegation what it was.
This week we learn about the crazy story that happened within the story. It’s really the second chapter of what should be a book.
Enjoy!
—Nesanel
I’m excited to get to what happened in Tveryah. But first, let’s go back to when you were a teenager. Were you entrepreneurial?
While I was growing up, my father was learning full time and putting himself through Columbia Law School at night. Ours was a very simple house, no luxury at all. I grew up planning my future house and cars, and I couldn’t wait for the opportunity to own a Porsche and make money. I can’t say it was an obsession, but it definitely gave me the impetus to succeed. Ironically, my life’s experiences have changed all of that.
I had what I needed. If you ask me what I dreamed about in tenth grade, I’m sure it revolved around being rich, but it was thinking and not doing.
I started working early because that’s what you did, not because I had some master plan at 17. You hear these stories from successful guys, “I was doing this at 12, at 13.” That wasn’t me.
You and your partner Pinny Loketch worked together and built up a business. Do the two of you still talk?
Sure. We’re good friends, even though we don’t own properties together anymore. When we broke up, we split everything amicably, but there certainly were difficult moments. I was involved in his shidduch when he remarried. His wife has always been very close friends with my wife. Baruch Hashem, that friendship stayed strong and helped maintain civility between us, and over the last few years we have become close again; there’s no longer any negativity.
When I got into trouble, he reached out and told me he would daven for me, which meant a lot, because at the time our relationship was civil but not very warm.
I’ll give you some advice on partnerships. When partners aren’t getting along while business is good, you have to ask what in the world they’re thinking. When things are bad, you can understand it. A person can say, “He’s not carrying his weight.” But you really have to tell yourself, “Hold on a second. Hashem blessed this partnership. Let’s not mess it up.”
When we split, business wasn’t good. We’d been under pressure for a while, and it could have gotten nasty.
The first lesson is to get a third person involved right away, someone you both trust. It doesn’t have to be a rav. We had a friend who was also our lawyer, Yitzchok Zwick. He was our mediator. He would tell me, “You’re wrong,” and he would also tell Pinny that he was wrong. He would also say, “Stop it, guys. Don’t fight. Let’s get through it.” I didn’t always like what he said, and Pinny probably didn’t either. But that was a game changer, considering that we were splitting up many millions in assets and shared a lot of obligations.
The second lesson was that after a couple of harsh emails between us—I won’t use the word “nasty”—I said to myself, “It’s a terrible mistake to respond to emails when you’re upset.” So I trained myself not to respond to anything for at least one day.
I think that’s a very important lesson. It’s hard to believe what I could have been thinking at the time. It’s what Chazal teach us about anger and ego. We really become a different person in anger, and not a nicer one.
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