ANTONY SEEFF
Brozin was loved and respected by all who knew him. When he spoke to you, you felt you were the only one in the room, and couldn’t help leaving a chat with him with a smile on your face.
Sadly, there are fewer smiles this week as he passed away on 29 July, at 89 years old.
Brozin was born in Middelburg in 1930. He grew up in a traditional Jewish household, the second eldest of six siblings. Middelburg had a large Jewish community at that stage, and the Brozin family, led by Brozin’s parents, Nochum and Rosy, played an integral part in it.
Even though Brozin moved to Johannesburg when his children were young, Middelburg was always in his blood, and he even held the post of deputy mayor of the town (rumour has it he was only deputy mayor because they wouldn’t allow a Jew to be mayor).
A chartered accountant and astute businessman, Brozin relished the corporate world. And, although he would interrogate each number in a company’s financials, if he liked the people who ran the business, he would do business with them, and none of the rest mattered.
Brozin started his career working with his father in the family furniture business, N Brozin & Co. He then acquired Ford franchises in the then Eastern Transvaal, which he ultimately listed, and continued to pursue various interests including importing different brands to the country through Teltron.
He had a passion for helping to start businesses, and was pivotal in the founding of some of South Africa’s greatest companies, including his sons’ businesses, Nando’s and Brimstone. He was always around to act as a sounding board or offer advice, and worked side-by-side with global business leaders in his life.
When he wasn’t devouring a set of company financials or investing in a hot new Israeli start-up, Brozin could often be found in the kitchen cooking some kippers and eggs, preparing sashimi, or making his famous marinated chillis (which no-one besides him could seem to handle).
Always active, he became an avid runner in his 40s, completing seven Comrade Marathons (once even running while having a gout attack). In later years, he chose to spend time at the gym, spinning or lifting weights. You’d struggle to find many other great-grandparents who exercised as much as Brozin did.
A family man through and through, Brozin, or “Oupa” as he was affectionately known, would relish the time he spent with his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Family was the most important aspect of his life, and he put his commitment to family above all else.
Whether it was singing and dancing to La Bamba, taking his great-grandchildren to feed the fish, or just sitting and having a le’chaim (toast) in “Oupa’s corner”, Oupa was always a larger-than-life force in his family’s lives.
Having two daughters living in California didn’t stop him from being just as close to them and their families, and Brozin and his wife, Vera, spent many happy months in America over the years. Even though he was the patriarch at the head of the Brozin family, he was a confidante to each of his family members as well. He was also a hopeless romantic, and was forever obsessed with Vera, his devoted partner of 64 years.
He had a love for Yiddishkeit (Jewish life and customs), and was a standard fixture sitting near the Aron Kodesh (holy ark) dispensing sweets to his great-grandchildren at Chabad Illovo, where he was a founding member. Judaism for him was a passion, not a chore, and he was often found sitting with various rabbonim or reading the weekly parsha (portion) quietly in his corner.
He was proud to be South African, and whether it be following South African sports or politics, he always had his finger on the pulse of the country. One of his special places in South Africa was Plettenberg Bay, and if you were in Plett at any stage in the past 50 years, you probably saw Brozin suntanning with his family on Robberg Beach.
Israel was also always close to his heart, and he realised his lifelong Zionist ambitions when he and Vera made aliyah a few years ago.
Although he was incredibly charitable, the humble, dignifying way in which he gave was inspirational. He saw it as a brocha (blessing) to be able to help, and was often heard thanking charities for the honour of being able to give to them.
His dignifying demeanour didn’t stop there though, and whether you were the chief executive or the tea lady, he showed the utmost respect for every human being he dealt with.
Brozin is mourned and already dearly missed by his devoted wife, siblings, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and all who knew him and were touched by him.
- Antony Seeff is married to Max Brozin’s granddaughter, Justine.
