Busted Brokers Bounce Back

Whenever stockbrokers gather these days, talk usually turns to the dispiriting topic of unemployment. Among the season's favorite horror stories are those of the $100,000-a-year Smith, Barney man who is now pumping gas in San Francisco, the top Nevada broker who works as a short-order cook in Reno, and the uncounted troop of Wall Street casualties who drive taxis in New York City. But there is a resilient breed of ex-brokers who have rebounded from the stock market slump by starting lucrative new careers. Though their ventures vary widely, the once-busted brokers are united on one point: even if the Dow-Jones average doubled in a year, they would never go back to the market.

Merchant of Funk. San Francisco's ex-brokers seem to have fared best. Four alumni of Merrill Lynch switched early last year from stock trading to stock feeding, forming the Western States Cattle Co. Unlike the whole herd of amateurs who have lost their hides in the tricky cattle business, these men quickly began to round up profits. Daniel Murray, Western's 30-year-old president, was a commodity broker with a wealth of experience working with feed-lot operators and cattle buyers. At his insistence, the firm limited its dealings to California, which has been untouched by the low market prices that have bankrupted breeders elsewhere.

Rather than tie up their own money in livestock, the partners simply fatten and market cattle for high-income city investors in search of a tax shelter. Western takes a 10% sales commission and a quarter of each investor's profit. Since May, the four partners have grossed $1.25 million, and avow that they have had much more fun with cows and steers than with bulls and bears. "Brokers are all being replaced by computers," says Partner Paul Ronan. "They'll end up being just clerks. Here we are pioneers."

Another Merrill Lynch veteran, Dick Bradley, was able to use his market experience to float a $150,000 stock offering for his own restaurant. Bradley joined two former airline executives in 1969 to open Victoria Station, an antique-encrusted dining room put together from seven old railroad cars in downtown San Francisco. The partners have grossed more than $1,000,000, and have started a chain by opening an English pub across town and a Victoria Station in Atlanta. Bradley's company has understandably become a lodestone for out-of-work brokers from around San Francisco. One of them has become a waiter.

Paul Blum used to earn $30,000 a year selling securities for Hallgarten & Co. Now he grosses that much as the bearded and bead-wearing proprietor of Old Stuff, San Francisco's most exclusive junk shop, which he bought in 1969. His inventory runs all the way from a 2nd century Roman glass vial to a vintage 1955 rubber Donald Duck. "My days are enjoyed as a merchant of funk," he boasts. "What I like about it is selling tangibles instead of intangibles."

Parchment Scrolls. Dennis Haslinger, who sold mutual funds for Wallace Investments, Inc., in Cleveland, is now also marketing heraldic devices out of an old house that is a local historical monument. He starts with a direct-mail offer of family crests on a parchment scroll. When he gets a nibble --some status-starved customers eagerly order as many as 50 scrolls--he sends off a catalogue listing family-tree plaques, blazer crests and family histories. "Anyone with a name and $2 is my market," he says. "I've always wanted a business of my own. I couldn't find the business I was looking for, so I invented one."

Even the most inventive ex-moneymen can get nowhere without capital. Gerald Benowitz left Merrill Lynch in Atlanta when volume started slipping last year. Only when he had scraped together $250,000 from 20 private investors could he and his four partners launch Creative Child Care, a night-and-day care center for affluent children. "You can call it Head Start for the Rich," remarks Benowitz. His new center will open this week in suburban Atlanta, with nurses on duty around the clock. The center is aimed at clubwomen who might want to drop off Junior a few mornings a week, sport-minded couples who want to get away for a weekend of skiing, or the sociable set given to late-night parties. "Now I have decision-making power," Benowitz says. "This is the kind of satisfaction you don't get on the other side of the stock charts."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.