A tiny office space just two metres wide by seven metres long would test the camaraderie of any co-workers.
Fortunately for Jack Steel and Richard Lustman, they’ve had more than five decades of working together to sort out any office politics. But more importantly, they’ve had six decades of close friendship to share all the joys and challenges of life lived to the fullest.
In their tiny Melbourne CBD office of City Stamps, the two almost octogenarians are exemplars of their generation’s style of mateship.
With an audience of one, Richard’s cheekiness is still evident, as is Jack’s diplomacy. They politely rib each other, politely interrupt to correct a point, and occasionally proffer a compliment. But what is unmistakable is the strength of their friendship.
Friends for 60 years and business partners for 50, Richard Lustman, left, and Jack Steel at their City Stamps office in Melbourne. (ABC News: Ian Kennins)
This enduring bond has helped Jack and Richard remain healthy and outgoing. Both are avid dancers — Jack’s forte is Israeli folk and Richard’s is Latin. And that helps explain why the two remain so happy and laugh so much.
The friendship-longevity link
Studies conclude that social connectedness is conducive to better health outcomes for men. In 2023, Healthy Male, an organisation founded to source information and facilitate action on men’s health, surveyed 1,282 Australian adult males.
The survey revealed 43 per cent were categorised as lonely. “The health impact of loneliness,” said the report’s author, “can have a negative effect on physical health, like heart disease and stroke, and mental health like dementia, stress, depression and anxiety, as well as health behaviours, such as eating habits, sleep quality and physical activity levels.”
The survey also revealed men aged 35 to 49 were losing friends as a result of family responsibilities and career pressures. Low income was also another friendship-losing factor for men unable to afford social outings.
Speaking at an April 2023 presentation titled Tackling Australia’s Mateship Crisis, Australian Men’s Health Forum chief executive Glen Poole said, “60 per cent of men say they have lost contact with someone really important people in their lives. The thing we want people to have, ideally, is good quality social connection. From an Aussie perspective, a part of social connection is mateship.”
Friends since school
Jack and Richard met at Elwood High School, in Melbourne’s inner south, in 1964, when their Year 11 chemistry teacher paired the two Polish-born teens to complete an experiment together. “His skill was neatness and writing and that sort of stuff. My skill was to get the thing done as quickly as possible and get the results,” Jack says.
Their complementary skills extended to the basketball court. “Richard was a bit shorter than me and I was a bit taller,” says Jack, “so I became the goalie and he became the supplier for my goals.”
Richard (back row far left with Jack next to him) during their high school basketball days at Elwood High School in Melbourne. (Supplied)
A few years later they’d ride the tram together to Melbourne University where Jack studied engineering and Richard commerce, which he admits tackling with less dedication than his friend. “After the lectures we would walk to the Baillieu Library, get cubicles and Jack would study. He was really, really dedicated.” Adds Jack: “I would study there until closing time … Richard would then come and pick me up after he’d been playing cards and chess in the cafe.”
They dated girls until Jack married in 1972 with Richard as his best man. Richard married in 1976, although he’s not exactly sure, which draws a head shake and knowing laugh from Jack.
Jack and Ruth’s wedding at which Richard was best man. (Supplied)
They also found themselves living in the same street. One afternoon Jack visited Richard who had postage stamps strewn across his living room floor. He didn’t know they shared the same hobby. Richard collects rare stamps of western nations while Jack’s particular interest is the Doar Ivri, the first set of postage stamps issued by Israel in 1948.
A shared hobby
Together they started buying stamps — too many — and eventually ran out of money.
So, says Richard, “we opened up a business in Hawthorn Road, Caulfield, in Jack’s father’s knitting factory on the weekends and it was called Weekend Stamps, in 1973.”
Again, their complementary skills were evident, according to Jack: “I create things and sort things out at the back — all those things that elude him — and he answers the phone and talks to the women and says, ‘Hi sweetie, how are you going? How can I help you today?'”
Jack, left, and Richard fishing during their younger days (Supplied)
Upon graduation they found “real jobs” — Jack as an electrical communication engineer and Richard as an international trade analyst — until the booming market in postage stamps saw them purchase a small existing philatelic dealership in Melbourne’s CBD they called City Stamps.
“People were investing in stamps like crazy,” says Jack. “It was like a stock market. Prices on certain stamps used to go up every week. We were able to buy Australian stamps from one source and sell them to another source the next day and make a profit.”
These were terrific times for the young men. By now they had children — one for Jack and his wife Ruth, and three for Richard and his first wife Hanna. Their two families went fishing together, picked strawberries on farms and wild mushrooms in the forest, and celebrated birthdays and New Years together.
They also played billiards and table tennis, Richard describing his friend as “a formidable but diplomatic player. When he knew he had the upper hand he would politely lose a point to make me feel better … and just to make sure I wouldn’t get cheeky.”
Jack, left, and Richard on barbecue duties during a family function. (Supplied)
From stamps to liquor
When the stamp trade started to decline, the two friends entered a completely different business, acquiring a small liquor store in the centre of Melbourne’s legal district. “We had good customers,” said Jack. “One was a judge of the Supreme Court and he would order a 20 litre tub of scotch. You could actually buy such a thing.”
Richard has a more colourful memory.
“The [liquor] industry name for the legal profession at our end of town was they were called The Rusty Zips. Do I have to explain it? Because before going to court a Rusty Zip would down a flask of whisky or vodka and because they couldn’t go to the toilet…do I have to explain any further?”
They sold the liquor business after 15 years “It was hard on the body,” Jack says. “We had to schlep heavy boxes all the time, make deliveries, long hours… we couldn’t go on like that forever.”
Their attention returned to the stamp business. Their new focus was buying collections of unmarked stamps which they break down into specific values on sticky strips, selling sets worth $1,500 to corporate clients for $1,100.
“It’s a viable equation but it is dwindling because of the dwindling use of postage,” says Richard.
Jack and Richard close their shop for the day. (ABC News: Ian Kenins)
Throughout their friendship the two have supported each other during life’s challenges, particularly Richard’s divorce from Hanna and the passing of Jack’s wife, Ruth. But the support was in that phlegmatic East European way.
Describing his divorce period, Richard says, “I’m a rather hard-arsed bastard and I stand on my own two feet, emotionally.”
And describing his support for Jack during Ruth’s battle with cancer, he says, “He did not cave in. But if he did I would have put my arm around him.”
For his part, Jack says, “I’m pretty stoic, I guess. We’ve had personal traumas over the years but they’ve strengthened our bond. Nothing goes on that’s smooth in life and if you get through those [traumas] then that strengthens the bond.”
When asked to compare his friendship with Jack to other friendships he has, Richard declared, “There are no other friendships like his and mine. [The strength] lies in mutual trust. It remains unshaken.”
