James Nicoll Zartman died quietly at his home in Chicago on Friday, June 13 after a valiant battle with an aggressive brain cancer.
Born on October 4, 1928, to Ford and Louvenia Zartman in Freeport, Il, Jim is preceded in death by his beloved wife Katherine Wright (1933-2024) and his son Peter Wright (1962-1988). He is survived by his daughter Judith Nicoll (Walter Weber) and his sons, Michael Ford (m. Armand Cerbone) and Douglas Hopkins (m. Nance Pticek), and three grandchildren, Skyler, Sonia, and Aaron.
From his earliest years, Jim set a very high bar for himself. Always regarded as the hardest working person by friends and work colleagues alike, he achieved much in life. He graduated class valedictorian from Freeport High School where he was known as “Zero Zartman” for his double zero number on his football uniform. After receiving his Bachelor of Arts from De Pauw University, he graduated from Harvard Law School in 1953 on a full scholarship.
Jim never flinched from hard physical work. During high school summers he laid railroad ties; in college he built silos; in law school he paid for his room and board cleaning the home of economist John Kenneth Galbraith, his landlord.
Upon graduation, Chapman and Cutler, a prominent law firm in Chicago, hired Jim where he worked for more than forty years in probate law. He retired as a senior partner having left his mark on Illinois probate law. Jim drafted Illinois’s Durable Power of Attorney statute and successfully modified estate law that enhanced the rights of heirs.
In 1954 Kathy Wright was searching for a male actor for a production of Everyman she was directing at Fourth Presbyterian Church on Michigan Ave. A friend recommended Jim. He auditioned, won the part, and four years later the hand of Katherine Wright in marriage. Together they raised a loving family of four, spending weekends and summers on their 80-acre “farm” in Wisconsin. There Jim built, tilled, planted, weeded, and chopped until Kathy rang the dinner bell. Only then would he allow himself to relax on his screened porch serenading the family with his banjo and harmonica.
Music nurtured Jim’s soul and expressed his deepest feelings in the most meaningful way. He supported music and musicians throughout his life. His children woke every morning to their father’s practicing on his violin before leaving for work. Any gathering would prompt Jim to reach into his shirt pocket for his harmonica to add a musical note from his heart. He was most proud of his contributions to the Chicago School of Violin Making, where as president of the board, he fostered its growth into one of the nation’s best and a destination for students across the globe. They honored him at his retirement with a violin crafted by it students. DePaul music students honored him with a private chamber concert for his contributions to its new music school.
Jim lived his life for others. As with everything he did, he did it quietly and effectively. Perhaps this is most evident in his pursuit of civil rights. Jim stood at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial steps in 1963 when Marion Anderson sang and Martin Luther King gave his “I Have a Dream” speech. The next year, as Treasurer of the Chicago Urban League, he was instrumental in securing Soldiers Field for the Chicago Freedom Rally for Martin Luther King. With his wife he lent his legal skills to handgun control in Illinois and mental illness research and advocacy nationally.
Sometimes the quietest voices have the greatest impact in the example their lives give. Often a man of few words, when Jim spoke the words mattered and came deep from his heart. His example of a loving husband, father, grandfather, gentle and generous mentor, stalwart advocate, and loyal friend is the best measure of this man and it is an inspiration to all who knew and loved him.
We love you, Dad, and will miss you always as we do now.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the following:
The Chicago School of Violin Making: http://csvm.org/support
The Brain and Behavior Research Foundation: http://bbrfoundation.org/donate