direction: As a youngster, he’d 
never imagined such a life. 
At Central High, astonishing-
ly, he had no inkling as to a 
future career. Fortuitously, a 
relative stepped in.
“My Uncle Sam Geller 
encouraged me to become a 
certified public accountant,” 
he said. “He told me to take 
bookkeeping in high school 
and then come to work for his 
accounting firm while taking 
college courses at night and 
on the weekends.” 
Naftaly graduated from 
Walsh College in 1959 with 
a degree in accountancy and 
financial management. Later 
he would serve as the school’s 
alumni association president 
and a trustee; he also received 
Walsh’s distinguished alum-
nus award and an honorary 
doctorate.
Now based in Troy, Walsh 
in those days was located in 
Downtown Detroit. Attending 
night school meant snagging 
a decent parking spot and 
avoiding the meter maid. 
Night students “were all in the 
same boat — working at an 
accounting office or business 
during the day,” he said in a 
profile published by Walsh. 
“Going to school was tiring, 
especially during tax season, 
but I always liked it. All the 
teachers were professional 
people, so we got a practical 
education as well as book 
learning.”
He worked and co-managed 
the Detroit-based account-
ing firm of Geller, Naftaly, 
Herbach & Shapero for more 
than 20 years. Following 
Jim Blanchard’s election as 
Michigan governor in 1982, 
Naftaly volunteered to serve 
on a “crisis committee” prob-

ing the state’s financial con-
dition, which turned out to 
be more precarious than was 
generally understood.
“The state was insolvent,” 
he said. “The previous admin-
istration had been accounting 
for income on an accrual 
basis and expense on a cash 
basis.” In other words, kicking 
financial obligations down 
the road. Michigan’s financial 
condition appeared much 
better than it was because the 
state was booking expenses 
and obligations only when 
they were paid, instead of 
when they were incurred — 
an accounting no-no. A cash 
crisis was inevitable.
“We had to institute prop-
er accounting and financial 
processes,” Naftaly said. 
“Otherwise, we were going 
to run out of cash and not be 
able to make payroll.” 
Six months after volunteer-
ing his service to the com-
mittee, Blanchard appointed 
Naftaly as Director of the 
state’s Office of Management 
and Budget. He served in that 
post from 1983 to 1987. “By 
the time I left, the state was 
solvent again.”
Corporations took note of 
his judgment and expertise 
and sought him. After a 
year as Vice President and 
Auditor of Detroit Edison, 
Blue Cross Blue Shield of 
Michigan recruited him as 
Executive Vice President and 
Chief Financial Officer. Once 
again, Naftaly was faced with 
the task of straightening out 
a giant organization beset by 
money woes.
Like Michigan a few years 
earlier, Blue Cross Blue Shield 
in the late 1980s was more 
or less broke and in need of 

financial overhaul. Richard 
Whitmer — father of current 
Gov. Gretchen Whitmer — 
was the health-care insurer’s 
CEO. Naftaly got a green 
light to clean house, hiring 
a new finance staff, actuary 
and controller. He then 
dove into the minutia of the 
organization’s financial and 
actuarial practices, the nuts 
and bolts of daily operations.
“The staff wondered what I 
was doing,” he said. Insurance 
rates had to be increased. The 
state passed a “solvency tax” to 
shore up finances. “We also had 
to improve our relations with 
the attorney-general’s office.” 
Then-Attorney General 
Frank Kelley had been hostile 
to Blue Cross Blue Shield, on 
one occasion filing lawsuits 
accusing misuse of the 
nonprofit organization’s tax-
free status. But the two knew 
one another from Naftaly’s 
days in state government. By 
the time Naftaly retired 15 
years later, the health-care 
insurer boasted a surplus of 
$1 billion.

SAVING NURSING HOME
OPTIONS FOR THE
JEWISH COMMUNITY

Mark Davidoff, a 
longtime Detroit 
accounting 
and financial 
executive who 
considers himself 
a Naftaly protégé, 
says, “Bob 
brings vision 
and heart to the 
solutions that must be found 
for seemingly intractable 
financial problems.” 
 Their relationship 
eventually led to Davidoff’s 
tenure as an executive of 
the Jewish Federation of 
Metropolitan Detroit, and 
later as a Partner with 
Deloitte’s accounting and 
consulting practices.
In the early 1990s, 
Davidoff had been working 
as the Chief Financial Officer 
for the long-term care 
subsidiary of what is now 
Trinity Health Care. 
“I get a call from Bob — 
at that time serving on the 

OUR COMMUNITY

16 | SEPTEMBER 30 • 2021 

Mark 
Davidoff

continued from page 15

Bob Naftaly was 
highly trusted by 
both the UAW and 
the automakers.

GLENN TRIEST 

