Lois Bachman, Business Communication Teacher Extraordinaire, Dies at 95

Ellen Braunstein

When Dr. Lois J. Bachman walked into a classroom — whether at Bartram High School, Mobil Oil’s training center or the Community College of Philadelphia — she expected clarity, precision and confidence from her students.

She believed businesspeople should know how to write a letter, lead a meeting and speak in complete, polished sentences.

“She was a stickler for grammar and communication,” her daughter, Linda Wertman, said. “Even when I was grown, I’d still call her to check if I was using a word correctly.”

Bachman, a Philadelphia educator, author and national figure in business communication, died on Oct. 4 at age 95. Her lifelong devotion to education — and the Jewish values of learning, perseverance and community she absorbed growing up in Philadelphia — shaped both her professional success and the generations she inspired.

Born in Philadelphia in 1930, Bachman grew up in West Philadelphia, the youngest of four. Her father, an attorney who had studied in one of the early classes at the University of Pennsylvania’s law school, died of cancer when she was six.

Her mother, a bookkeeper, supported the family on a modest income during the Depression.

“We had no money, but I didn’t care,” Bachman liked to say. “I had books and I had a library.”

That love of learning, and the determination she saw in her mother, guided her for the rest of her life.

She excelled at West Philadelphia High School, graduating first in her class and earning a scholarship to Temple University — a crucial opportunity for a family that could not have afforded college otherwise.

“That scholarship gave her the chance to focus on a career,” Wertman said. “It set the stage for everything she achieved.”

She went on to earn both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees at Temple, finishing at the top there, too.

Bachman began teaching business education at Bartram High School, introducing students to practical workplace skills at a time when office work was changing rapidly. She took off 10 years to raise her three children as a loving, stay-at-home mom.

“She would later became a devoted grandmother and great-grandmother whose enthusiasm for learning extended to every generation of her family,” Wertman said.

She returned to the workforce in corporate training, building a full-scale program for administrative and mid-level managers at Mobil Oil. She later joined the Community College of Philadelphia, rising to department head and full professor.

At 50, at an age when many educators begin thinking about retirement, Bachman went back to Temple to earn her Ph.D. in business education. It was both a personal and professional statement. “She wanted to keep learning and moving forward,” Wertman said.

“Getting that Ph.D. gave her more credibility as an expert in her field and opened new doors.”

With the doctorate, she expanded her influence beyond the classroom. Bachman wrote and edited several college-level business communication textbooks — including for major publishers such as Simon & Schuster — and those books were adopted by colleges across the country.

She became active in the American Business Communication Association, eventually serving as its president and spokesperson. She lectured nationally, moderated panels and mentored younger faculty, many of them women building careers in business education in the 1970s and 1980s.

“She was very influential to other professionals nationally,” Wertman said. “She set a standard for how you teach communication — clear, correct, respectful, professional.”

Her Jewish upbringing in Philadelphia was one of tradition more than strict observance, but it reinforced the value she placed on education, community and continuity. She belonged to Temple Beth Am and volunteered for synagogue programs and school PTA activities.

The family’s Jewish life widened when her husband, Bill Bachman, converted to Judaism in 1971.

“That actually made us all more involved,” Wertman said. “He studied and learned, and it brought everyone in.”

Bachman was also a survivor. She beat breast cancer in her 70s and later overcame a white blood cell cancer, remaining in remission.

“She was a tough cookie,” her daughter said. “She just kept going.”

That resilience echoed the losses of her childhood and the determination of her mother, a single parent who raised four children alone.

For all her academic seriousness, Bachman had a big, joyful personality. Family members called her “effervescent.” She loved the Philadelphia Orchestra, theater and Broadway shows; she watched every Phillies game and knew each player’s stats; she crocheted and did needlepoint; she read about a book a week well into her 90s; and she watched “Jeopardy!” nightly.

“You could not call her during ‘Final Jeopardy,’” Wertman said. “She knew almost every answer.”

Travel was her other classroom. With Bill, her husband of 52 years, she took more than 40 cruises, circling the globe and meeting people from other cultures. True to form, she documented each trip.

Every evening she sat down and wrote what they’d seen, where they’d gone, who they met.

“She kept a diary of every single day,” Wertman said. “She would pull it out later when I was traveling and say, ‘Here’s what you should see.’ It showed how curious she was about the world.”

What endured the most, her daughter said, was Bachman’s conviction that education — done well — changes lives.

She expected excellence from students because she had demanded it of herself, from the days when a Depression-era girl in West Philadelphia decided that books would be her way forward.

“She taught us to work hard, to stay curious, to keep learning and to laugh,” Wertman said. “She didn’t sweat the small stuff. Nothing rattled her. Whatever came her way, she faced it with grace.”

After a pause, she added: “She was my first call. She was my best friend.”

Ellen Braunstein is a freelance writer.