For longtime Saint Paul Seminary supporter Bob Strachota, integrity isn’t just a professional principle, it’s a vocation rooted in faith, tested by suffering, and shaped by a lifetime of saying “yes” to what he sees as God’s quiet call.
Briefly
- Bob Strachota’s friendship with a humble university priest led to a lifetime of service to the Catholic Church.
- His career in business valuation has been marked by ethical courage in an industry full of compromise.
- Looking back, Strachota views his suffering as a vocation, a final testament to love.
It began in a swimming pool.
Bob Strachota, then a freshman at the University of St. Thomas, had obtained an unconventional work study assignment: teach a priest how to swim. Apparently, “Fr. Terry” was terrified of water.
“Very erratic schedule,” Strachota’s supervisor warned. “You’ll have to accommodate him.”
For a year, Strachota coached the priest to float, kick and, eventually, swim the length of the pool. They became close friends.
Only later did Strachota learn who he’d been mentoring: Fr. Terrence Murphy, president of the university.
“He never [brought it up],” Strachota says, still surprised.
Murphy’s humility left an impression. Over time, Strachota would become not just a successful businessman, but a trusted advisor to The Saint Paul Seminary, where Murphy (who passed away in 2004) also had deep ties. Now, decades later, Strachota is being honored as an honorary distinguished alumnus of the seminary.
Not for any one act, but for a life measured in fidelity.
“I have to tell you, when I was notified of this special award, I felt a genuine sense of irony,” Strachota said. “As I thought about being recognized, I really felt that I should be giving The Saint Paul seminary an award to thank them for the opportunity to serve Christ on the front lines of His Church. This great seminary teaches men and women how to make Jesus known and loved in a world that so desperately needs the Lord. The Saint Paul Seminary showed me, and I should be thanking you.”
The honest appraiser
In his professional world, Strachota built a different kind of reputation: one of moral clarity in sometimes murky territory. As president of Shenehon Company, he has spent more than 40 years appraising commercial properties and businesses; many of them are complex, high-stakes and legally sensitive.
“There’s a lot of bulldogs, but they’re guys who play games with the numbers and ask you to do things that are unethical,” Strachota said. “The good lawyers seek out good appraisers, because they want good analysis that’s defensible.”
It’s that resolve that has earned Strachota the trust of top law firms and corporations across the country. Where others see transactions, he sees a responsibility: to his clients, yes, but also to his conscience.
A darkness lifted
But integrity wasn’t born in the boardroom. It was forged, quietly, in a crucible of personal suffering.
In his late twenties, Strachota spiraled into a depression so severe he contemplated ending his life.
“I remember wanting to die,” he said. “I mean, it went on for not just like a day or two. It went on for weeks and months. And the only thing I could keep saying to myself was, ‘I don’t have a right to take my life.’ This life belongs to Jesus, not to me, and it’s not my choice.”
That conviction carried him through. “Finally, it lifted, and I’ve never had it since. I’ve never forgotten it. It was horrible. It lasted a couple years.”
His faith became more than a foundation; it became a lifeline. Afterward, he and his wife Anne went on a Christian marriage retreat.
“We said, ‘Something’s missing in our lives,’” Strachota said. “We go to church, we pray, we do all the right things, but what we hadn’t done is said, ‘Jesus, you’re in charge. I give you my life, and everything I do is going to be for you.’”
Working to witness
That decision to put Christ at the center has shaped every part of Strachota’s life: his work, his giving, his friendships and especially his family.
Today, Anne struggles with memory loss. But Strachota sees the challenging role of patient caretaker as part of his calling, right along with his status as father of four and grandfather of 12.
“I know that I’m being tested to do the right thing,” he said. “I’m under the radar of my daughters. They’re watching me very carefully, and so are my friends.”
The same quiet fidelity has defined Strachota’s relationship with The Saint Paul Seminary. A longtime supporter and former trustee, he has advised the institution on several major initiatives.
Looking back, he says he recognizes God’s hand in it all.
“I wouldn’t have been able to make it without faith,” Strachota said.