A Shining Light

He was the teacher you always remember. The one who had the greatest impact. When I learned Robert Muccigrosso, PhD. died last May after bypass surgery at 73, I had a sense of loss and remembrance. He was an English teacher at Nazareth High School in Brooklyn in the 1960s. My first encounter with him was not a favorable one. He cut me from the junior varsity baseball team in my sophomore year.

In my junior year, I had him for both home room and English. But he really took me under his wing when he organized a new monthly student newspaper, Excalibur. The first year I was the sports editor. In my senior year, I was the Editor-in-Chief. This was the first time I was exposed to a teacher outside the classroom. When reading his obituary, I found out he was just nine years older than I am. I think  this drew me to him. While he was an adult, I sometimes felt he was more of a big brother.

I can remember driving with him to the printer’s. Just the two of us. He would talk about the New York Mets. He was a big fan. One day he explained the symbolism of the movie “Cool Hand Luke” to me. How Luke was a Christ-like figure. This was not the kind of thing you usually talked about with your teacher. I think I was drawn to him, because he trusted me with responsibility. He gave me confidence that I could succeed. He helped me become a leader in a competitive, all boys Catholic school in the sixties.

Mr. Muccigrosso was also a master in the classroom. I can remember him walking up and down the classroom aisle, with the book in his hand, explaining the character in “Lord Jim”. I secretly felt I had an advantage in his class over the other kids because I worked for him on the newspaper. Meeting with him after school in the faculty office was my first introduction to the real working world.

At the end of my senior year, he did the most remarkable thing in the eyes of a 17 year old. He took me and two other student editors to the movies at Radio City Music Hall, “Barefoot in the Park” with Robert Redford. But then, he took us back to his father’s restaurant in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, bought us steak dinners and finally back to his house, where I think we had dessert, and met his wife Janet. He did this just to thank us for all our work on the newspaper. The picture above was taken at the senior awards night in a hotel in downtown Brooklyn. He was presenting me with one for my work on the newspaper. I can’t remember exactly what he said to me, but the smiling handshake captured my feelings for him. I just remember feeling proud because he was proud of me.

Mr. Muccigrosso left Nazareth in 1969, a year after I graduated. He went on to a great career as an educator. He served as principal of another Catholic high school before coming back to Nazareth as principal during the 1990s. He also worked as an associate superintendent of schools in the Diocese of Brooklyn, and chaired the Education department at St. Francis College in Brooklyn. The last time I saw him was at Nazareth’s 25th anniversary in 1987. He came up to me and introduced himself. He asked if I remembered him. I was surprised. I said, of course I remember you. He asked about one of the other student editors he was also trying to find. We spoke briefly. I told his wife Janet, I’m sure she doesn’t remember, that he really had an impact on my life. The more I thought about it, he has probably had an impact on the lives of thousands of students over the years, and maybe didn’t realize it.

I went on to a career in broadcast journalism having been greatly influenced by my father, who was in the business, but also a little bit by Mr. Muccigrosso. I’d like to think he saw potential in a high school kid, and helped draw it out. Isn’t that the job of every teacher? He is one of the great characters in my life. A shining light that has gone out too soon.