If you have attended a St. Peter’s Prep sporting event over the last 40 years or so, chances are you’ve seen him.
He’s the guy with the dark-rimmed bifocals, the one wearing the maroon windbreaker when it was a tad on the chilly side, the omnipresent white collar tucked in somewhere under the uniformed black collared shirt. He’s the one who looked as if he needed a couple more healthy bites of a cheeseburger and some swigs on a chocolate milkshake.
But there’s little doubt of the fact that Rev. Anthony Azzarto, S.J. was there because he was always there.
It’s absolutely astounding how the man, who was more recognizable by the name of “Father A” than his full name, has the energy and the wherewithal and the dedication, determination and drive than most men 50, perhaps 60 years younger than him possesses, was able to attend so many events.
It’s hard to fathom the idea that Father A has been able to attend the countless funerals, wakes, prayer services, christenings, barbeques, birthday parties, you name it that he’s attended over the last 60 or so years that he’s been associated with since his arrival at Grand and Warren from his native Brooklyn.
It’s also incredible to think about the different roles that Father A has handled as a teacher at Prep. Not only has he served as the alumni chaplain and guidance counselor at the school, but he has also taught religion classes at the school for a span of over 50 years – and even had a stint teaching English classes to the junior class, teaching Chaucer’s famed “Canterbury Tales,” in the proper Olde English language, no less.
Father A also had the dubious task of teaching moody teenagers about Shakespeare and topics like Macbeth and King Lear, but also trying valiantly to teach those same adolescent men-to-be about poetry. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to instruct high school juniors about The Old Cumberland Beggar and try to make it sound interesting?
And among the many hats Father A wore during his tenure at Grand and Warren, he was the No. 1 fan of the Prep sports teams.
Father A attended practically every game and event imaginable – and at every level, from the freshman through junior varsity and then varsity. It didn’t matter what team. Father A attended swim meets and wrestling matches and tennis games, events where he was the lone representative from the school faculty in attendance.
It wasn’t just the major sports like football, basketball and baseball that kept Father A on the go. Nope, Father A had his finger on the pulse of every single team in the school. The school just recently added sports such as crew, rugby and lacrosse to its litany of athletic teams? Sure enough, guess who was there? That’s right, Father A.
Most people didn’t know where the crew team held its home races. But sure enough, Father A found his way to the Passaic River in North Arlington to watch the Marauders row their boats ashore, Hallelujah!
Again, it was just totally astounding to see Father A at practically every Prep sporting event imaginable. You would just have to stop and marvel at both the level of energy and the consistency to which he made it to every single event.
Father A also organized a baseball club for the students at Prep, where the students would convene during their free periods and talk about the National Pastime. Of course, as the diehard Dodgers fan that he is, Father A would readily gab about the exploits of Yasiel Puig – in honesty, he’s not a fan of Puig – but he also provided a place for Prepsters to get a midday snack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Rice Krispies treats.
It was recently learned that Father A has been reassigned to the Jesuit retirement home, the Murray-Weigel facility, on the campus of Fordham University, beginning in a few weeks. The incoming freshman class at Prep will not have the opportunity to get to know Father A the same way that I did when I was a freshman at Grand and Warren in the fall of 1975.
Father A is at ease with the decision to move him to Murray-Weigel. I am not. I’m angered by the decision. These current Prep students will be deprived of the golden opportunity I had when Father A was my religion teacher as a freshman, and was enriched to have him teach that now-historic English literature class when I was a junior.
Still to this day, some 40 years after the fact, I can recite the first eight lines of “The Canterbury Tales” in the best Olde English as I can muster. I can deliver the soliloquy from “Macbeth” without missing a syllable. We had to memorize those passages back then. They are ingrained into the deep corners of my now-damaged brain.
It’s understood that he will turn 80 years old next month. Age is an opponent that no one can seem to avoid. Even some opponents of the Dodgers get to pass by Clayton Kershaw during a three-game series, but age catches up to everyone. It’s inevitable.
Simply put, there was no sense whatsoever in farming Father A out to pasture before he was truly ready. None. He might have slowed down a step and might have needed to take better care of himself to avoid the dehydration that sent him to the Jersey City Medical Center for brief stays in two of the last three years.
But to ship him off to the Bronx? Heck, he’s a Brooklyn boy to begin with. Father A had so much more to give to Prep and its students. If he was sickly, frail, and unable to care for himself, then I would have applauded the move. But Father A is alive and vibrant and such a major part of what Prep is all about.
I say this to whoever is willing to listen or read, so here goes. Father Azzarto is as close as it comes to God personified on this planet. He may not want to read those words, but it’s true.
There’s a motto that the St. Peter’s Prep brethren live by, a creed so to speak. It’s “Prep Man For Others.” Well, there has never been a better Prep man for others than Father A. His entire life has been living for others. If he gets a gift, in true Jesuit standards, he’s giving that gift to someone who in his eyes might need it more.
When I fell seriously ill a little more than four years ago and thought I would not be able to walk ever again, sending me for an extended stint at the Kessler Rehabilitation Center in West Orange, who was the first person to pay me a visit, even before members of my own family? That’s right, that man for others, Father A.
Last year, after I had the gastric sleeve surgery in a final attempt to lose weight, I was home from the hospital two days, not wanting to see a single soul because of the pain and misery. But who showed up at my door? That’s right, Father A.
In the nearly 45 years since I arrived as a freshman at Grand and Warren and got to hear his voice during freshman orientation, wondering who he was, Father A has never once forgotten my birthday. Imagine that? Never once! You have to think that there have been thousands of young men who have paraded through the halls at Grand and Warren over the last five decades. Does Father A give birthday greetings to every single one?
Geez, I can’t keep up with the hundreds of so who wish me a Happy Birthday on Facebook. How does Father A do it to all the students he has taught over the years? Again, just astounding.
This column may read like an obituary and that was not the idea behind it. It was just written as a tribute to the finest man I’ve ever known outside of my own father. I can’t even begin to repay the kindness and concern I’ve received. I know he’s not going to be pleased that I wrote this. I know he’s going to be taken back a bit. But he deserved his moment in the sun before the sun set on him.
In writing for the hundreds of Prep athletes over the years, the thousands of alumni and parents of alumni, I can just say one word. Thanks. Thanks for being my teacher, my advisor, my counselor and more importantly, my friend. Nothing will ever change that, especially not a change of address, nor will the narrow-minded thinking of some so called powers-that-be.
Jim Hague can be reached at OGSMAR@aol.com. You can also read Jim’s blog at www.jimhaguesports.blogspot.com and follow Jim on Twitter @ogsmar.
