The Graduate
Today, June 1, 2023, is the 75th anniversary of my father's 1948 graduation from Columbia University. The significance of this event in his own life and the life of his larger family cannot be overstated. His parents immigrated from Calabria in 1899 and 1905. His father was barely literate – I am told he could haltingly make out the headlines of the Italian newspaper Il Progresso; however, on legal documents he signed his name with an “X.” I presume if you can only write one thing, it would be your name. His mother was illiterate, never having attended school at all. Dad had nine older siblings. Three of his sisters did not go to high school; in fact, I believe his oldest sister only went through 6th grade. The other six graduated from high school. All this was a great educational leap forward compared to their parents, their ancestors, but college and then medical school to fulfill a dream of becoming a doctor? How to make this happen to a poor boy born in a tenement, whose father died on the job when he was eight, and whose mother could not read or write? How to figure out what to do? Dad said he and his best friend Howie Cohen (whose parents were also immigrants, European Jews) discussed where to apply to college, of course assuming they would remain in New York. He said they had heard Colombia was good, maybe the best, and they decided to also apply to NYU. Dad ended up at Columbia, Howie – who subsequently went to law school and became a federal judge – at NYU.
Dad wrote about the year 1945, the year he graduated from high school and started college. He had this to say about getting admitted to Columbia and his first day of classes:
During all this [the last days of World War II in Europe], I had applied to Columbia College and was scheduled for a College Entrance examination on May 4 – a Friday. During the examination at Columbia there was an interruption and announcement that German forces had surrendered in Denmark – a roar erupted – we all stood and applauded it for at least 5 minutes. Then we were told to proceed with the examination. . . . . .
On May 14th . . . I had my interview at Columbia. My interviewer was Bernard Ireland – Bursar of the University. The interview went well – he was pleased with my record. I thought I’d have a summer off but he insisted that I start Summer session on July 2, 1945, since the Japanese War was still raging and my 18th birthday was only 6 months away. High School graduation was June 25th – so I had exactly 1 week to make the transition.
May and June 1945 passed rapidly.
My concern over the Pacific War was growing. My college career would be
interrupted – my mother was sick at heart to see her youngest might have to go
off and fight in the war.
Monday, July 2, 1945 – A hot summer day. My first day of pre-med. I arose about 5:50 AM and prepared myself for the trip – by subway to B’way and 11th St for my first class. 8 AM - Humanities class – a must for all freshmen and sophomores – part of the core curriculum. . . .
The Diploma
The precious document looks slightly warped under the glass. Is it actual sheepskin? It is in Latin, and my two years of high school study did not equip me to translate it. Fortunately, a translation is available online:
In The City Of New York, Formerly King's College,
Present Our Greetings To Each And Every One
To Whom This Document May Come. We Inform You That
[Graduate's Name]
Has Duly And Lawfully Completed All
Requirements Appropriate To The Degree Of
Bachelor Of Arts
And Has Accordingly Been Advanced To That
Degree With All Rights, Privileges And Honors
Customarily Pertaining Thereto.
In Fuller Testimony Of This Action, We Have Ensured That The Signatures Of The President
Of The University And Of The Dean Of Columbia College
As Well As Our Common Seal Be Affixed To This Diploma.
Done At New York On The [Day & Month]
In [The Year].
The diploma attests that a Bachelor of Arts was conferred on Joseph Anthony Mangano on the first day of June 1948:
“DIE PRIMO” – the first day
“MENSIS IVNII” – of the month of June (Latin “Junii” –
with an “I” for the J, and a “V” for the U)
“ANNOQVE DOMINI MILLESIMO NONGENTESIMO QVADRAGESIMO OCTAVO”
– AD 1948
The diploma is signed by the dean of the college, Harry Carman, and acting president Frank Fackenthal. Fackenthal was preceded by the longest-serving Columbia president, Nicholas Murray Butler, who was in office from 1902 to 1945. Butler, who was born in 1862, resigned in October 1945 (at the behest of the trustees as he was 83 and nearly blind), which means when my father began his studies at Columbia in the summer of 1945 its president was someone who was born during the Civil War! And on June 7, 1948, six days after Dad graduated, Dwight D. Eisenhower became Columbia’s president. Ike served as president until January 19, 1953, when he resigned the day before his inauguration as president of the United States.
The Photographs
My father’s oldest brother, my Uncle Dinny, who was 20 years older than dad and a lifelong bachelor, assumed a paternal role when their father died. My understanding is that Uncle Dinny attended the graduation but I don't believe my grandmother did. I'll have to ask my siblings and cousins to see if anyone remembers. But the two photographs taken that day make one thing clear: the entire family – my grandmother Maria Mangano, Dad’s nine brothers and sisters and their spouses and children – gathered at 19 N 10th Ave. in Mount Vernon, in the kitchen, to eat, drink, and celebrate dad’s achievement.
The first picture is of my father, his mother, and his
brothers and sisters. Grandma Maria is seated in the front row in the center, between four of her daughters, my aunts Tessie, Rosie, Frances, and Mary. In the back row on the far left is my father, only
20 years old, a hint of a smile on his face, and next to him, my aunt Connie
and my uncles Lou, Dinny, Frankie, and Charlie.
The other picture shows most of the extended family around the table. My cousin Angelo and Uncle Louie are holding Columbia pennants aloft. My dad stands in the back in between his nephews Benny and Anthony, again smiling modestly but with unmistakable pride. Seated in the front at the left of the table are my Uncle Charlie and his wife Kay, eight months pregnant with my cousin Charlie. In 1974, Charlie would graduate from medical school at the University of Rochester and become the next physician in the family! I’m not sure who took the picture, maybe my Uncle David Fusco, or someone from the Strumpf family, who lived upstairs?
Dad would start medical school in the fall of 1950 at New York Medical College, like Columbia, in New York City, and receive his MD degree in 1954. He fulfilled his dream, practicing medicine for 57 years, and encouraging his children and then his grandchildren in their own educational pursuits. I, his daughter, remain in awe of what he accomplished in his life, and on that first day of June in 1948.
