MR. SABELLA

Warning: This is not meant to be amusing.

As a student at Pleasantville (N.Y.) High School in the sixties, I was lucky enough to  get to know Anthony Sabella, sometimes known to students as Tough Tony. He was the assistant principal, which meant he was the school's main disciplinarian, which meant I had plenty of interaction with him. But despite the fact that on more than one occasion I was genuinely concerned that he might -- as he threatened -- pick me up by my neck and drop me out of a third-floor window, we actually became sort of friends, or as friendly as a school disciplinarian and a total wiseass can be.

In addition to being assistant principal, Mr. Sabella was a much-respected high-school-sports official. He also taught American History. I was in his class one year, and it was one of the best classes I ever took, high school or college. Mr. Sabella was very knowledgeable and had strong opinions, but it never bothered him if you disagreed. He liked the give-and-take, which was not always the case with my teachers. By the end of my senior year, I really liked running into him, and I think he liked running into me, even though these run-ins still sometimes ended with my getting detention. For example, I once led a large lunch-hour sit-in demonstration (this was the era of sit-in demonstrations) in favor of absolutely nothing. We just sat around the floor shouting random slogans of protest. When Mr. Sabella showed up, he was directed to me, as the ringleader, and I explained that we had no actual cause; we were just sitting in. He kept a straight face, but I could tell he found this amusing. He still gave me detention. 

Over the years I occasionally mentioned Mr. Sabella in columns, and was always delighted to hear from him, and his family. Recently, however, I heard he was not doing well. Today I learned that he died. So I'm sad about that. But it heartens me to think that if there is an afterlife, and if the afterlife has a dress code, it will henceforth be strictly enforced.

Update: So many great comments, from people who knew and loved Anthony Sabella, or were lucky enough to have teachers like him. Just got this email from Pleasantville grad Skip Mulch:

Mr. Sabella – alias “Tough Tony” alias “Ali oop” …. I was his paper boy (reporter dispatch) as well as on the receiving end of a record number of detentions LOL. Before high school was over though thanks in part to him I began writing a sports column in the in the Pleasantville Journal.
After graduation I went right to Air Force boot camp. The discipline that he imparted to me made that and many other of life’s challenges much more bearable. Now as a father and grandfather, the things I learned from him I would call “tough love” I have used them well and we could use much more of it in the world today.
SO here is to Anthony Sabella. He made the world a much better place because he was here and that is a fact!  We will all miss him, but his legacy lives on in all of us that knew him. In fact his legacy is present in many of our everyday actions. Life is good when you are proud of what you do.
Thanks Mr. Sabella

Comments

[dk]

.....not me, db. sabella was the poser; rusted relic from world war somethin-or-other. i was never in trouble at phs; pure 'goody-good' as sister ellen would say. or rarely that is, cross over into naughtinessl. p'r'aps a bit with the basketball dork coach....and there was that thing about banning DAR and American Legion awards with dave watts. truly i didn't hit my stride till haverford, as you may remember.
whatever is served my threateneing or 1/2 threatening anyone? punishment! detention! expulsion! up against the wall, mothafucka! who's creed in this: get em scared early and keep em scared!

anyway it was fun to see folkses names or their comments.
pasta & pesto, lotsa garlic....dk

[Burt Gershater]

Dear Friends,

Tough Tony was tough. But he was also a hard working, dedicated and loving man. We didn't get it back then. We didn't get that those guys had to be tough. They struggled through the Great Depression. They fought in WWII to give us the great life most of us were born into.

Tough Tony was tough but he wasn't mean. He loved us enough to not put up with our bullshit as he saw it and we didn't always see it his way. How could we?

I look back on my 4 years at P'ville High and I see Tough Tony chewing out someone who was wearing the wrong clothes or who was smooching in the hall or was late for school or was kicked out of class for being a wise ass or didn't turn in their homework assignment. He wanted us to do it right, as he saw it.

At our tenth year reunion, Tony came up to me as I was standing with in a group of my old buddies. I was living in Arizona then and wearing my western style blue jeans and sports coat. Unlike the east coast (at least back then), blue jeans were standard dress in the southwest.

Tony looked at my jeans and looked up at me and said, "Gershater, who the hell taught you how to dress?" I was clearly in violation of a high school dress code.

He gave me an opportunity I couldn't turn down. I shot back at him and said, "Kiss my ass Sabella." He visually flinched. He wasn't prepared for my insolence.

It was something I always wanted to say but never could. The consequences wouldn't have been worth it in high school.

Maybe we all wanted to say "kiss my ass" to Tough Tony. At that time I was proud of my new found mouth. How I finally put Tough Tony in his place, surrounded by my disbelieving high school mates.

But I soon regretted my words. Maybe it took a year to feel the regret. Maybe more. I tried to get in touch with Tony a few time. Obviously I didn't try hard enough. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for talking to him like that. He didn't deserve my sharp words. He didn't know about the western dress code and really, he just wanted to joust a little bit with me.
It was my pent-up hair-trigger mouth firing off a quick retaliatory barrage.
It hit the mark but I still wish I had just laughed and told Tony how much I loved him.

PHS wouldn't have been PHS without you Tony. We were lucky. Thanks for being Tough Tony but we know you were a lot more than that.

Bless you on your journey and thank you for being on ours.

Burt Gershater

[Gary Donelian]

Mr. Sabella...capital MR.
He was to paraphrase,'a legend in his own time'and his reputation as disciplinarian at PHS was well known to those of us youngsters who had never met or seen him,as wayward youth crossing the fuzzy boundary beteween Armonk and Pleasantville Schools.To be sure,he was tough,as Burt and Skip said...and direct.A glare,raised eyebrow...a students last name barked with clear intention as to remind us of his presence and scrutiny,was never injurious.Intimidating,to be sure...and surely always in our best interests,although our only recourse was to test him,as cubs pawing at the tigers tail...how tough and smart we all were,as puffed up wannabees.
My best recollections of him were as constant and perennial bolster of athletics..especially our Panthers,where I still see him wearing the green and white nylon wind breaker..don't know if he ever missed a football game,as I did.
At the track team awards dinner...he was stellar.Each of us recieved more than the tokens we'd earned...as seniors,we knew it was our last hurrah,as did he.There was no longer any need for toughness on his part.He had made his mark on us,and we knew it.We were blind to how many times his mark had been made before,and it made no matter.His attention was individual,and clearly based in love and the realization and pride that we were embarking...
American History in senior year was momentous,as the events of 1963 and 1964..the march on Washington for civil rights,Freedom Riders,and conflict Nationwide brought Martin Luther King's presence and message to us...and Mr. Sabella queried us not only with the whens,whose and whys...but the hows and what ifs.
As a retired teacher myself,I say...
Thank you,Mr. Sabella.

Gary Donelian '64

[Gilly.....class of 64]

Dave :
Are you positive the man is dead ? If not I'll stop right here. I don't want to use the names we called him unless he is truly and irrevokably dead. I'll just call him Tough Tony without fear of retribution. Everyone called him that and he knew it, he also revelled in that moniker, he loved it. Many people have praised this man and I cannot add or retract anything that has been said of him. I respected the man and still do. this man of his ilk will sadly not pass this way again.

Do you know how the name Tough Tony came to him ? Once upon a time about five lifetimes ago, Mr. Sabella had a most troubling student. as I recall Bobby Moloturno was the toughest, meanest and scarriest kid the "Flats" ever produced. That was saying something ! One day, Moloturno had enough of Sabella and called him out, after school, outside the buildng behind the gym......to make a very long story short. Hence forth, Bobby Moloturno never returned to PHS and Anthony Sabella would be known forever as Tough Tony.

PS :I remember your sit down protest, you told me all about it, the next day while I was serving my time in what seemed like perpetual detention.

Have you had a Ray Bogoslav sighting lately ?

[Bill Bracciodieta MD]

A quick anecdote in re Tony Sabella. I wound up in the assistant prinical's office infrequently during my four years at PHS, but each visit left an indelible impression and lessons learned. Up until then, I had the ususal student's relationship with Tony Sabellla. However all that was destined to change in the Spring of 1962, which was my senior year at PHS. At that time, the baseball team was in the thick of the fight for the old SWIAC championship. About mid-season, our coach, Chuck Beatty became ill, and was replaced, temporarily, by Tony Sabella. As captain of the team, it fell upon me to help him coach the team, since it became very clear that he knew little about the team or about baseball. Prior to our first game under his baseball coaching tenure, he disappeared during pre-game warm-ups. When the umpires asked to speak to our coach about our line-up, he was nowhere to be seen. I subsequently found him pacing nervously back and forth in the old Parway Field locker room. In that private moment, he shared the fear that he had about blowing the team's chances for the championship. He had not made out the lineup, and I knew it at that moment. He looked at me and communicated nov-verbally that he needed help. My offer to make out the line-up was quickly accepted by him. We then also proceeded to set up some code words for the two of us to use during the game, which were related to basic baseball strategies that we might need to employ. He asked me for my advice on how to approach the situation. The only advice that I felt compelled to give him was "act like you know what you are doing". Suddenly, the typical gruff demeanor, which we all knew as his trademark, reappeared. He then proceeded to tell me to get my butt onto the field and finish the pre-game warm-ups. I left the locker room and he followed shortly thereafter, line-up in hand. He then began bellowing generic sports aphorisms which he kept up the entire game. I was pitching that day, and I remember that we won, but not who we played or details of the game. I do recall that he left the baseball strategy up to me. However,my most vivid memory of that game was watching him pace and bellow behind our team's bench, baseball bat in hand, which he proceed to pound repeatedly against the bench and nearby fences, the blows increasing in force and frequency as the game progressed. I summoned him to the pitcher's mound more than once just to calm him down. I was more worried about him than I was the opposing team. He finally broke that baseball bat in two just as the final out of the game was recorded. As I recall, after we won the next game, with Mr. Sabella continuing his intitial method of operation and after we lost two more baseball bats, Chuck Beatty returned to coach the team, probably prematurely healthwise. That would be, I am guessing, because he heard about how things were going with in terms of the team's interim coach and the rate we were losing baseball bats. After we won the 1962 SWIAC baseball championship, while I was saying a few words at the Spring sports awards assembly, I went on to present Tony Sabella with a plastic baseball bat of the whiffle-ball variety. I said this gift was just in case he was called on to coach any other baseball teams. We then exchanged the first of the many wry smiles that we would share in the future. It was during those two baseball games in the Spring of 1962, during which we shared coaching responsibility, that I got to see what was actually underneath Tony Sabella's gruff demeanor and how he summoned that demeanor when necessary. We developed a bond of sorts after sharing that coaching experience, which was evidenced only by the exchange of those wry smiles when we ran into each other over the years. This is the first time I have told this entire story, but I think it underscores other posts in terms of what the man was really all about.

Looking back, it is clear to me now that Mr. Sabella was one of several men in my life who taught me how to be a man, starting with my father and continuing with my PHS football Coach Kurachek. Those of us who were lucky enough to know him, were truly blessed. I have been blessed more than most.

Bill Bracciodieta MD

[Katherine Kalevas]

I have just read the above article and I wonder if there is any way of having that former student of mine contact me. I taught at Reid Ross High School Math from 1968 to 1984. I don't know much about this blogging but here goes.
Katheirne Kalevas
Retired Math Teacher
Fayetteville, NC