Comments on: Remembering John Mahoney (1928–2015)

By: Debbie Saitta-Ringger, '73

Debbie Saitta-Ringger, '73 — Mon, 14 Sep 2015 23:58:24 +0000

It is no exaggeration to say that Professor Mahoney is probably the single greatest reason that I am in my 40th year of teaching English literature, initially on the secondary level and now as a community college professor. His genuine interest in his students, his vast knowledge of literature and the arts, and his drive to share his passion for both remain the standards which I strive to approach in my profession. We English majors in the early 1970s were blessed to pursue our studies in an incredibly talented and qualified department, but classes and informal conversations with Professor Mahoney were truly unforgettable.

By: Kerry Conway

Kerry Conway — Sun, 13 Sep 2015 22:38:36 +0000

Professor Mahoney was a consummate gentleman. I was honored to be one of his students. No matter how grand or how insignificant your background may have been, he always treated everyone equally, with respect. He will be missed.

By: Bill Duda

Bill Duda — Sun, 13 Sep 2015 17:49:02 +0000

John Mahoney was the commencement speaker at my graduation from Xavier High School , Middletown, CT in 1969. I thought “So this is what college in going to be like.” I was fortunate to have Prof. Mahoney for two semesters my junior year. He was the epitome of a college professor. He was the best. Mahoney, Jenks and Folkard showed me that there is always more to learn. Thank you and God Bless!

By: James E. Whalen

James E. Whalen — Fri, 11 Sep 2015 18:41:15 +0000

John Mahoney was my English teacher my freshman year in 1950. He taught, or attempted to teach, T.S. Eliot to a group of tough Irishmen from Waltham etc. We thought the poetry too subjective.
He thought us to be too young. Because of him and Weston Jenks I got my degree in English and taught successfully at Whittier High for twenty years.

By: Anthony J. Megna AB'63

Anthony J. Megna AB'63 — Fri, 11 Sep 2015 18:04:56 +0000

Thank you for posting Prof. Mahoney’s reading. I was in his class in 1961 and his class was one I never missed. A true teacher who loved what he taught and he conveyed that to his students. He was a treasure!

By: Bob Ferreira

Bob Ferreira — Fri, 11 Sep 2015 17:04:28 +0000

Bob Ferreira ’61
Prof. Mahoney had a wonderful sense of perspective. I handed him in a painting instead of a paper because I thought it better expressed my thoughts. He accepted it and gave me a grade. Quite a guy,

By: Claudia Collins Daileader

Claudia Collins Daileader — Fri, 11 Sep 2015 01:51:35 +0000

Thank you, Professor Mahoney.
I hope John Donne was the first to greet you in your new world. Two like minded people finally meeting face to face.

By: Paul Harrington, '86

Paul Harrington, '86 — Fri, 11 Sep 2015 00:16:10 +0000

Farewell, dear teacher and inspirer, and my condolences to the Mahoney family. You hadn’t truly experienced poetry at BC until you heard Professor Mahoney bring it to life in his classroom, which I was fortunate enough to do a few times. My heart breaks thinking this giant of man is no longer with us, but it rejoices as well as I imagine him walking and talking now in the Lakes District with his muses Keats, Shelley, and Wordsworth. I recall him once saying how Wordsworth’s “Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey” was one of his favorite poems, so I wanted to post the last few lines in tribute to Mr. Mahoney:
“…And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.”

By: Beth Lebel

Beth Lebel — Thu, 10 Sep 2015 23:35:24 +0000

John Mahoney was my favorite professor during my time at BC. I’ll always remember the day he taught class in full character as Willy Loman from Death of A Salesman. Rest in peace, Mr. M. See you on the other side!

By: Beth Curren

Beth Curren — Thu, 10 Sep 2015 23:26:34 +0000

Thank you for posting the recording. It was lovely to hear Prof. Mahoney’s voice, reciting Longfellow’s poem. I closed my eyes and was back in class, listening and watching as he paced around the front of the room, engaging us all and making us believe that each and everyone of us could be part of the creative tradition.