The spring semester is drawing to a close and, for me, there is always a bit of sadness as we close out a term. I like the familiarity of the classroom, the banter with my students and, generally, just being on campus.

This semester will have an added tinge of sadness, though. Professor Robert Klaeger, the chairperson of the Media & Communications Department, will be retiring after spending several decades at Pace. While many people only see or know Bob as the guy with the bowtie, he has been much more to me. Bob has been a friend, a confidant, a mentor and at times, a life saver.

I met Bob when I was a student at Pace in the mid-80s and I can’t be sure, but I think I took every class that he taught. He, along with Don Ryan and Howard Livingston, were the best three teachers on campus, all with distinctive styles and strengths. I remember specific moments and lessons from each of them as if they were yesterday.

Don dressed me down when I told him Birdie was one of the worst books I had ever read. Howard’s lesson on The Caucasian Chalk Circle by Bertolt Brecht remains with me and it is still one of my favorite stories. Bob’s moment came during his lesson on the Sennheiser Shotgun Mic. I still remember the room in Willcox we were in when Bob demonstrated how you could use the mic while standing next to a running diesel truck and not have the noise interfere with what you were taping. I wonder if he remembers it as well.

It was also during my sophomore year that I began to understand how thoughtful Bob is. My father died just before the spring semester started and Bob was a huge help. He was patient with me, talked with me and helped me through what was a very rough few months. I appreciated that he allowed me to get to know him outside of the classroom. It was the first time Bob truly looked out for me.

After that, we became friends. Bob would go to England twice a year for a few weeks, once in the fall and again in the spring. When he did, I would stay at his house in Yorktown and keep an eye on it for him. I was flattered that he trusted me. Bob would stock the fridge with beer, tell me don’t burn the place down and just make sure it was clean when he got back. He was also obsessed with making sure the lint trap in the dryer was clean but that’s a whole other story.

I think my favorite Bob anecdote as a student is about a moment from my senior year. I was in one of Bob’s production classes and he was a real stickler about bringing drinks into the studio. He never said anything to me, though, if I was in the back, just sipping on a coke or a coffee during class. One day another student came in with a drink and Bob told him to ditch it.

“You let him drink in class,” the student said while pointing at me.

“I like him,” Bob said with that wry smile of his. “I don’t like you.”

When I finally graduated and began working, I still house sat for Bob but saw him less during the rest of the year. We would run into each other from time to time when I was on campus for a visit, though. Then about 10 years ago, he reached out to me and asked me if I’d like to teach a journalism class. I jumped at the opportunity. One class became two and then two became three and I had a whole new career, again, thanks to Bob.

He has always been my “rabbi,” taking care to make sure my schedule was always full. He’s listened to my pitches for new classes and even agreed to let me teach a few of them. I’ve come to count on Bob and I can only hope that I haven’t let him down. I have so much respect for him and will be eternally grateful for all he has done to make me a better teacher and a better person.

For so many people on this campus, he’s just the little guy with the bowtie. For me, he’s been so much more. I wish him the best in retirement.

Kevin Czerwinski

Pace class of 1987