Degree completion program

Stick-to-itiveness and a degree-completion program enable a proud man to finish a journey he started in 1967. Now, there are more goals to achieve.

There are always heart-warming stories when students move from college life into the work force. A journey started by Clifford Moller in 1967 was finally completed this year, when Moller was awarded his degree at the University of Nebraska, 1,400 miles from his Harlem home. I was lucky enough, in a small way, to be involved in the story.

I was part of a program on the black athlete that HBO held in New York several years ago. The Rev. Jesse Jackson, Spike Lee and I were among the speakers. There was a reception before the program.

I was introduced to Moller, a black man in his late 40s. Clifford said he wanted to thank me for helping him complete his dream. He was in the real estate business in New York. He was eloquently talking about many of the issues that would be discussed on the program. When he focused on how difficult it was for a black athlete from a place like Harlem to attend a predominantly white campus, I was certain he was referring to his own story.

When I asked him where he had attended college, Clifford began to lay it out for me. He grew up in a family in which basketball became his escape and gave him his identity. His namesake father was a serious gambler who lived the high life in Harlem clubs. He eventually left his wife, Bernice, and young Clifford to fend for themselves. Young Clifford, who was a lightning-fast guard, was emerging as a player to watch in a city full of basketball legends. He was an outstanding guard for William Howard Taft High in the Bronx. He was sure he would play in college, maybe even the NBA. It was during that year that Clifford's father was shot and killed while playing dice. Clifford knew then that he would not allow himself to fail in life as his father had.

When the University of Nebraska offered Clifford a scholarship, he was ready to go. However, he was not ready for what he found when he got to Lincoln, Neb., in the fall of 1967. Having left an almost all-black world in Harlem, he found himself in an almost all-white world. "Even basketball couldn't keep me going," he said. "I felt isolated and could not study. I missed New York too much. I was lost and came home."

But the drive to succeed kept him off the corners, and he worked hard to support himself. Before becoming a real estate agent, he drove a cab and worked in a school-based anti-drug program. He had a comfortable apartment, got married and had a son he named Clifford. When he and his wife separated, the father grew even closer to the son. Clifford drove his son to school every day. He took a second job to pay for private-school tuition.

Now I was up to date with Moller's story. "My son is a great student," he said. "The only thing missing is that I can't show him my degree. I want to get it."

Clifford was aware that I was the director of the National Consortium for Academics and Sport, which has a degree-completion program based at more than 190 colleges. "I have already been accepted to return to the University of Nebraska," he said, "and I wanted to meet the person responsible for the program that made it possible. You and the program have provided a way for many people to achieve their college education after a somewhat shaky start. We are all thankful."

It would be a while before Clifford and I would cross paths again.

In the winter of 1998, I was the keynote speaker for a National Association of Athletic Academic Advisers meeting in Lincoln. Though I have many friends in the Nebraska athletic department and in the university's central administration, a black man I did not recognize stood to introduce me. "I met Richard Lapchick at an HBO program in New York a few years ago.... "Suddenly, I realized it was Clifford.

Looking me in the eye, he went on: "Meeting Dr. Lapchick helped get me back to Nebraska. I am here with my son, Clifford. I will graduate in the spring of 2000."

I looked over at his son, who was beaming. By now, tears were rolling down my cheeks. The National Consortium for Academics and Sport has helped more than 17,000 former student-athletes return to their campuses, but it takes on another meaning when you see the results up so close.

Clifford called a short time ago: "I want you to know I graduated. My son was there. So was my mom. I felt so proud because Clifford now had a dad who had a college degree. I want to go to law school here (Lincoln). I was admitted to graduate school but not the law school. Maybe I will go to grad school for a year and re-apply to the law school.

"The only thing I hate about this is that my son is in New York while I am here. I miss him so much. All of this is for him. When I move back to New York, I want to be a developer of major real estate deals. Having the law degree will help that. I wish I didn't have to wait to start."

I recently received a card from Clifford: "Shortly after talking with you, I received a call from the dean of admissions of the University of Nebraska Law College. She informed me that my file had been re-opened and the committee granted me admission. All I could do was thank God."

Richard Lapchick is the director of Northeastern University's Center for the Study of Sport in Society.