Albert Louis Malatesta

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.

Henry David Thoreau


Albert “Bert” Louis Malatesta January 10, 1937 – October 19, 2025



Albert “Bert” Louis Malatesta, loyal friend and husband, Korean War Veteran, World Traveler, Transatlantic Sailor, and Professor Emeritus at Emerson College, passed away peacefully at The Kaplan Family Hospice House in Danvers, Massachusetts on October 19, 2025, while holding the hands of his devoted wife of 38 years, Barbara Ann Wynn Malatesta.

Bert was 88 years old and had bravely battled with Parkinson’s Disease, Kidney Disease, and Lewy Body Dementia for over 10 years. As Dylan Thomas wrote, Bert did not want to “go gentle into that good night”, and he worked hard despite his multiple illnesses, to preserve and maintain his mobility and creativity until he passed. He would tell his wife Barbara that he was raging “against the dying of the light”, whenever she asked him to please slow down. His life was defined by a zest and love for adventure, originality, creativity, love of the ocean, and dedication to caring for others. He was generous, empathic, kind, loving, and extremely loyal to those he loved and cared for. Bert was truly one of a kind and is sorely missed by those who knew him.

Like his hero, Henry David Thoreau, Bert preferred to walk to the beat of a different drummer, carving his own individualistic path of non-conformity, self-reliance and unconventionality. He was a man of many diverse talents: an educator, orator, philosopher, artist (glass and paint), published poet, writer, musician, singer, voracious reader, lifelong learner, sailor, Glider pilot, race car driver, chef, creative landscaper and motorcycle enthusiast. He was happiest when watching European Football, especially when his team, Arsenal Football Club, defeated the Tottenham Hotspur Football Club.

While Bert was often called a “Renaissance Man”, he preferred the more modest term, “generalist”, instead, to describe him and his creative endeavors across disciplines. He loved adventure and risk taking and was willing to try anything and everything.

Bert’s journey in life began on January 10, 1937, in South Medford, Massachusetts, as the son of Albert Angelo Malatesta and Jeanette (Doran) Malatesta, and younger brother to his late sister, Phyllis Marie Malatesta Smith (2025). Bert and Phyllis shared a very deep and loving sibling bond throughout both their lives. Bert went to Medford Schools and graduated from the Medford Vocational Technical High School as a Printer in 1954. He learned how to play the Clarinet and was a member of the Saint Joseph Grammar School band. He loved having the opportunity to march and play in parades in the Boston area.

In his early teenage years, Bert hadn’t yet set any goals for his life and began hanging around with the wrong crowd and getting into trouble in his blue-collar neighborhood. He ended up stealing a car and getting into a significant accident. The judge at the time gave him two options, six months in jail, or join the U.S. Navy for four years. Bert credits a man he worked closely with part-time at a store in Medford, Jules Cohen, for speaking up for him in court and letting the judge know that he was really a good kid who needed to find a path in life. Bert never forgot Jules's kindness and willingness to speak up for him when no one else would. Knowing that his father was a World War I U.S. Navy Veteran, Bert joined the U.S. Navy in 1954, at the tail end of the Korean War and this experience would change his life’s path forever.

Bert’s love of the sea began with his service in the U.S. Navy. However, for the first six months of his service, he was seasick and had a health discharge hanging over his head. He did not want to leave the Navy for any reason and used his force of will to overcome seasickness by sitting on the highest point of the ship each day, eating crackers and drinking ginger ale.

He succeeded.

As an enlisted man, Bert was stationed on the U.S.S. Norris, first as a Petty Officer Third Class, working as a Sonar Specialist, with an eventual promotion to Petty Officer Second Class. Bert credits the U.S. Navy with changing his life in a positive way. He studied Sonar, while several “mentor” Officers taught him that he had a brain and could do anything he wanted to do once he left the Navy.
He learned about classical music, literature, art, hard work, discipline, and traveled throughout South America, Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. He crossed the equator (line) several times and enjoyed the onboard initiation rituals to Neptune, God of the sea, especially when he was a pollywog. His ship, The USS Norris, was the first ship to pass through the Suez Canal during the Suez Crisis when Egypt was not allowing US ships to pass through.

He always stated it was an extremely scary situation, with weaponry pointed directly at the ship passing through. As a sonar specialist he was able to work with the Italian Navy, on their submarines, teaching sonar and helping them to refit the sonar they were using at the time.
His goal at the time was to stay in the Navy for life and go to Submarine School. Unfortunately, when it was time to re-enlist, Submarine School wasn’t an option, so he left the Navy in 1958, remaining in the reserves until 1962. Later in life, despite his many accomplishments, he regretted not staying in the Navy for life. He became a military buff, and studied not only the US World Wars, but Wars fought many centuries ago. He was a dedicated student of history, no matter the topic.

After Bert left the Navy, he felt confident enough to apply to college on the GI Bill. Boston University was the first to accept him, and he stayed at Boston University to earn his bachelor’s degree, master’s degree, and Ph.D., as well as becoming a Psychology and Education Professor at Boston University for eight years. He often couldn’t believe what he had achieved and would talk about being a kid from the streets of South Medford who wasn’t going anywhere, to now having several college degrees and working as a professor. He was proud of his life story and would often pass on his knowledge to his students about how to achieve anything in life.

While Bert was pursuing his dreams studying at Boston University, he decided to take a job working as an English Literature teacher at North Reading High School. It was the early 60’s at this point and he prided himself on his unusual teaching style, standing on desks reciting Dickens and Shakespeare to his students long before Robin Williams did the same in the movie The Dead Poet’s Society.
He was so proud when the Class of 1965 at North Reading High School dedicated their yearbook to him. In the dedication, they wrote: We will all remember Mr. Malatesta for the careful guidance he has given us and the personal interest and friendship he offered to each of us. We will remember a quoted philosophy of Mr. Malatesta’s from Shakespeare’s Macbeth: "Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing". He has repeatedly contradicted this quotation and given more meaning to the word life “life” for all of us.

Bert met and married his first wife, Jane Malatesta, also an educator and long-term family friend at this time.

After working for many years as a professor, Bert took a lengthy sabbatical and moved with Jane to Brewster, Cape Cod Massachusetts, where they had a beautiful home on the ocean cliffs. Always a dog lover, they had Chesapeake Bay Retrievers named after jazz musicians, a tradition he continued with his wife Barbara. He began working as a practicing private Psychologist, counseling adult clients exclusively. He loved hanging at the local watering hole, the Woodshed with his many friends, especially the late Dan McCullough (2025), where they could debate and philosophize about life all night long while enjoying a few beers.

Prior to moving to the Cape, Bert had taught himself to sail while working as a camp counselor and now wanted to own and sail a larger sailboat. He spent many years sailing his Tartan 27 sailboat, The Walden, around the Cape, Martha’s Vineyard, and Nantucket, while also chartering sailboats in the British Virgin Islands. He loved sailing and dreamed of one day living aboard a sailboat full-time.
It was on the Cape that Bert learned how to make art glass from his long-time friend Bill Sydenstricker. He worked in Bill’s studio for many years making art glass to be sold in the shop, Sydenstricker’s Glass. Eventually, Bert decided to leave the Cape, and he went back to being a Psychology/Education Professor at Emerson College, while living in the Boston area.

He was a self-taught musician with a love of Jazz and Bebop music. He learned to play the saxophone, clarinet, various flutes, vibraphones, and Tin Whistle. Bert could pick up any instrument and learn how to play it. He had an ear for music. He worked as a Jazz DJ at a Boston Radio Station and formed a jazz group called the “Urban Entertainers” who played around the Boston area. He was great friends with Minnie Riperton and her husband Richard Rudolph, who lived with them for a year while Minnie created the Album “Perfect Angel”, and the popular song “Lovin’ You”.

Along the way, Bert started solo parachuting and moved on to flying Glider Planes and racing his Porsche on the weekends. He loved the risks, excitement and challenges these activities posed, but he was also able to sit quietly and write or paint abstract art or try his hand at learning Italian.

Bert was extremely proud when he decided to learn Celestial Navigation on a transatlantic sailboat trip from Portugal back to the United States. It was a peak experience in his life. When he came home after that long trip, he fulfilled his long-term wish and lived year round for four years on his 37 ft. Kadey Krogen sailboat, which was perfect for offshore and solo sailing. Barbara moved on board with him for three years and they spent their summers sailing up and down the Eastern Coast of the United States, as well as across to the Bahamas, and down the chain of Islands in the Caribbean. There were glorious days of sailing and hunkering down in the winter as full-time live aboard sailors, on Walden III at the Constitution Marina in Boston. Walking down the docks to the parking lot while they were covered with snow was always a fun challenge. Bert was delighted in the fact that Barbara proved herself to be a true sailor, learning how to navigate and sail Walden III. He would laugh when she reached for a sweater that had frozen to the inside of the boat closet, and gamely put it right on. She had proved herself seaworthy. Those years on the Walden III were incredibly special and cemented the lifelong commitment and marriage between Barbara and Bert. Eventually, the land came calling again, and they sold the boat and moved to shore in Medford.

Bert and Barbara were married on February 14, 1988, in front of Nobska Light in Falmouth Massachusetts, after living together for several years. They both hoped that the symbolism of marrying at a lighthouse would mean they would always have a light to guide them back to each other forever, and it did.

Bert and Barbara moved back to the beach, while Barbara began her career as a High School Guidance Counselor and continued her graduate education. Still up for any adventure, they learned to hang glide, ski, hike mountains, go to the opera in New York, travel frequently to Ireland while Bert learned to sail the traditional Galway Hooker sailboats and race at the Roundstone Regatta in Connemara, County Galway, Ireland, where Barbara’s maternal family is from. Their life together has been filled with amazing adventures and an enduring love.

Sailing has always remained a big part of their life together and they continued sailing in the Caribbean with friends and family. They moved to a property in Danvers Massachusetts that was wooded so their dogs Lester Young and Henry David Thoreau, a Hungarian Vizsla and a Brittany, could have a large yard to run and play in. Bert began landscape gardening and built a beautiful Japanese Meditation Garden, and joined a local choir, where he loved singing, especially Handel’s “Messiah” during the holidays. He also joined a BMW Motorcycle Club and loved riding around New England with his friends Mike Garcia, Patrick Nestor, and Keith McDonald, with Barbara always on the back. Bert rode until he was 75 years old.

Barbara built a huge rock garden at home, and both were content with a slower pace of life. Bert earned Emeritus status at Emerson College for 37 years of teaching, and Barbara retired after 25 years as a high school guidance counselor to take care of Bert as age and illness crept in. They could no longer have dogs underfoot because of the fall risk for Bert, so they have enjoyed living with their beautiful Maine Coon Cats, Aoife and Declan.

Bert lived his life to its fullest and expressed that he had no regrets and had not missed any adventure or travel he could have in his life. Through his love of teaching and his life/Buddhist values, he touched the lives of so many people. He hoped his teachings would help others to live a peaceful and rational life, knowing that they had free will to choose the path and create the garden they wanted in life.

While Bert did not practice a theology, he lived his life following Buddhist philosophy and the Tao de Ching. He walked his own path in life, and created his own life garden, while never judging others. The sheer number of students who passed through his classrooms can attest to his impact on their lives, a legacy anyone would be proud of.

A full life well lived.

Bert leaves behind his devoted wife Barbara, His beloved niece Kerin O’Brien and her husband Michael Duffy, His lifelong friends, Charles Ryan, Dr. Philip Amato, Dr. Vito Sylvestri, Dr. Martha Collette and her husband Ted Heron, and many brother and sister in laws.
Donations in Bert’s name can be made to Care Dimensions, 75 Sylvan St. Suite B-102, Danvers, MA 01923 or online at caredimensions.org/donate.

Do not go gentle into That Good Night

Dylan Thomas

1951

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

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