“What’s his name?”

“Sandor.”

“What’s his first name?”

“That is his first name.”

‘What’s his last name?”

“Csapo.”

I met Sandor Csapo when he came to teach at Colonia High School in 1997. Some people you get to like in the first five minutes of a conversation, and he was one of them. With an A-plus personality and an infectious smile radiating around his face, Sandor stood front and center with his genuine disposition and an unwavering positivity.

I’ve known him for over 20 years now, but not until recently did I find the fascinating story behind the evolution of his life, which by the way, had sparked an extra interest with me.

We are both Hungarians. While I was born in New Brunswick, New Jersey, Sandor, whose name translates to Alexander in English, was born in Budapest, Hungary.

His back story is anything but ordinary. His parents met as teenagers on the shores of Hungary’s Lake Balaton, the largest lake in Central Europe.

His mom, Valerie, was the Hungarian National Couples Ice Skating Champion when she was just 17. She turned professional one year later and skated for the country’s Ice Revue for six years. His dad, after serving two required years in the Hungarian military, became a school certified mechanic.

Through a friend’s advice, Valerie signed a contract in 1971 to join the Circus on Ice in Italy. The contract allowed her to legally leave Communist-ruled Hungary and stipulated that she could bring along her family.

“The Circus on Ice was very famous in Europe at the time,” said Sandor. “My dad was a head mechanic for the fleet of 18-wheel trucks that carried the monkeys, elephants, alligators, bears and all the circus equipment to Sicily, Spain, Germany, Holland, Belgium and Yugoslavia.”

For five years, the Csapos lived the high life, having money and good fortune with the circus, but in 1976, after encouragements from his dad’s sister, the family came to make America their new home.

“I was 7 at the time,” said Sandor, who ironically was born on the Fourth of July. “We moved to Woodbridge, New Jersey, and that’s where I grew up and went to high school.”

At Woodbridge, he ran cross-country and was a top five Middlesex County track athlete in the 800-meter run.

Like many European immigrants, the family struggled financially at first.

His father, who spoke five languages, opened Alex’s Auto Repair and relied on the growth of his business by word of mouth. Working with him, Sandor learned not only car repair, but also about living a life with integrity.

“My dad had a great work ethic and he taught me to never be a day late and a dollar short. Work hard to earn what you get.”

The senior Sandor, renamed the Americanized Alex, “never screwed anyone” in his son’s own words. “He never overcharged customers. If a part was defective in a car, he would show the customer that part and explain why it needed replacement. I always respected my dad for his honesty.”

His father’s example has left an everlasting effect upon his son. If Sandor would see someone drop a 20-dollar bill on the ground, he’d flag the person down and return the money. He simply does the right thing and lives true to the English transcription of his name, which means “defender of man.”

He went on to earn a degree at Kean College and came to teach special education at Colonia High School, where I had already been an English teacher for many years.

Friendships are often formed from mutual interests and between similar ages, but not in our case. We taught different subjects and we rarely had opportunities at work to have conversations. Yet, I knew his presence in the school was making him more popular with everyone. He developed a wonderful reputation as a caring teacher who helped kids with learning disabilities comprehend a variety of academic subjects.

We didn’t socialize much outside Colonia High, but the few moments we shared inside the building were special times. Then when I retired and moved to Pennsylvania, I lost some friendships with my co-workers due to long distances and changes in lifestyles.

Sometimes it’s not a large amount of time spent with someone that makes a friendship, but rather the lasting impression of just a few moments. Never did Sandor and I move on from each other.

He calls and we’ll talk for an hour on a Sunday night about anything and everything. Just a month ago, he and his lovely wife, Carrie, came for a visit and we enjoyed a wonderful weekend together. That is when I learned how his mother and father had molded his character from his days as a toddler with the circus in Italy to his years of assimilation in America. I came to understand how his family had prepared him with a strong set of uncompromised values.

French novelist Marcel Proust wrote “Let us be grateful to people who make us happy. They are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”

Sandor Csapo plants the seeds that have grown many people into his friendship. I am grateful that he has made room for me in his garden.

Rich Strack can be reached at katehep11@gmail.com.