Alberto Castro readily admits that math was never his strong suit. Yet what he lacked in aptitude he always made up for in persistence.

And when he walked into Algebra II at Hope High School 23 years ago, he knew what was ahead of him … or so he thought.

Signing up for that course would be a life-changing decision.

The teacher who greeted Castro was former Army Specialist 4th Class Brian Carn. Carn saw a smart, hard-working student with loads of potential in front of him. Not just as a student, but as a leader.

“I could always count on Alberto to pick up things pretty quick in the classroom,” Carn says. “But instead of being selfish and saying, ‘Oh, well, I understand it,’ and moving on, he would turn and help people to the left and right of him.

“While Hope was for years considered the worst school in Providence, we still had a ton of wonderful students,” says Carn.

He found out pretty quickly that semester that Alberto Castro was one of them.

Algebra II Teacher Carn had once been a high school dropout. “I grew up in Cranston and dropped out of Cranston East right after 11th grade. I turned 17 in May, went on active duty in June, and in October I was on the DMZ in Korea,” said Carn, who served there during the Vietnam War.

It was a difficult environment for a teenager, with potentially deadly consequences. But Carn was fortunate to have landed in the 2nd U.S. Infantry Division as a combat engineer — “the pick-and-shovel grunts of the Army,” according to Carn.

“Being the youngest soldier in the company, if not the battalion, everyone did their best to look out for me, but none more so than my squad leader and assistant squad leader,” said Carn. “They took care of me like a son and little brother, respectively, so I worked through the learning curve of being a soldier in a not-always safe environment.

“We backed up the division’s 2nd Brigade, which was comprised of three light infantry battalions. Second Brigade was the ‘flying squad’ of the division, its infantry battalions being deployed as needed during frequent alerts to plug gaps and conduct sweeps looking for North Korean infiltrators who may have slipped through the DMZ.

“This was the lowest point in U.S. military history, as far as morale. We had guys that were so into drugs that the sergeant wouldn’t give them ammunition.”

“On one occasion, my assistant squad leader definitely saved my juvenile rear end from doing something stupid (and fatal) through inexperience with a hang-fire of an M-72 LAW, where the rocket had fired but the live projectile was stuck in the tube with the arming propeller spun down.”

He spent 13 months with the 2nd Infantry Division in Korea and never forgot the two leaders who had taken him under his wing, prepared him for the unexpected, and taught him how to succeed.

“When I got out of the Army, I went where a lot of other veterans went at the time: I went to New England Tech, which was not the big, huge, fancy campus you see today. NE Tech was in a little brick factory building on Early Street in South Providence, but we did get a good education.

“So I worked on computers for 10 years, and then I got laid off in 1989. Originally, I was thinking of going back to engineering, and when I was at CCRI [pursuing that path], one of the professors in the math lab said, ‘You’ve got a really good personality. Have you ever thought of being a teacher?’

“I almost laughed at him, and I said, ‘I’m a high school dropout. You mean me as a teacher?’ And he said, ‘No, I mean it. You should really think about it.’

“You know, I did think about it.” And instead of proceeding to the University of Rhode Island for an engineering degree, Carn proceeded to Rhode Island College for a teaching degree.

“Best move I ever made,” he says.

Carn began teaching at Hope in 1995. It would be three years before Alberto landed in his classroom.

Carn saw something special in Castro, who was about the age Carn had been when he arrived in Korea. And just like the squad leaders who had taken Carn under their wings, Carn looked out for Castro, both in and out of the classroom.

In addition to teaching, Carn also was a volunteer assistant under Hope’s legendary track coach, Tom Spann. Alberto was a member of the team.

He “was a small weight thrower,” remembers Carn. “He was 5 foot 9 and going up against athletes much, much bigger than him, yet he would be competitive.

“He would always give 120 percent. He never made excuses.”

By senior year, Castro had set his sights on attending West Point.

“When he [Carn] found out I was interested in the service academy, he put me in touch with the right people,” says Castro. “With his input, along with information from Junior ROTC, and the Providence Police Explorers, they gave me a perspective of what to expect.

“Mr. Carn took it upon himself to make sure I was ready for West Point,” Castro continues. “At West Point, they are heavy into math and engineering. Everyone graduated at the top of their class. Most of my classmates [at West Point] took AP classes or junior college classes. I didn’t have that opportunity at Hope…. On the standardized test, my peers were in the 1400 to 1500 range. I was not, and where I was deficient was in math.”

Carn stepped up and tutored Castro to help prepare him for the SATs and, perhaps, help boost his math scores.

When it came time to ask for a letter of recommendation for West Point, Castro knew to tap his Algebra II teacher.

“Without question, I feel that Alberto Castro has not only the required intelligence but more importantly, the character to become a very effective leader…” Carn wrote.

Castro was accepted into West Point. His parents, Carn and Spann all celebrated the achievement.

Castro was the only Hope student accepted into a service academy then, according to the collective memory of faculty. He was the son of immigrants from the Dominican Republic, lived in South Providence, and had worked hard for this achievement.

Reporting to West Point seven days after high school graduation, Castro was filled with trepidation.

Mentally, he was prepared for the short haircuts and strict discipline. Physically, he was an athlete and felt like his training had prepared him well.

Academically, though, it would be a challenge, and officials at West Point were aware of the uphill battle he would be facing.

“The military makes red marks in your candidate profile to show where you are at risk” prior to matriculating at West Point, he says.

When Castro saw his profile years later, he recognized that “my high school transcript was covered with them,” recalls Castro. “It looked like a lit-up Christmas tree.”

Throughout Castro’s four years at West Point, Castro remembers, “Mr. Carn always checked in and encouraged me. When I had track meets, he would come support me.”

That support fueled Castro’s desire to succeed.

In 2019, he shared some memories of those years with Junior ROTC candidates at Hope.

“I have been ill-prepared for many endeavors in my life,” he wrote, “but even in the face of insurmountable odds, I never quit, and gave it my all. Most of the time, my absolute best was just good enough (I had a 2.0 or barely passing going into my junior year at West Point).

“There were times, however, where I came up just short. I did not let these setbacks discourage me but used them instead to assess what I needed to work on. Then I would regroup from that failure and make my best better!”

Graduation day at West Point arrived, and Carn and Spann traveled to New York to celebrate Castro’s success, alongside his family.

Days later, Castro was given his first assignment, with the 3rd Infantry Division in Baghdad.

Carn’s response to that news, as a mentor and a veteran, was immediate. Castro was going to Iraq at “one of the worst times to be in Baghdad,” Carn says — like the “Wild West.”

Before Castro left for Iraq, Carn mailed him a copy of the West Point recommendation letter he had written for him. The accompanying note of good wishes gave firm instructions about the letter.

“Don’t even read it,” he wrote. “Just fold it up and carry it in your pocket. If you ever have a bad day, then open it.”

Carn wanted it to be “kind of like a ‘break the glass in case of emergency’ thing… If his platoon got hit and maybe a couple of his guys got killed or several were wounded, he might start to question his own leadership abilities.” The letter would remind Castro of the man of character Carn knew him to be.

Castro later told Carn “he carried that letter for the first 11 months until it was ready to fall apart, and then he finally put it into his scrapbook.”

In Iraq, Castro earned a Bronze Star and a Combat Action Badge. Carn remembers, though, that Castro “didn't care about the medals they gave him, but the fact that he brought his guys out with no KIA's and only a couple of WIA's. He was prouder of having taken care of his men and getting them all home, rather than anything else.”

The student-teacher relationship has evolved over the years.

Carn has retired from Hope High School, and the young man he once mentored is now married with three children. Castro has traveled to Europe, the Middle East and Asia with the Army. Carn still lives in Rhode Island.

While their lives have changed and the miles between them have grown, Carn’s support of Castro remains unwavering. At each milestone in Castro’s life, Carn has been there to support him and document his success.

“He has had expensive cameras with big lenses at every event I can remember,” Castro says with a chuckle.

This month, Carn traveled to Maryland for yet another ceremony. Castro flew in from South Korea to Fort Mead in Maryland (his home base), where he was officially promoted to lieutenant colonel. Carn was there — with his camera — to photograph the ceremony.

As Brian Carn encouraged Alberto Castro to pursue his dream of a military career, so too would Lieutenant Colonel Castro like to encourage others to follow the path.

“I have one of the noblest jobs,” he says. “I get to lead our sons and daughters and execute our foreign policy abroad.

“It’s the greatest opportunity you can get.

“Where else can you get a world-class education on par with any Ivy League school? Where else can you graduate with a guaranteed job? A job that offers leadership challenges every day?

“I have full benefits and all kinds of perks. Within four or five years after graduation I was in a different socio-economic class — one that my parents never could have dreamed of. “

And so it all started, with the turn of a doorknob in Room 306 of Hope High School.

Do you know a veteran with an interesting story? Do you offer a program or service focused on serving retired military? Are you planning an event aimed at veterans or their families? Email Mary K. Talbot at ThoseWhoServedAmerica@gmail.com.