Updated October 28, 2024, at 10:39 a.m.
On May 15, 1992, the last leader of the Soviet Union was onstage at the Harvard Institute of Politics’ JFK Jr. Forum for a discussion when he took a question from a tall, self-assured man in square glasses.
Looking Mikhail Gorbachev straight in the eye, Nicholas S. Daniloff ’56 began speaking into the microphone.
“In 1986, you were preparing to meet with President Reagan when a Soviet physicist was arrested in New York. In retaliation for that action, the KGB arrested an American correspondent in Moscow,” Daniloff said, speaking first in Russian and then in English. “I am that correspondent — and I would like to know who in your apparatus thought up that bright idea.”
His quip set off a roar of laughter from the audience. The former Soviet leader told Daniloff that he had no explanation for the decision other than retaliation. “You’re just a living example of what happened to the best,” Gorbachev said.
Friends, family members, and former colleagues said the episode was indicative of Daniloff’s character during his decades-long tenure as a journalist for U.S. News & World Report and United Press International. They described him as brave, curious, forthright yet forgiving, and above all, committed to journalism.
“Nick was like that — always inquisitive, always wanted to know more, to learn more,” said Lincoln McKie, a professor and former colleague at the Northeastern University School of Journalism. “Never stopped learning, which is a sign of a good journalist and a good academic.”
Daniloff died on Oct. 17, 2024 at an assisted living facility in Cambridge. He was 89.
Daniloff did not seek trouble when he traveled to Moscow as a foreign correspondent for U.S. News & World Report in 1981.
But in 1986, he got a call from an old Soviet contact — Misha Luzin — and the two met near the Lenin Hills in Moscow. They exchanged some materials — Daniloff gave Luzin two Stephen King novels, while Luzin gave a packet which he said contained Soviet news clippings — before Daniloff began walking home.
Five minutes later, KGB officers had him in handcuffs.
“I knew, even as they seized me, that I would be a hostage for Gennadi Zakharov, the Soviet employee of the U.N. arrested a week earlier in New York on espionage charges,” Daniloff wrote in an October 1986 account of his arrest.
He was imprisoned and interrogated in the Soviet Union’s notorious Lefortovo Prison for nearly two weeks. Daniloff was released to the embassy on Sept. 13, 1986, in exchange for Zakharov’s release from an American prison.
Miranda Daniloff Mancusi, Daniloff’s daughter, said awaiting her father’s return was “horrifying.”
“You worried that it was going to escalate so far that if somebody didn’t find a solution, he was going to go off and be imprisoned for a long time,” she said. “And his case was very lucky.”
When Nicholas Daniloff returned home, a media frenzy ensued, and his story featured on cable news and in national newspapers. Still, he handled it with grace, McKie said.
“He wasn’t boastful about the attention that he accrued because of that incident,” McKie said. “I think he’s very proud of the way it all played out.”
Daniloff’s ordeal resurfaced in March 2023, when Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich was similarly detained in Russia for more than a year on espionage charges before his release in August. Prior to the release, Daniloff wrote an op-ed in the Journal comparing his story with Gershkovich’s.
“Reporting in Russia has always been risky. The authorities there have never been comfortable with the open flow of information, and they have recently imposed new restrictions on public protests,” Daniloff wrote. “We need to protect and honor the bravery of foreign correspondents, photographers and stringers all over the world, reporting in difficult and dangerous circumstances.”
Though Daniloff had an impressive career as a journalist, former colleagues said his real calling was in mentoring a new generation of reporters.
In 1989, he began teaching at the Northeastern University School of Journalism. Given his extensive journalistic experience, some of Daniloff’s colleagues expected him to focus on writing and perhaps teach just a few graduate seminars.
Instead, Daniloff embraced his role as a professor with zeal.
“In addition to those graduate seminars and international reporting, he also taught basic news writing courses, and did it with a great deal of enthusiasm, which I think might have surprised a couple of us,” said Charles Fountain, a retired Northeastern associate professor.
Former colleagues of Daniloff’s at Northeastern described him as a deeply caring and considerate professor.
“He would talk endearingly about his students, always looking for new ways of teaching. He would ask questions of other teachers about how they approach certain subjects or what they brought into the class,” McKie said. “He was beloved by his students because of that, and because of his easy going manner. He treated people fairly, kindly, considerately — a very benevolent soul, Nick was.”
Despite being notoriously bad with names, Daniloff went the extra mile for his students Each year, he took a photo of his classes and wrote students’ names on it.
“He took extra time to make sure he had a name to go with the face, and the photo was the way he did it,” McKie said.
Fountain said Daniloff’s commitment to his students was tied to his own experience as an early career journalist. Fountain recalled him saying, “‘I wish I had gone to Northeastern because when I started, I didn’t know what I was doing.’”
“I think it was important to him to just, you know, to pass on what he had learned to the next generation” said his son, Caleb Daniloff.
Daniloff’s loved ones said his kindness, inquisitive spirit, and sense of civic duty extended well beyond the classroom.
Mancusi, his daughter, described him as a “wonderful husband,” a “loving father,” and a feminist before “the term was even coined.”
“As a dad, I would say that he was a very sort of gentle guy,” she said.
Daniloff was rather “adventurous,” she added. He took her as a child to White House Christmas parties to meet presidents and other top journalists.
He also indulged in many hobbies. He rowed in the Head of the Charles well into his 70s and practiced beekeeping at the family’s house in Vermont and while he lived in Washington D.C.
“He would get stung every now and then, but he didn’t mind,” Mancusi said.
Even in his final moments, surrounded by friends and family, Daniloff remained committed to his civic ideals. He filled out his presidential ballot the day before he died, which his son mailed.
He was “a patriot to the end,” said his son-in-law, Peter Mancusi.
“I don’t think I could have plotted out a better final 48 hours for Nick than to have been in touch or seen the people he loved most, and to vote doing his civic duty,” he added.