Carrying the Torch of Liberty

When a Peace Corps Volunteer and naturalized American kicked off the Pan American Games

Here in the Washington, DC area, where public service, education, and community roots run deep, we understand the quiet impact one life can have.

My father, Victor Joseph Corbin, is one of those lives.

As part of the Peace Corps’ earliest pilot program under President John F. Kennedy, he served in Costa Rica in the early 1960s. He didn’t observe from a distance. He immersed himself fully, working alongside local families, helping build infrastructure, teaching English, and becoming part of daily life. He didn’t just serve the community. He became part of it.

That mattered.

In the early 1960s, during the Pan American Games, a major international sporting event held every four years, my father was selected to carry the Torch of Liberty, an honor tied to unity, service, and shared identity. He had immersed himself so deeply in Costa Rican life that, although he was a U.S. citizen, he was chosen by the local community to carry the torch because he had become part of it, in a role typically filled by members of the country through which it passes.

And yet, that moment has never been formally recorded as part of Peace Corps history.

Born in Venezuela, my father came to the United States as a child after his mother married an American Army soldier who adopted him. Raised in Baltimore and naturalized at fourteen, he grew up with a deep appreciation for this country, not just in words, but in action. When he served abroad, he represented the United States not by standing apart, but by working alongside others, shoulder to shoulder.

When he returned to Costa Rica fifty years later, he was featured in Costa Rican news and stood out once again, even among fellow returning volunteers, still relatable, still deeply loved.

That same spirit carried through the rest of his life. He became a teacher, a coach, and a dean of students, touching countless lives over decades. He received lifetime achievement recognition from both his alma mater and the institutions he served.

Like many who dedicate their lives to service, he never sought recognition.

But that doesn’t mean his story should be forgotten.

My father is now 86 and as of late has suffered from health issues. Our family still has the original slides from that moment, images that capture not just an event, but a life defined by service. We are ready to share them in the hope that this piece of history can finally be preserved, because this isn’t just about one man.

It’s about whether we take the time to remember those who quietly lived out the ideals we still claim to value, and that so many of us in this region genuinely do.

If the Peace Corps stands for anything, it’s that service matters. That connection matters. That showing up and doing the work matters.

We often celebrate history in hindsight. But sometimes, we are given the chance to preserve it in real time.

This is one of those moments.

And it’s one we shouldn’t miss.

Elizabeth Nudo wrote this article to honor her father’s Peace Corps service and the lasting impact it had on her family, as well as the influence his life and service continue to have on others.