Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.
After our stimulating academic presentations, it is now my pleasure to welcome you to a singular event in the life of Boston College and the life of the Connell family. We gather to re-dedicate our School of Nursing in the name of William F. Connell, a distinguished alumnus and trustee of Boston College, a beloved husband and father, a cherished leader in both our business and civic communities, and a recipient of Boston College’s highest award, the Ignatius medal.
During my years in serving this university, none of our seven schools and colleges stood higher in my admiration than our school of nursing. Its research and its course of studies differ significantly from each of our other professional programs; it combines the demands of both theory and practice, of science and of art. But the profession of nursing calls for qualities of heart as well – a unique cherishing of the importance and value of good health and well being that inspires commitment to the profession – and an even deeper sensitivity to the impact of illness and the almost miraculous ability to comfort and support those who experience it.
Because of Bill’s lifelong example of the virtues of both mind and heart, no tribute could be more fitting than the naming of this school of nursing in his honor.
Each of us gathered here this afternoon had a unique perspective on Bill’s life. I perhaps had a privileged vantage point upon his special relationship to Boston College. Bill was one of the first of a new generation of alumni-trustees who joined our board in the early ‘70s and provided oversight and leadership in the literal transformation of this university. That leadership came in the form of high intelligence, of experienced managerial oversight and acumen, of intensely ambitious dedication to the well-being of their alma mater, but in a spirit of friendly service and of teamwork where each served not in his or her own interest, but only to provide the help of which each was capable. Bill was the paragon of that type of leadership, the youngest of a new generation of chairmen.
Bill could absorb whole pages of complex financial data in a single glance, take account of every thread of argument involved in major decisions, and almost intuitively recognize the right, the simple way forward because, as Aristotle understood, Bill’s heart always resonated with what is good.
People who have reflected on the beginnings of Bill's life have remarked that Bill earned every success he achieved -- that no one gratuitously gave him anything. Bill used to describe himself as "lucky," but what he really meant, deep down, was that he realized all the good things were gifts, not of his contriving. His beloved mother and father, Margot and each of the children, his education and each business opportunity that came his way, his intelligence and good sense, above all, his deep faith and the wisdom to make his faith and hope and love the motivation of all he did; all of these were gifts.
It was this unshakable conviction that everything was gift that made Bill such a modest man. Bill knew his strengths, but he knew those strengths were gifts, unmistakable signs that he had the love of his family, his friends, his teachers and business associates, and most of all, through his gift of faith, he had the certainty of god's love. And it was this realization of being loved by others that made him capable of so much kindness and love in return. Everyone could look to Bill with confidence, from a business leader needing advice to a youngster needing an education – to a school of nursing.
Bill was a man filled with energy and vitality and an exuberant love of life. It was during his sudden and mercifully shortened illness that both the sophisticated expertise and the loving sincerity of heart he received in his nursing care inspired him to lend his name to the William F. Connell school of nursing at Boston College. Both in ideals and in achievement, these two names will forever enhance each other. Both in their distinguished accomplishment and their aspirations, I almost feel the names were made for each other.