Post by wgt on Jun 5, 2005 19:59:40 GMT -5
As we recognize the remarkable recruitment achievements of Coach Sol & staff I would hope that Bill Swan looks down on his beloved Bona with a sense of pride. His grave site is high atop St Bonaventure Cemetary. Too bad that Bill's demise was such a tragic outcome from the scandal. Here is a current article from Derek Gee/Buffalo News
Ann Swan, left, who lost her husband, Bill, and Susan St. Denny, who lost her son, Jeffrey Hanns, discuss their struggles to cope with their loved one's suicide.
The three women ask themselves the same question over and over again. It's a simple, one-word question. But they've never found the answer, even months or years later.
Why?
Why would their husband or son take his own life?
These were successful men, in different ways, all outgoing people who had set their expectations high and often reached them.
The three women call themselves suicide survivors.
There's Ann Swan, wife of William E. Swan, 55, the successful bank chairman and St. Bonaventure University board chairman who took his life during the school's basketball scandal two years ago.
And Susan St. Denny, whose son, Jeffrey Hanns, 27, a star Lewiston-Porter High School soccer goalie who became an assistant golf pro before taking his life in May 2002.
And a woman named Wendy, who wants to talk about her businessman husband, to help remove some of the stigma that envelops suicide. But other family members aren't ready for his story to be told.
The three women sat around a table inside the Crisis Services office on Main Street, offering views that would challenge the way most people look at suicide.
"If somebody told me Bill had a heart attack, I think I would be in a different place today," Ann Swan said. "I would say it was God's will or a natural way of dying. The fact that he took his life, you always have questions, even though you know you don't have the answers.
"Why did this happen?" she added. "Here was a guy that had everything: looks, talent, charisma, leadership qualities, a heart of gold. Why?"
Then there's the shame some people associate with suicide.
When St. Denny walks into her local supermarket, she often feels like she's wearing a scarlet letter. People know how her son died.
"It shouldn't be such a disgrace, where people can't talk about it," she said. "When a person dies by suicide, people often only remember that - how they died, not how they lived. That, I feel, is the saddest part of the loss. . . . This is a very, very difficult road to travel."
None ever expects to solve the mystery she carries with her.
"I believe if there is an answer, we're just not meant to know," Wendy said. "God and I have daily conversations, sometimes daily arguments."
The three survivors talked about suicide, in advance of Crisis Services' annual wine-and-cheese event. The event, "Spotlight on Crisis Services," will be held at 5:30 p.m. June 14 in Delaware Park Casino.
The women stressed that theirs isn't a one-year grieving period, that their pain doesn't lessen after one full cycle of birthdays, holidays and anniversaries.
"We're on a long, difficult journey," Ann Swan said. "I'm like the movie Groundhog Day. Every morning, I get up, and my day is just replayed over and over again. My life is still on hold."
They frequently look for missed signs, for something they should have seen about how troubled their loved one was. Swan can look back now and see episodes of melancholy from her husband, often after he received a promotion or an award. St. Denny looks at old photos of her son, recognizing now that he looked happier before he turned 19.
But that's hindsight. They know now that their loved ones were troubled, even if they didn't give off any obvious signs.
Swan has a metaphor for her husband's situation. She said he took any negatives he had in his life, the type that people normally deal with immediately, and put them on a shelf. Then one day, the shelf broke under the weight of those negatives.
Her husband's death became a national story, during the St. Bonaventure basketball scandal.
Bill Swan had three loves, his wife said: First Niagara Bank, St. Bonaventure and her. Both the bank and their relationship were great. Without the basketball scandal, she suspects he'd still be alive.
But she can't be sure.
"I'm going to go to my grave thinking that the Bonaventure thing may have tipped the scales," she said. "We had no children. Bonaventure was like our child. But I'm a realist, and I know that we'll never know why."
She doesn't blame St. Bonaventure, the institution. She has harsh words only for a few individuals involved in the scandal.
It seems to defy common sense that two successful businessmen and a star athlete would take their lives. Each might be considered "the last person" others think would turn to suicide.
"I think they're high achievers who put a lot of pressure on themselves to be perfect," St. Denny said.
And Bill Swan came home one day and told his wife, "It's lonely at the top."
These women also have trouble understanding why their loved ones, who were so busy doing things for others, would put their families through so much pain. The only answer: They hurt too badly to realize the effect.
"Other people have a heart attack or stroke," Swan said. "Bill had an attack of the brain. I firmly believe that a rational person would not want to leave that amount of pain."
St. Denny has learned from professionals that once a person decides to take his own life, he's at peace with that decision. That's why her son seemed to be in good spirits when he waved to her neighbor just before killing himself.
Hanns left his mother a letter, telling her that he couldn't have had a better mother and that she should be happy for him.
"I'm just lucky that I have a letter," she said. "It helps me feel that it wasn't me. It wasn't something I did."
These women hope their comments can spark some family discussions or teach potential suicides about the pain they would leave.
"I don't want people to forget how he died," Swan said. "If somebody as high-profile as Bill could do this, then anybody can do this."
Ann Swan, left, who lost her husband, Bill, and Susan St. Denny, who lost her son, Jeffrey Hanns, discuss their struggles to cope with their loved one's suicide.
The three women ask themselves the same question over and over again. It's a simple, one-word question. But they've never found the answer, even months or years later.
Why?
Why would their husband or son take his own life?
These were successful men, in different ways, all outgoing people who had set their expectations high and often reached them.
The three women call themselves suicide survivors.
There's Ann Swan, wife of William E. Swan, 55, the successful bank chairman and St. Bonaventure University board chairman who took his life during the school's basketball scandal two years ago.
And Susan St. Denny, whose son, Jeffrey Hanns, 27, a star Lewiston-Porter High School soccer goalie who became an assistant golf pro before taking his life in May 2002.
And a woman named Wendy, who wants to talk about her businessman husband, to help remove some of the stigma that envelops suicide. But other family members aren't ready for his story to be told.
The three women sat around a table inside the Crisis Services office on Main Street, offering views that would challenge the way most people look at suicide.
"If somebody told me Bill had a heart attack, I think I would be in a different place today," Ann Swan said. "I would say it was God's will or a natural way of dying. The fact that he took his life, you always have questions, even though you know you don't have the answers.
"Why did this happen?" she added. "Here was a guy that had everything: looks, talent, charisma, leadership qualities, a heart of gold. Why?"
Then there's the shame some people associate with suicide.
When St. Denny walks into her local supermarket, she often feels like she's wearing a scarlet letter. People know how her son died.
"It shouldn't be such a disgrace, where people can't talk about it," she said. "When a person dies by suicide, people often only remember that - how they died, not how they lived. That, I feel, is the saddest part of the loss. . . . This is a very, very difficult road to travel."
None ever expects to solve the mystery she carries with her.
"I believe if there is an answer, we're just not meant to know," Wendy said. "God and I have daily conversations, sometimes daily arguments."
The three survivors talked about suicide, in advance of Crisis Services' annual wine-and-cheese event. The event, "Spotlight on Crisis Services," will be held at 5:30 p.m. June 14 in Delaware Park Casino.
The women stressed that theirs isn't a one-year grieving period, that their pain doesn't lessen after one full cycle of birthdays, holidays and anniversaries.
"We're on a long, difficult journey," Ann Swan said. "I'm like the movie Groundhog Day. Every morning, I get up, and my day is just replayed over and over again. My life is still on hold."
They frequently look for missed signs, for something they should have seen about how troubled their loved one was. Swan can look back now and see episodes of melancholy from her husband, often after he received a promotion or an award. St. Denny looks at old photos of her son, recognizing now that he looked happier before he turned 19.
But that's hindsight. They know now that their loved ones were troubled, even if they didn't give off any obvious signs.
Swan has a metaphor for her husband's situation. She said he took any negatives he had in his life, the type that people normally deal with immediately, and put them on a shelf. Then one day, the shelf broke under the weight of those negatives.
Her husband's death became a national story, during the St. Bonaventure basketball scandal.
Bill Swan had three loves, his wife said: First Niagara Bank, St. Bonaventure and her. Both the bank and their relationship were great. Without the basketball scandal, she suspects he'd still be alive.
But she can't be sure.
"I'm going to go to my grave thinking that the Bonaventure thing may have tipped the scales," she said. "We had no children. Bonaventure was like our child. But I'm a realist, and I know that we'll never know why."
She doesn't blame St. Bonaventure, the institution. She has harsh words only for a few individuals involved in the scandal.
It seems to defy common sense that two successful businessmen and a star athlete would take their lives. Each might be considered "the last person" others think would turn to suicide.
"I think they're high achievers who put a lot of pressure on themselves to be perfect," St. Denny said.
And Bill Swan came home one day and told his wife, "It's lonely at the top."
These women also have trouble understanding why their loved ones, who were so busy doing things for others, would put their families through so much pain. The only answer: They hurt too badly to realize the effect.
"Other people have a heart attack or stroke," Swan said. "Bill had an attack of the brain. I firmly believe that a rational person would not want to leave that amount of pain."
St. Denny has learned from professionals that once a person decides to take his own life, he's at peace with that decision. That's why her son seemed to be in good spirits when he waved to her neighbor just before killing himself.
Hanns left his mother a letter, telling her that he couldn't have had a better mother and that she should be happy for him.
"I'm just lucky that I have a letter," she said. "It helps me feel that it wasn't me. It wasn't something I did."
These women hope their comments can spark some family discussions or teach potential suicides about the pain they would leave.
"I don't want people to forget how he died," Swan said. "If somebody as high-profile as Bill could do this, then anybody can do this."
