C. Patrick O'Donnell Jr

In one of his many notebooks, he left this instruction for his grandchildren: "Be kind and relieve the suffering of others." It was both his philosophy and his practice-a man who embodied curiosity about the world and genuine care for the people in it. Patrick O'Donnell died at home in Brookline, June 18 after facing a long illness with characteristic grace and dignity. He was 79. Those who knew him understood that he approached life as both scholar and adventurer. He could discuss the intricacies of Spenser's Faerie Queene-which he co-edited for Penguin during his time on Princeton's English faculty-then head to Mount McKinley to lead mountaineering expeditions. On one such climb, his team executed a daring, record-setting high-altitude rescue of a climber with a broken femur they encountered on the mountain. His career path reflected an insatiable intellectual appetite. From night police reporter at The Charlotte Observer to covering Detroit's auto industry for The Wall Street Journal, then Alaska and the Northwest from San Francisco, he gathered stories and understanding wherever he went. Wall Street called next, where his analytical mind earned recognition from Institutional Investor twice over. "The market made me look smart, so they made me the boss," he would say with characteristic humility while building international equity research departments for Prudential Bache and later Putnam Investments. But numbers and analysis were just one facet of a remarkably multifaceted man. He was an accomplished poet who completed his final work in the days before illness overtook him. He designed and built houses, restored precious New Hampshire forest land, and became an expert in domains that delighted him: fine tea, Japanese scrolls and pottery, rare books, and yes, French socks. His friends learned to expect the unexpected-a discourse on Homer's Odyssey ("my book," he called it, discovered as a classics major at Harvard) followed by detailed knowledge about competitive sporting clays or the nuances of fly fishing. When facing difficult decisions, he would write out his thoughts in detail, finding confidence through the powerful forced clarity of the written word. In his notebooks, the family found a question he posed to himself when pondering choice "Does the decision lead to an increase of faith, hope and love?" His handwritten notes became legendary among friends and colleagues-prolifically sent across space and time, maintaining connections in an increasingly digital world. His unmistakable script itself was a gift, a tangible reminder that someone was thinking of you specifically. He treasured good conversation, including the listening part, and loved feeding friends during hours of what those who knew him describe as both cheerful and deep dialogue. For thirty years, New Hampshire was home, where he served on numerous boards including The Nature Conservancy, The Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests, and the state retirement system's investment committee. He was a devoted trustee at Iona University. In Exeter, he advised the student radio station at Phillips Exeter Academy, helping students build a station that won two successive Marconi awards. In Boston, his involvement with The Harvard Musical Association, The Boston Cecilia, and other cultural institutions reflected his belief that beauty and learning were community responsibilities. He was equally at home on the water, sailing to Newfoundland and competing in two Marion/Bermuda races, as he was in the reading rooms of The Boston Athenaeum, where he was a proprietor, or among the book lovers at his beloved Club of Odd Volumes. Perhaps most telling was the long list of unfinished essay topics found among his papers-a testament to a mind that never stopped wondering, never ceased finding new questions worth exploring. His unwavering desire to understand how the universe and its people work gave others countless paths to run down happily with him. Born in Cleveland to Mary Rita Monroe O'Donnell and Charles P. O'Donnell, he was educated at St. Ignatius High School, graduated from Harvard, and earned his PhD from Princeton. For 43 years, he found strength and purpose in a worldwide fellowship that, as he would say, saved his life every day. He was devoted to Kendra, his wife of 46 years, to his family, to his wide circle of friends, and to the simple daily practice of making connections with genuine curiosity and without prejudice. Only in death, joining God, has he finally found all the answers he spent a lifetime seeking. He is survived by his son Christopher (Emily Martin), stepson Kendall Hamilton (Victoria Vitrano), and grandchildren Caleb Patrick, Annabelle Lillian, William, and Turner Hamilton. Visiting hours will be held in St. Mary of the Assumption church, 5 Linden Place, Brookline on Wednesday from 3-6 PM. Funeral mass will be celebrated in the church on Thursday morning at 11 AM. Interment private. In lieu of flowers, the family suggests acts of kindness toward others-the sort of small gestures Patrick believed could relieve suffering and make the world a little better.