Shannon Bell became a millionaire the day she was born. As an heir to the Bell Laboratories fortune, she inherited stock valued at just over $50 million. Her 7th-great-grandfather was Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the first telephone and co-founder of the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, now known as AT&T. She was not born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth. Hers was pure gold.

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Her parents were John and Alice Bell. They had five children. Shannon was the middle child. They lived on a thirty-acre estate just outside the city limits of Baltimore in Howard County. Her father was an executive with Nokia Bell Labs. Her mother raised and trained horses on their equestrian estate. Shannon was riding as soon as she was out of diapers. She attended the prestigious Bryn Mawr Academy in Baltimore from pre-school to 12th grade.

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Shannon was not an exceptional student. She found herself preoccupied with two things: athletics and boys. She was a star on her school’s soccer team. Leading scorer in basketball and an excellent equestrian, particularly in the English class of hunter jumpers. Although she attended an all-girls school, boys flocked to her like moths to a flame. She quite literally had her pick. She first chose a boy named Derek. Their relationship ended after one year. The second boy lasted six months. The third a little over 30 days. It was evident she was not made for romance, which was fine with her. As long as she had her horses, she was content.

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Early on, she learned the value of public service. This virtue was instilled in her by both her mother and father. Each Thanksgiving, they did not sit down as a family to a lavish turkey dinner. Instead, they served meals to the less fortunate and needy at The Franciscan Center on Maryland Ave. in Baltimore. When she was old enough, she spent Christmas afternoons delivering toys to underprivileged children through the group known as H.O.P.E., Inc. (Helping People Through Empowerment), also located in downtown Baltimore. Her father told her, “The price of being wealthy is living a life of service.” It was a lesson she never forgot.

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All four of Shannon’s siblings were carving names for themselves in either athletics, academics, or both. They were popular students. One of her older brothers went on to become a star running back at Notre Dame. An older sister, Barbara, entered George Washington University and quickly became a noted freelance photojournalist. Shannon idolized her both as a sister and an independent, accomplished woman. One brother was a star basketball player, and the other was active in theater.

 

​Despite her average grades in high school, she was admitted to New York University (NYU). She owed her acceptance to two factors: her father’s influence as an alumnus and her ACT score of 34. The latter demonstrated that she was very bright but lacked dedication to her studies. Much to her father’s delight, she obtained a degree in economics and business. He was certain she would enter the family business. She did not. Instead, she applied and was accepted at Stanford, where she studied law. Her father still held out hope that she would join the legal staff at Nokia Bell. She did not. Instead, she moved to New York and joined the prestigious firm of Watkins and Wardell. While she inherited and developed many admirable traits, cooking was not one of them. She, like her mother, could burn Campbell’s Soup. They had a live-in cook.

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Shannon thrived in her new environment. She entered as an Associate along with a half-dozen others, but established herself as a valuable asset in billing hours while developing an illustrious book of business. She proved to be especially talented in managing complex transactions or detailed litigation. In her third year, she was promoted to senior associate counsel. In over 90 years of business, no one had ever been promoted that quickly. She was the apparent golden child. She got the attention of an Equity Partner in the firm, and they began dating. Within a year, they moved in together. Everything seemed to be turning up roses for Shannon. Except one thing: she was growing disenchanted, not with the law but with her law firm. The bottom line was king. Whatever benefited Watkins and Wardell financially was the sole purpose, not only in their work but in their lives. She felt trapped.

It was midweek, during her lunch break, when Shannon got the phone call that changed everything. It was her mother.  Shannon’s sister Barbara was on assignment in Myanmar to document the ongoing civil war between the Karen National Union and the central government. Barbara was killed by what they called “friendly fire.” Shannon was devastated.

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Now her growing antipathy for her law firm blossomed into a general malaise. She felt suddenly unrooted, drifting in a sea of doubt. What was her purpose in life? Was it to make Partner at her firm? Senior Partner? Equity Partner? Was it all about building a portfolio of rich and famous clients? Dinners at Masa? Weekends at the Hamptons? Dates to the Met?

Surely there was more to life.

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By chance, one day she stumbled across an article in the New York Times. It was about a church in Boston and, in particular, a priest who happened upon a liquor store robbery. The thief shot first at the priest, who returned fire, killing the suspect. The priest’s name was Father Michael Shaw. Shannon was intrigued. A priest who carried a bible and a gun. She became more interested. She collected as many articles as she could about this man, discovering that he had championed a litany of charitable causes in the rough-and-tumble streets of Mattapan. Michael was something of a local hero for activities other than shooting someone. The more she read about this local hero, the more transfixed she became. Here was someone who had a purpose in life and was living out the true meaning of public service.

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And so, she resigned from her job at the law firm, said goodbye to her boyfriend, and headed for Boston. She had no idea what lay before her, but one thing was certain: She was going to work for and with the Catholic knight in shining armor, Father Michael Shaw.