Dozens of St. Bonaventure students, faculty and staff were among the 200 volunteers who assisted with last weekend’s Remote Area Medical (RAM) clinic at the Olean YMCA. The clinic, which provided free medical, dental, and vision care, was sponsored by BonaResponds, Jamestown Community College, the Olean City School District, and the Warming House.

They were joined by representatives from SBU’s School of Business, Nursing, Physician Assistant Studies and Occupational Therapy programs, President’s Council, Franciscan Center for Social Concern, men’s basketball program, and University Ministries.

Behind the numbers are countless stories of hope, healing and connection. In the reflection below, Jim Mahar — BonaResponds founder and longtime champion of service — captures some of those moments and what they reveal about the power of community.

By Jim Mahar

Thank you to all who made the Remote Area Medical clinic a success!  The numbers tell a story – more than 415 people cared for, more than $235,000 of free services provided.

But these numbers are only a part of the story. The numbers fail to tell the stories of the community that the weekend created, such as working with classmates, colleagues and students that you knew in one light but now appreciate in a deeper way.

The numbers fail to tell of the many new friendships and rekindled friendships from years back – the true joy of friends who had worked with BonaResponds after Hurricanes Katrina (2005), Sandy (2012), Helene (2024), and Milton (2024) coming together to help in a mission of alleviating suffering of a different fashion. 

The numbers fail to tell of the true joy of meeting new friends from all walks of life, of the impromptu behavioral finance lessons that sprang up during a lunch break, the thousands of jokes and stories that laid down a foundation of both lasting friendships and the potential for new projects in the months ahead that promise to make the world a better place. 

All the above ways make real the words of St. Francis: “It is in giving that we receive.”  

But even all of those stories, as wonderful as they may be, fail to capture the real reason for the event: to help get free health care to those whose lives can be enriched by it. So, a few more stories are still needed. 

As the numbers show, we had more than 400 patients, but even here, the numbers fail to capture the true enormity of the weekend. A number cannot speak the story of the patient who was living with such pain that he needed 11 teeth extracted, another who was consuming almost 7,000 mg of over-the-counter painkillers a day (30 typical ibuprofen tablets) because his teeth hurt so much, the patient who had not received any health care in 12 years, and the person whose likely cancer was identified earlier than it would have been without the clinic.  

But I want to end with a story of a person I spoke to that is so haunting that I don’t even want to divulge the gender of the teller. It is a painful story of what happens when we, as a society, forget those people at the margins and let them suffer.  

I will call the person Pat. (Not his or her real name.)

Pat arrived early on Saturday before we opened. Quiet to the point of “should I even try to talk to them,” Pat looked scared of what was ahead. But talk we did. I learned Pat was well-educated and had had a successful career. Pat was born in the USA but had lived in several countries. However, Pat had had some bad years that led to a trade of hope and confidence for anxiety and depression. 

The result of the trade, coupled with the changing economics of today’s world, led to uncertainty, joblessness, and the literal and figurative withdrawing into a cocoon of self-doubt and despair.  To the point where Pat told me: “I wasn't even going to come to this. I didn't think I deserved it.  I just wanted my life to end. No one would care. No one would even know. I have no family here. I have no friends. What difference would it be to anyone.” 

Pat was helped at the clinic in many ways, but most notably in vision. The Pat who returned home from the clinic was a much different version of the person who had arrived 12 hours before.  

The new Pat could see better through the new glasses but could also see a better future. Pat spoke of applying for jobs, or helping on future projects, and of it being so wonderful to know that people cared and didn’t just see past failures but also of inherent goodness.  

 The community table had gotten a bit larger as Pat was welcomed to join. 

That was just one story the weekend stats cannot capture – the story I hope you carry forward and weave into your daily lives.

Jim Mahar is the founder of BonaResponds and an associate professor of Finance at St. Bonaventure University.