Longtime city police chaplain mourned

In the Andes Mountains, half a world and seemingly a century removed from his South Boston upbringing, William Francis lived near the Peruvian Indian city of Cuzco in the 1960s, ministering to about 40 missions where his parishioners lived beyond passable dirt roads.

''The only way to reach them was on horseback," he said in a 1966 Globe interview. ''And as an old Southie man, the only horse I had ever seen before was a milk horse."

Monsignor William Cushing Francis, who was best known in Boston as the longtime chaplain of the city Police Department, died in his sleep early Monday at Marian Manor nursing home, not far from where he said his first Mass at St. Monica's 48 years ago. He was 73.

Though he spent 27 years as chaplain, marrying police officers, baptizing their children, and sitting with families when a loved one died in the line of duty, his vocation had also called him to parishes in the Archdiocese of Boston, to the immigrant community, and to Boston's homeless.

His middle name was a reminder of his spiritual heritage among Catholics in Boston. His uncle was Richard Cardinal Cushing, who ordained him at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in 1958. Monsignor Francis, who had graduated from Boston College High School and St. John Seminary, began as a parish priest at St. Rose of Lima in Chelsea, but within a few years volunteered to work for the Society of St. James the Apostle, the missionary order founded by his uncle.

While Cushing was his inspiration for the priesthood, ''having your uncle as the archbishop probably caused him more grief at the seminary than anything else," said the Rev. Sean Connor, a priest assigned to the chancery who was a close friend and had visited Monsignor Francis regularly over the past three years since he had broken his neck and become partially paralyzed.

The Rev. John Connolly, the rector of the Cathedral of the Holy Cross who was also a close friend, said the missionary work was, in a sense, the archdiocese's answer to the Peace Corps, created in the administration of President John F. Kennedy. Monsignor Francis, he said, was responding to twin calls.

''As a son of South Boston, he was answering the call of his uncle and the guy from Massachusetts who was the president of the United States," Connolly said.

Upon returning to Boston in the early 1970s after working in Peru for a decade, Monsignor Francis spent two years recruiting for the St. James Society, then was assigned to El Centro del Cardenal, the Spanish center. Later, he became pastor of St. Paul in Dorchester, overseeing the change when that church and St. Kevin combined in the 1990s to form Holy Family Parish.

While at St. Paul, he opened the basement to create a shelter for homeless women.

''It didn't matter who you were, if you were a corporate executive or homeless on the street, he treated you the same way," said Richard Wells, Milton deputy police chief.

Lyndie Downie, who runs Pine Street Inn, said Monsignor Francis was involved in diversity issues long before they were part of the public dialogue. ''He was always looking out for people who didn't have much, or didn't have anything at all," she said.

Even at Marian Manor he could be found working the phones in his room, trying to improve life for others, Downie said, adding, ''He was the only person I ever heard speak Spanish with a Dorchester accent."

In 1978, Monsignor Francis was appointed Boston police chaplain and served until retiring last year. ''I always described him as a priest who lived in the real world," said Police Commissioner Kathleen M. O'Toole. ''He understood the police and their culture."

On Christmas Eve in 2003, not long after being injured, Monsignor Francis planned to celebrate Mass for his friends at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital. When a nurse told him none was planned for the other patients, he opened the Mass to everyone.

With Connor and Connolly at his side, holding up the Communion bread and wine because he could not, Monsignor Francis gave a homily to a room of people who had suffered life-changing injuries. ''No other priest would have been able to speak with words that would have connected with them so well," Connolly said.

Monsignor Francis, who had spent much of his priesthood caring for police officers and helping Boston's immigrant communities, found himself at the end cared for by visiting officers and immigrants who worked at Marian Manor.

''He would often say, 'I have a deeper understanding of the priesthood because of my own suffering,' " Connor said.

O'Toole visited him Sunday morning, when he was attending his final Mass. As they returned to his hallway, they heard the television blaring the Irish song ''The Wild Rover," and the two joined in. Moments later, as she was leaving, she looked back to see Monsignor Francis in his motorized wheelchair, grinning broadly.

''As sad as I was hearing the news, that will always be my memory of him," O'Toole said.

Monsignor Francis's brother was the late Richard J. Francis. He leaves a sister-in-law, Ruth Francis of Stoughton, and nieces and nephews, and he will lie in state at Holy Family today from 3 to 8 p.m.

A funeral Mass will be said tomorrow at 10:30 a.m. at Holy Family. Burial will be in St. Joseph Cemetery in West Roxbury.