"I'm amazed she's a Sister of Mercy. I wouldn't have guessed it if I'd just met her." -- Nuala Pell.

NEWPORT -- Gilded Age mansions and sea air wafting over well-kept lawns are not customary for a college campus.

Ochre Court, a 50-room limestone palace with gargoyles, a ballroom and sweeping ocean views, was designed by America's leading architect of the late 19th century, Richard Morris Hunt. The estate was the summer cottage of a wealthy financier and yachtsman, and required 27 servants, 12 gardeners and 8 grooms and coachmen during Newport's summer season.

It seems an unlikely place for either nuns or students.

Yet Ochre Court is the heart of Salve Regina University, a small, Catholic institution nestled along the Cliff Walk.

The 58-year-old university has undergone a transformation in the past decade designed to exploit its unique setting, improve its academics and increase its endowment.

At the same time, the university strives to preserve the heritage of its founders, the Sisters of Mercy, an order of Catholic nuns that espouses service to the poor, social justice, compassion and hospitality.

At the center of these changes is Sister Therese Antone, an alumna and Rhode Island native who has been connected to the university for most of its history, the past 11 years as its president.

At age 66, Sister Therese walks a mile and a half to the supermarket to buy groceries, does her own cooking and lifts weights alongside undergraduates at Salve Regina's recreation center. A modest yet fiercely competitive leader, she is an avid golfer with memberships at several country clubs and a savvy fundraiser who mingles easily with luminaries. Photographs of Sister Therese with former President Bill Clinton and Nobel Peace Prize winner Elie Wiesel are displayed in her living room.

"I'm amazed she's a Sister of Mercy. I wouldn't have guessed it if I'd just met her," said Nuala Pell, wife of former U.S. Sen. Claiborne Pell and a Salve Regina trustee. "I can see her as a senator."

IN THE PAST DECADE, Salve Regina's national rankings and student profile have risen and its endowment has grown from $1 million to $36 million. The university has spent $76 million on renovations and expansions, and has received numerous awards for restoring the historic mansions, cottages and gatehouses on its campus.

Sister Therese was instrumental in pushing for Congress to establish the Pell Center for International Relations and Public Policy in 1996 at Salve Regina, a move that has brought high-profile leaders to the campus and enhanced the university's reputation.

"The university is not what it was. The quality has shot way up," said James Hersh, a philosophy professor who has taught at Salve Regina for 35 years, and who helped develop a new core curriculum that rolled out three years ago. "There's more collegiality among the faculty, the students are more competitive, and the Pell Center has given the university a prestige and a standing it didn't have before."

Sister Therese is credited with smoothing sometimes-strained relations between the university and the city of Newport by working closely with local historic preservation associations, expanding community service projects by students and making payments in lieu of taxes on property the university has purchased in recent years.

But potential tensions remain over future expansion, such as Sister Therese's desire to build a chapel on campus, and the university's tax-exempt status in a city with a high poverty rate.

Salve Regina is struggling to attract more male students, a nationwide problem that is more pronounced at an institution that was all-women until 1973 and has been known primarily as a teaching and nursing college.

Still, the president has succeeded in forging key alliances with influential people who now serve Salve Regina as advisers and trustees, hoping that the relationships she has built will help guide and support the university in the future.

Sister Therese says the university has entered its second phase. "Success breeds success," she said. "We have to know we are at the beginning of the future of the institution. The first 50 years were about putting in place academic excellence and the traditions of the school. The next 50 years are about building up and expanding those things."

Two things are needed to accomplish this goal, she says, money and good management.

SALVE REGINA COLLEGE opened in 1947 to 58 female students. Its only facility was Ochre Court, which was donated to the Sisters of Mercy by New York banker and real estate developer Robert Goelet.

The eight faculty members were nuns who lived in the mansion's servants quarters. Students lived on the third floor, attended classes on the second floor, and studied and ate on the first floor.

Over the decades, the college was given or purchased surrounding estates, expanding to 75 acres and absorbing 6 other mansions.

Today, enrollment is at its peak, at 2,000 undergraduates and 500 graduate students, and tuition, room and board cost $33,000 a year. Administrators say the university will not grow larger, but they do hope the academic programs and facilities will continue to improve.

Nuala Pell, a longtime resident of Newport, describes herself as a convert -- both to the value of Salve Regina and the leadership of its president.

"You know, Salve had the reputation of a sort of mediocre college that was taking up land that should be on the tax rolls, and I think Sister [Therese] has really dispelled that," she said. "Salve didn't impress me either, in the beginning. I've grown increasingly impressed."

THERESE ANTONE was born in Central Falls on May 22, 1939, the third of seven children born to Florence Smith Antone and George Antone, a cobbler.

The family moved to Cumberland when Therese was in elementary school. She worked odd jobs throughout high school, including two summers at the toy company Hasbro, where she was offered a supervisor's job if she quit school.

School came easily to Therese and her father encouraged his daughter to become a teacher. By the time she was 17, she wanted to become a nun and entered the novitiate at Mount Saint Rita in Cumberland after graduating from Cumberland High School.

Her decision surprised her family. Therese was known to be stubborn and vivacious, someone who loved to have fun, says her elder brother George Antone. The family missed her when she entered religious life, as visits were not allowed. But they supported her decision.

While devout, the young nun chafed under the rigid rules and cloistered life of the convent. Once after Sister Therese got in trouble with the mother superior, she was told that if she didn't shape up, she would be sent back to the novitiate to learn to obey.

"But I said that according to canon law, they couldn't do that, because I'd already taken orders," Sister Therese said. "I was kind of a smart alec."

Her independent streak has served her well. Sister Therese says she long ago adjusted to being, at times, the only woman in a room full of powerful men. Several years ago, she shared a laugh with Hasbro's then-CEO, Alan Hassenfeld, over the job offer she had turned down decades earlier. "Perhaps I wouldn't have the job I have now, and you wouldn't have the job you have now, if I had made a different decision," she joked.

She remains close to her family. Four of her six siblings are still living. Her parents died a few years after her inauguration in 1994.

Sister Therese says her background keeps her centered, even as she befriends senators in Washington socializes with Newport's Bellevue Avenue set or welcomes famous visitors to campus such as the Dalai Lama, Tibet's exiled spiritual leader.

"I try never to forget where I came from or become dependent on the benefits of the office," she said. "I was born in Central Falls and my father was a cobbler."

AFTER STUDYING MATH for two years at the convent and spending an additional year in spiritual training, Sister Therese Antone came to Salve Regina in 1960 to finish her undergraduate degree. With her came Sister Leona Misto, another young nun majoring in math.

The two traveled by bus each day from St. Mary's Academy in East Providence, where they both lived, to the campus in Newport. They did their homework together during the commute. Although Sisters of Mercy took a vow of silence, speaking was permitted in the classroom and to perform tasks such as homework.

"That's how we got to be friends," Sister Leona said. "We had to work together to get through the math."

The friendship stuck. They both worked at Bishop Feehan High School in Attleboro for a few years, before Sister Therese became a director for the Sisters of Mercy, overseeing schools and hospitals locally and in Central Amercia. She kept in touch with her alma mater and served as a college trustee.

Along the way, she earned a master's in math from Villanova University, a Ph.D. in education from Harvard University and completed a senior executive program at MIT's Sloan School of Management.

During this time, inspired by the reforms of Vatican II, the Sisters of Mercy relaxed their rules requiring silence, the wearing of the habit and a cloistered life.

"It was quite a change for us, to go from silence and habits, but it was more of our calling to be with people and respond to the needs of our time," Sister Therese said.

IN 1976, SISTER Therese returned to Salve Regina as the college's first executive vice president for corporate affairs and advancement.

The college, then just 29 years old, didn't have an endowment or strong alumni relations.

"I looked around and thought, 'What can we do to bring people to this beautiful location and let people know we were doing a good job and raise a few dollars at the same time,' " Sister Therese said. "I had the idea of a ball because Ochre Court was built for parties."

In 1977, the college hosted its first Governor's Ball. Over the years, $2 million for scholarships has been raised by the event, considered a highlight of Rhode Island's social season.

"Salve's graduates were relatively young and many went into service professions, like teaching and nursing," said Michael Semenza, current vice president for institutional advancement. "We didn't have people in the boardroom, so Sister started the Governor's Ball and adopted them."

BY THE TIME Sister Therese became president in 1994, Salve Regina, now a university, faced financial problems. The new president wanted to improve the university's academics, facilities and financial future.

One of her first tasks was to make budget cuts and eliminate jobs.

"I knew that in the interest of the students and the institutions, some significant changes needed to be made," said Sister Therese. "But the budget cutbacks resulted in the loss of jobs for people. It was very difficult to do, but I had to do it."

Sister Therese toughened Salve Regina's admissions standards. It meant smaller classes for several years and less revenue.

Gradually, SAT scores of incoming freshmen rose, as did the number of applications. This year's entering class is the most selective so far, with an average combined SAT score of 1082, up from 953 a decade ago, according to university officials. In addition, of the 569 freshmen, a third of them ranked in the top fifth of their high school classes.

Sister Therese also began an aggressive program to restore and renovate many of the historic properties on campus.

"From the time I was a student, I was interested in these buildings," she said. "It bothered me that they were falling into disrepair." For its efforts, the university received several awards, including the prestigious White House Millennium Council and National Trust Preservation's Save America's Treasures Program in 2000.

The university also launched a new major in cultural and historic preservation, which combines architectural history, archeology and preservation planning.

"We knew we were in a living laboratory," said James Garmond, an archeologist and anthropologist who runs the program. "Sister Therese was keen on using the campus throughout our discipline."

The program will soon have a new home in Wetmore, the former stables of Chateau-sur-Mer, the grand estate built on Bellevue Avenue for a China trade merchant in the mid-1800s. The university is raising $6 million to convert the 15,000-square-foot building into art studios, historic preservation labs and classrooms.

SALVE REGINA students seem to know their president, in part because of Sister Therese's propensity to pop into the cafeteria for a quick salad or arrive unannounced at student government meetings.

"Everybody definitely knows her name," said Robert Pesapane, a senior from Connecticut majoring in politics and economics, who said he chose Salve Regina for two reasons: its low faculty-student ratio -- one professor for every 15 students -- and its location.

Salve Regina's close-knit community has benefits and drawbacks, said Pesapane. On the one hand, he has made close friends and relishes the one-on-one contact with faculty. He also said that Salve Regina gender imbalance -- 72 percent female -- does not bother him. Administrators say they'd like to increase the percentage of men to 35 percent.

On the other hand, Pesapane said while he enjoyed living in mansions, he found dorm life constricting. Like 40 percent of Salve Regina's students, he now lives off campus.

"Salve is a controlled environment," Pesapane said. "There are more R.A.s [resident assistants] per student than at other schools, and it sometimes reminded me of being at home. Someone once told me I should be in bed when I was roaming the halls late at night. At times it was stricter than my parents."

Nursing and education programs remain popular, and graduate programs in justice, humanities and liberal arts are growing, as are undergraduate business majors.

While Salve Regina's students come from 34 states and 15 countries, the majority are from 5 states: Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New Jersey and New York.

The university's graduation rate has increased in recent years, from 54.5 percent in 2003 to 60.5 percent in 2004.

Katie Harrington, a senior from Massachusetts majoring in Spanish and secondary education, did not want to come to Salve Regina at first, and agreed only after she did not get into some better-known Catholic colleges, including Providence College.

Her first week at the university changed her mind, and now she gives tours of the campus to prospective students.

"I was kicking and screaming when I came here four years ago, and now I am kicking and screaming because I don't want to leave," Harrington said. "I think a lot of people used to have this mentality that Salve is a pushover school, and it absolutely is not. I can see the high school juniors and seniors who visit now are thinking differently about Salve."

SOME COMMUNITY LEADERS in Newport have also altered their opinion of Salve Regina. The university has mounted a vigorous public relations effort that highlights all they offer the city.

Jeanne-Marie Napolitano, a longtime City Council member, said the effort has paid off.

"When I first came on the council in the early 1990s, there was a bit of a search from taxpayers to get more money from Salve, and there was some resentment there," Napolitano said. "But through the years, the relationship has improved tremendously." Occasional conflicts arise, particularly in neighborhoods with high concentrations of college students. Salve Regina has earned praise for being responsive to complaints, Napolitano said.

Nonetheless, the university benefits from its tax-exempt status. With properties assessed at $100 million as of 2001, Salve Regina would have to pay about $1.7 million in property taxes each year, according to estimates by the Newport Tax Assessor's office. Instead, the university pays about $209,000 a year on properties it has bought or leased since 1997. Newport also receives $360,000 a year from a state program that gives money to municipalities with nonprofits.

Sister Therese has also strengthened relations with Salve Regina's wealthy neighbors. The university's willingness to work with local planning and historic boards to ensure that new facilities such as McKillop Library and the Rodgers Recreation Center fit aesthetically in the area has helped to allay neighbors' fears, said Peter Damon, former president of the Bank of Newport and a member of Sister Therese's presidential advisory committee.

"With an eye to the community, the recent buildings are extraordinary examples of sensitivity to the environment, and they are really appreciated," Damon said. "Sister Therese has built a very progressive relationship with the neighbors and now they are not just cheerleaders for the university -- they are contributors."

THE PELL CENTER is among Sister Therese's biggest accomplishments.

She says the idea came to her when Senator Pell announced he would retire about a decade ago.

"I thought, my goodness, we should have something here at the university to honor him and all he has done for education, international relations and the humanities," she said.

It took several trips to Washington to convince the senator.

"I just kept at it," she said. "I kept talking about what I saw as the mission of the center, how important it was to instill dedication to public service in young people, and how the presence of a center at a university would expose them to world politics and issues."

When the senator finally agreed, Sister Therese began lobbying the Rhode Island delegation and other key lawmakers for the money. Congress established the Pell Center in 1996, giving Salve Regina two grants totalling $4.5 million.

"I asked for $10 million," she said with a laugh.

SISTER THERESE says she has no plans to retire in the near future. She wants to push the endowment beyond $50 million and strengthen the university's study abroad programs and international connections.

She hopes to build a chapel and continue to restore the mansions, gatehouses and carriage houses. She wants Salve Regina's student body to become more ethnically and economically diverse.

"Someone once told me the day you assume the position, you should start thinking about [retirement], so you don't spend too long on the train," she said. "I'm still on the train, and it seems to be going at a pretty good speed."

She plans to keep working even after she leaves Salve Regina, perhaps as the head of a charitable foundation.

"So I could give money away, and not ask for it," she said.

 

Staff writer Jennifer Jordan can be reached at: jjordan@projo.com