If a ship had not run aground on a reef, one of Bill Furgueson’s ancestors never would have arrived at Fire Island. However, as the family story has it, Bill made it to shore and to a community with the kind of name which could make a realtor looking for a quick sale shudder: Lonelyville.

Bill, who will be going to Lonelyville for his own vacation, has just been named the new executive director of A Little Compassion, the organization which runs The Nest Coffee House in Deep River. Jane Moen, the founder of A Little Compassion, recently retired as its executive director.

Located on Main Street in Deep River, The Nest provides job training and work experience for the neurodiverse population with the goal of training young adults to participate in the workforce.

It is also intended to be a place where, through regular social gatherings, neurodiverse people have a chance to not only socialize with one another, but also with the wider population, enabling more people to become aware of their talents and gifts. Everyone is welcome at The Nest’s gatherings, which include activities from cooking classes to game nights.

Today, The Nest has also grown to include a boutique of gift items created by neurodiverse consignors and is also making healthy dog treats called Doggie Barks, which it sells at both the coffee shop and wholesale to veterinarians’ offices. The Doggie Barks are made by collecting spent grains from local breweries and mixing them with things like peanut butter and pumpkin.

While Bill is new to his position with The Nest, he has plenty of experience in working with the neurodiverse. Bill was the chief marketing and development officer for three years at The Arc Eastern Connecticut, an organization which deals with a similar population. Before that, he did marketing and fundraising at the Mystic Museum of Art.

Bill’s efforts in promoting the Mystic area led to his recognition as the Tourism Leader of the Year from the Chamber of Commerce of Eastern Connecticut in 2019.

Bill did not start out in the fields of marketing and development. He taught history, geography, and government at The Williams School in New London for over 20 years. He also began working with the school’s development office and in alumni relations.

In Deep River, Bill quickly saw a reminder of his days at The Williams School when a former student greeted him while walking down the street.

Wherever he has worked, whatever he has done, Bill’s wardrobe has always featured a workday constant: a tie.

“I know its old-school professional, but how you dress is a part of how you act. It’s how you represent the organization,” says Bill.

However, when he recently met with a reporter, Bill had on a vest, but no tie.

“It’s my day off,” he explained.

Bill grew up in Islip, Long Island, where he says it is a bit of ancestral lore that a notable forebear was William Floyd, the only signer of the Declaration of Independence from Suffolk County, New York. However, Bill adds that the story is “family legend, folklore, and I could not tell how he is related to me, and he is many, many generations back.”

Bill has been sailing since he was a child, most often racing in small boats. In fact, he chose to attend Connecticut College because he knew he would have sailing opportunities.

In college, Bill covered distance on the water, but there was one way he did not cover distance—in a car. He didn’t get a driver’s license until he was 21. Bill actually decided to do his student teaching at The Williams School because he could walk there with it being on the Connecticut College campus.

Bill has coached sailing at The Williams School and at Mitchell College in New London. When his daughter Emma was a child, Bill told her bedtime stories about a sailboat named Samantha which were about not only sailing, but as Bill explains it, “life-teaching moments.” He self-published the stories as a book with Emma as an author in 2010 when she was 10. Emma is now 24, and Bill’s son Quinn is 22.

The sea is very much a part of Bill’s life.

“I’m a sailor, a beach guy,” he says.

Bill, who lives in Mystic, likes to go down to the shore to relax on a summer evening after work.

“It’s peace,” he explains. “I listen to the ocean, watch the water. It’s a great way to get a good night’s sleep.”

Bill has another edge in getting a good night’s sleep, but it is something rather unusual for the executive director of a group which runs a coffee shop. He has never had a cup of coffee. Not once, not ever. Bill says that his mother did not want him to have any caffeine.

“I guess my mother—she was a nurse—thought I was such an active kid anyway,” Bill says.

Now that he is at The Nest, Bill thinks that he might try a cup of coffee one day.

“Maybe on a cold winter morning,” he says.