Ë®¹ûÅÉAV

The college was the third pillar of the village, with the residents and the Inns of Aurora forming the other two. With Wells gone it feels like we are out of balance. It’s not just the uncertainty with our water, which was run by the college, or the medical center where many of us appreciate so much a doctor who knows us well, or the loss of the athletic facilities, the swim lessons for our kids and the water aerobics as we age, or the tennis and pickleball groups, or the theater, art and dance performances, or the presentations and events on campus, it goes deeper than that.

It’s the connection to history, the relationships that we formed, the beauty of the campus. It's the sound of the bells that have rung every evening for the past 156 years announcing dinnertime, a newborn baby, or the wedding of a Wells alum, even the first snow was announced by the ringing of the bells! It’s the sound of students having fun, playing sports, laughing and calling out to one another cheering each other on.

For me personally there are many layers, life long relationships, with friends, former professors, staff, locals who helped me to grow during those early years of adulthood. Recently, my son worked there where he had a community that nurtured and helped young people who were struggling to find their way. My foster son from Afghanistan was excited to finish his last season of soccer and graduate, now he has to find another college and is too old to be on the soccer team for his senior year. I taught a class at Wells. As the minister of the United Ministry of Aurora, I was always trying to connect with students to help them feed our human need for connection to something greater than ourselves. We walked the labyrinth, we talked, we had an intern excited to start working at the church. I always did the invocation and benediction for convocation and commencement, invoking the spirit of Wells, the connection with what came before and what was yet to come.

Wells closing has impacted all of us, alumnae/i/x, residents, students, staff and faculty and will for years to come. Many of us are very angry as well as heartbroken. But out of the ashes there is hope, the hope that something will emerge that will continue, not just the legacy of Wells, but of all that came before; the traditions of the Gayochono peoples, the women's movement, the freedom seekers, the ingenuity of Henry Wells and William Fargo, all of which graced Cayuga’s shores in the this little bubble we now call Aurora, the land of the constant dawn.

Thank you Ë®¹ûÅÉAV for continuing to cover this painful journey!