The educational legacy of Wells
The IU Home Pages asked Jim Capshew, the major biographer of IU legend Herman B Wells, about the Wells' educational legacy. Below are his responses. Capshew's forthcoming biography of Wells is due in 2010.
Q: William Lowe Bryan, who served as president of Indiana University from 1902 to 1937, certainly set the stage for higher education in the state at the turn of the 20th century. Is it safe to say that Herman B Wells' administration (1937-1962) was so synchronized to transforming world events -- world war, the atom bomb, devastated countries, returning military, the Cold War, Sputnik, the National Defense Education Act -- that Wells, an iconic university figure of the 20th century, was the right man at the right time?
Chris Meyer
Jim Capshew with the Herman B Wells bust in the Wells Library on the IU Bloomington campus.
A: In a word, yes. Wells was the right man at the right time. But remember, his work in reforming the Indiana banking system in the 1930s allowed him first-hand experience in public service. He developed his managerial skills, long-range vision and exquisite sense of timing during his service as an administrator for the Department of Financial Institutions under Gov. Paul V. McNutt. As an ethical agent of the state, he transferred that profound sense of duty to Indiana University as he exercised leadership in the presidency and beyond.
Q: As Wells biographer and as one who knew him well while you were in your college years and through to his death in 2000, how would you assess Wells' legacy in terms of setting the stage for the great university it is in the 21st century?
A: I can't even begin to answer that question in the space allotted, because he put his imprint on almost every aspect of its operation. But his greatest legacy, I believe, is found in his passionate devotion to people and his unquenchable love for Indiana University. Spirit, he thought, was the essential element for educational achievement. Unquantifiable yet unmistakably real, a university's spirit, located in a material place called the campus, resided in the hearts of those devoted to its welfare. "With the right spirit, the right atmosphere, the right ambience, nearly all things become possible in the learning process, which is the central purpose of a university," Wells wrote in Being Lucky.
Q: Following Wells' inauguration in 1938, Reader's Digest referred to Wells as "the dynamo of Indiana culture, the man who is striving to bring culture to the crossroads." Seventy years later, I don't think anyone would dispute that he succeeded in living up to that role. Would you speculate on what may have been Wells' finest achievement or what he might name as his proudest achievement?
A: Over the long term, I think Wells will be remembered as an educational visionary who was a pragmatic steward of the Hoosier state's flagship university. He was an unparalleled cultural entrepreneur. By that I mean he was able to increase the artistic and cultural opportunities in Bloomington, by hiring, for instance, Dean Wilfred Bain in the Music School and turning him loose to develop an opera program. Or by acquiring the Thomas Hart Benton murals and marrying them to a magnificent auditorium. Or by nurturing the Lilly Library or the IU Art Museum. That "dynamo" also carried culture, under the IU banner, to the steel towns of the Calumet region and to the small hamlets of southern Indiana, and most places in between.
For Wells personally, I like to think that he might have chosen his beloved Fine Arts Plaza as his most noteworthy monument. With the IU Auditorium as anchor (the first building constructed during his presidential administration), the area took shape gradually, with the Fine Arts Building, the Lilly Library and the Showalter Fountain added during the ensuing years. The striking IU Art Museum, completed in 1982, was the culmination of the plan that he had dreamed about for nearly 40 years -- a new campus precinct devoted to the arts and humanistic culture.
Q: Your forthcoming book on Wells will be published next year by the IU Press. Could you share an anecdote about Wells -- from his childhood or his college years at IU, or perhaps a lesser known incident from his days as an administrator in which he trumped (he was, after all, a bridge player) an otherwise thorny predicament?
A: Of course, stories about Wells are abundant. But one that I had not heard before was recounted to me in an oral history interview. During Wells' college days, a Sigma Nu fraternity brother remembered an ingenious scheme. Wells installed a massive armoire in his bedroom at the chapter house, purchased a stout lock, and made arrangements to make small loans to his friends. In exchange for the money, he received their tuxedos as collateral. Eventually, the armoire would be bulging with formal wear. Payback time occurred as a formal dance approached, when the indebted friend would clamor for their tux, and Wells calmly said: "Not until you pay me!"
