Charles G. Bell

Here we are, years upon years later and he remains one of those embedded in my ears. A student of his, `formally 74-79 but indeed longer, I hear him often but always when I return to Santa Fe. A sophomore seminar led by the redoubtable Lorna Green and him was a truly poetic experience, especially with biblical texts I might otherwise have held more at a distance. To read the Bible is for me to always hear Goethe and Cervantes echo.

I still hear his voice When I reflect on his own talks of art and poetry. I´m grateful. V. Werenko

10 plus years later memories of Charles´ life and insights continue to shine brightly.

A final word of condolence to the Charles G. Bell extended family, a poem in quote marks dedicated to his memory I did in 2012 on the idea that a seed has to die before new life can come from it. I had Lake Willoughby in winter in northeastern Vermont in mind when writing it. The title in Latin means 'Because Love Is.'

Title: "Quia Caritas Est

What is love if not granite lake
whose waves still into sheets of ice?
Fired desire as quenched for your sake
when one's...

Mr. Bell, as I called him when I was a student at St. John's 1960-64, had the gift, and willingness, unusual at that time, to connect emotionally and warmly. To me, a youngster in turmoil, he was perceptive, gentle, kind, thoroughly decent and ethical, and knowing he probably had navigated turbulent waters himself and seemed actually happy was a great comfort and encouragement. I shall always cherish his memory, and his and Danny's hospitality to us students.

It is with great sadness that I read of the death of Charles G. Bell. He was a profound influence on me during my formative years, when he taught humanities at the University of Chicago. I can't count the wonderful evening hours I spent at his home on Woodlawn Avenue, doing group readings and watching his then embryonic sound and light presentations.

Poet, philosopher, humanist... The world is a smaller place without him.

I am gratefully thinking of Charles and Danny and their family, his poetry and lectures on Art, their kindness and bounty of spirit so generously shared with me and so many others.
A true poet, he will be missed and with us at the same time.

Charles Bell was my great uncle. He was the brother of my mother's mother. I have many fond memories of him from my childhood. Probably my favorite memory is of him telling the southern folklore stories of Uncle Remus in our living room in Maryland. Like many others, I was in awe of him...his brilliant mind, his boundless energy, and his quick wit. His daughter, Nona Estrin and I share the same name, that of his mother. I feel eternally connected to him.