Indiana Tech, which I have styled the glorious Harvard on the Wabash, has made good on last October's promise to shut up shop in June:
The Web site is gone; links to it are redirected to the university's home page, presumably for the benefit of those whose erstwhile interest in a JD might become transmogrified into a thirst for a BS in Fashion Marketing & Management or a PhD in Global Leadership. Not one word is said about the plight of the jilted first- and second-year students, who have seen their barristerial fantasies dashed to bits against the porcelain of a toilet given its final flush.
Fortunately, however, Marilyn Odendahl took the initiative for the above-cited article to check such regional juridical behemoths as Toledo, Indiana University (both outlets of the franchise), Notre Dame (Indiana's fourth-tier trap school), Valpo, and of course Cooley. It turns out that all of these illustrious institutions are magnanimously collecting the jetsam of Indiana Tech, although at least one of the Global Leaders, unusually for a transfer student, will have to start the three-year program from scratch. I only wish that Ms. Odendahl had reported the number of centurions transferring to Harvard or Yale, as well as the number receiving free tuition in respect of the godlike excellence that they acquired at Indiana Tech.
How did the university honor its last graduating class? Not in the slightest. They got their degrees like everyone else but no other recognition, not even a mention of their status as the law school's final alumni. Indeed, only 5 of the 21 graduates even attended the ceremony; most or all of the others boycotted it so as not to have to confront the university's retiring president on the daïs. Apparently they had drunk the administrative Kool-Aid and believed that a mean official killed off their thriving gem of a law school. Instead, these worthies held their own ceremony at the Allen County Public Library (which, incidentally, houses one of the finest collections of genealogical information—something worth knowing the next time you pass through beautiful metropolitan Fort Wayne), where they paid homage to dean Charles Cercone and associate dean Charles MacLean. The twin Chucks richly deserved that inspiring accolade.
What will happen to the building erected specially for the law school? The university has not yet decided. It has, however, already sent workers in to measure the classrooms, although an examination of the blueprints should suffice. The fate of the curated art collection and the endowments for scholarships also remains unknown. As for the library's inventory, anyone wanting to bid on it should perhaps call Indiana Tech. This may be a rare opportunity to acquire rare volumes on the subject of Law & Hip-Hop.
And whither the distinguished faculty? What shall become of such superstars as André Douglas "Dougie Fresh" Pond Cummings, whose "reputation goes far beyond ... the nation, and is heard in every corner of the globe, wrestling with legacies of legal thinking on one hand and popular culture on the other"; Adam Lamparello, tell-all autobiographer and all-purpose tramp; and Aretha Green, noted for her refined palate (fried bologna with mayonnaise being her favorite delicacy), her sophisticated hobbies (snooping in houses), and her disdain for books? At the time of publication, I had not been able to verify the abundant rumors of deanships at the Sorbonne and sable-carpeted corner offices in New York's white-shoe law firms.
I'd like to conclude this eulogy with a musical tribute, written to the tune of "Back Home Again in Indiana". Pity that it's too late to hire Hoosier pride and joy Jim Nabors to intone it at a ceremony in honor of those valiant legal centurions with freshly issued JDs.
Back home again in Indiana,
Where it seems that I just saw
The Wabash Cannonball
Go to the wall:
Fort Wayne's toilet school of law.
Discordant strains of hip-hop echo
From the remnants of the wreck.
No more Global Leadership along the Wabash;
Turn the lights out at Indiana Tech.