“There was a sky bridge?”

-Freshmen, probably.

She supported students and staff alike, until that tragic day in March 2014.

She was a quiet icon, one who never complained about having to carry such a burden, but had such an essential role on campus. Yet her time had come.

She was falling apart, quite literally. Bits of concrete began to rain down on the sidewalk below, and try as she might to keep it all contained, it was too much in the end. After professional investigations, it was decided that Skyler – the sky bridge – had to be condemned.

Returning students and staff alike felt the blow to their schedules – approximately three whole minutes were added to the trek between the Academic Center and the second floor of Schimmel Hall. This is a true tragedy. After all, how will we make it to the coffee shop before class?

Yes, Skyler was a quiet icon. Both for her own species (Skyus bridgicus) and for Corban itself. Her image graced many posters, flyers, booklets, and Instagram posts. Many Corbanites remember their first trip over Skyler, their legs shaking as much as she did. A few students might remember trying to see how much they could make her sway. They trusted her. She never faltered. However, time takes its toll on bridges and people alike. She is gone but not forgotten.

Mark Twain once said,  “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” Skyler lived her life to the fullest. She was one of those rare breeds who humbly accepted and flourished in her place in life. She was the best she could be, and she never once wanted to be anything else. She knew it wasn’t the most glamorous job, but she embraced it. It was who she was.

RIP Skyler. You gave us more support than we deserved.

There are no plans to replace Skyler at the moment, neither physically nor in our hearts.