During the past five years, when students would gather in the passageways of the Modern Dance building to eat lunch, Satu Hummasti had become accustomed to hearing Chance Anderson’s distinct, infectious laugh almost every day.
Anderson, a senior in modern dance, had a few more classes to finish before he was supposed to graduate — an accomplishment he will never complete.
Friends of Anderson said he died in his sleep Thanksgiving day, but none of them knew the exact cause of death. By Monday morning, news of his death sent shockwaves throughout the small, tight-knit department of modern dance as students arrived in classes.
“I think everyone is still in disbelief,” said Cherie Mockli, a senior in modern dance. “We’re still mourning this week. It’s been quiet, and it’s been slow.”
Hummasti, a professor in the department who had taught Anderson periodically for the past four years, said she had grown to appreciate Anderson’s sense of humor. Just last week, she was thinking about how the department would feel when the popular soon-to-be-graduate moved on — she just didn’t expect it to be this soon or this way.
“I had been thinking about what we were going to do when Chance graduates, because he had been with us so long,” Hummasti said. “He had a very good sense of humor, and was a very hard worker.”
In Hummasti’s technique class, Anderson applied his energy to learn the combinations, but his efforts didn’t stop there — he tried to make the material his own, she said.
Anderson taught dance technique classes at West High School and Judge Memorial High School. He was a natural teacher who could have easily moved into a teaching position after graduating, said Brent Schneider, associate dean for the College of Fine Arts. Schneider was Anderson’s teaching methods instructor and taught him to teach dance to high schoolers.
“He had an amazing rapport with the students,” Schneider said. “He expected a lot of those students, and everyone wanted to work hard for him.”
Mockli had been in more than 40 rehearsals with Anderson during the past year. Mockli said Anderson went out of his way to reach out to everybody and had a gift that allowed him to make everyone feel special.
“Chance was the type of guy who made you feel like the most special person in the world,” she said. “He would cheer everyone on and give encouragement.”
Anderson also loved to laugh. Mockli said she wore a fishnet leotard to ballet class the day before he died because she knew it would amuse Anderson.
“I walked over to him, told him I was wearing my Britney Spears fishnets, and he lit up,” she said.
Anderson’s body was cremated, and there will be no funeral. However, the family has asked that in lieu of flowers, people donate to the department of modern dance in his name.
“Chance was a true artist,” Hummasti said. “We’re all going to miss him terribly.”