John Daniel Wells

My name is John Daniel Wells.

It is in very rare form that I open up a chapter of my personal life on this blog. Since I began blogging, I have maintained a policy to leave out most of my personal and social life. Today is different.

As I just mentioned, my name is John Daniel Wells. Most of my readers are unaware of where my name comes from. I'm not related to anyone in a Wells family. I don't know of any traditions, customs, or history that could uniquely identify me as a Wells. When I visit my relatives, none of them carry this name. I am only a Wells in name; and in name only.

So, how did I get this name? To be honest, I am not sure when it happened. My best guess is that it happened between the ages of nine and twelve. Although it probably happened, I do not recall being asked whether or not I wanted to change my name. In Fort Sill Oklahoma, I was named John Keeton Steffens at birth. The name Steffens came from my biological father. I didn't meet him until I was fourteen. He was a bad man then. Alcohol and drugs consumed his life and he had to go. I am thankful for being taken away from him. It is difficult to determine how my life would have ended up with him around. Some years later my mother married a man named Dan Wells. At that time he seemed to be a flashy and arrogant man. My best guess is that I was close to five years old at the beginning of that marriage. At some point late into the marriage I was taken to an attorney and had my name changed to John Daniel Wells. While the story is likely much more complex than this, it is all I remember of it.

My memories of the man of which I am named after are largely negative. He fed me and pushed me into baseball. He also ruled my young world harshly, throwing me against walls when I was out of line. We took a trip together and toured the American West. On that trip, he informed me that he was leaving my mother when we returned. That was hard news to swallow. I remember crying in a phone booth talking to my mother. After he delivered his news, he started buying occasional cards in the shapes of hearts and other love symbols for a real estate agent he worked with. I became well aware of an affair he was having while on vacation. Because of that experience, the entire trip is all but erased from my memory. When we returned he did exactly what he said he would do. I remember seeing him twice after that. My mother sat on the front steps crying. I sat next to her and said "Its ok mom. We don't need a dad."

This morning I was informed that he died last September. I did not shed one tear, nor have any room for an emotional response. People die, it is the way of the world. He was one of the approximately 155,000 people in the world that died that day.

Up to this point, this piece will come off as harsh and damning. I will certainly disagree. I have only stated the facts, and left out my emotions. This is the work of a trained historian: State the facts. However I do want to close with an allowance for my emotion.


At times I have wished he would somehow come across this blog and read about my life. I have developed in a way that would have been difficult for him to recognize. I am far from child he may have known in me.

My bachelor degree holds the name John Daniel Wells. I am determined to make sure that my masters and Ph.D will carry another name. This will be a name of my choice. The names I have carried are the names of people that are strange and foreign to me. The new name will hopefully be of substance and meaning.

To those that knew Daniel E. Wells, please know that I have only one wish for him. I hope
that he made peace somehow with God. This world is temporary and the hereafter is permanent. I hope his time in eternity is restful.