Andy Feinstein Steps Down at UNC

The Denver Gazette piece by Hap Fry is less a standard departure story and more a fitting profile of a man who managed to do something increasingly rare in higher education. He led without acting like he was too important to sit down, listen, shake a hand, or grab breakfast with somebody outside the usual cocktail circuit. The article walks through Dr. Andrew “Andy” Feinstein’s decision to step down as president of the University of Northern Colorado on Aug. 1, just as UNC’s new College of Osteopathic Medicine prepares to welcome its first class this fall.

Fry tells the story the right way. He does not reduce Feinstein to a resume line or some sterile list of administrative wins. He paints the fuller picture. Yes, Feinstein helped drive the creation of Colorado’s third medical school, and that is no small thing. Yes, he leaves behind a major legacy at UNC. But the article also makes clear that the man behind the title mattered every bit as much as the title itself. He is present. He is accessible. He is human. 

And that matters around here. In Weld County, people can smell a phony from three feedlots away. Titles do not impress us nearly as much as character does. The article captures that truth well. Andy Feinstein may not be from here originally, but he clearly learned the Weld County Way, and more importantly, he respected it. That is rarer than it should be.

The Bullet Point Brief

• Hap Fry’s piece announces that Andy Feinstein is stepping down after eight years as UNC president, with his exit timed just ahead of the opening of UNC’s medical school. Not a bad way to leave the stage. Better than clinging to the curtain rod while the house lights come up.
• The article makes clear that Feinstein’s signature achievement is helping launch Colorado’s third medical school, with an inaugural class of 81 students and a mission that could help address the doctor shortage in rural Colorado. Turns out building something useful still counts as leadership, which is refreshing in an era of mission statements and interpretive dance.
• Fry also notes that Feinstein’s style was unusually personal for a university president. He ran toward people, not away from them. He charged onto the football field with the Bears, worked cafeteria lines, and generally acted like the school belonged to the people who make it run. Imagine that. A university leader who did not float six inches above the peasants.
• The piece does not duck the hard parts. During his tenure, UNC cut 80 to 100 positions, and Feinstein openly acknowledged the pain of those decisions. Real leadership is not all ribbon cuttings and glossy brochures. Sometimes it is carrying decisions that hurt and not hiding behind consultant jargon when the bill comes due.
• The most moving section of the article covers the death of Feinstein’s son, Nick, in a 2022 avalanche, and the way the family and community carried each other through that grief. That part hits hard because it reminds you that no title shields a man from heartbreak. At the end of the day, president, commissioner, ranch hand, or janitor, pain is still pain and grace is still grace.

My Bottom Line

I do not have much to add to this article because, honestly, Hap Fry already said a lot of it well. This is a fitting tribute to a very decent man. In a world full of polished climbers, brand managers, and professional self-promoters, Andy Feinstein stands out because he seems to have never forgotten how to simply be a person. That sounds like a low bar, but these days it clears half the field.

I am a common, garden-variety redneck from LaSalle, Colorado. Guys like me do not usually hang out with university presidents, mostly because university presidents usually do not hang out with guys like me. But Andy does. When I first became a Weld County commissioner, he reached out and asked if we could have breakfast. We have been doing that ever since. We talk about the community, sure, but we also talk about family, struggle, loss, hope, and the future. That tells you more about the man than any plaque on a wall ever could.

When his son passed, I did not have any perfect words. There are no perfect words for something like that. I hugged him anyway. I pray for him daily. He knows the struggles our family has had with my son, and he has always listened with genuine care. Not performative concern. Not professional empathy. Real listening. Real friendship. That is a gift, and it is not one I take lightly.

Greeley and Weld County have a way about them. If you are from here, you know exactly what I mean. It is a little grit, a little stubbornness, a little loyalty, and a pretty sharp radar for bullshit. Andy was not born into that, but he understood it. He respected it. He fit right in. That is why UNC losing him as president stings. Leaders like that do not grow on trees, and Lord knows higher education has produced its fair share of overeducated tumbleweeds.

But selfishly, I am glad he is staying right here. UNC may be changing presidents, but Weld County is not losing Andy Feinstein. And for me, that matters because this is not just about a public figure stepping down. It is about a friend staying home.

Source: The Denver Gazette