Locust Walk, the main thoroughfare through the University of Pennsylvania’s campus, holds many memories for me. I’ll never forget the buzz and excitement of walking along that brick-laden path as a freshman feeling both excited and intimidated by four years of possibility standing before me. I remember being initiated into my senior society, chalking the ground during that exciting night. And, of course, I’ll always cherish the rainy day that was nonetheless full of sunshine when I marched in my robe toward graduation.
Locust Walk is special to me, and I’m blessed that the Office of the Chaplain is right there in the middle of it. During my first year as chaplain, while walking on Locust, I bumped into a man named Harold Haskins, a campus administrator who literally helped ten
