Tim Lenicheck ’63

I visited Trinity during spring vacation of my junior year in high school because the dean at the Episcopal Cathedral in Milwaukee, my home church, asked me to stop by and say hello to his friend from seminary days, Mo Thomas, who was chaplain at Trinity. He pointed out that I would be going to Harvard from Princeton and this would be a good break from the highway. So, I did. Rev. Thomas was not on campus—(almost) nobody was since it was spring break—but someone in Admissions produced a student who was on campus writing a senior paper, and he walked around with me. The day was classic pre-spring: bare branches, gray sky, chilling wind, almost funereal. Not at all like the warm sunny day I’d had at Princeton. The Long Walk, anchored then and now by the Chapel at one end and the library at the other, sent me a clear message: this was a place where I could learn—academics, yes, but much more. I saw Harvard—arrogant, aloof, needing nothing and certainly not me. When I was told Princeton grads loved it so much they were buried in orange-and-black blazers, my mind was made up: I was going to Trinity if it would have me. It would, and the rest is history. Meaningful places on campus? The Chapel and the Long Walk, of course. I lived three of my four years in Jarvis and Cook.  

Sometimes you get lucky. I did.