1 What Kind of World Was This?

On a wintry day in 2016, Howard Hiatt makes his way through Harvard Yard, past John Harvard, the university founder seated comfortably in bronze, nicely weathering the years, much as his legacy weathers the centuries. The yard bustles, as always, with disheveled students, wide-eyed applicants on campus tours, and an array of preoccupied faculty. It is early February, seventy-four years almost to the day since Howard first walked this very pathway as a seventeen-year-old Harvard College freshman. On that day, he was a boundlessly energetic teenager with an outsized intellect and a determination to do something special with his life. Since then, much has changed and nothing has changed. Yes, he moves with greater care now that he has reached his tenth decade, not quite as certain in his stride. His memory falters now and again and the seven-plus decades have bent him slightly, weathered his lean, handsome visage. But the intellect is still immensely powerful as is his determination to do things that matter in the world. He passes Widener Library, one of the great collections on any campus worldwide. How many hours did he spend in Widener, in particular, as an undergraduate preparing for what lay ahead? Students spill out of Wigglesworth, a freshman dorm, as Howard completes his walk through the Yard and across Massachusetts Avenue, down Holyoke, a little side street, to Mt. Auburn St., where he turns right. He is not far from the red bricked Spee Club and or from the other exclusive private clubs—Fly, Owl, Porcellian (he was a member of none of these). Howard walks the few blocks west, past the Kennedy School of Government, to an elegant brick structure tucked away between Mt. Auburn and the Charles River. This tastefully designed condominium building, on what was Harvard property, is where Howard now resides. Fittingly, it is within steps of the campus.