My Whitworth torchbearer is Professor of History Dale Soden. Dale was my academic advisor – when I studied for a semester in Washington, D.C., he finessed my credits so I could meet my graduation requirements, and he gave me advice on post-graduation career and grad-school plans. After I graduated, in 1992, Dale, as well as Professor of English Vic Bobb, and a few staff members from the history department came to a spaghetti dinner at my studio apartment (located above Vic’s garage – I was so proud of my new home); when I moved to Japan to teach, Dale picked out thick history books at Auntie’s Books and shipped them to me (I had given him money ahead of time); and when I got married, he read scripture at my wedding. Once, during college, I walked across The Loop toward the history department one quiet afternoon while classes were in session. I spied Dale a distance away at the same time that he spied me. He broke into a run, his tie flapping over his tweed-jacketed shoulder, and we raced to beat each other to the front steps of Lindaman. I don’t remember who won, but we both arrived out of breath and laughing.