A few weeks ago I was to speak at the Lutheran Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. I took the last flight out of Durham. We landed late. A hair-raising, fifty-dollar, one hour cab ride later, I was deposited at a now utterly dark, locked up tight, Lutheran Seminary. Had no idea where I was supposed to sleep. Wandered about, Willy Loman-like, bag in hand, trying this door and that, everything locked and dark. Midnight. Finally, I saw one last light in a house on campus. In desperation I knocked on the back door. A woman came, peered out. I told her who I was. She invited me in. As it turned out, her husband was the only person I knew at the seminary - John Vannorsdabl, the President. He wasn't home, but Pat graciously fed me, phoned for me, got me to where I was supposed to be. It's great…