Last week around midnight, I was strolling across Trinity Commons, taking a shortcut to get home. Suddenly, I found myself walking toward a group of about a dozen young men and women, standing in a circle, chanting something low and rhythmic. They were all dressed identically: dark gray Costco slacks, a red Wildcat Bookstore T-shirt.
Last week around midnight, I was strolling across Trinity Commons, taking a shortcut to get home. Suddenly, I found myself walking toward a group of about a dozen young men and women, standing in a circle, chanting something low and rhythmic. They were all dressed identically: dark gray Costco slacks, a red Wildcat Bookstore T-shirt.