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An awful lot has changed at Penn over the last decade.

Of course, you probably knew that already. The admissions guidebooks and magazine write-ups have drummed that inescapable fact into our heads plenty of times already, and chances are that a few of your classmates would be spending their college days elsewhere had Penn's little renaissance never come to be.

We know these changes, most basically, by what the U.S. Newses of the world tell us: "faculty resources" are on the rise, along with alumni income, national reputation and student retention rate. Our campus landscape likewise speaks to that change: new classroom buildings and a revitalized academic environment have joined cleaner streets, trendier stores and an overall safer neighborhood in topping off what is now a fundamentally different university.

Over the last few years, this campus has evolved both physically and spiritually -- far outdoing our peers in both pace and scale of growth. Even in the non-academic world, Penn is often cited as a prime example of an institution wisely maximizing its own potential.

But what has been most incredible about this meteoric growth hasn't been its speed or even its proportion. In this little corner of academia -- a field most often characterized by careful deliberation and slow, cautious internal change -- it has been the work of a businessman that has served as the most powerful catalyst for improvement.

And now, unfortunately, that businessman is leaving us.

The legacy of John Fry is one that future generations of Penn students and faculty will be left to define. Even for all of his accomplishments and all of the growth fostered under his watch, it is nearly impossible to get a handle on all that has changed -- and all the change that has been made possible -- by way of his work.

Since his arrival as executive vice president in 1995, Fry has fundamentally redefined the role of Penn's chief business officer. He has reshaped the office from one primarily focused on budget and finance to one concerned with how those functions influence the work of the University as a whole. In the process, he developed a name for himself even in the stodgy circles of academia, and easily eclipsed three provosts -- and even, at times, the president to whom he reported -- in both notoriety and effectiveness.

Fry is the man who brought you three diners and a supermarket. But he is also the administrator who forced the change at the Division of Public Safety that cleaned up our streets, who helped launch the University City District and who tied up the loose ends of the Agenda for Excellence so that its success could be possible.

Along with Judith Rodin herself, Fry has personified the growth and development that this university has been fortunate enough to foster over the last decade.

And in four short months, he will be gone.

Come June, Fry will be president of Franklin and Marshall College in Lancaster, Pa., and some other person will sit at his desk on the seventh floor of the Franklin Building. Some other administrator will be left with the sizeable task of building on his track record of success; some other person will be left with the new responsibility of balancing the bottom-line needs of the budget with the fluctuating demands of Penn's academic community.

Some have already reacted to Fry's departure with a mixture of surprise and skepticism. The businessman-versus-academic argument has been cited quite often, in fact, with naysayers doubting the effectiveness an MBA-trained administrator can command in the top spot of an ivory tower.

There may be some reason for skepticism, but Fry's success here at Penn should give F&M; leaders reason to celebrate the future that may be possible with a new kind of leader.

Several individuals who were involved with the Fry search say, in fact, that it was his unique perspective and skill set that made him so attractive.

"One of our strongest and most influential presidents of this century, Keith Spalding... was not an academic," F&M; Classics Professor and presidential search committee member Ann Steiner said. "We have a great tradition of someone from outside academia being a tremendously effective leader.

"John Fry was the person who had the perspective and experience we were looking for."

As the F&M; community will likely soon realize, it takes a unique blend of knowledge and acumen to effectively lead an institution in this age of change in higher education. Fry was successful here because he was able to maximize his talents with regard to both. The present charge for this university, then, is to find the person -- or group of people, perhaps -- who can best replicate those dual skills to help Penn continue its rapid growth in the coming years.

The identity of the ultimate person, though, must be announced soon. Change continues to sweep through this university, and Penn's administration could always use an extra hand to help guide it.

But you already knew that.

Jonathan Margulies is a senior Management concentrator from North Bellmore, N.Y.

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