Over Spring Break, the Chatham community tragically lost a beloved sister. Katie Marie Walters was a student, a reader, a writer, a daughter, an older sister, and, to the rest of Chatham, a friend. For me, she was the first friend I made at orientation in the fall of 2011. I had just moved across the country to be here and amidst the hectic orientation schedule and trying to remember the names of so many new people, there was this girl whose name just stuck with me. This bright young thing, this passionate girl with a million ideas and never enough time to say them, she befriended me without a second thought. Me, the quietly terrified girl who was an entire country away from everyone she had ever known and who appreciated this kindness more than anything. Katie was incredibly passionate about everything in her life, from a seemingly mundane homework assignment to her aspiration to join Teach for America so she could change the world one student at a time, and it was this raw passion that defined her relationship with the Chatham community. She was the kind of person who could make you feel young again and like you had the whole world in front of you and it could be yours only if you were brave enough. She was the kind of person whose eyes would light up when she talked about what she wanted to do with her life and all you could really do was sit back and watch.
Referring to Katie in the past tense is, perhaps, one of the strangest and saddest things I have ever had to write. As a girl who embodied all tenses and every synonym for wild and beautiful and so-full-of-life-it’s-intoxicating that exists, Katie will not only be missed, but also forever remembered in the hearts of everyone who had the pleasure of knowing her. And, lastly, to me she will always be that bright-eyed, wild-haired girl at orientation who truly made me feel at home at Chatham.