While Harvard undergrads might get their brains pecked by mid-terms and papers, Harvard Business School students are facing a more
While Harvard undergrads might get their brains pecked by mid-terms and papers, Harvard Business School students are facing a more tangible fowl foe: an actual turkey. Two weeks ago, The Crimson reported that HBS students had created a Facebook group complaining about a turkey running wild around the campus (Kumar, Prateek, “Turkey Runs Afoul of Biz School,” The Harvard Crimson, Oct. 8). The matter intrigued FM, and we decided to lead our own investigation.
Upon our arrival at the Business School, first-year student A.J. Crane overhears us talking about the turkey, and points us to where he’s seen it hang out.
“It attacks people!” Crane says. “I’ll hide from it if I see it.”
Determined to get to the bottom of this funny business, we ignore his warnings and continue our quest. It turns out not everyone shares his frightened view of the festive creature.
“I personally like the turkey,” Peter Michailidis, another first-year, says. “It chased me around a couple of times.”
We delve deeper into the heart of the campus, gradually approaching the turkey’s territory. To our surprise and disappointment, the turkey isn’t there. We go around the campus again—maybe the rain had forced it to hide. Around and around we walk until the last rays of light slowly vanish. We call it quits—for now—and return the following day.
Once again, students point us towards the animal’s alleged hide-out. Once again, we take their word for it. But—once again—the turkey is nowhere to be found. We do come across some cute rabbits, but unless a clump of them had somehow been mistaken for a turkey, the elusive bird is Harvard’s Loch Ness Monster—a myth and a mystery.