CHICAGO – Former class of 2016 student Sam Bartholemew has moved on. “I remembered that I just wanted to help people,” says Mr. Bartholemew between green lights on the north-east corner of Ogden and Grand. “It’s why I got into medicine.” It is a windy afternoon, and the children are returning home from school.

“I ultimately just found a much more direct way to do what I love.” Now, Mr. Bartholemew helps people cross streets. “I’m a crossing guard. Helping people is basically all I do.”

Mr. Bartholemew had been an honors student during her third year of medical school. When asked what caused her to reconsider her vocation, she notes, “I loved medicine. Loved it. But you have to be true to yourself. I just wanted to help people. It’s what I had been saying from the beginning. Look at me now.”

The light, as ever, turns green. Mr. Bartholemew stands from his beach chair, whistle pursed between his lips, smoothes his reflective orange vest, gestures firmly to the stationary traffic with his hand-held stop sign, and escorts a high school junior across the street. He grins ear-to-ear.

He leaves behind, commemorating another life, a dozen-or-so publications concerning breast reconstruction on which he is a late-middle author.