The committee continued giving Fineberg the benefit of a doubt. His interviews had gone very well, and he had successfully pitched the committee on his plans to revamp the College. He had given his entire life to Harvard, teaching, administration and fund-raising. It seemed only natural progression for him to succeed to Mass. Hall. But, alas, as the ultimate insider, there was nothing Fineberg could do to create a "wow" factor for the University.

Two weeks after the Overseer meeting, Bollinger announced to University of Michigan Regents that he was flying to New York to interview with the committee on the 18th—the first time a candidate had interviewed seriously three times. With the search nearing completion, privacy became an even bigger deal. Clarice Goodall, D. Ronald Daniel's McKinsey secretary, found an out-of-the-way hotel on the Upper East Side for the committee to hide away. Bollinger met with the committee through the morning, and then dined with them. Then he went home to Ann Arbor to await his fate. After the meeting, one committee member called him "the ultimate fit."

The ultimate fit—minus two things. The committee looked long and hard at Bollinger—his intelligence, his questioning mind, his grand plans attracted them all—but no matter his brilliant ideas and wonderful personality, he had two fatal flaws in their mind. At 54, Bollinger was just too old. The committee wanted someone who could hold the job for 15 or 20 years, like the great presidents Bok and Eliot. After all, only 26 people had served as president in Harvard's 365 years. Secondly, Bollinger had no Harvard degree—and thus would be the first president since the 1600s to not be an alum of the University.

Then, on Feb. 25, Summers "wowed" them with his diverse knowledge of the University, as an insider and an outsider

"He just represented an extraordinary person who had the potential to be amazing president of Harvard. He had really a very deep passion for knowledge, a comfort with complexity, and all of the essential values of the academy," a committee member said.

And Summers offered several promises to the committee that relaxed their final concerns. He promised not to accept the position of Chair of the Federal Reserve if that was offered to him after Alan Greenspan retired. He would be a loyal Harvard man.

That left only one issue: Summers' temper. Rumors abounded of an explosive temper that had cowed and embarrassed underlings at the World Bank and the Treasury Department. It took a phone call from one of Harvard's most powerful alums, Robert E. Rubin `60—Summers' predecessor as Treasury Secretary and now chair of Citigroup—to defuse the question. Rubin called three search committee members personally, reassuring Houghton, Daniel and Stone that the temper was now a non-issue, that Summers' years in government had softened him.

The morning after the Boston Harbor meeting, the committee convened in its conference room at Loeb House to decide on a president. As the giant grandfather clock in the room chimed the passing hours, the committee debated the candidates and their respective merits. Who would bring what to the table? They kept coming back to Summers.