As a lifelong, very proud Chicagoan, the name Daniel Burnham became known to me early in life. In fact, it was because of him and not Frank Lloyd Wright that my first love was architecture. Ok, my first love was actually Heidi Meyer, but architecture would be a mainstay in my life long after the memory of that first kiss Ms. Meyer bestowed upon me by the vending machines in the Museum of Science and Industry had waned. The irony of the setting in which that first kiss took place was not immediately known to me. I had no knowledge that Burnham’s hand had literally formed the building around me where puppy love took root. I only knew that I loved being in that building. At that moment. And that Ms. Meyer smelled really good.