UNIVERSITY PARK, Pa. -- Deep in the recesses of the Lasch Football Building at Penn State University, a rectangular box sits alone.

Brad "Spider" Caldwell led a visitor there Friday morning, up the stairs of a loading dock, through a hallway to a large equipment room and into an opening on the left.

"Come on back," he said.

To the back of the alcove Mr. Caldwell went and took a right at the final wooden shelf, where he pointed out an orange-and-black shoebox with a tiny, white label.

"JOE PATERNO," it said in black printer ink.

"This would have been the last pair," Mr. Caldwell said.

Mr. Paterno, the iconic football coach who died last Sunday at 85 of complications due to lung cancer, never got to wear those black Nike Air Commanders onto the field at Beaver Stadium.

During a troubling and divisive time for Penn State, the university's students, faculty and alumni have been able to agree on one thing: The void of Mr. Paterno's death will take years to fill.

And the ultimate challenge facing Penn State -- healing a fractured alumni base in the aftermath of the child sex abuse scandal involving former Penn State defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky and the resulting firing of Mr. Paterno by the school's board of trustees in November -- is all the more daunting without him.

Those issues were put aside this past week as thousands mourned Mr. Paterno at a public viewing Tuesday and Wednesday and a memorial service Thursday. Friday was the beginning of the rest of Penn State's life, and Mr. Caldwell drove to work at 5 a.m. thinking about how it would be his job -- and that of many others -- to further Mr. Paterno's "Grand Experiment" of nurturing players who equally strived for learning and winning.

"I was so charged up," Mr. Caldwell said.

Mr. Caldwell, like many Penn Staters, came here as a student because of Mr. Paterno. Arriving from the small town of Clearfield, Clearfield County, in 1983, he was a student manager his freshman year and has been working in the equipment room ever since.

About five years ago, Nike stopped making Air Commanders, with the white swoosh on the back and the sides and the flap. Mr. Caldwell, Penn State's longtime equipment manager, had several pairs of Air Commanders specially made.

To extend the life of Mr. Paterno's trademark sneakers, Mr. Caldwell and his team of student managers started a tradition. They would paint the size 10 1/2 shoes before each game with shoe or fingernail polish to make sure the colors would pop. One manager would handle the duty until the Nittany Lions lost, when another manager would take over the next week out of superstition.

It was, like most of the chores Mr. Caldwell and his staff performed for Mr. Paterno, a labor of love.

"There will only ever be one Coach Paterno," Mr. Caldwell said. "I can't believe I was a small part of his legacy."