Columbia University College of Pharmacy - Apothekan Yearbook (New York, NY)

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A Dash oi Spirits . . . just as abruptly you shuddered, took hold of the arms of the chair and appeared stunned. The faces you remembered weren ' t human ones, but rather a conglomeration of horrible, immobile features. The faces were accompanied by similarly fantastic garb, some appearing to be clothed entirely in navy blue, with others completely in khaki. Their skulls were invariably covered with a device resembling a Mexican tortilla and in general they presented a terrifying appearance. The fright that had momen- tarily seized you passed with the realiza- tion that those terrors were merely a group of faculty members gone berserk at the antics of the irresponsible lower classmen. The irrepressable Class of ' 50 remained the bulwark of the College. It comforted the ill faculty members and exercised a firm, restraining hand on the raucous elements in the school. Now your recollections shift to more academic subjects. You used to work so meticulously in the Pharmaceutical Chemis- try lab. You would carefully plan each day ' s work in advance. Your apparatus was a shining example of chemical cleanliness. You conducted control experiments at all times and went to extraordinary lengths to insure the accuracy of your measurements — both volumentric and gravimetric. It was no wonder, then, that you were constantly amazed and crestfallen when you received grades of 2 , 3 , or even 0.5 in your experiments. Could it be possible that the passing student didn ' t spill enough of your sample? But what added most to your be- wilderment was the fact that William Griset and Fhi ' ip Keusch, those paragons of chemi- cal virtuss, would consistantlv receive the highest marks for their work. You were cer- tain that they didn ' t adhere strictly to the Jenkins and DuMez code. Another puzzling factor was introduced when you learned that Griset had taken special instructions under that noted chemist, Dr. George Gal- lup. You remember somewhat with pleas- ure the lectures of Professor Taub and his crystal-clear explanation of Beer ' s Law which was all suds to you now. Another delightful memory was thoughts of dear old Herbert Lieberman. He was Assistant in Pharma-chem. Since Kerb was affiliated with the indomitable Class of ' 50, every one assumed that he would extend to that august group every courtesy, and would generally be lenient. Actually, although it is not commonly known, he was just that. It seems Lieberman had planned on assign- ing 22 homework sheets that year, but upon learning that it was his class, he magnan- imously reduced that number to eleven inconsequential exercises. Ah, the memories are coming rapidly now (as did the elevator when you were attempting to use it clandestinely) and a particularly bright one finds you leisurely taking notes during Doctor Di Somma ' s lecture. Your pencil snaps and you reach for another in your breastpocket. Naturally, Wh vr Triaie you AcciAe on pk --macy school, ijounq may ' .

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CLASS HISTORY The honor ol wiling (he history ot the tabulous Class of ' 50 was accorded to one Howard Click. He, more than any single student, was capable ol capturing the full Uavor ol the class, and expressing its sentiments. For the undeterable Mr. Glict WAS the Class ol ' 50. —Ed. by HOWARD GLICK Some evening, a few years from now, you will arrive home after a particularly tough day at the store, have dinner, go into the living room, collapse upon the softest chair, kick off your shoes and try to relax. You ' re sitting now, enjoying tobacco as you like it and thinking random thoughts, when for the first time perhaps, you ponder the passing years. It amuses you. A half smile forms within your mind as you recall happy times in your youth. Your wistful meditation is gently turned to inquisitiveness as the smoke tumbles into the air around you. You speculate as to whether or not the haze of smoke becomes an integral part of the atmosphere and how it affects the air you breath. And all the while an association of ideas is ramb- ling through your brain; but you can ' t seem to trap them successfully. You ' re still pondering when your wife informs you that afterdinner coffee is ready. With the first sip you are awakened from your pensive- ness, the super-hot beverage scalding your mouth. But the pain subsides and you ' re relieved by the cooling air bathing your tongue. That coffee was hot, very hot, boil- ing hot. And with that you have it — Boyle ' s law races vividly through your mind, with Charles a half foot behind and coming fast on the rail. Now you smile broadly as a tidal wave of memories flood your cons- ciousness. You recall with satisfaction your four years at dear old, old CUCP. Why, it seems like only yesterday that you were a clean-shaven, immaculately groomed, well-behaved, young student roaming the ivy halls of Alma Mater. You reflect happily upon your classmates and the faculty mem- bers who still remain vivid after so many years. But you remember best of all the pride you felt deep down here for your class— THE INIMITABLE CLASS OF ' 50. There was a class, a class ' class in the vernacular. You recall how your class — the dauntless Class of ' 50 — conducted it- self in the senior year. After four short, but long years, the class had matured physically (and in some cases, even mentally). Here was a shining example to the entire school — a ' class which paid rapt and unyielding attention to all its professors; a class which deported it- self in a gentlemanly and unobtrusive fashion at all times. You begin now to try to piece together the details of your career at school, a period of four years during which a motley crew of 66 individual personali- ties were triturated, macerated, percolated, titrated, shaped carefully and exactingly to a mold wherein they assumed professional stature. Abruptly you recalled the faces of your former colleagues in study, and

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you allow at least a tull blank page in your notes for the material you missed during this interval. But then again, those lectures really weren ' t so bad; for even if Dr. DiSom- ma did proceed rather hurriedly, he com- pensated for this with the clarity and lucidity of his delivery. Several quite impor- tant organic laboratory procedures were developed by the precocious Class o ' 50. For example, it was proven conclusively that if 5 grams of material was the quantity specified by Feiser to produce a satisfactory yield, and the student quite accidentally weighed out 50 grams, a yield would be obtained which, if mixed with equal quanti- ties of the pure product being prepared, would be sufficient to give a 75 per cent yield. (The technical data explaining this theory may be obtained by sending a stamped self-addressed envelope to H. Rosenblum Laboratories on Second Avenue and Second Street, New York City.) As a result of sterling performances in organic chemistry, seven students went to do work on the Uptown Campus during the ensueing spring and summer months. Mister Phaimacy The accuracy, precision, and meticu- lousness which were indicative of your laboratory work was first developed in the inorganic analytical chemistry courses. Here it was that you rapturously calibrated your first set of weights — a genuine, standard- ized, registered $5.00 set of weights, which was sold to the Class ol ' 50 at the special price of $13.00 per box — this amazing feat perpetrated by Little Nick ' s boss. Can you ever forget how helpful Professor Samuel Liberman was touring the lab, ever alert to aid a faltering analyst with the refrain: you ' re wasting your time. In the rat-race which was officially designated Quantitative Chemistry Laboratory, it became apparent that all this talk about preconceived results and calculated answers was erroneous. For in that lab it was shown beyond a shadow of a doubt, that careful work, astuteness, and general application were the determining factors in passing the unknowns. As final evidence of this, Donald Kornreich received A on his phosphate as Seymour Blaug, and all he stood for, bit the dust with an F. A refreshing introduction to college chemistry was offered the neophyte Class of ' 50 by Doctor Bailey. In all memory- searching, it is difficult to find something caustic to say about her. So why comment beyond the point of expressing sound grate- fulness. Quief Students!