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Page 18 text:
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THE SENIORS CLASS OFFICERS President James Page Vice-President John Stephens Secretary Thomas Walter Treasurer Norman Allen Historian Anthony Monaco Ser geant -at -Arms . . . William Strahan SENIOR CLASS HISTORY The conclusion of each academic year inevitably brings with its glad tiding the effervescent afterglow of bittersweet mefnories. Invariably, the thoughts of the student recall to memory many occurrences of the preceding years. The unpleasant incidents are quickly relegated to the farthest recesses of his mind; the happy events are ruminated once again for fear that some may have been overlooked. To say, unreservedly, that all our days spent at the B. C. D. S. were occasions of rejoicing would insult the intelligence of the faculty and seriously question the integrity of the students. There have been moments of melancholy and exultation; of remorse and unmiti gated joy; of grave disappointment and unbounded confidence; of elation and dejection. The class made its inauspicious debut at the time when more momen- tous occurrences were coursing the current world events. A spirit of levity was conspicuously absent and the prevailing atmosphere was one of deep concern. Our instructors charitably took us in hand and we skipped merrily into the labyrinthine maze of Anatomy, Histology and Biochemistry. Though shaken, we emerged unscathed and our horizon once again came into view. What we thought to be a brief respite was merely the calm before the tempest. Neuroanatomy, with its tortuous convolutions, offered no surcease from our state of befuddlement and confusion. While we groped, we learned, and as we learned we realized the deep satisfaction that comes from the knowledge of a task well done. The end of the freshman year brought the usual sighs of relief. The students, one and all, through some misconception, thought their days of travail at an end. Surely the freshman year would have been sufficient to Page Twelve
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Page 19 text:
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mold that veritable fortress of knowledge which would accompany us through life. But there was more. The sophomore year was upon us, its pregnant textbooks teeming with data we were to make part of ourselves. In order not to waste precious time, the faculty deemed our collective intellections agile enough by now to coordinate our nimble fingers. The technic courses came in profusion and we were saved only by our indomi- table will to survive. The advent of our first clinical year superseded anything that had been presented to us before. From the moment of its inception we realized the magnitude of the task. The multitude of courses designed to teach us technic were merely introductions to something infinitely greater. Each patient entrusted to our care came as an individual, an entity that would not respond to the careless diffidence with which we had regarded our endoforms. By that time though, our very stable foundations were firmly in- grained. Slowly, gradually, almost imperceptibly, our attitudes began to change. Gone were the cross petulances of the formative years; our impulses had become occasions for deliberation, and the rudiments of pro- fessionalism were slowly inculcated. Today as we look about us, that feeling of ineptness, once so painfully ours, has been replaced by a placid composure. We are amazed that this sensation of adequacy should have finally evolved from our humble atti- tude of some months ago. Perhaps this feeling of competence is a natural concomitant of the long, arduous years of study; perhaps it is a true evaluation of our sense of importance and of the quality of our work; or perhaps we have so run the gamut of h uman emotions that nothing else can perceptibly shake our composure again. We take leave, but not without regrets and certainly not without the joyous jubilations we have so well earned. We leave no testament to those classes following: merely the evidence of a task completed; the uncertainty of one yet to be begun. Dr. M. S. Aisenberg Honorary Class President Page Thirteen
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