Charlotte Memorial Hospital School of Nursing - Lamp Yearbook (Charlotte, NC)

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CLRSS HISTORY In the fall of 1950, sixty-six depression babies swarmed into the rooms at the Charlotte Memorial Hospital nurses home. The seniors considered the brats necessary evils, but soon found entertainment in seeing how many exaggerations they would believe. Of course, at that time proctoscopic, gastrocnemius, and colostomy left us wide-eyed and spell-bound that such a vocabulary could exist. They soon realized that, as all Pre-Clinicals do, we lent an air of enthusiasm and eagerness. Someday when we are rocking in our chair by the fireplace, wrinkled and worn from age, our grand- children will ask for a bedtime story, and we will grope for the memories which will come . . . slowly . . . GRANDMOTHER ' S TALE Yes, children, those were the good ole ' days! The first year was a little hard, but we settled down and began studying and learning more and more about hospital routine and nursing life. On a bright September morning, we gathered to join a class to work, laugh, and study together. Some were a little frightened, some eager, others were timid, and a few were confused and probably bored. This was the beginning of our up- ward struggle for enlightenment in the nursing profes- sion. I remember the Hallowe ' en Carnival and our side show with the blonde mermaid, Siamese twins, wild woman and many other attractions. To our great de- light we won first prize. One of our most momentous occasions was that early, cold, bleak, December morning when sixty- five frightened and trembling creatures ambled reluc- ts o tantly to our first assignment in the hospital, as if some magnetic force was pulling us. Then came the Christmas dance which preceded a glorious two weeks vacation at home. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we received our caps which were so long anticipated. We were now the ones to be admired. With our caps perched on our heads and a feeling of importance, we began our first eight hour day. Results: aching legs, tired backs, and gripes innumerable. How well I remember September of 1951, when we became jolly juniors with Catherine Hine leading us. Three until eleven became a shocking reality, and many new special services were in store for us. The Student Christian Association was organized with the able assistance of Miss Snelling, and an orientation program for new students was developed. Lemonade, welcome signs, identification tags, fun, fri- volity, and a lawn party climaxed a busy first week for the freshmen. In December we waved goodbye to twelve tear- stained faces departing on the big Greyhound bus for Torrance, the first of our class to leave. Initiating the Junior-Senior Banquet in May of this same year was one of our greatest accomplishments, and proved to be a big success. Through the summer we welcomed our first month ' s vacation. The goal for which we had long been striving was almost reached when we received our black strip . . . the ever immortal Senior! Jo Cloninger directed us through many difficult situations as well as many happy ones. Night duty made the senior feel the true responsi- bility entrusted to her. During this year we sponsored the Hallowe ' en Car- nival where the bowery of the seacoast was again brought to life as our contribution. Featured were the can-can girls, torchy, and the bar room piano. In December, 1952, our class was once again to- gether, all home from affiliation and we celebrated with a feast at Rozzell ' s Ferry Restaurant. Belts were loosened and much alka-seltzer and turns were consumed the day after! Of all our accomplishments and activities, our most cherished was the organization of the Santa Filomena. We are proud of the fact that the charter members: Jean Crisp, Ruby Steele, Louise Lee, Dottie Long and Peggy Royal, where chosen from our class. The tapping ceremony was very impressive and one never to be forgotten. After remembering all these things, our hearts were filled with both joy and sorrow as we stood looking at the school that had played such a great role in our lives, the school we entered, remained within for three years, and left. On that eventful day of graduation, we lifted our heads high and looked to that Leader of all leaders. We prayed: Lead us whether the future be dark or whether it be bright. Help me to make Charlotte Memo- rial Hospital as proud of me as I am of her. Children, those were the good years of our lives, years of hard work and ever new experiences and pleasant memories, years alive with precious friend- ships and the serene satisfaction felt from giving service to others. Those three golden years are history now, but they are a living history we shall never, never forget. Wanda Reid and Ann Stoneham, Historians

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Tuesday Night Dear Mom: My letters to you during these past three years haven ' t been much more than a compiled list of my gripes and complaints and how I was being overworked. Then I ' d go for weeks without writing explaining that I just didn ' t have time unless, of course, I ran out of money, which called for a special delivery letter home. I don ' t think I ever took time out to tell you what it ' s really like being a student nurse. To help you understand what I ' ve been doing and to make up for all those letters I didn ' t write, I ' ll just send my annual along to you and tell you some- thing about our hospital and school of Nursing. There were lots of times when I thought I just couldn ' t take this business of nursing any more but you always came through with some wise encouragement and maybe some homemade cookies. Mom, I feel like they ought to give my diploma to you; ' cause if it hadn ' t been for you I ' d never have made it. I remember reading in a book once where some man said, God has a special little place in heaven for Mothers. Now I know what he meant. . . Page Six

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LAST WILL firiD TESTflmEflT We, the Class of 1953, being fully aware of the shortness of time left to us and knowing from past experiences how swiftly will pass the hours which now separate us from our day of graduation, do pause for a moment to dispose of some of our most treasured articles, attributes, and pastimes. However, much we regret the necessity for the deposition of these posses- sions. The pitiless tick of the clock warns us that our days at C.M.H. are numbered, and that the time is close at hand when we must depart. The hours spent in class and at work, the minutes consumed in friendly conversation, the flashing second of joy or grief will come no more for us. We ' ve used them all— filling some with pleasures, some with sor- rows, some with mistakes, but all with memories. Now we pause to bestow the following bequests to the friends who follow us. It is the hope of the class that the items herein mentioned will serve to enrich and enliven the years, the days, and the hours that will go to make up the time of your life at C.M.H. ARTICLE I 1. We extend our grateful thanks to our faculty and supervisors for their patience and understanding with their little students. We cannot repay, but can onlv remember forever their interest and time spent to make our days profitable and enjoyable. 2. To the remaining student body, we leave the hope that their loyalty to their alma mater will never die. ARTICLE II I, Red Allen, leave my defensive attitude toward a certain Doctor to anyone who understands. I, Ellen Beam, leave my voice to anyone who can make it sing. I, Norma Blue, leave my interest in Davidson to Jo Shuford. I, Peggy Brady, do will and bequeath my quiet man- ner to Betty Crider. I, Val Byrd, leave my funny iokes for Betty Hart- man ' s convenience. We, Martha Ann Capps and Pat Heilig, leave our cat haircuts to Billy Massabeau and Ernestine Russell. We, Fran Carroll and Dulah Carterette, leave our ability to be true to the one and only to Geraldine Valentine and Sue Fowler. I, Jean Crisp, leave my intellectual mind and great leadership ability to Jo Shoaf. I, Betty Floyd, leave my lost articles to whomever found them and my famous last words, Could you tell me if Flight 771 has come in yet? I, Mary Spires, happily take all my belongings back to Miami with me; but if I have left anything lying around, anyone is welcome to it. I, Spud Gathings, leave my petite figure and my ability to get around to Vickie Auman with the warn- ing that she ' ll have to hurry if she covers the ground I did. I, Blanche Gilbert, leave my dynamic personality to Ann McGinnis. I, Iris Walters, leave with pleasure my headaches as canteen manager to Jewel McDaniel. I, Mutt Jenrette, will my ability to get along with people and my meticulous manner to Nancy Murray. I, Pat Hayes, do hereby take with me the Ail- American basketball title, but here at C.M.H. I do leave hope that Willene Deese will follow in my footsteps. I, Carolyn Atwell, leave my ability to laugh at any- thing to Maxine Wallace. I, Joyce Smith, leave my South Carolina drawl to Margaret Ann Pate. I, Martha Ann Neighbors, leave my loquacious man- ner to Jo Burgess. I, Medriath Kiker, leave my photography hobby to anyone who has the camera bug. I, Billie Soles, modestly leave my babyish voice and my come hither eyes to anyone who can use them. I, Nola Kyles, leave my sweet disposition to Joyce Hunt. I, Genny Kimbril, leave my chemical top to anyone who desires that platinum look. I. Peggy Woods, having stayed in hot water these three years, leave the said liquid to Carolyn Mitchem. I, Ruby Steele, do hereby will my studious ability to Helen Cline. I, Ann Stoneham, do bequeath my diamond to Pat Thompson, but she ' ll have to find her own man. L Peggy Jo Davis, leave my carefree manner and gift of gab to Wilma Sipe. I, Joyce Morrison, leave my corny iokes and giggles to Betty McAbee. She is advised to keep them on ice, ready to use at a moment ' s notice. I, Edith Craver, will my good sense of humor to Betty Sewell. I, Ginny Horton, will my sophisticated air to Maxine Jenkins. I, Betty Goodyear, will my love for Pennsylvania men to Doris Rogers. We, Jo Cloniger and Bobbie Webb, leave our poten- tialities as good future wives to Earline Ormsby. I, Peggy Snow, will my strange phone calls from un- known men to anyone who enjoys endless conversation. We, Peggy Royal and Montez Holder, leave our aches and pains from editing this major production to the future editors. May they rest in peace! I, Pauline Wike, will my knitting needles and yarn to Trudy Shepherd. I, Patricia Pittman, will my love of night duty to anyone who is stupid enough to take it. I, Sue McRee, will my ability to argue with a sign post to Susie Hinson. I, Edie Ritter, leave the esteemed title of being so cute to Elise Moose. I, Geraldine Snider, leave my ability to remain re- served and unruffled at all times to Lauretta Ritter. I, Wanda Reid, leave all my many boy friends with the exception of Buddy to the members of the Lonely Hearts Club to be evenly distributed. Signed, sealed and published as the last will and testament of the Senior Class of C.M.H., February 25, 1953. Pat Heilig and Spud Gathings, Testators Witnesses: Joyce Morrison Betty Floyd Page Eight