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

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required to tret up to the fifth floor lor a lesson in the art of manufacturing. On one ol these particular occasions, our tirerl minds ana tired bodies met an irreducible sub- stance. Naturally and without malice we looked for an easy way out. This irrc-i l ible-substance was metallic mercury which had to be incorporated into a mass. The easy way out was a few turns of the pestle and a flip of the mortar which sent the excess mercury down the sink. Another incident that is worthy of mention occurred during our sophomore year. We were notified by the Pharmacy Department to be ready to take an examination covering the contents of the Art of Compounding. As usual, most of us decided on the night before as the time for studying. But, as fate woidd have it. some of us who resided in the Bronx, were destined to cram by candle light, for the power plant had broken down. So you see Abe Lincoln had nothing on us. Grandpa, tell us the funny stories, you know, the ones like Professor H. Taub used to tell you. Well, since you insist, here is one I recall about our English instructor. One day. while attending one of his lectures the class was exceedingly mischiev- ous. The instructor had his back turned to us busily writing on the blackboard. All of a sudden, from the far corner of the room, the twang of a rubber band was heard, and a juicy spitball landed kerplunk on the back of the instructor s head. Above the uproar of the class could be heard the faint mutterings and sputterings ol .ome outside. Ill fight each and every one of you. Then there was the incident that occurred in Central Park in which the Optimistic Pat took a very active part. Following one of our long sessions in the Botany Lab. we decided to get some air. and wound up in the monkey house. Looking at these primates we laughed, but little did we realize that they too were enjoying the scene. One Orang-Outang. however, was disdainful. Tne Simian reared back on bis haunches and carefully spewed forth a torrent of saliva. Pat s right arm went up to the side of his face, he glanced ceilingwards, saw that it couldn t be raining, and then decided it was Irom the Orang-Outang. In our junior year. Mr. P s quiz classes in physiology provided the source of a good deal of our entertainment. There was the time when the question arose as to the meaning of the word chyme. Mort. wbo was so questioned, blurted out without thinking of the consequences, chyme marches on. He got the usual five minutes. Humor blazed forth in the form of a misdirected hotfoot in Professor Lascoff s Eco. Class, due to Rock s desire to relieve the monot- ony. Tbe lighted match never reached its des- tination, but fell to the floor and kindled some scrap papers. The blaze was smothered but a haze filled the room. Our Prof, did not get peeved as might be expected. He calmly said, there is a pyromaniac loose, but babies must play, and con- tinued with his lecture on fire insurance. This blazing humor, which continued in the Chem. Lab. was soon extinguished by Doc ' Lieb- crman. Only the humor of one member of the class remained unquenched. That was Mel who thbt nirrr

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REMINISCENCES ON AN AIR CUSHION It is New Years Eve. 1980. Outside, a slow drizzle fell slantwise against a strong howling wind. Inside all was cozy. 1 was seated in a comfortable air cushion, wrapped in my electric pad solacing myself with a treatise on titanium in the current issue of Chem. Abstracts and drag- ging lazily on my Dunhill. f or. ' ? n «cFot« t- t«« -t.l m after all. what more can an old man of sixty-three, tired but happy, do on such a night. Suddenly the serenity was shattered by a loud oxypnony, followed by the abrupt entrance of my irrepressible grandson with a packet of jaundiced loose-leaf papers under his arm. Grandpa, what are nitrates? ' Nitrates. I said to myself. Nitrates, nitrates, scratching futilely at my bald pate. The term does have a familiar ring, but yet 1 cannot associate it with anything. But. it says here add water and boil till free of nitrates! ' ' Let me see those papers. Snazzy. ' 1 glanced hurriedly at the symbols. Then 1 remembered! It was the old archaic term for what we now commonly call the acid gamma particle. 1 thumbed tenderly through the sheets, absorbed in deep cogitation. They had a familiar touch, and each page awakened a new memory of my early youth in those pioneer days of chemistry— the happy days at pharmacy school. I suddenly became aware that the rest of my grandchildren were gathered around my wide-arm pneumatic, waiting for their customary bed-time story. The years began to roll back to another rainy day and my narrative began. It was the morning of the 17th of September, 1954. when 51 raw recruits gathered together to learn what makes a pill tile. This submissive and docile group (for two weeks at any rate) emerged from their period of orientation into the greatest collection of spatula toting, pill rolling, drugaroos. that ever blighted a professors life. To relate all the mis chievous and frolicsome acts of these rattle-brained scholars would take you far beyond your bedtime hour. However, here are some of the highlights in the career of this class. To begin with, by gosh. 1 11 never forget the day we took the initiative and marched out shoulder to shoulder in a 100% strike against war. The following day the students of the College of Pharmacy were seen in every newsreel across the continent. We were determined not to be the fools of yesterday, but the saviours of tomorrow. Talking about saviors. I recall Mel s. Pittslield s gift to pharmacy, timely eructations during his stay at C. U. C. P. which blasted awake many a sleeping scholar and prevent- ed their ejection from a dreary lecture. Following many of these awakenings, we were 24

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attached the suction pumps to the gas jets, causing the phenomenon of burning water, and smeared capsicum on the tip of his water bottle, which made him the victor of every water bot- tle war. Oiir senior year was a year of triumph for Vic Lewitus, who rose from obscurity. Mr. P ' s five minutes amounted to nothing as com- pared to being thrown out of Mr. Lewitus ' class. Grandpa, how did anybody get back to Mr. Lewitus class? All you did was to go to Equity and if you had clean hands you were readmitted. Is that all. Grandpa? That s all 1 can think of right now, but—. Didn t you have any dances while you were at school? Why yes, our Prom, held, if I recollect correctly, at the Hotel Ambassador, on March 12, of the same year. We enjoyed ourselves immensely, and the memories of that evening still linger on. I never saw so many beautiful women in all my life as 1 did I hat night. Did you meet Grandma there? ' Now now, children, to bed. REBELLION OF THE SENIOR CLASS We have heard of the New Deal Expounded by our Dean with zeal. New Deals may be good for nations But when it deals with education It means that our life at college Will merely be to cram in knowledge. Where before we ambled by Never with a thought to try Any studying until the day Finals came around in May. Now each week there is a test To see who can remember best. Assays, formulas, and such— Well rebel, cause that s too much. We should hold a demonstration To set aside this innovation And in closing just one sigh For the good old days gone by. » 26