Columbia University School of Nursing - Yearbook (New York, NY)

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-«•::. : Cut Stony Although it seems like yesterday, it was ' way back in September 1946 when a valiant band of ' 49ers arrived in Maxwell Hall to begin the quest for something far more en- riching than gold — a career in nursing. We arrived by subway, bus, and Hudson Tube loaded with everything from suitcases to saxo- phones, and, of course, the ever-essential black shoes and stockings, watches and foun- tain pens. After a hearty welcome from our big sisters in the form of a tea, and an intro- duction to the twists and turns of our home to be for the next three years, the 104 girls in gray settled down to liven up the place (or so we thought) . Quickly assimilated into the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, having been guided around the isle by Miss Rathbun, we soon got into the routine of early breakfast and room duty , and were able to get dressed in the amazing speed of twenty minutes, de- spite the tourniquet action of the high white collar and the inevitable broken shoelace. The jump from eggs-a-la-goldenrod to sheep ' s eye dissection was hard on some, and Dr. Rogers ' cadaver demonstrations will always outrank The Return of Frankenstein in our sensitive memories. Classes sped on, pleasantly pre- faced by the skit and party given by the ever- encouraging Class of 1947. (We didn ' t know about the O.R. then!) We were given bandage scissors which were lost and found, exchanged and forgotten, and continually searched for for the following six months. In addition to our vigorous scholastic pro- gram. Miss Rathbun assumed charge of our shapeless forms with swimming, (did some- one ' s notes get dripped on?) gymnastics and folk dancing, and the beloved infrequent les- sons in relaxation. Nursing Arts was in full swing and we were all given a bed bath the day the painters were doing the outside of the demonstration room windows. The transition from classroom to ward (where the patients were a little more flexible) was passed through

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Editor-in-Chief . MARY REUTTER Assistant Editor ELIZABETH BUNTING Circulation Editor LOIS KEPPLER Photography Editor NELLIE WALTER Art Editor LUCY NICHOLS Business Manager EVA LeGROW COMMITTEE MEMBERS Circulation Typists Elyse Campbell Olive Benn Frances Hil ler Elizabeth Cooper Photography Elizabeth Guy Annie Bullick Marilyn Jones Phyllis Partridge Literary Anne Bethell Geraldine Bishop Shirley Carlson Audrey Kimball Shirley McKay Mary Reynolds Joan Roberts

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with a minimum of upsets and we recovered from looking wildly around when someone called, Nurse! . We toyed with the idea of putting balloons on our hair nets to keep it off the collar , although some wielded the scissors in desperation. Miss Lynch became the class adviser and to the amazement of all did not acquire a grey hair over our trials, tribulations and antics for the remainder of three years. The class assumed responsibility for the Wednesday afternoon teas and enjoyed the first informal dance. Just before Thanksgiving, examinations began and our heads reeled with the facts and figures required and the skills to be demon- strated. We were soon measured for stripes and left for a week ' s vacation at Christmas. On return some began full time experience on the wards while the rest continued with the last few weeks of classes. We learned to mix castor oil cocktails or change dressings de- pending on which service had us under its wing. The Welcoming Ceremony was an in- spiration to all, and the morning after, in deference to the additions to our professional wardrobes, we proudly stood inspection as full fledged members of the School of Nursing. Freshman classes began and each week a few of us sheepishly retrieved notebooks that had been confiscated from the dining-room shelves. The chosen few on relief or night duty got used to Rissole potatoes for break- fast and our first year as Presbyterian students sped past, punctuated with the spring formal and our Big Sisters ' Bazaar and Graduation. Vacations arrived (and were used up) with an unbelievable rapidity, and we saw in September the Class of 1950 re-enacting our struggles with hair, collars and the broken shoelaces at 7:45 A.M. That year, as jaunty juniors we were given a morale booster by the announcement of the forty-four hour week, and began special serv- ices with fresh notebooks and a determination