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

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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

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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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to keep them out of Miss Vanderbilt ' s office. We got used to riding up to our rooms on ele- vators, and in between hot hours at the beach or on the roof, started Junior Classes, with a fond reminiscing about our recent vacations. As junior students we assumed more responsi- bility on the wards, feeling quite superior when someone else sterilized the thermometers by boiling them. We were pleased to announce that Miss Helen Young and Dr. George Hum- phreys had accepted our invitation to become honorary class members. This year we took charge of the annual Red Cross drive, and initiated the tradition of the Half-Way Party to remind us that a great deal was behind us as well as a great deal ahead. By this time everyone was familiar with nursing care stud- ies (Say, who ' s written a good ENT study?) and had spent some time in the two libraries at our disposal. After the graduation of the Class of 1948 and their various finishing days, we felt very seniorish and even more so when our own little sisters arrived, tanned and enthusias- tic, to be taught the tricks of getting dressed in twenty minutes. October not only marked the welcoming party, but the opening of our first million-maker, the Sample Shop, with everything from salt-shakers to cigarettes. Christmas arrived with the annual caroling through the hospital by candlelight, and de- coration of the windows with paints and holly, angels and wise men. The preliminary students departed in a flurry of snow and suitcases. Soon after their return, the Welcoming Cere- mony marked the official entrance of the Class of 1951 into the School of Nursing. Under the capable chairman, Shirley McKay, the bazaar benefiting the Foster Parents ' Plan for War Children, Inc. was a big success and $1,900 was realized as a result of Maxwell Hall knitting, sewing, baking, and building, assisted by the faculty and graduates. Orals were upon us, and after the pre-exam jitters we realized that we did know something after all (how much bile is manufactured in twenty- four hours?) . Mrs. Mell clucked over our in- creases and decreases in girth while measuring for our graduation stripes , and we went shopping for white shoes to outfit our feet on the big day. The yearbook at last went to press after Kep finally found the missing subscriber (Miss Hush). With the coming of May twelfth, senior festivities really got under way, launched with the traditional class day banquet attended by faculty, supervisors and seniors. Shrimp cock- tail, chicken, and strawberry shortcake high- lighted the menu, and we were promised once more by Mr. Parke that Orthopedic Hospital was on its way uptown. Miss Young, our hon- orary class member, cheered us on, and Miss Lynch was presented with a portable radio in appreciation of her superhuman efforts to guide us to pins and diplomas. After-dinner entertainment was presented in Sturges Audi- torium in the form of a skit and a song, solos by Sue Atwood, and a thank-you spoken by Martha Borden. Somehow we all acquired new bursts of energy with the thoughts of graduation, and spent the week beforehand praying for a bright, clear day, giving up Rayburn and Finch for the weather reports each morning. Our fondest wish was realized and Thursday, June second, arrived gloriously dry and warm. Since we were the first class honored by the pres- ence of President Eisenhower we felt that this day was a very special one indeed, and well worth three years of study and work. The day after graduation saw us wearing blue and white posies instead of graduation corsages as we were accepted into the enthusiastic membership of the Alumnae Association. Who will ever forget the fabulous dinner dance at the Hotel Pierre given by our sister Alumnae or the fact that even the late pass proctor was out until two A.M.? Now, as we await our scattered finishi ng days, we wonder how we did it, and look vainly for that activities record from last August. A year from now, the Class of 1 949 may be forgotten both by predecessors and followers, but we hope that we have left some memories for others to in part replace the many we are taking with us. As graduates of the Presbyter- ian Hospital School of Nursing, we remain in- ordinately fond of our school, our hospital and the friends and experiences acquired in the process of becoming alumnae. G.L.B. 30