Faulkner Hospital School of Nursing - Faulkan Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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SYLVIA ANN SMITH 101 Washington Street East Walpole, Massachusetts July 28, 1936 You can't tell a book by its cover. This old line suits our Smitty to a T Her sweet and innocent appearance is misleading when Sylvia begins to talk. Her excited and high pitched voice will long be remembered by her classmates as well as the many laughs that were connected with it. Although an only child, Sylvia has proven her- self unspoiled by adopting weekend sisters. Smitty has been the envy of many with her ivory complexion and shiny black hair. This for- tunate combination along with a petite figure cer- tainly adds to the Faulkner uniform. Have you been hiding any sponges in your tough cases lately? ?? Sylvia will certainly be a welcome addition to the staff of any O.R. in the future. Sweet And Lovely Smitty YEARBOOK STAFF E. Munchback, Ang B. Lewis, Litemryg N. Penrod, Edizarg K. Doherty, Co-edizorg B. Niederberger Adz1erzi.firzg,' R. Locke, Photography, Art. V 9

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CLASS HISTORY Remember that September afternoon in ,54 When we darted anxiously through Chapin House door. A group of anticipating girls from different parts and locales Who were soon to become a class of steadfast pals. After having our tea and helping our parents disperse I wonder if we realized in attaining the goal of a nurse The loyal friends, the work, joy and tears That we would encounter together in the next three years. We had hardly started to unpack our suitcase When initiation began at a very rapid pace. Our air-raid bags were filled with an unmentionable lot Which at the command of a senior we had to drop. Our first week of classes, confusion entered our mind For we took so many courses of most every kind. Chemistry, Anatomy, Pharmacology and Nursing Arts From which we discovered our books played a part. Study hours, proctors and first time on the wards Where we learned the real purpose of a patient's bell cord. Christmas vacation was upon us at last But as soon as it started it seemed it had passed. A spaghetti supper for faculty, parents and friends And the money we made We raffled afghans. We were reaching the end of our probie days. And to pass those finals there must be Ways!! The night of capping we marched up the aisle With a sigh from the faculty and from our parents a smile. Twenty-four proud students in starched aprons and blues And the caps placed on our heads fitted perfectly too.