Temple University School of Medicine - Skull Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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FRESHMAN YEAR

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CO this was medical school; this was the Temple University School of Medicine. Monday morning, July 2. 1945, and we were sitting on the sixth door waiting for our first class to begin. The room was noisy with the voices of people getting acquainted, with laughter and questioning. We had descended on Gerry Deemer in the hook store just a few days ago, heckling her for 100ms to rent; asking “What hooks do we need, ma'am?’” And then trudged the dirty streets in search of a hed and a desk, during the hottest summer Philadelphia had seen in years. We had talked briefly to awesome upperclassmen, some of us. and been told blithely, “It’s no so had— tougher than undergrad, hut you will make it.” Now, one by one, we turned to stare into the window across the areaway where Russel was busy embalming a fat white man whose umbilicus ballooned dangerously. There was a horrid fascination in the sound of the little pump, in the wail of the circular saw as he removed the calvarium. And in the silence of watching, Dr. John Franklin Huber entered the room, followed by four men and a woman, all in long white coats. We were about to begin. He stood behind the long black table, hooked his fool over the central rung, smiled a smile that some of us called friendly and the rest interpreted as glacial, and spoke the first words to us as a class. “I want to welcome you.” he said, “to the medical profession, and especially to the study of anatomy. The years before you are not so difficult that a person of average intelligence cannot get through, if he spends the time necessary to learn well. While he talked we looked him over, for this was the professor of anatomy. He was much younger than we had expected, with sparkling ey es and his black hair slic ked back and shining. X ith all the poise of a man who knows and likes what he’s doing, he continued, Don’t listen to what the upperclassmen have to say—they II only confuse you. And if you get worried, just remember that hundreds of other people have accomplished what you’ve set out to do and that we’re here to help sou with your problems. Don't he afraid to come to us. At the time, we were afraid to believe that what Dr. Huber had said about his being behind the students was true, hut as the year progressed we were to discover that it was. Here was a man. a teacher at heart, who was more cognizant of our tribulations than any other. He was sympathetic with our shortcomings, and possessed, moreover, the tact and insight necessary to help us overcome them. Tuesday, in chemistry, we met Dr. Robert (fa r n squar ) Hamilton. Ilis little introductory speech was not. however, encouraging, for before many minutes had elapsed, he drawled. “There's no doubt that some of you won’t be with us next year. Now. we don't like to fail people, hut sometimes we just can’t see our way clear . . .” We were perfectly willing to believe that, for we’d heard that most of the freshman l.cft: New students, new cadavers, more work for Russel. Center: l)r. John Franklin Huber, Professor of Anatomy. Right: Looking over the new freshmen—Drs. Weston. Kimmel. Moyer, and Huber. 11