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

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46' 7’OU don’t refer to them as bugs ' an-nounced Dr. Kolmer as he shook his em-phasizing finger. lifted his left eyebrow, and peered over his spectacles at us, the new sophomores. Thus he introduced us to this course called bacteriology. Impressed, we eagerly set out to find how and why these little hugs did whatever they did. Throughout the first trimester, Dr. Kolmer and his assistants, Drs. Spaulding and Bondi, maneuvered us past cocci, bacilli, spores, saprophytes, yeasts and molds, and Cod knows what, pausing at each just long enough to convince us that we had it. After the long six-month vacation we had just completed, most of us were a bit skeptical and hesitant about exposing our sun-tanned forms to those devitalizing little beasts that came at us from all directions— tubes, cultures, broths, rabbits, guinea pigs, the walls and desks, our lab partners. Not that we were nervous the first few days we knew careful technique eliminated danger. So we didn't worry when we missed the test tube and inoculated our index finger, merely got spastic, spilled broth all over the desk, and rushed to the sink to splash the stuff all over North Philadelphia 40. Pa. But Dr. Spaulding and the lab instructors were patient and forgiving, and gradually the static sophomores began to see light behind all that Gicmsa stain. Dr. Kolmer kept us well acquainted with two gents named Jordan and Burroughs by punctuating his lectures with questions from the text and a written quiz first thing each Monday morning. All too rapidly came the day when we had to fathom what kinds of bugs swam leisurely around the tube of broth we were given as our final unknown—which meant we had reached the end of the course. We were just slightly frantic at first, since we weren't too confident of our methods. If some little Bacillus went scooting across the slide, doing a Rutter kick and spouting water like a twelve-year-old in the old swimming hole, we were fairly sure the thing was motile, but beyond that, certainty was lagging. But with the patient assistance of Tony Lamberti and Liz Marly, in addition to the regulur staff plus a couple dozen fermentation tubes, six or eight cultures, endless smears and stains, and a couple of good guesses, all was well. Continuing from our freshman year. Dr. Op-penheimer. et al.. revealed more of the mysteries of physiology. We had even bigger kymograph records to smear against one another. It never ceased t » he a source of amazement, after attaching all sorts of gadgets to an anesthetised dog in an advanced slate of surgery, to go to lunch and return to find the dog not only living and well, but all the apparatus still working . . . sometimes. Suddenly our complacency was shattered by the entrance of Dr. Livingston. Dr. Larson. Dr. Fellows, the USP, National Formulary, Goodman and Gilman, thousands of little bottles and smelly chemicals and all that goes with it . . . pharmacology. Dr. Livingston strolled into the lecture hall, placed a well dog-eared copy of The Book on the desk, cleared his throat, and Left: Graham. Hawes, ami Peters examine culture plates. C.rhter: Dr. Earl Spaulding . . . bacteria ho mystery. Right: Kirkpatrick. Kirk, and Montrlconc eathetcrize a femoral under Mr.-. Weston's watchful eye. 19