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

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A Marvin Sodicoff, Ph.D. Each Noble Bates lecture was a shandean adventure which sporadically got around to retinas, embryos and the like. Bates had pictures of everything; digressions, lascivious fantasies, anecdotes, ob-scure name drops-all were abundantly illustrated with slides. His entertaining ramblings never quite hid his wide and current familiarity with his field. To Dr. Phillips, the electron microscope was almost as important a device as the Carousel projector to Bates. Though just slightly more reticent than the mean for our anatomists, Steve Phillips shared the departmental humor and-needless to say —scientific accomplishment. Drs. Pratt and Sodicoff, the youngsters, already displayed what seemed to be the two main qualifications for residence on the sixth floor—namely, knowing much anatomy and occasionally acting whimsically. Marvin was less interesting in front of the lecture hall than in the audience, where he used to fill pages of notebooks with carefully sketched faces looking in every direction. Finally, Roger Davidheiser was a kind of departmental pineal gland: accepted as part of the structure, his function was never quite clear. Neal E. Pratt, Ph.D.

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Steven J. Phillips, M.D. M. Noble fates. Ph.D.

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Lorenzo Rodriguez-Peralta. M.D. Gail S. Crouse, Ph.D. Never again, Thank God, did we ever participate in so many exams as during that first semester! The gross practical, a kind of necrotic square-dance, was so choreographed that most got through it, though few gracefully. The pages of the writtens were as distinctive as their authors, with Crouse's and Rod's (the latter forever obsessed, for some reason, with inscrutably anastamosing arteries) always the crunchers. Daddy Huber's picture page, as all the world knows, came at just the right place in the exam, and abject was he who loused it up! Anatomy exams always came on Friday, as surely as the hospital cafeteria's clam chowder. Dr. Fred Rogers, the amiable and scholarly redhead who amazed and amused us with his excellent medical history series, remarked one week that . .. I used to give my course on Saturday mornings, but nobody came; now I have Thursday afternoons—foiled again! Indeed, toward the end of the semester, when exams were almost weekly, the Thursday matinees in Medical History and Psychiatry were pretty lonely sessions. Roger H. Davidheiser, Ph.D.