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

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The Class of 1985 is pleased to honor the following individuals for excellence in teaching and clinical instruction at PCPM. Best Clinician Dr. Bill Martin Best Professor Dr. Kieran Mohan

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YEARBOOK STAFF Fourth Year M. Bustler. D. Crider. M DeFranco, K. Fink. H. Gentile. M. Jacko, J. Kerzncr. L. Lardner. B Leon. S. Love. M. Maulucci, E Pappas. 5. Pempiti. S Reilly. R Renzi, C Schluckebter. L. Ziman ThuJ Year L Shapiro. P Agner. D Powell Second Year B Breiner D Duffy A Goel K Newman 6

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The History Of The Class: Part One 1. Do the Cadavers Really Stink? Since none of the historians were fortunate or stupid enough to have attended SARP, we re not going to tell you about it. The CLASS of 1985 was born on or about September 5,1981. And what a diverse group it was: I'm from Marlton . . . that's in New Jersey, not Mars.” There were Nittanny Lions, Blue Hens, Scarlet Knights, Terrapins, Contes and other assorted and varied creatures; all about to be converted to NERDS from PCPM. And who better to initiate the conversion than Jan There's a Pony in There Somewhere Hoffer, Jim I'll be seeing some of you again at graduation Bates, and Charles Cibney Boot. Room 318 rapidly became our home from 9 to 5. Territorial rights were quickly established. Rick ‘Captain Video Groves and Mitch Hari Krishna Silverman staked out their seats in the front row. A small band of compulsive-psychotic pre-meds found themselves comfortable in the front, while the majority of us longed for the anonymity of the back rows. Oui first term comsisted of a conglomeration of courses that would prove vital to our future careers. The Secrets of the Cell and the Mysteries of the Macrophage were unraveled for us in (almost) inimitable fashion by Dr. Frank Conway. Some of the finer points of Histology proved difficult for some of us to comprehend; shown a slide of the Vas deferens and asked in what organ its contents were normally seen. The King of Porn left Dr. Conway speechless for the first and only time by replying: The esophagus. Our initial exposure to podiatry was provided by the KID from GEORGETOWN, Donnie Lyons. INTRO to NOD taught us the value of: high-topped shoes, skipping class to study, mid-morning naps and sucking up to podiatrists who might be able to help us get a residency in the future. We even learned the difference between Paul Bunyan and Bunions (like on your toes!). Of course, no description of our first term could be complete without a thorough dissection of Coach Harrington and his ever-faithful side-kick, The Samoan. We are all indebted to The Coach for: 1) Constantly reminding us how dumb we all really were; 2) But reminding us how we could overcome this handicap by holding securely onto the Pencil of Knowledge; 3) While if all else failed, answering around the fourth week when in doubt would probably suffice. The Coach was a firm believer in time-outs; he took time-out of lectures and time-out of labs. He also took his time in getting out the Em-biyo handouts. We never quite understood his explanations for the delay, perhaps because he had a mouthful of glans penis, I mean, LANCE PEANUTS. Thank God for Bob The Running Professor Boyd, without whom we never would have been able to fathom the complexities of the brachial plexus or the 6th green at Merion. Tests were administered every two weeks by the faculty: Q: What is the Velum Interpositum? A: A. 1 and 3 are correct B. Always guess B if unsure. C. I haven't answered C in a while. D. If it's not B , it’s probably D E. It's never E . you cretin. 1. A position in the Kama Sutra. 2. Exit 105 off the Schuykill 3. The wine that Judy Rae carries around in those bags all the time. 4. A sperm bank in California. 5. Who cares? Tests were followed by a weekend of debauchery, liver damage, and attending any class. Chris The Boy Ferraro proved that the admissions committee was far from infallable: 0 preparation of challenges to the more inane question. The first term was not without its casualties. David Oppenheim earned the admiration of us all by never once I did good, I did good. No mother, 46 wasn't the lowest grade in the class. We quickly adapted to the rigors of life at PCPM. Some of us spent long, hard hours plunging into our interests at the Jefferson Library, while many of us studied there too! One of the big adjustments to life at PCPM was the necessity of relying on a note service. There were two ways of looking at the note service: you were either grateful that they provided so much information to learn or you were pissed off that they provided so much information to learn. Q. What is the definition of a millionth of a second? A. 1. The time it took for Sharon Beller to get to the front of the note service line. 2. The time it took for Fran Quinn to scream HI-HATS after the overheads were turned off. 3. The time it took for Brad Toll's digestive system to make its presence known to the class following a late night at Doc's. Final exams loomed menacingly on the horizon. Dave Psycho Baskwill demanded that we be tested on everything we had learned since the 3rd grade. The class - tired, dazed, and confused amid the pressures of our first set of final exams, elected class officers. Face it, we screwed up. 2. This ain't no party, this ain't no disco . . . The 2nd semester opened with a pep rally featuring our head cheerleader, Ho-Ho. We were congratulated for our stellar performance 1st trimester, and warned that instead of