University of Southern California School of Dentistry - El Molaro (Los Angeles, CA)

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T' EMILY ALTER 7 'X , Los Angeles, California i U.S.C. , Give up . . . l won't smile! Emily, one of the class redheads,lhas dedicated herself to three things: Sleep, Education and a combination of the two. The commuter of all commuters, she rises at an early hour and to compensate for lost sleep, kept a blanket in her car, and slept to and from school as her Father chauffered. As a senior, she changed her tactics and went to bed at eight p.m. Her second dedi- cation to education, will find her at U,.C.L.A., of all places, working toward a Masters degree in Public Health. Emmy served as Scholarship chairman, was a member 'of Spurs and AKG. We are looking forward to reading of her achievements in Public Health in Bolivia, in a few years. Ackie Jarnclt is another of our frantic freeway frequenters. Every morning for two years she has fired up her trusty Ford and crept along, side by side, with two million grouchy commuters. Jackie, however, is no grouch, on the contrary, her sweet disposition and helpful attitude has made her one, of our favorite people. Jackie is a gal with many talents. Charming hostess, superb cook and expert in mathematics. Her talent in Mathematics grew out of the necessity to help her monsters with their homework. Her experience as a dental assistant coupled with her natural ability with things digital will prove to be valuable assets in her dental hygiene career.'Jackie ,plans to work close to home for awhile before doing some traveling. She has college educations in view for the kids and is already boning up on advanced algebra. We call it hedge-trimming, not bushwackingf' ? k JACQUELINE ARNDT t Inglewood, California .. X i X El Camino l i I

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FOREWORD We were strangers, but there was a feeling of excitement common to all, that morning 2 years ago, as we entered the doors of 635 Exposition. We anticipated the unfamiliar and unexpected, and not even the odor from the room at the head of the stairs failed to dampen our spirits. We were warned by our big sisters but shrugged it off with a casual, No sweat! l've been getting A's without even trying. lf we limit our social life to the weekend, we'll have no problems. Looking back, this bit of naivete may seem ridiculous, but at the time it was a blessing in disguise. Without it, we might never have crossed the threshold. As it was, it took us half a semester to fully realize what we had gotten ourselves into. No sweat! ? We did more sweating than sleeping. lt wasn't that the work was so difficult, but there was so much of it! We learned many things, but most of all, how to cope with frustration. Wait 'til next year, was the worn out phrase that kept us all going. A reflection upon a few hysterical but historical echoes from our Junior year starts with The Great Deception: the class schedule which only our Histo lab meeting twice a week, not six . . . Our Brief Class Votes 'which consumed a lunch hour and nearly ended in violence. lt's a miracle everyone went to the same place for our ditch day . . . The Girls in Bacteriology Lab who couldn't tell a cotton stopper from the hair on their heads . . . Mannequin Mornings: front, back, front, or is it back, front, back? Whoops, shreaded gooms! Big Mother is watching you! . . . The Hand-Me-Down Bio-Chem Labs that met in the lounge . . . The Histo Coffee Machine which dispensed a liquid that looked like coffee, smelled like hot chocolate, and tasted like chicken soup . . . Neoplasm Mania: all the once-beloved moles we claimed as beauty marks suddenly became ugly and potentially malignant papillomas. . . . Men: the great social potential we spent a year with, hardly saw, and much less ever spoke to. Unfortunately, our contacts were limited to the slamming of lockers during chem lecture, the stampede into the prosthetics lab, the back-row chatter during Harrison's lectures, the disarranged histo slides, and the empty slots when exams were near. However, we did speak to their scab boxes, though not very nicely. They were rough on unprotected shins .... Along with these we employed a few defense mechanisms to circumvent the pressures accompanying our absorption of knowl- edge: some girls gained weight, twice as many lost . . . the socialties were forced to choose the companionship of a microscope, while the social conservatives were reported missing to the FBI . . . half the class mastered the first acting skill of looking confident when bewildered, the other half developed the ability to sleep in class . . . one girl began to curl her hair, but most of us devel- oped inferior right lateral complexes . . . dowdy, dirty lab coats with skull bag accessories were in fashion . . . the one effect common to all of us was our adoption of Islam, but instead of bowing to Mecca daily, we bowed toward 34th St. With all this, the positive result of our busy year was that time passed quickly. Suddenly we had our caps and only finals lay between us and the unsuspecting patient. Our Senior year, otherwise known as the year of the Calculus Crusade, held great hopes that it would be as light as our first year had been hard. From the very beginning, it lived up to our expectations at least in part when our issue was light in hand as well as on the wallet. The list of our courses seemed somewhat disconcerting until we found they were all only one unit. Imagine being able to understand a complete lecture, to not sit through 45 minutes of factual enlightenment without seeing any light. The clarity applied to all but one instance: many of us are still trying to figure out what a moribund patient is. The most difficult of our courses was the one given by the O.D. department, represented by a camel-less courier in an acidophilic turban who kept us on our toes. Hours were another matter entirely. Three o'clock afternoons are numbered, we were warned, and this was no understatement. We changed into our civilian clothes so late in the day that the only weather we experienced was that which we read in the papers. Of course, our windowless world had its advantages, that is, in case of an atomic attack. The scarcity of men in our Junior year was more than compensated for by having an abundance of them in our Senior lectures. The privilege had been granted however, not to protect our civil liberties or to improve our extracurricular activities, but because it was found that the female element cleaned up the lectures and raised the imalel behavior level. This proved to be a gross inac- curacy, for the lectures were always punctuated with boo's, hisses, grumbles, and assorted gobble gobbles. To compensate for more men in our classes, we had less homework than in our Junior year. It was lighter both literally and figuratively, and some- what domestically inclined. lt consisted mostly of the laundering of spattered uniforms badly in need of depumising. We realized we were existing in the calm before State Boards, but the midnight oil was stored and exercises for the atrophied non-microscopic eye were given up. Our home-away-from-home was unique in many ways. lt was called a lounge but served as a hideout. The caps and uniforms, and the industrious clicking of knitting needles reminded one of the maternity ward in a hospital. Like the 901, it smelled of alcohol but with overtones of lanowhite, and it looked like, well, before or after Minnie had been there? Of course, the year was not without its own particular difficulties, for example: resisting the impulse to dump the contents of our clinic cases onto the floor and screaming. My kingdom for a prophy brush! Then there was also the seemingly unyielding clinic C barrier. Anything would be a welcome end to the frustration, even if it meant letting yourself be overheard saying to a patient. Pyorrhea is prevented because we scraaapppppeeeee the tartar from under the gooms with our scalers. Obstacles though they were then, they will soon become memories recalled with a smile. Along with these will be cherished the friendships that we've made and the lifetime bonds that we've formed. They have become so much a part of us that even on the day of graduation when separate ways lie ahead, See you tomorrow will seem as natural and appropriate a farewell as it has each day for the last two years. l3l

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LESLIE AVERILL Chula Vista, California U.S.C. So you think you've got problems? Leslie is one of the most fun-loving and vivacious members of our class. Her flaming red hair and out-going personality have a unique and mysterious way of charming all the men she meets. She loves parties, good martinis and mature men, hates being called Les, bad martinis and immature men. Leslie was the one girl who could laugh at Dr. Soule's lectures. Leslie spent four years at S.C. and was a member of Chi Omega and AKG. After June, Leslie can be found basking in the sophisticated and cos- mopolitan atmosphere 'of San Francisco where, in between busy weekends, she will devote her days to promoting good dental hygiene in some fortunate private practioner's office. Linda can be recognized by her striking hazel eyes and easy going disposition. ln times of crisis, e.g. our Junior year, Linda remains outwardly calm and collected. Her vocalizations in histology lab proved to be tranquilizing on all those around her. Her dental assisting experience came in handy upstairs where she surprised a few patients and dental students with an uncallecl for shower with the hydrocolloid hose. Among her other talents is her ability to iron a certain dental student's shirts. In June, and after the trauma of State Boards, she will be heading back to West Covina for a stab at private practice. My goodness, everyone is gone but us! l I E . . ., . 1.15.- . ,w1'T' 'V 1 4 LINDA CARRICO West Covina, California Pepperdine