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

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GREG GANNAM. D.D.S. Honore Dc Balzac stated, There ' s never any point in telling had news in a hurry. Goofns has dropped the hail so inaiiy , .. one is sure which team he ' s playing for. Word has it that after graduation he will replace K.O. Turner. Alun-: with this. Greg will carry on further research in the medium of barnacle cements. Shorts was ohscrved during Soph. Endodontics, a|)|)lying his patient with a seldom seen facial douche from his zonite syringe. Cassanova, often noted for his many sorties to County General, has taken up hand instrumentation. Greg ' s clinical endeavors can best be described in the quote by Michel Eyquem De Montaigne, Of what u.-ic are colours to some one who does not know how to paint. Though Greg has provided some of the lighter moments of the la. it four years, he has ])r( ided also a more iniporlant qiiantltx. dependable friendship.

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JOSEPH FYANS III, D.D.S. lome town of Salt Lake City. Joe was encouraged to go into dentistry: Once you get into dental school you ' ve got it made, and after that it ' s just easy money. Joe found he enjoyed dental school so much that he tripped down his staircase to injure his back, just so he could have another year at it. But, alas all good things come to an end! While in school Joe and his attractive wife, Carol, witnessed their family double in size with the appearance of Tiffiny and Christine. He kept them fed while improving his skills as a part-time janitor. One speculative thought: How many of his 9 o ' clock patients really knew he was scrubbing toilets at 8 o ' clock? For the easy money he will probably migrate once more to the Rocky Mountains, where, after-all, if he tires of the plush life, there is always a demand for part-time janitors!

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PAUL GAUTHIER, D.D.S. HIGH FLIGHT lave slipped the surly bonds of earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunwa rd I ' ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds . . . and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of . . . wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov ' ring there, I ' ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air. Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I ' ve topped the windswept heights with easy grace Where never lark, or even eagle flew. And, while with silent, lifting mind I ' ve trod The high untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.