Memories
Kenneth D. Shanklin, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1967
Plastic Surgeon
I have wonderful memories of being the first class to use the University Medical Center for our clinical years of training and its proximity to the mountains I loved.
I also remember the nightmares I had nightly for several weeks after our class started cadaver dissection anatomic training. Then, for an unknown reason, these nightmares ended as abruptly as they started. I thought for a period that I would have to drop out of medical school.
J. Charles Rich, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1965
Retired Neurological Surgeon
In the fall of 1965 I had just graduated from the U of U School of Medicine and was a surgical intern at Johns Hopkins Hospital. Dr. Max Wintrobe was the Visiting Professor at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine that fall and his secretary had called ahead asking if I would kindly assemble "our Utah medical students and house officers" in the Baltimore area so that he could meet with us. Jasmine and I were in a 10th floor apt in the 550 Bldg directly across the street from the hospital and we complied. Wives included, there was a Fellow at NIH in Bethesda, a medical student each from U of Maryland and Hopkins, Jay Jensen, who was a medical intern at Hopkins from my medical class and me.
Dr. Wintrobe genuinely wanted to know what each of us was doing then and what we planned to do. He was great -- what a class act he was. Dr. Victor McKusick came to our door to pick up Dr. and Mrs. Wintrobe to take them to some function that evening. "Sit down, Victor," I remember Dr. Wintrobe saying, "I haven't finished with these young people." And, Dr. McKusick did, cheerfully, sit there as the interviews and advice continued until we were through. At a national level, Dr. Wintrobe represented medical excellence. All of us he taught and in whom he took an interest, therefore, enjoyed directly the benefits of his sterling reputation. To my generation of University of Utah School of Medicine students he was a remarkably generous and loyal mentor. More than any other teacher, he made the greatest impression on me.
Dana Carroll, Ph.D.
Professor and Chair
Department of Biochemistry
University of Utah School of Medicine
Don Summers was hired in 1974 to chair the Department of Microbiology. He and his wife, Ellie Ehrenfeld, initiated the wave of modern molecular biological research at the School of Medicine. I arrived in 1975 as one of their original recruits.
In 1977 we decided that the department needed a new name that described more accurately the research we were doing and that would be attractive to prospective graduate students. Sherwood Casjens suggested that we call the department "Stanford," as that was a name that conveyed immediate prestige. In due course we chose "Cell and Molecular Biology," but this was opposed by the Biology Department, which had a division of the same name, for fear of confusion. A committee was appointed to resolve the issue and, after much deliberation, came up with "The Department of Cellular, Viral and Molecular Biology." This always reminded me of the old joke that a camel is a horse designed by a committee – Viral being the hump in this case.
When the proposed name was presented to the Microbiology faculty, Dan Kolokofsky and I suggested that this name was much too long and embarrassing and recommended that we retain the name Microbiology. Realizing the effort it had taken to get even to this point, Don glared at us and emphatically stated, "If you say that outside this room, I’ll kill you." The name was adopted, and the department was affectionately known as CVMB for many years. After Don and Ellie left the U, it morphed into the Department of Oncological Sciences, the academic home of the Huntsman Cancer Institute. I wonder what its next embodiment will be.
John W. Emmett, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1952
Radiology
I remember all the softball and football games at noon before I would sleep through the pathology lectures in the "temporary" wooden Army building behind the main building.
L. George Veasy
SOM Graduate 1946
Professor of Pediatrics and Adjunct Professor of Medicine (Retired)
Emeritus Professor of Pediatrics
Because of the small number of full-time clinical faculty during the early years (mid-1940’s) of our four year school, much of the teaching of students and housestaff was done by the voluntary clinical faculty. Fortunately, in the relatively small population of Salt Lake City, there were several remarkably accomplished physicians in private practice who proved to be talented teachers. Among this group was Dr. N. F. Hicken, a gifted general surgeon who practiced at the LDS Hospital and who was regarded by his peers as the best gall bladder surgeon in the community. He was also known as a fast talker which was most evident in his lectures to medical students.
On this particular occasion, one of my classmates (not to be named) had fallen asleep. He was sitting on the second row bench of the auditorium (a converted chapel) in the "Infirmary Building". Dr. Hicken, without breaking the cadence of his rapid delivery stepped onto the second step of the elevated seating, stooped and kissed my classmate on the cheek. As he stepped down to the front of the auditorium without missing a beat, said, "Wake up, sweetheart! It doesn’t cost a damn dime to stay wide awake in this world!"
Richard A. Aldous, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1956
Ophthalmology; Private Practice
Dr. Davenport was conducting an experiment in Physiology Class in which he had to get a student totally rattled in order to demonstrate some physiological principles (change of vital signs, etc.). He began his lecture by saying that doctors should be cultured people and that he would probably fail any student who was not well versed in the cultural arts. He then looked directly at Stuart Datt and said, "Datt, name five operas by Verdi."
Stuart (instead of turning into a basket case) calmly recited more than five operas by Verdi. The challenge did not even increase his heart rate. Dr. Davenport's experiment was totally ruined. What he did not realize was that Stuart was an accomplished musician and an expert in opera, having grown up in New York City where he had regularly attended the Metropolitan Opera.
J. Charles Rich, M.D.
Chief Medical Officer, 2002 Salt Lake Winter Olympic Games
Member, IOC Medical Commission
University of Utah School of Medicine Class of '65
Soon after Salt Lake City secured the 2002 Winter Olympic Games, IHC (Scott Parker) invited the UUHSC (John Matsen) to partner with them by providing those health care services that would occur on the U. of Utah campus. Implementing that considerable task fell, subsequently, to Bernie Machen, Lorris Betz, Merle Sande, Mark Elstad and William Holt. They assembled an exceptional UUHSC medical team, oversaw the construction of the Olympic Athletes Village and built the Polyclinic into the first floor of the Guest House. It is the only Olympic Games Polyclinic ever situated within a couple of hundred yards of a world-class academic medical center and it came in for special recognition.
During the Games, the IOC Medical Commission meets nightly at 10 PM reviewing the events of each day. The thirty-four or so physicians in attendence represent all five continents and had oversight of Doping as well as healthcare delivery. Well after midnight on the next to last night of the Games, Dr. Lundqvist, Chairman, asked for any new business before adjournment. Johann Koss, former mutliple gold medal speedskater, now orthopedic surgeon and Athlete's Commission delegate to our Medical Commission raised his hand and turned his microphone light on. "I just want to say, having been to several Olympic Games as an athlete and member of the IOC Medical Commission, that this is the best polyclinic I have seen. Best facilities: best rapport with all the team physicians; and best access to state-of-the-art medical care and technical support -- in diagnosis and treatment. Medically, it's not going to get any better than this."
That is high praise, indeed. As I told Bernie, "You all hit a home-run."
Bob Greensides, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1976
Pediatric Cardiology
I remember flunking my first anatomy quiz and having Dr. Hashimoto call me and several others into his office. He lights his pipe and tells us all to relax, have fun, you're all worrying too hard - what a relief!
G. Paul Doxey, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1980
Otolayrnogology – Head and Neck Surgery
My favorite rotation was on OB-GYN and I really liked the gross anatomy with “Sasquatch,” our cadaver.
There were also some teachers and professors at the school who were inspirational. I shall never forget Dr. Hashimoto and his lectures.
Joseph M. Heath, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1958
Family Practice
We were in our first year, very green, and very apprehensive, wondering if we were going to make the grade. The first class of the day was physiology. No one will forget the towering, demanding professor, Horace Davenport. Every contact with him brought a combination of respect and fear. He usually let us know that he was condescending to be teaching freshman medical students away from his beloved Oxford.
One morning during the first few weeks of medical school, Herb Spencer and I walked together, rather hurriedly, as we were a bit late to physiology. As we walked in the darkened room, the class had already started. For the first time Dr. Davenport was not teaching the class, I blurted out to Herb quite audibly, "Where's Horace?"
When my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I looked around, my heart went in my throat. Horrified, I discovered that "Horace" was seated directly behind us.
This story has a postlude. I began to feel that my days in medical school may be numbered. We had a hard test in physiology and were awaiting the results. A few days later, we were in the physiology lab. I was "wired" with all the paraphernalia to measure pulse, respiration, and blood pressure under different conditions. Dr. Davenport walked by in his white coat, and suddenly asked in his authoritative, Oxfordian voice, "Heath, do you really think you can make it through medical school?" It was the best example of the day of the effect of emotions on vital signs.
P.J. Peterson, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1976
Internal Medicine
Being a female with 96 "brothers," I always felt well treated and accepted by our classmates. Probably the best memory is presenting my research project at the National Meeting in Carmel, California.
Dana Carroll, Ph.D.
Professor and Chair
Department of Biochemistry
University of Utah School of Medicine
My memory concerns Curtis Atkin, who was Research Assistant Professor of Internal Medicine (Hematology) and of Biochemistry for many years. He was a scientist's scientist, always curious, always eager to learn how the world works.
Curt Atkin was born in Salt Lake City in 1942. As a boy, in approximately 1950, he visited the SoM as a patient, and was seen by Frank Tyler. He had early symptoms of Alport's Syndrome, a genetic disease that ultimately leads to kidney failure, loss of hearing, and a variety of other complaints. Curt thus became a subject in one of the earliest genetic disease studies at the U.
Curt was obviously a bright student. He obtained his bachelor's degree in Chemistry at Caltech in 1964, and a Ph.D. in Biochemistry at the University of California at Berkeley in 1970. After a prestigious Helen Hay Whitney Postdoctoral Fellowship supported 3 years of research at the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, Sweden, Curt returned to Utah on the research track faculty. His training had been in the area of metalloproteins and metal trafficking, and he continued to do research in this field. But he also maintained a scientific interest in the disease that was increasingly affecting him, and he obtained grants and led the effort to further define its genetic basis.
With the advent of human molecular genetics on our campus, the tools to discover the gene responsible for Alport's Syndrome were close at hand. Curt began a collaboration with David Barker, who had come to Utah initially as a postdoctoral fellow with Ray White, but who later established an Alport's project in his own lab in the Department of Physiology. This collaboration resulted in identification of a gene for a specific collagen subtype – Collagen IV A5 – as the culprit. Different mutations were present in different families, but all affected the same gene. This discovery was published in Science in 1990.
At about this time, we asked Curt to give a seminar on Alport's in the Biochemistry Department. He described the hunt for the gene and showed a slide with the various mutations that had been identified to that date. He pointed at one and said, "This is the sucker that is killing me." I think it was a source of great satisfaction to Curt that he had participated in both the beginning and the end of the genetic study of Alport's Syndrome. In doing so, he linked the early days of genetic research at the SoM with the modern era of gene discovery.
Curt succumbed to his very personal disease in January, 2000.
Eugene L. Bellin, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1958
Internal Medicine
I've regretted not thanking the Admission Committee for accepting me, a Jewish person from New York, with a Yale average of only 83, and taking me three thousand miles to Salt Lake city into a fascinating LDS environment, giving me a chance to be a doctor - after a rocky medical course, helped by an understanding faculty (Wintrobe, Holmstrom, Price, etc.).
James L. Parkin, M.D.
SOM graduate 1966, SOM faculty 1972-97
Retired
John A. Dixon, M.D. was a great contributor to the School of Medicine serving as Dean and later as Vice President for Health Sciences. In addition to his administrative duties, he pursued his interest in the medical applications of lasers. When the Smithsonian Institute in Washington D.C. organized an exhibit on the 25th anniversary of the discovery of lasers, John was asked to organize the medical part of the exhibit in recognition of his pioneering work. A picture of John demonstrating the laser to then president Ronald Reagan hangs in the University Hospital hallway.
In the mid 1970s, John came to me and asked if I thought the laser could be used in the treatment of patients with hereditary hemorrhagic telangiectasia to control their severe nosebleeds. We evaluated the different laser modalities available then and decided to try the argon laser.
William McMahan had started a laser company (American Laser Corporation) in an empty drive in eating establishment on the west side of town. This company later became a major player in medical laser manufacturing. Since the early devices were unreliable we insisted there be two units available and Bill present when we treated a patient.
The laser lab was located in a small room on the east side of the fourth floor in the SOM building (521). There was no general anesthesia available in that room. We would put local anesthesia in the patient's nose and then laser treat each individual lesion. Initially the patient would grimace and we thought it caused pain but when we asked the answer was "no pain," so we put local anesthesia in our own noses and tried it and experienced a sensation akin to carbonated drink getting in the nose.
Occasionally a laser unit would malfunction and even ignite causing the room to fill with smoke. John was very patient in explaining to the patient that they were not on fire and were safe. We would open the window and let the smoke dissipate and then use the backup unit.
From these early beginnings the argon laser was established as effective treatment for mucosal and cutaneous vascular lesions of many types. It was John Dixon's pioneering efforts and recruitment of specialists from multiple disciplines to explore the use of lasers which opened a new frontier of treatment options. It was exciting to be a member of that Dixon team along with Sue Huether, Gerald Krueger, and others.
Claude R. Thomas, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1961
General Practice
Shortly after beginning medical school, after four years in Korean War, we had a test in Biochemistry that was very difficult. In fact, my score was about 63. That same day, my wife told me we were expecting our 4th child. I almost quit medical school. As it turned out, the test was so difficult, 63 was not a bad score at all, and the child we were expecting is now a prominent physician at the Mayo Clinic.
Penelope ("Penny") A. Pemberton, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1965
Pediatrics
I'll always remember the care and concern, for my best interest and welfare that my fellow classmates always exhibited toward me. I felt like I had brothers for classmates. Also I discovered that the education and training that I received at the University of Utah Medical School was second to none.
John C. Nelson, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1968
Ophthalmology
I remember watching Dr. Hashimoto drawing on the blackboard with both hands simultaneously, and teaching us clinical pearls when we were thirsting for anything beyond the basic sciences.
L. George Veasy. M.D.
SOM Graduate 1946
Professor of Pediatrics and Adjunct Professor of Medicine (Retired)
Emeritus Professor of Pediatrics
My class which graduated in December 1946 was the freshman class that completed the first 4 year student body of our school. The school administration postponed our pharmacology courses until the start of our sophomore year awaiting the arrival of Dr. Louis Goodman in September of 1944.
Dr. Goodman brought two assistants with him, Dr. Mark Nickerson and Dr. John Tolman. Both later became heads of departments of pharmacology; Dr. Nickerson at the University of Manitoba and Dr. Tolman at the University of Chicago. Dr. Goodman, however, essentially gave all the lectures and directed the laboratory sessions. Even when his two bright assistants gave a presentation, Dr. Goodman was always in attendance.
Dr. Goodman essentially lectured to our class 4 hours a morning for a full quarter. The only time separated from lecturing or giving demonstrations was during examination time which occurred once or twice a week. The tests usually included one or two essay questions. Dr. Goodman not only made up the questions but personally graded them with added comments about the essay questions. He returned the corrected tests in front of the class by handing the student with the highest grade his blue book first and then sequentially down to the student who had the lowest grade. He truly knew how to motivate. I don’t believe he did this with any other class and I don’t remember any other professor doing it either.
He also did something for our class which I am quite certain he did only once. He played Santa Claus, donning a red cap and ho-ho-ing it at our class’s afternoon Christmas party.
To have such a close teacher-student relationship with a true giant of medicine is a cherished memory for all the members of our class.
Homer Warner M.D., Ph.D.
SOM Graduate 1949
Prof. Emeritus, Medical Informatics
Horace Davenport told us the first day of Physiology that half of us would not make it through medical school. I believe it was his way of motivating us, but he wasn’t far wrong in his estimate. We performed experiments on animals and on ourselves to illustrate the principles he wanted us to learn. One day a student was hyperventilating to show the tetanus that comes with respiratory alkalosis and had a convulsion in front of the class---- more unforgettable than any Power Point presentation.
In 1953 I returned to Utah with an American Heart Fellowship to work with Dr. Hecht and was given responsibility for the lectures to the first year students in cardiovascular physiology. Dr. Davenport attended each lecture and always wrote me a note with some constructive criticism.
Kaye H Kilburn, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1954
Internal Medicine/Preventative Medicine
A night in 1952 overlooking Salt Lake City from atop the Wasatch Range, where City Creek Canyon meets Hard Scrabble, with my best friend. When Paul Wood chose me as his registrar at Brampton Hospital, London in 1961.
J. Alton Ross, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1954
Family Practice
Ready to do first operation as an ENT resident, an adult, local tonsillectomy, had patient ready (she thought I knew what I was doing) I thought!!! Took the towel off t he instrument tray and there sat large orthopedic instruments and a surgical book of instructions. That was October 15, 1954. It so happened that my wife, Ann, and the patient and department chairman were in on it.
C. DuWayne Schmidt, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1954
Pulmonary Medicine
Locked my jaw during a yawn in the class of Dr. Goodman.
Michael S. Clement, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1963
Pediatrics, Public Health
My first junior clerkship was medicine at the county, Wintrobe attending. My first patient presentation I got through the history OK, then said “the patient appeared acutely but not chronically ill”. An eternity passed while Max pulled out of me what I really saw when I first examined the patient and told me not to use clichés picked up from the resident’s notes.
Robert B. Gibbons, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1963
Internal Medicine and Rheumatology
Identification of hookworm in the stool of one of Dr. Max Wintrobe’s patients and receiving a subsequent “A” for third year Medicine. He confirmed the diagnosis with a visiting professor from the University of Missouri – or was it St. Louis University – and used it as an example as to why students and residents should do all laboratory tests by themselves. I deserved the “A” anyway.
Fred Miya, M.D.
SOM Graduate 1963
Pathology
Having been scheduled for one month in the Emergency Room at the Salt Lake City General Hospital after nine months into my Straight pathology Internship and without a stethoscope (I traded it for a guitar after graduation). A worst memory but satisfying clinical experience.
Dan Ward, M.D.
SOM Graduate 2004
Otolaryngology Resident
I am currently an Otolaryngology resident at the University of Michigan. I was reading through the memories submitted and noticed a couple of memories about Dr. Horace Davenport who was the chair of Physiology at Utah for several years.
After he left Utah, Dr. Davenport took over as chair at the Department of Physiology at the University of Michigan where he continued educating medical students. In addition, he identified the stomach's mucosal barrier that protects it from gastric acid and showed that aspirin leads to breakdown of the mucosal barrier.
I thought that many other alumni would be interested to know that Dr. Davenport passed away a couple of weeks ago at the age of 92 from pneumonia.
His son is currently the director of the University of Michigan's blood bank.
Frank G. Moody, M.D.
Chairman and Professor of the Department of Surgery from 1971 to 1982.
Surgeon
I have many fond memories of my time at the University of Utah as Chairman and Professor of the Department of Surgery from 1971 to 1982.
As I drove up to go to work my first day I recall thinking that we must expand our physical plant in order to accommodate the rapid expansion in research opportunities and the clinical applications that will derive from them. I had the opportunity to work with John Dixon and others to develop the then new University Hospital, but could never imagine how large and productive the campus would become in the decades ahead.
I have spent the past 22 years at the University of Texas in Houston where everything is big, but my heart and soul has remained in Utah. I am proud to have been a part of its first hundred years, and look forward to the Celebration.
Tyrrell Seager M.D.
SOM Graduate 1932
General Surgery
I began at the University of Utah in 1925 when I was 17. At the time the school consisted of buildings in the horseshoe-shaped circle, with an arboretum behind the Park Building.
Male students wore a suit and tie to school and the girls, of course, wore dresses. I spent four years in premedical studies, which included an additional year to graduate with a BS degree. Since I was a year younger than my classmates, the additional experience and education proved better in the long run.
This was during the beginning of the depression that hit the country in 1929. Times were difficult, but Mom and Dad were very industrious. We used the farm produce as a means to provide for my education. In 1930, I graduated with a BA degree in a class of 30.
There was nothing remarkable about my two years in medical school, except that my favorite subject was anatomy, which was a difficult subject for most. I graduated in June of 1932. My record of mostly "A" grades was good enough that the dean of the medical school, Dr. Porter, recommended my name to the University of Pennsylvania for continued studies, which was a class "A" school. The University of Utah Medical School was limited to only the first two years of a full medical course at the time. Graduates were required to transfer to four-year schools in the East or Midwest to complete their training. There were six of us from the University of Utah, who decided to go to the University of Pennsylvania, including Wilford W. Beck Jr., Elvin W. Gilchrist, Benjamin Robison, Rondell H. Tanner, and Anthony Wayne Middleton, who became my roommate.
By the time I graduated from Penn in June 1934, I was accepted for an internship at the Salt Lake County General Hospital, which was the U of U's teaching hospital. It was on the northeast corner of 2100 South and State and provided the best general internship available in the city. The building was not the most pleasant place. The "County General" treated the poor and indigent for little or no cost.
There was also a clinic building where I trained, that probably housed a hundred miners afflicted with lung diseases such as anthracosis and silicosis. They were there for nursing care and to live out the rest of their lives. A lot of these men frequently acquired tuberculosis because they were more susceptible to the disease. Also a high percentage of the miners were tobacco smokers. Of special interest, was an operation simply called a rib resection, a procedure not practiced today. In some of the cases the lung disease would be worse on one side of the chest then on the other. The rib resection, using local anesthetic, would open up the side of the chest that was affected the worst. A section of 8 or 9 ribs would be cut out and this would allow the diseased side of the chest to partly collapse. This would permit the other side of the chest to expand better and was thought to help check the tuberculosis by reducing the amount of oxygen the TB organism was getting. I always had a positive PPD test, but never got active TB.
Of course antibiotics were not available to the general population until after World War II, so we did the best we could by using isolation, general nursing care, and sometimes holding hands. A lot of abscesses occurred that had to be drained and irrigated frequently. We also used mustard poultice. We sterilized instruments by boiling, soaking in an alcohol solution, or using a steam autoclave. Nothing was disposable, so we reused surgical gloves, cloth drapes, glass syringes & needles, catheters, and glass intravenous bottles. There was not the sophisticated radiology of today such as MRI's or CT Scans. Arterial blood gases had not been developed yet and there were only rudimentary lab tests. General surgery was done with only ether as an anesthetic, dripped on to a cloth mask. There was no such thing as intubations, therefore there were no thoracic surgeries except under local anesthetic. Surgeries were done using catgut, silk, or linen sutures. Wire and nylon sutures were developed later.
Because there were very few specialists, I was trained in every type of surgery imaginable, including thoracic, orthopedics, general, some neurological, and obstetrical. Doctors of that time were well trained to do hands-on assessment and spent much more time diagnosing their patient's problems, instead of relying on today's advanced tests and procedures.
My medical internship started on July 1, 1934, and I received a house staff diploma on June 30, 1935. After the usual one-year rotation, I was asked by the hospital superintendent and medical director, Dr. Robert J. Alexander, to stay on another year as a surgical resident. He was a plastic surgeon and he wanted me to handle all the other surgeries. I was happy to since I wanted to begin a practice in general surgery. This just happened to be the first time any hospital in the state of Utah had offered a residency in addition to an internship.
My two years at the old Salt Lake County Hospital were very interesting. It was hard work living at the hospital, and the first year I was only paid ten dollars a month. This, of course, was just "pin" money, which only gave me enough to go to an occasional movie or to buy a drink at the drug store across the corner. Practically all of my time was spent living in the hospital, but it was a great surgical experience because the county had arranged for the eight general surgeons in S.L.C. to take turns coming to the hospital. One of these surgeons would always be "on call" to help with any major surgical cases. This opportunity to assist with different practicing surgeons was very beneficial to my education. Another intern and I were able to do minor surgeries without additional help.
My experience at the county hospital became fairly well known in the medical society, because I was also appointed county physician for the last year. That was a political move, which enabled me to receive fifty dollars a month instead of the usual intern salary. At the end of another year at the General Hospital, I received a certificate of residency on June 30, 1936.
From July 1936 to 1942 I worked for International Smelting & Refining Co. at Rio Tinto Copper Mine in Nevada. During WWII I worked for Bingham Canyon Mine in Utah from 1942 to July 1946, then moved to Vernal, Utah and formed a partnership with Dr. Ray Spendlove.
For 30 years, I had a private practice in General Industrial and Surgical Services in Vernal.
I am currently (2006) 97 years old and live with my wife and daughter in West Jordan, Utah.
