Friday, June 18, 2010

Stories from the Clippings

Live! From New York City!
In today's world of online conferencing, it may not seem particularly stunning to report on a Vediclinic; but in 1955, it was big news indeed. Twenty-two thousand physicians, that's right, 22,000 doctors from all over the country gathered together without ever leaving their home town to view a conference on coronary artery disease. This was the biggest medical meeting ever! Big news? You bet!

We think nothing of accessing our office computer from home or joining an interactive meeting or a webinar that might be taking place anywhere in the world, from our homes and offices. Software with brand names like, Virtual rooms, Mikogo, Fuze, Yugma, Dimdim, Backtalk, COW, WELL Engaged, YAPP, Big Mouth Lion and TALKaway, make it all possible.

David Woolley, of THINKOFIT, a pioneer in online conferencing for 30 years, said that, "In the summer of 1994 there were exactly two products in this category, both of them rather primitive freeware packages. Today there is well over 60 commercial and freeware products, many of them quite sophisticated that support conferencing on the Web in one form or another."

Our article this week describes how five hundred Portland physicians met at the Multnomah Hotel in downtown Portland and joined 22, 000 others from 32 cities. They sat in rapt attention as the vediclinic presented "a forceful and dramatic program of the best medical and scientific thinking of the nation on one of the world's leading killers of man." It was so well attended that the hotel had to open up an adjoining room.

The program was live from New York City and tied together live pickups from Boston, New York and Cleveland with filmed reports from five other large cities. One of the five distinguished panelists' was Dr. Howard P. Lewis, professor of medicine and head of the department of medicine at the University of Oregon Medical School. His presence was described as "confident and at ease in both argument and explanation."

The post-graduate vediclinic showed that the science of electronics and medicine can team together to present the newest scientific information without the obstacles of time and space. It was not only dynamic and impressive; it was also entertaining at times drawing laughs from the audience. While one of the distinguished panelists described how he encouraged patients to give up smoking, the camera captured the smoke from his cigarette, held just out of view, curling up around his ears.

The then president of the United States, Dwight D. Eisenhower, opened the program saying, "God speed on your mission."

articles referenced - 1_54_3

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Joining, since Option Two is out

Starting tomorrow, I'll be heading out to Philadelphia, PA, for the annual ACRL Rare Books and Manuscripts Section Preconference (pre- to the American Library Association annual conference), which this year is titled Join, or Die: Collaboration in Special Collections. (Lovely graphic poached from the conference web site).

In my absence, Karen Peterson will continue to post her "Stories from the Clippings" on the Fridays, but the space will be quiet on the other six days until my return on July 30. Historical Collections & Archives is still open for business as usual, so feel free to contact us during the coming weeks.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

What the well-dressed medical student is wearing

The Historical Collections & Archives announces an important new addition to its textile collections: a t-shirt. That's right! The School of Medicine Class of 2013 has updated the look they like so well--the jerseys of the 1894 school football team--and created a redesigned t-shirt logo. We quickly snapped one up for the archives.

If you missed your chance to order one of these sweet shirts, don't worry: I'm told there will be another round available in the fall.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Colonel Strohm's Nurse

The first month I arrived here in Historical Collections & Archives, August 2003 (wow! time flies), Karen Peterson was preparing the new exhibit, which was going to feature materials from a scrapbook created by nurses who served with the University of Oregon Medical School's General Hospital 46 in World War II. The nurses had referred to themselves as "Colonel Strohm's Nurses"--J. Guy Strohm, M.D., being the commanding officer of the 46th. At the time the exhibit was mounted, we actually had people vandalizing the posters--that's how much attitudes had changed towards what was now being perceived as a very patriarchal culture.

Well, we received a donation yesterday from another of Colonel Strohm's nurses, and her scrapbook is confirmation and elaboration of the materials shown in that 2003 display. Dorothy A. Robinson Mann graduated from the University of Oregon Medical School Dept. of Nursing Education in June 1942, one month after being commissioned into the Army Nurse Corps as a second lieutenant. She shipped out with the 46th, first to Fort Riley, and then overseas to Oran and thence to France. She was sent back home, to Fitzsimmons Hospital, when she was diagnosed with pulmonary tuberculosis in 1945, and she received her discharge shortly afterward.

Returning to Oregon, Dorothy worked with Alice Scharf in surgical nursing in Portland and matriculated at Lewis & Clark, from which she received her bachelor's degree in biology. She even published the results of her study of the Branchiobdellida in the Journal of Parasitology in 1954. She then headed out to Coos Bay, where she worked first at the McAuley Hospital and later as the company nurse for Weyerhauser before marrying Earl Mann and retiring from nursing.

Included in the collection are Dorothy's scrapbook (one page shown here); school certificates; graduating photos from UOMS, Lewis & Clark, and Franklin High; two yearbooks from UOMS; military commission and paperwork from the war years; two nursing texts; her Branchiobdellida research; and other ephemera. We are very grateful to Dorothy's family for depositing this material with us for preservation and research.

Monday, June 14, 2010

The Paper

If you were going to start an informational bulletin, a bulletin you planned to fill with newsy bits and announcements, anecdotes, an image or two, and some advertisements, what would you call it? How about The Paper? That was the name chosen by the faculty and students of the University of Oregon Dental School when they embarked on such an endeavor in October 1971.

In October of 1976, after The Paper ceased publication, the choice was The U.O.D.S. News. That title had to be short-lived, since it was dated before it hit the press (the school had become part of the University of Oregon Health Sciences Center in 1974).

By January of 1984, the school's creative minds had hit their stride: issue number one of The Incisal Edge was pithy, fun, and printed on blue paper.

We only know this printing history because Dr. Henry Clarke and other historically-minded folks at the dental school kept issues of each of these newsletters safe in the vault. The library now has a run of The Paper from v.1 no.1-no.9; v.1 no.1 of U.O.D.S. News (and I would seriously doubt that more issues were ever produced); and v.1 no.1 and no.4 of the Incisal Edge. If anyone can help us fill in the gaps in this run, we'd love to hear from you.

What do we learn from these bulletins? Besides the obvious (reflections on the organization, administration, and culture of the dental school in the 1970s and 1980s, along with factual information about programs, faculty achievements, and student activities), we get great articles like Fred Cowan's "Grass in Dentistry" (yes, that sort of grass), the informal survey results of "Patient Attitudes about Student Dress Codes," and a report on students doing outreach to the Oregon State Penitentiary called "Remembering the Forgotten Men"--plus, we get to see photos like the one shown here, of Dean Terkla doing his best Olympic marathoner imitation.