Gems and Jewels

The message came to the alumni. “We are closing the library in Thayer Hall and class photographs will be placed in storage. Any one who would like their class group photo may come and remove it.”

As class secretary, I went immediately and claimed the class of 1952 B. It is indeed a gem. Not that it is a semiprecious stone, but prized, beautiful and perfect…hanging on my wall for decades. Of those thirty-four faces, only one is male. The male nurses lived in apartments nearby. We women were closely supervised in the dormitory. Sexism has been with us since the hunter gatherer times. You might wonder why those faces are so precious to me. I can sit in that upstairs room, gaze at the faces and conjure up a treasure trove of precious memories!

I believe our Worcester City Hospital School of Nursing class was the very first to publish a year book. It’s beautiful. Great care and time were given in order to make it special. Surely, we had to get approval and had scrutiny along with doubt from nursing superiors.

Aesculapian. That word  is the cover of the yearbook. No doubt in reference to the Greek god of healing. In the autumn of my years, I know a bit more about the fate of Asclepius, son of Apollo. It seems Zeus, the king of gods, feared his healing powers might make men immortal. A bolt of lightening from Zeus made certain that might never happen.

 In the Foreword page of the yearbook, the first paragraph predicts:

 In turning the pages of this book, it is our fervent hope that we will recall some of the high ideals of our profession, and the intricate knowledge which  we have acquired. In retrospect, we  remember, that while learning and working together, we have formed friendships that will ride the “Storms of Time.”

We did. As our class secretary, I kept a record of each person’s address, made arrangements for class gatherings, and to this day (some seventy years later), reach out to those of us still living. Our families got to know each other. We attended each other’s weddings, baby showers, outings at parks and camps. Oh, those amazing picnics with George Wasgatt playing the Pied Piper, taking all the young ones on long walking adventures and Shirley MacDonald being our reliable life guard. We got to visit each other’s homes and hang out. We gathered at our nursing school alumni meetings.

There are so many memories of mirth and mischief, and all I have to do is look up at thirty- four faces on my wall to make those precious days  sparkle again.