I recently participated in a Zoom session with my medical school classmates from the class of 1974 at Johns Hopkins. Like much that has transpired in this stressful year, with continuing concerns about ourselves and our loved ones, the encounter with my classmates caused me to look back and reminisce. My relationship with them began before classes got under way when Hopkins sent us photos of each other accompanied with a listing of our undergraduate schools. As I previously blogged, I was certain that I would lose the competition with them, many of whom were Ivy League graduates, and be sent packing. That turned out to be an invalid concern as medical schools had abandoned an earlier practice of failing students. On the other hand, the premonition that I would be surrounded by very bright colleagues was on the mark. As expected they were smart and dedicated. Also, it turned out, it was a congenial group, supportive of each other and genuinely friendly; a pleasure to be with.

On our call it became clear that, by any measure, all were successful and had made significant contributions to the health of their communities. Those in academic medicine were leaders both of their schools and of national societies. Finally, some had spent their careers doing basic research at the highest level—one has received the Nobel Prize and the others are making equally important contributions.

It’s a group I’m proud to be part of.