When I consider the upcoming school year, I recall Dr. Leo Carson Davis’ rigorous academic expectations. The first day of Geology 101, he informed us we would study rocks and write a weekly journal to improve our written communication. One man wrote “The train went down the track going ‘chooo, choo, choo.’” He filled the remaining pages with choo choos. I wrote and thought about rocks. I thought about rocks a lot that semester. Labs focused on identifying various rocks. Dr. Davis never inflicted us with the “identify all these different black rocks” test. He just scared us by saying his professor had promised it as the final exam.
I studied rocks, read about rocks and geological formations. I immersed myself into rocks that semester. I know I also had three or four other classes, but Geology 101 consumed me. Dr. Davis would not allow it to be otherwise. He lived and breathed his science. For at least a semester his fascination with rocks, nature and caves would be ours.
As a National Merit Scholar, he perpetually and instinctively studied. He said he started out with another major until he realized he spent his spare time spelunking, studying caves and rocks. He switched to geology. His office overflowed with boxes of rocks and scientific wonders. At one point, Dr. Davis told us where we could find crystals on a hill next to a highway. I described it to my husband. Our family went there and returned with a collection of fascinating crystals to add to other rocks we had gathered through the years.
I would have taken Geology 102 if I had had the time and energy for another semester with Dr. Leo Carson Davis. Instead I avoided the commitment needed to study under him until my certification for teaching science required the pre-med anatomy and physiology course. Taking a deep breath, I signed up for another Dr. Davis science class.
He had taken a refresher course before teaching the class for the first time. He transferred the information to us. The three bright young pre-med students and I, (mother of children almost their age) plunged into absorbing in one semester the circulatory, digestive, neurological and other systems of the body. My hand cramped taking notes l, which I later typed up and memorized to pass his tests. Pre-med students left his class adequately prepared for med school.
The labs proved equally challenging and interesting. One lab began with each of us consuming a quart of water with or without salt. I lucked out and got the all water assignment. To the one who received the saltiest water, Dr. Davis said, “If you can’t drink it all just do your best.” He didn’t want the guy to get sick.
We drank. Thirty minutes later we went to the bathroom and then walked back down the hall carrying beakers of urine to test for viscosity or salt or something. I don’t know. I just remember how silly we felt walking down the hall carrying those beakers and Dr. Davis’ serious face every time we did it.
When we studied the blood circulatory system, Dr. Davis grimaced and bit his tongue as I pumped and pumped and pumped the thing. His face said, “enough!” I guess it takes a bit of practice to get the hang of using a blood pressure cuff.
For years after, I kept my meticulous notes, graphs and labs. I kept them long after I tossed remnants from other classes. I have forgotten much of the geology and anatomy I learned for my hard-won As, but Dr. Leo Carson Davis’ lessons in academic excellence remain to this day. With these reflections on Dr. Davis in mind, I wish all students a great new school year. May you be challenged and inspired by your teachers and professors.