Dr. Hallaran was a solo practice primary care internist in Cleveland; he was a CWRU graduate who almost certainly was doing his payback. He was thin, had a pronounced limp from a paretic right leg resulting from childhood polio, and wore a loose brown suit with, I think, a brown fedora. He carried a black bag holding the tools of the trade, which at that time included a small stock of drugs used in house calls.
My payback day was last Thursday when I was introduced to my wonderful group of whip-smart medical students at UCSF -- as diverse a group as can be imagined, and mostly Californian -- only a few had been imported from one of the 49 other alien states. We talked a lot -- actually I talked most of the time because I was probably more nervous than they were. And then we learned and practiced how to take pulses and do blood pressures. I talked a lot about keeping your eyes open, paying attention, and observing; I used a little parlor trick of making them do observations on my dusty and worn black bag, an Eli Lilly heirloom from the days when drug company gifts were innocent and well-meant. It was an exciting two hours for me, and I hope for them as well. We forgot to learn percussion, a time-honored and occasionally useful physical exam skill. That will have to wait until next Thursday when we tackle the entire head.
In the end, I hope they are inspired to do their payback some day, perhaps four decades hence.