In a darkened auditorium, before a flickering screen, sat a sizable representation of New Orleans doctors.
The big sloping room was quiet.
But the occasion was an historic one.
And everyone seemed to sense it, even the some 300 or 400 assembled physicians who habitually play down the dramatic to concentrate on the practical. * * *
THE STORY they were hearing and watching was that of Dr. Jonas E. Salk and his development of the vaccine, believed to be the long-awaited conqueror or dread, cruel, crippling polio.
Dr. Salk appeared here as he did in more than 60 other U. S. cities on a closed television circuit. He talked softly, smoothly —but a nervousness was discernible.
It appeared to be the nervousness of relief, of aftermath and of weariness. The biggest
battle was over. The vaccine had been developed.
Now he was telling the world how it had been done.
He had help in his demonstration . . .the same" man who had stood by his side in the battle.
Dr. Thomas Francis, Jr., University o£ Michigan epidemiologist, who directed the independent evaluation of the results of the vaccine from the 1954 ;field trial.
Dr. David -Bodian, of Johns
Hopkins University, who made
important scientific contributions
to the serums development.
TO THE LAYMAN, a - g o o d
deal of the telecast uas beyond understanding. Long medical terms and description of complicated processes flowed from the doctors.
But meaningful nods from members of the audience in the LSU medical school .auditorium and an occasional huddle indicated that this was a big moment.
