news PS - Columbia University Medical Center

— From “The Memoirs of Allen O. Whipple, 1881 – 1963”
(unpublished) P. 232
630 West 168th Street
New York, NY 10032
’’ ’’
quotable
columbians
[A] hobby that I followed for some time was the collecting
and studying of the hands of surgeons and physicians. At
first I had the idea that there would be a definite difference
in the shape and make-up of the hands of these two groups
of practitioners. But as I collected models of some eight
hands of well-known surgeons whom I had known in the
American Surgical Association, and some thirty internists’
hands, I realized that there was no difference. It soon
became evident that, as in all walks of life, character was
often expressed in the hand. Some interesting examples
of this were shown in the hands of doctors with strong or
striking personalities. Harvey Cushing, who was always
positive in his opinions and well aware of his importance,
sent me his hand, cast in bronze, with all his fingers in
full extension and with all the tendons on the back of his
hand tense and showing. Rudolph Matas of New Orleans,
a most modest and cultured gentleman, always known
for his desire to give his friends and associates full credit
for everything that they had done (which resulted in
his reading papers of interminable length) sent me the
cast of his hand that suggested more than anything else
a frightened bird seeking its nest. The men of artistic
temperament, whether surgeons or physicians, had very
much the same type of hands, with slender fingers longer
than average. Most of the surgeons, because of their use of
surgical instruments over long periods of time, had thicker
and stronger palms and inter-osseous muscles than the
internists. This was to be expected. This collection of hands
stood on the top of my bookshelves in my office at the
Presbyterian for several years and, when I retired, I left the
collection to the surgical department.
Non-Profit Org.
U.S. Postage
Paid
New York, NY
PERMIT NO. 3593
‘ ‘‘ ‘‘
Allen Whipple’s collection of hands
disappeared — as he expected it would
— after his retirement in 1946.