Word: schoenfeld
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Where can hippies turn for medical help? Increasingly, many of them look to the column of Doctor HIPpocrates, the surgeon-general of the sandal-and-speed set. They call him "Dr. HIP," but his real name is Eugene Schoenfeld. He got his schooling at the University of California, the University of Miami, the Yale University Department of Public Health and Albert Schweitzer's hospital in Africa. Now his jungle is the turned-on, freaked-out, sex-and-psychedelic scene...
...staff of Cal's student clinic, where he sometimes treats toes that have been dislocated when their owners leaped from barricades, Schoenfeld answered so many unhip hippies' questions that he eventually became convinced that something ought to be done. He half-jokingly suggested to Berkeley Barb Editor Max Scherr that his paper should print a medical column. "You write it," Scherr replied, and in March 1967 Schoenfeld...
Since then, Dr. HIPpocrates has become the best-read feature in the paper. Schoenfeld knew what his readers wanted-straight talk instead of "straight" lectures. To a questioner worried whether spray deodorants cause cancer of the armpits, he suggests daily bathing instead. To girls fearful of pelvic examinations, he carefully explains them. To a youth ashamed of his small genitalia, he reports that some women "would rather be tickled than choked...
...only two walks of the afternoon, putting the winning run on base. Princeton's captain Don Fudge, who had a double and two singles in previous trips to the plate, then lined a single to right, scoring one and tying the game. A strikeout followed, but Larry Schoenfeld, the Tigers' right fielder, hit one of Garibaldi's offerings to center field, driving the winning run and one insurance run across the plate...
When the train reached the Soviet sector check point of Schoenfeld in Berlin, East German police swarmed everywhere in and alongside the train. They pulled six teen-agers and an elderly woman off the train, herded them toward a group of 20 disconsolate East Germans presumably jerked off earlier trains. One girl with short blonde hair and a green raincoat dropped her bag and began to cry as she was taken off. As the train pulled away toward West Berlin, I watched a policeman pick up her bag, lead her sobbing into a green barracks office while a Soviet soldier...