We had a Physics Professor, Fr. Charles Coony, S.J. He was tough, but fair. You made sure that you buddied up with an Engineering student, or two, for study. He had open-book, open-note exams. If the answer wasn't an even number, you had better 'show your work' for partial credit. We used slide rules, the 'new' Texas Instruments calculators not being affordable for everyone. His class examples were culled from his own input on LA freeway grading (for speed limits), and height-weight restrictions on roller-coasters.
My story has more to do with Fr. Coony's seating arrangements. On day one, we were seated in seats exactly one seat apart, alphabetically, alternating males and females. No chatting allowed.
I was a member of a certain service club, whose colors happened to be Crimson and Grey. One of our honor-bound duties was to accept computer punch-cards (it was the stone-age, after all) from individual students for their classes. If the class was full, or your teacher was unavailable, or you were not qualified, your request was spit out. Somehow, a fictitious female student managed to register for Physics 101, the Lab, AND a breakage card. Well, on the first day of class, there was a conspicuously empty seat in the 'K' section, between two men. Roll was called. "Is there a Zelda Kowalski present? A Miss Zelda Kowalski?" Father squeaked. Some of us may have even looked around. He took two or three days before he rearranged our seats.
He turned out to be an old softy, to all of us. Perhaps an atom more to the women, in a very old-fashioned way. He had been teaching there since the 1930s, so I think he could be excused. I remember his Irish cap and briefcase, strolling the Sunken Gardens to the Jesuit residence hall, disciples in tow. He went to join the Great Physics Professor in 1975. You were the best, Fr. Coony.