Back in 1984, the University of Albany welcomed a new class of medical school students.

Among this group of aspiring doctors was a young man named Kurt.

He was embarking on a new journey following in his father's footsteps.

My dad was an OBGYN. My dad was very much into including me into his work as he wanted

me and my brother to go into medicine, which worked.

That September, Kurt settled into the med school routine. Classes, studying, time in the lab.

More classes, more studying. dinner, sleep, repeat.

A few weeks into his first semester, Kurt went down to the basement of the medical college

to check his mail. Kurt opened this tiny dark box and found a letter waiting for him.

I think it said, dear medical student, I don't remember, but it was like a serious letter

to every male student in the medical school class.

The letter was from Kurt's OB-GYN program.

It laid out a proposition to students.

It explained, this is our program, this is what we're trying to achieve.

We're helping people who can't conceive normally, blah, blah, blah. We're always looking for qualified candidates for sperm donors.

To me, the impression I got was this was like almost a personal letter from the head of the program to a fellow doctor to be.

So almost like, almost like peer to peer.

You know, I'm just starting med school.

So this is the first thing you get where you sort of feel like you're in the medical community.

And you're like, yes, I'm in the club.

The proposition appealed to Kurt.

He'd be helping fellow doctors, infertile couples.

...