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Henrietta Lacks is immortal -- or at least part of her is.

Lacks, a poor black woman from the tobacco fields of Virginia with little formal education, was diagnosed with cervical cancer in 1951. Tissue samples taken at that time proved to have remarkable properties that had the potential to greatly advance the frontiers of medical science and garner huge profits.

In "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks," Rebecca Skloot, an award-winning science writer, details the circumstances surrounding the nature of Lacks' illness, its effect on medical research worldwide and the consequences endured by her children and relatives.

She approaches this saga with a fast-moving narrative style that, initially, seems ripe to inject strong overtones of racial exploitation and unethical medical practices (the words "poor," "black" and "medical" cannot help but stir memories of the infamous Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, in which 399 black men with syphilis were never told what disease they had or provided a cure.) But, as Skloot clearly unveils in her text, some matters are not always black and white.

As Henrietta Lacks lay on an operating table at Johns Hopkins Hospital, her fate unknown at the age of 30, a small bit of her tumor was excised from her cervix for biopsy and delivered to another section of the facility, where efforts to grow human tissue in culture had continually failed.

Dr. George Gey, the head of the project, quickly discovered that the cells from Lacks reacted like no other; not only did they survive when bathed in a nutrient-enriched culture, they thrived. And they never died.

At long last, the world's first human line of immortal cells was discovered, making it possible to push the boundaries of cellular research into new realms and giving fresh hope for curing fatal or debilitating diseases -- all without the knowledge or consent of its humble donor.

Lacks died within six months, but in Gey's laboratory part of her lived on; her malignant cells continued to multiply at an astounding rate. Gey sought a cure for cancer and began sending out samples of Lacks' cells, now dubbed "HeLa," to anyone who requested them in the pursuit to eradicate the disease.

Soon other scientists obtained samples and HeLa cells were eventually found in research institutions around the world, where they became an invaluable tool in developing the polio vaccine; unlocking the secrets of cancer and AIDS; and advancing research in cloning, in vitro fertilization and gene mapping.

In time, some began to sell the cells for profit or made millions from marketable discoveries made directly from Lacks' genetic material. Skloot's reaction to this chain of events makes her book more than a mere biography as she allows Henrietta's story to cross generations and include Lacks' family members, who continued to be "haunted" by the legacy of HeLa.

In the midst of a book filled with expanding medical mysteries and evolving biological rhetoric, Skloot manages to keep sharp focus on the "human side," including her own struggle to win the trust of the family so her writing could give full meaning to Henrietta Lacks' life and contribution.

Once Skloot is accepted, she becomes an adviser and teacher to the Lacks family, many of whom could not fully grasp the complexities of what actually happened to Henrietta or the reasons their lives were not bettered after being repeatedly reminded of the glorious benefits of HeLa.

Overarching themes in the book include whether the Lacks family deserves financial compensation for profits made from HeLa; the notion that Henrietta was taken advantage of because of her race; and issues of privacy regarding medical records and tissue donors.

Those looking for a definitive resolution of these matters will not find them here. There are no villains, nor are there government conspiracies and cover-ups; there is no "smoking gun."

But there is the revelation that Lacks deserves a proper and exalted place in the annals of medical research. In this regard, Skloot may have ensured that the memory of Henrietta Lacks is as enduring as her cells, which still continue to grow.

Frank Woods, Ph.D., is a professor of African American Studies at UNCG.