I stood in a packed hall to hear author Rebecca Skloot talk about a black woman from Virginia whose cells helped to develop a polio vaccine, reveal the secrets of cancer and lead to advances about cloning and gene mapping, among other research discoveries.
Skloot is the author of The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.
Henrietta’s cells, known as HeLa cells, were the first “immortal” human cells grown in culture. Today, more than 60 years after her death from cervical cancer, they remain alive. These HeLa cells, taken without Henrietta’s permission, have generated billions of dollars although Henrietta’s family did not receive a dime.
The book gave a voice and overdue dignity to Henrietta, who until May 29, was buried in an unmarked grave. Rebecca has also started a foundation, funded in part by book sales, to provide college scholarships and health insurance to Henrietta’s descendants.
Rebecca’s book is a testament to the power of judicious research, steely persistence and artful storytelling. I had to meet her. So did many others on a recent sweltering evening at the Library of Virginia. A lady with yellow Post-it notes collected our autograph requests for Rebecca. Mine had four simple but challenging words: For Robin, keep writing!
As I approached, a woman sitting next to Rebecca handed her my request.
“So you are a writer,” she said, as I stepped up.
I nodded, but I didn’t want to talk about me. “I know it floors you when people say you were an overnight success when it took you 10 years to write a story that you became curious about at age 16,” I said.
She looked up at me and nodded. We chatted briefly about her long journey to write the book.
“What kept you going after all those years?” I asked.
She said she had to tell the story, was unable to let it go and that she has a stubborn streak. Instantly I realized we had struck up a real conversation and not fan-talk chatter. But mindful of the women waiting behind me, I smiled and moved on, upset that I had left my camera home. I remembered I had a camera on my Blackberry. Hence, the bad photo above of this amazing wordsmith and woman.
Rebecca did not grow up wanting to be a writer. As a child, she wanted to become a veterinarian. After failing her freshman year, she attended an alternative school, which allowed her to take community college courses. It was there that she learned about Henrietta.
It’s the stuff of movies and the story will soon be on HBO. Oprah will produce it. I hope Skloot writes the script, too.
Earlier that evening, when I scanned the jammed-to-capacity crowd listening to Rebecca, I was struck by the diversity of her book-clutching admirers. This story weaving African-American history, medical research, bioethics, greed and a family’s struggles connected with readers on so many levels.
Rebecca gave the largely unknown Henrietta the legacy she deserved, helped her children to learn about a mother whose death at 31 left her a stranger, and extended educational opportunities to her descendants — all while making science engaging. Small wonder readers of all ages, shades and interests felt the need to greet this author whose masterful storytelling connects disparate cultures.
Because of Rebecca’s stubborn refusal to let it go, Henrietta’s story lives on along with her immortal cells.
