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Va. Institute on Embryonic Frontier -- Again
By Craig Timberg
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, July 16, 2001; Page A01

News that Virginia scientists had created human embryos for
research rather than to spark new life made national headlines
last week. But it was no shock to Elizabeth Jordan Carr,
who 20 years ago was herself an embryo in the hands of some
of the same scientists.

Only she wasn't destined for research. Carr became the nation's
first test-tube baby, launching an industry that has helped
hundreds of thousands of couples have children and that
put a tiny Norfolk clinic in the vanguard of medical research
and ethical quandary.

The Jones Institute for Reproductive Medicine, as it is now
known, was born of that controversy and during the past two
decades has helped pioneer the science, forcing a gradual
reconsideration of what constitutes life itself.

It is a legacy applauded by Carr, who considers the institute's
founders, Georgeanna and Howard W. Jones Jr., to be "my
second set of grandparents."

"The Joneses pushed the envelope 19 years ago . . . and look
at all the good it's done," said Carr, a college student in Boston.
Of today's embryo research, she added, "This is technology
that can help people, period."

Not all have reacted with support. Jones Institute researchers,
who had seen the criticism marking their original efforts largely
fade away, angered even many within their own industry last
week by announcing that they had created human embryos
exclusively for stem cell research that destroys the embryos.

Researchers believe stem cells hold great promise for treating
a variety of diseases because they can become any human tissue.
However, the institute exploded a fragile consensus among
researchers to use only frozen embryos created for in-vitro
fertilization but slated to be discarded.

Opponents of such research reacted to the news with fury,
warning that the Jones Institute had switched from creating
life to ending it, beginning a slide into the realm of Nazi scientists
who used concentration camp inmates for medical studies.

"We deplore the relegation of any human life to the status
of pure experimentation," said Fiona Givens, spokeswoman
for the Virginia Society for Human Life, which opposed the
research that led to Carr's birth two decades ago.

In conservative Virginia, such an argument is politically
dangerous for the institute. It has thrived in Norfolk, not
far from conservative Christian power centers in Virginia
Beach, home to religious broadcaster Pat Robertson and
his Christian Broadcasting Network.

Funding for the embryo research was raised privately,
the institute said, but the Eastern Virginia Medical School
that houses it gets $14.1 million a year in state funding.
After news of the research broke last week, Virginia Gov.
James S. Gilmore III (R) asked one of his Cabinet officials
to investigate the Jones Institute research and make a report.
The research also became a hot topic at Saturday's first
gubernatorial debate, during which both Democrat
Mark R. Warner and Republican Mark L. Earley expressed
reservations about the work.

At the Jones Institute, where a 90-year-old Howard Jones
still comes to work most days, criticism doesn't deter
researchers. Jones said the institute determined it was
more ethical to use embryos created for research than ones
originally intended for procreation.

"We always want to take the next step," Jones said.

The Joneses came to Norfolk's fledgling Eastern Virginia
Medical School in 1978, arriving through a quirk of history
on the same day that English doctors delivered the world's
first test-tube baby. When a reporter from Norfolk's newspaper,
the Virginian-Pilot, called the school for comment, she ended
up with an interview of the Joneses that Howard Jones
still recalls well.

The reporter asked: Could you do that?

"Of course," Jones said.

The reporter then asked: What would it take?

It would take some money."

The exchange was mostly flippant, but the Joneses
had worked with one of the English doctors, Robert Edwards,
at Baltimore's Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine,
which the Joneses left upon reaching the mandatory
retirement age.

When the article appeared the next day with Jones's comments,
a former patient from Johns Hopkins called up to offer money.
Her $5,000 donation launched what would become the Jones
Institute. It remains part of Eastern Virginia Medical School,
a private medical college founded in 1973.

Controversy gradually ebbed as the institute cemented its
reputation as a national leader in fertility research and treatment
with a series of advances. They included a technique
for injecting sperm into eggs even when the father's semen
is in poor condition. The institute also helped pioneer
a testing regimen that can detect genetic diseases before
an embryo is implanted in a mother's womb.

More recently, the institute helped develop a way for an
HIV-positive man to fertilize an egg without passing the
virus to the mother or their child. Though still part of Eastern
Virginia Medical School, the institute has grown to 150 doctors,
scientists and staff members, and it opened a satellite clinic
in Fairfax County in March.

Along the way, the institute sought to protect its image,
suing the Virginian-Pilot for $5.5 million in 1982, alleging libel.
The case concerned a column that appeared in the days after
Carr's birth which suggested that the institute's doctors
would not allow the birth of "defective" babies conceived
with their help. The paper paid an out-of-court cash settlement
and printed an apology.

The institute also took the lead in developing standards
in the often-freewheeling world of fertility clinics, earning
it a reputation as not only a scientific innovator but also
an ethical one.

"The Jones Institute is the granddaddy of all fertility clinics
in the United States," said Joe B. Massey, co-founder of
Reproductive Biology Associates in Atlanta. "They were
bold in the beginning, and they're bold now."

That boldness comes with a price. With fertility treatment
of the sort that led to Carr's birth routine, embryo researchers
face intense political and ethical questions.

State Del. Robert F. McDonnell (R-Virginia Beach), author
of Virginia's new law banning cloning of humans, wondered
aloud last week whether the Jones Institute's stem cell research
was so scientifically similar to cloning that it would be fall under
the new ban.

Institute officials, who supported the cloning ban, said the
science is not similar. But they could soon face far sharper
official scrutiny than they have had since Carr's conception
and birth.

Carr said the controversy might fade if the public comes
to better understand the science behind the embryo research.
She often must remind people, she said, that she's no longer
a baby and wasn't conceived in a test tube; it was a petri dish.

And for the record, she argued that her life didn't begin there,
either. It began, Carr said, when she took the identifiable form
of a baby, in her mother's womb.

"Yes, I was an embryo, but the things that they're doing with
the stem cell research . . . they're making sure it's going to be
pre-embryos," she said, using a term some scientists prefer
for describing a fertilized egg in its first 14 days.
"They're just cells."

Metro research editor Margot Williams contributed to this report.

SOURCE:  The Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/nation/A751-2001Jul15.html

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