newsstand along with a copy of the Toronto Daily Star.
The novel didn’t last past the first page. He dumped it in favor of the newspaper because the newspaper’s headline, Canada’s Polio Epidemic Intensifies, wouldn’t go away. His undergraduate years taught him that epidemics were as old as history, but methods to limit the damage the diseases caused were relatively new. It was in the second half of the eighteenth century when Edward Jenner, an Englishman, observed that milkmaids, unlike everyone else in the population, miraculously escaped the ravages of smallpox epidemics. Smallpox survivors were usually easy to recognize because of their hideous facial pockmarks, a lingering reminder of the effects of smallpox. When Jenner discovered that many milkmaids boasted blemish-free complexions, he theorized that their protection from catching smallpox could have been because they had previously contracted another disease. Jenner was convinced that cowpox, a much milder and less damaging version of smallpox, had produced sufficient antibodies in the milkmaids that helped them fight off smallpox during the epidemic. Jenner put his observation to the test in 1796 when he inoculated a young boy with cowpox pustules and waited. After a few days, he purposely infected the boy with smallpox. The experiment was a success. The boy didn’t get sick, and it ushered in the current era of immunization. Jenner’s experiment was considered by most historians to be the first vaccine in the history of medicine. Jenner’s success was only a start. While his theory was quickly adapted to develop vaccines to stem epidemics for many other diseases, the method of distribution was excruciating. The vaccines frequently spoiled before arrival.
Using the Canadian epidemic as his inspiration, Trent spent the entire train ride home from Toronto letting his mind go free. He knew that the problem with most epidemics was always a case of too few vaccines too late. When sufficient quantities were available, they often arrived too late because all vaccines required refrigeration to prevent the antibodies from spoiling. There simply weren’t enough properly equipped trucks or rail cars available to fill the need. There had to be a better way, he was sure of it. He saw an opportunity and took the bait.
Trent allowed himself a subtle smile as he carefully pulled the paper from the drawer. He turned it over, revealing the recipe for his creation. It was his future. He was proud.
An alkyl mercuric sulphur compound, he mumbled to himself. As innocuous as the formula appeared, the physical product was even less impressive, nothing more than a pale yellow powder. Appearance aside, the potential was impressive. The preservative could change the way vaccines were produced and help stem epidemics through mass production of vaccines. It could be his way to pay for medical school, but one hurdle remained. He harbored a shallow trust for the man that assured him that he could quietly facilitate the sale of his formula. There was also a more, one-sided, personal problem Trent knew he could never resolve. The man that potentially held the key to his future terrified him. In exactly seven days, they would meet again. Richard Gurzi was coming to Minneapolis.
Chapter 4
June 4, 1927
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Allowing himself an infrequent personal luxury, Trent was determined to take a taxi to his meeting with Richard Gurzi. Standing curbside outside his apartment, he repeatedly waved off the older taxis. He had a newer model in mind and would wait.
Ten minutes passed before a brand new 1927 Ford Model T finally pulled curbside. He had never owned a car but, if his plan worked, a little window-shopping seemed appropriate. The taxi’s seats were spacious, the fabric more supple than anything he had ever seen as he marveled at the technology. All steel, the car had a dual crank, automatic starter, and bright red wooden spoke wheels. With crystal-clear mirror-like jet-black paint and a speedometer, it was a luxury that, until now, he could only dream of having. Just eight years old when the first “T” hit the streets in ‘08, an untamed excitement about his chances of owning such a vehicle continued to infest his mind, but he remained cautious. The ride across town to St. Paul could be a turning point in his life. All he needed was a little cooperation, and luck.
Outside, the dark evening sky slowly engulfed the rest of what had been a seamlessly sunny day. Without warning, the light rain succumbed to a typical mid-western downpour that began pelting the taxi’s windshield, but Trent’s mind was elsewhere. His capricious decision in early April to attend the annual American Chemical Society convention in Washington DC was about to pay off. He rarely gave the organization the time of day but, when he found that over eight thousand members would be attending, he saw an opportunity. While most attendees were chemists, they were there more to socialize rather than for the business at hand. They would eat, drink a few beers, and go home. Trent was there because most major drug company representatives would be there looking for new talent and ideas. He did not want a job, he had one. Swapping employers would not solve his dissatisfaction for his career choice, but he did have an idea that, if he could sell it, could help expedite a change in lifestyle.
The taxi made a sharp turn onto Market Street toward the Rice Park District. Just as the towering St. Paul Hotel came into view, a loud jolt of thunder slammed a shockwave through the taxi and only heightened Trent’s nervousness. Since meeting Gurzi at April’s convention, they had maintained regular communications by phone but, in a few minutes, they would meet one-on-one for only the second time. If there were any other way to finance medical school, Trent was certain he would have favored a different road. While they were both twenty-seven years old, he held little in common with Gurzi. The man made him very uncomfortable, but he had no other options. For the next sixty minutes, Gurzi held his future in his hands.
Chapter 5
June 6, 1927
Indianapolis, Indiana
It was high noon. At Josiah’s age, the heat was always a welcome friend to his sixty-six year old frame. He sat quietly on the smaller of two ornate sun-warmed benches next to the family mausoleum. Today marked the twenty-ninth anniversary of his father’s burial, a day he always set aside to visit. One of the first lessons he received from his father was the importance of learning from the past. Reflection and projection, he repeated to himself, as if the Colonel could hear. Today would be all about business. New ideas and strategies frequently came to him during these one-sided reflections. He had no reason to believe this day would be any different.
Leaning back, Josiah closed his eyes. The sun warmed his face as his mind wandered. He knew the majority of the company’s recent successes could be traced to what he considered to be the two most important decisions he had made since the Colonel’s death. The first was eight years earlier when he decided to hire a director of biochemical research to explore new opportunities in pharmaceuticals. The second was hiring his son, Eli. Being careful to ensure that being the son of the president and grandson of the company’s founder did not grease Eli’s slide, Eli was treated the same as any non-professional hire. He started in the warehouse. An eager student, Eli soon justified his movement up the corporate ladder. His progress had always been rewarded based on merit, not his birthright.
Josiah flashed back to 1922, when two scientists from the University of Toronto developed a new experimental pancreatic extract and gave it to a diabetic teenager who became the first person ever to receive an injection of insulin. The extract quickly induced dramatic curing effects on the lad, and other diabetic patients were soon treated with similar results. The news about insulin spread throughout the country like an untamed wildfire. While the scientists were awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine for their efforts, their contribution was not perfect. Insulin could only be produced in small quantities, a problematic opportunity he quickly turned over to Eli.
Because of Eli’s keen insight, he was able to convince management to allow him to establish a trial relationship with other
