When a waiting world learned on April 12, 1955, that Jonas Salk had created a
vaccine that could prevent poliomyelitis, he became a hero overnight. Jubilation
erupted worldwide, with Salk as the focus. Born in a New York tenement, humble
in manner, Salk had all the makings of a twentieth-century icon--a white knight
in a white coat. In the wake of his achievement, he received a staggering number
of awards, a Congressional Gold Medal, a Presidential Citation; for years his
name ranked with Gandhi and Churchill on lists of the most revered people. And
yet the one group whose adulation he craved--the scientific community--remained
ominously silent. "The worst tragedy that could have befallen me was my
success," Salk later said. "I knew right away that I was through--cast out." In the first complete biography of Jonas Salk, Charlotte DeCroes Jacobs unravels
his complexities and nuances to reveal an unconventional scientist and a
misunderstood and vulnerable man. Despite his incredible success, all but
eradicating a crippling disease from the world, Salk was ostracized by the
scientific community. Its esteemed members accused him of two transgressions:
failing to give proper credit to other researchers, and crossing the imaginary
line of academic decorum by soliciting media attention. Even before his success
catapulted him into the limelight, Salk was an enigmatic man disliked by many of
his peers. Driven by an intense desire to aid mankind, Jacobs writes, he was
initially oblivious and eventually resigned to the personal cost--as well as the
costs suffered by his family and friends. And yet Salk remained, in the eyes of
the public, an adored hero. Was Jonas Salk an American saint or a self-absorbed man who connived to assure
himself a place in medical history? Granted unprecedented access to Salk's
sealed archives and having conducted hundreds of personal interviews, Jacobs
offers a more complete picture of the complicated figure than has previously
existed. Salk's full story has not yet been recounted, Jacobs shows. His
historical role in preventing polio has overshadowed his part in co-developing
the first influenza vaccine--for which he never fully got credit; his effort to
meld the sciences and humanities in the magnificent Salk Institute; and his
pioneering work on AIDS, all carried out amidst scientific back-room politics
with the health of the public at stake. Jacobs crafts a vivid and intimate
portrait of this almost impenetrable man, showing him to be at once far more
complex and layered than the public image of America's hero and far more
sensitive and caring than the stubborn, standoffish, glory-seeking scoundrel
suggested by some scientists.
