Jekal & Mr. Simkhovitch

Last week California glared out again in the news as the favorite stamping ground of obscure young scientists who bemuse the nation by bringing "dead" animals back to life. Of all places in the world, Hollywood seemed the ideal spot for the spectacular experiments conducted for the past fortnight by young Dr. Ralph Stanley Willard.

Two weeks ago, Dr. Willard said, he took an ill-tempered, 20-lb. rhesus monkey named Jekal, asphyxiated it with ether, injected sodium citrate into its veins to prevent its blood from coagulating. When the animal's breathing and circulation had stopped, a chiropractor pronounced it "dead." Then Dr. Willard popped Jekal into an icebox where the temperature was kept at -- 30DEG C. ( -- 22DEG F.). Five days later he removed the small, rigid, grey clump of fur & flesh from the refrigerator, invited newshawks to watch the proceedings, began to thaw it slowly in a chamber equipped with heating coils and a fan. When the body was warm and pliant, Dr. Willard gave the monkey a blood transfusion, then injected adrenalin chloride solution into the belly.

Jekal opened his mouth, gagged.

Dr. Willard injected an ounce of anterior pituitary fluid.

Jekal grimaced, twitched spasmodically.

"Alive!" exulted Dr. Willard. He filled his hypodermic with posterior pituitary fluid, administered that.

Jekal coughed, tried to sit up.

The final injection was vaguely identified by Dr. Willard as a sex hormone from sheep. In an hour, Jekal sat up, fingered the adhesive tape on his belly, stared about vacantly. In a day or two the creature was back in its cage, apparently none the worse for wear. In a corner of the laboratory lay the body of another monkey named Matilda, its belly turning blue. Matilda had been "frozen too fast." was dead beyond repair. In the icebox was a third stiff monkey named Gaston, which Dr. Willard did not intend to revive until after a ten-day congealment.

The experimenter's declared purpose was to learn whether tuberculosis, cancer and syphilis might not be cured by prolonged freezing. Before entering the icebox Jekal was tuberculous. After his resuscitation Dr. Willard examined the blood for tubercle bacilli, found none. It was his theory that cold inactivated the germs, prevented them from propagating.

Newshawks who spread this fat tale through the fairyland of the tabloids had little or nothing to say as to whether Jekal had actually died, by sound biological standards. The traditional definition of death is a careful one: "Permanent cessation of all vital activity." Stoppage of breathing and circulation are not reliable signs of death. Prison doctors may pronounce an electrocuted criminal "dead"' when the heart stops but an immediate autopsy is always performed to make sure. Even when death is indubitable and permanent the actual moment when life ceases is vague because organs and cells outlive the individual. Apparently the brain and liver die first, then the heart, next the skeletal muscle, then the stomach and intestines, then the cartilage and bone, finally the skin. The fingernails of corpses sometimes keep growing for days after burial. Stopped human hearts have been restarted time & again by adrenalin, electric needles, manipulation. It is true that no human has been revived after rigor mortis has set in, but scientists hesitate to call any organism dead until actual breakdown of tissue has started.

Judged by such criteria Dr. Willard's Jekal was not dead in his icebox, because presumably the preliminary asphyxiation had failed to start decomposition. The hard-headed scientific view seemed to be that if Jekal was really as cold as Dr. Willard said he was, the blood would have frozen and expanded, rupturing the blood vessels, and that in any case it was extremely unlikely that a warm-blooded animal could chemically survive the formation of ice crystals in the blood.

Ralph S. Willard was born in Georgia, in Southern Russia, 32 years ago, looks not unlike a composite picture of his renowned compatriots, the Brothers Mdivani. He studied chemistry at College of the City of New York, was employed for a time at Columbia University, drifted into experiments with frozen animals, starting with guinea pigs. He was preparing to freeze dogs when humane societies interfered. Then he turned to monkeys. Said he last week: "When I know that it will not fail, I will try a human being." He announced a four-point program: 1) Freezing long-term prisoners to save the cost of upkeep; 2) freezing armies of jobless to await better times; 3) freezing curious persons who would like to come to life in subsequent centuries; 4) freezing would-be suicides in the hope that congealment would cure their despondency.

His words had hardly been slapped into newsprint when 180 persons volunteered for icebox treatment. The one selected by Dr. Willard, pending financing and de-velopment of apparatus for handling humans, was a burly, brooding scenario writer named Stephen Simkhovitch. Said Volunteer Simkhovitch: "I wish to know what happens when a person dies and I want to be able to come back and tell of these happenings. Life itself is unimportant. I want to do something for humanity for a change." Attorneys drew up a contract purporting to free Dr. Willard of responsibility if things went wrong.

Stephen Simkhovitch is a son of Dr. Vladimir Gregorievitch Simkhovitch, professor of economic history at Columbia University. Stephen's mother is bustling, pompadoured Mrs. Mary Melinda Kingsbury Simkhovitch, founder and head of Manhattan's Greenwich House (social welfare), president of the National Public Housing Conference. Informed at her summer home in Maine of her son's intention, she said it was her impression that Stephen was not doing very well in his career, added: "I can only hope it is some publicity venture in the way of scenario writing."

Nevertheless, she telegraphed a protest to the Los Angeles authorities. Dr. George Parrish, Hollywood health officer, observed: "Dr. Willard is entering a dangerous field. I am sure the law would not permit him to carry his human guinea pig idea any further than the exploitation stage."

At this point, as if to prove himself as lively as ever, Jekal somehow escaped from Dr. Willard's cluttered little laboratory, ran wildly through the corridors of an office building, snarling and baring his long fangs. Frightened tenants telephoned police. Dr. Willard arrived, calmly picked up Jekal, returned him to his cage.

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