Posted on Tuesday, January 8th, 2013 at 4:28 pm by Williams Hart
Researchers at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) are working on a new form of technology which could help identify certain cancers earlier and may mean a major breakthrough for cancer research and treatment.
This technology, which is in the beginning stages of development, is based on nanoparticles, which work to amplify or augment certain proteins found within cancer cells, allowing doctors and medical professionals to more easily detect mesothelioma and other types of cancer through simple urine tests. As mesothelioma is well known for being extremely difficult to detect, especially early on, this new system of biomarker detection could be a major medical development.
As of yet, there are no reliable ways to easily identify mesothelioma early on. In most cases, when the disease is finally diagnosed, it has progressed to the point that it is no longer treatable. If you or someone you love has developed mesothelioma as a result of negligent exposure to asbestos, you should call a mesothelioma attorney of Williams Hart at (800) 220-9341 to discuss your legal options.
Posted on Wednesday, December 7th, 2011 at 11:39 am by Williams Hart
“They fought together as brothers-in-arms, they died together, and now they sleep side by side. To them we have a solemn obligation,”
– Admiral Chester Nimitz
Most have never heard this quote, inscribed on a plaque at the Admiral Nimitz Museum of the Pacific War in Fredericksburg, Texas. Few could tell you to what it refers. Even fewer could tell you they truly understand it. I don’t mean grasp it at an intellectual level, but truly know it, to honestly feel it, to experience it down to one’s soul. But one man, 88 year old Frank Curre, lived it.
For 70 years, Frank Curre honored that solemn obligation. Through Frank, generations of Americans have lived December 7, 1941. At 18 years old, Frank Curre was a boson’s mate on the USS Tennessee stationed at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. As a teenager, Frank was tested more than most of us will be in our entire lives. Barely able to shave, he witnessed more death, experienced more suffering, and knew more tragedy than could be fairly asked of any man by his country. Frank did it and never asked for a thank you, he just asked that we remember, and he did his best to make sure that happened.
Frank told audiences of millions about that infamous day, either in documentaries in which he appeared, like Ken Burns’ “The War”, or through the middle and high school classes to which he appeared every Memorial or Veteran’s day. Frank even granted my own two sons a private audience. For an hour, in the living room of his modest home in Waco, Texas, my boys sat in rapt attention as they listened to Frank make December 7, 1941 come alive. My 9 and 12 year old sons, whose attention spans would make a gnat’s life seem an eternity, sat mesmerized for an hour, as Frank made them feel what he felt. Frank had the remarkable ability to transfer the emotion of that day to these two boys whose only understanding of war up until that moment, and I pray for their entire lives, is what they played on their favorite video game. For the first time it was real. My sons knew these heroic men through Frank, they smelled what they smelled, they sweated and feared for Frank Curre himself, wondering if he would come out of it alive, even as they sat listening to him tell it. Frank told them about war in a way they didn’t get in history class at school, or in a sanitized video game that glorifies the experience as much as it desensitizes it. My youngest son, born on December 7th, afterwards turned to me and said, “Daddy, my birthday was the first 9-11 a long time ago.” While it saddened me to think that one of the greatest days of my life, the day Nicholas Chandler came to us, would ever be associated in his mind as “the first 9-11,” I thank God he met Frank Curre, one of the greatest teachers either of us will ever know.
Today, we remember, Frank Curre. I was not at all surprised to receive a call from his daughter yesterday afternoon telling me that hospice now believes Mr. Curre would not live through the night. I was not surprised because for a couple of days now Frank has been speaking to his wife, Elma Louise. Elma was his wife of 50 years, but she passed on years ago. I have heard the same story many times. The families of those I represent will often tell me that their father or mother was having conversations with, or visits from, relatives lost long ago. The visits are always comforting and bring peace, but the families usually dismiss them as delusions brought on by pain medications or advanced disease. I don’t pretend to have a greater understanding of such matters than my mortal condition allows, but I find solace in the thought that we all may just have angels waiting for us to make our transition easier.
I was also not surprised to have spoken to Frank’s daughter moments ago and to have learned that he did survive the night, but that he died just a short time ago. No one who knew Frank Curre doubted for a second that he would make it to December 7th. Either through divine intervention, or shear force of will, and what is likely a partnership of the two, Frank lived to see December 7th again.
I met Mr. Curre over a year ago; that I am writing about him as he is alive today is something of a miracle itself. You see, Frank had mesothelioma, an invariably fatal form of cancer caused by asbestos, or as much by the profit earned with it, as by the magic mineral itself. Mesothelioma is an unforgiving and invariably fatal form of cancer that in many cases takes its victims within months of a diagnosis. That Mr. Curre lived to see the 70th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor is as much a tribute to his indomitable spirit as it is the wonderful medical care and family support he received.
The seed of this cancer was planted 70 years ago at Pearl Harbor as Frank ran from ship to ship trying to save his buddies. Each blow of a torpedo released the asbestos that would one day take his life and that covered the miles of steam lines so ubiquitous in naval vessels of the day. That day, Frank survived bombs dropped on his ship, torpedo’s blasted through its hulls, fire raging throughout bulkheads and on the surface of the water, but he could not survive the asbestos cancer. Nor did it help that after the war he came home to a job that required him to work with asbestos on a daily basis. At work he faced a silent killer, no obvious explosions, fire, or his buddies’ screams to warn of the danger sellers of asbestos had not. The imperial forces of Japan took his life that day, and the forces of greed piled on after, they just didn’t know Frank was too damn stubborn to stick around for 70 more years to tell everyone about it.
There are days, like those that I meet men like Frank Curre, that I Love my job as an advocate for people with mesothelioma. I thank God everyday that I am blessed to know and help men like Frank and their families. So many, who like Frank, gave so much and asked for nothing in return. I am better for the experience of them in my life. But, there are days that I dread, like today, as I stand a post on the grizzly watch of death that I have stood for far too many now, waiting for the call to tell me that their asbestos lawsuit is a wrongful death case now.
To know Frank Curre is to be infected by his optimism and a new appreciation for what you have taken for granted in your life everyday until the day you met him. Frank embodied the idea that everyday is a gift, every person is precious, and the God in all life matters. It is an understanding that only those that have stared death in the face and have beaten it back seem to truly know. But Frank’s life was lived to tell each of us that we do not need to live through what he did, to truly be alive. We do not have to know death, to experience life. We must not wait for tragedy, to experience Joy. For 70 years, Frank woke up everyday appreciating that day for what it was, a God-given gift, each and every hour of it, every breath taken in it, and every precious experience granted by it.
Frank ended every presentation he gave, whether to a middle school, or a television camera, by quoting Admiral Nimitz’ plaque from the museum, then he would add, “Me personally, I can think of no greater honor on this earth than to lie side by side with all those magnificent and courageous individuals that I had the God-given privilege of serving with in World War II, ” and so now he will. For all those you touched in your 88 years Frank, we can think of no greater honor on this earth than to have known you. Thank you, my friend. May God keep you and your family in his loving embrace on this day, and all the days that follow.
Posted on Friday, November 11th, 2011 at 12:54 pm by Williams Hart
Two thousand years ago a great advocate died to make his case. He could be called the greatest trial lawyer of all time, for his life was a great trial indeed. He litigated the merits of good versus evil, and offered his sacrifice as the ultimate advocacy on behalf of his clients. His resurrection was the ultimate proof of the validity of his claim.
His case was simple. God loves you, and whosoever shall believe in him will never die. He made his argument although he labored under the ultimate burden of proof, “No greater love has one man for another than to lay down his life for him.” His crucifixion and resurrection was a three day summation, the greatest closing argument of all time.
You carry on his work today. You sacrifice your labor, your sweat, and many times your tears, to prove your case and to make the lives of your clients better. We have a great example to follow. You fight the good fight. Your sacrifices are worth it. You make a difference.
Posted on Monday, October 3rd, 2011 at 11:04 am by Williams Hart
Salvador Juarez was diagnosed with mesothelioma in June of 2007. After spreading God’s word as a pastor for several decades, he developed this deadly form of cancer related to his exposure to asbestos. He was exposed to asbestos as a merchant marine in the late 1940s and early 1950s, then again while doing work at the homes of members of his congregation that needed help and in building and remodeling churches. He fought hard against this cancer, but lost the battle in October, only 4 months after the diagnosis. He was determined to have his family donate a portion of the funds received as settlements in his lawsuit to his church, directly across the street from his house. They did, and on Sunday, August 23, 2009, I was invited to the dedication of the newly remodeled fellowship hall for the church.
I was happy just to be invited and brought my camera to take pictures of the event to show others in my office who also worked on Mr. Juarez’s case. Imagine my surprise when I was asked to cut the ribbon for this dedication. As happy as the church and family were with the work we did on the case, it doesn’t compare to the happiness in knowing what you do on a daily basis can help in so many ways.
Whether its a newly remodeled church, a college education for a grandchild, much needed home repairs, or a much-needed vacation to see family or friends just one last time, the settlements we are able to obtain can do a lot of good for people whose lives have been irreversibly changed, through no fault of their own.
Posted on Sunday, October 2nd, 2011 at 9:22 pm by Williams Hart
"What happened that day is tattooed on my soul. I don't know why the good Lord saved me that day and not them boys to either side of me. I figure maybe he wanted me to be a messenger, so we might never forget, and so that something like this might never happen again. So I am going to tell our story as long as I have breath in my body. I owe it to the ones who never made it home."
Boson's Mate Curre was barely 18 years old on December 7, 1941, and according to Frank, "Never thought he'd live to see 18 and a half."
Now, 87 years old, Frank Curre is losing the breath he needs to tell his story. In November, this otherwise healthy and very active Pearl Harbor survivor was diagnosed with Mesothelioma, a rare form of cancer caused by asbestos. Mesothelioma disproportionately strikes our Navy veterans due to exposure they suffered to asbestos used as insulation throughout naval ships. Frank survived the attacks on December 7, 1941, but now faces a more determined enemy, one that has never signed an unconditional surrender, and one not susceptible to the will of a nation hell bent on retribution, if not its very survival. Mesothelioma has claimed the lives of thousands of our Greatest Generation, and many more from the generations that followed. It is an insidious and invariably fatal cancer whose origin is found as much in the search for profit as in the magic mineral itself. Frank Curre offered his life to his country many years ago, now, so many decades later, those who profited from the sale of asbestos will take it.
Frank has made it his life's mission to "always remember, and to never forget, those brave and magnificent men with whom [he] had the God-given honor to serve." Frank explains, "I tell the story to the children at schools and I tell it in a way they won't read about in history books, not in a sanitized way, but with all the graphic and vivid detail that is seared into my memory. I want them to know how bad it really was, so that maybe they will never have to experience anything like it ever again."
We are all better for the Frank Curre's of the world. Frank demurs, "I ain't no hero, the heroes are them boys that never made it home. I just want everybody to know them, if even for a moment, through my own experiences."
Frank wants you to understand he is a fighter, a believer in causes greater than himself, and a follower of what he knows is a compassionate and loving God. So he wants you to know he intends to tell those who will listen what so many went through on that fateful day in 1941, and in the months and years that followed. And he will do so for as many days as he is allowed to do so, he feels he owes it to his friends who could not be here to tell the story themselves.
Posted on Sunday, October 2nd, 2011 at 9:00 pm by Williams Hart
A former doctor at the National Institutes of Heath has recently been found guilty of a felony by violation of 18 USC §1001, Making a False Statement on his Financial Disclosure Forms. Dr. Jack W. Snyder faces a sentence of one year of probation, a $200,000 fine, and 160 hours of community service after pleading guilty to the charges. While working as a government employee, Dr. Snyder was not allowed to hold any other outside jobs without the permission of his boss and ethics officals within the National Institutes of Heath. Dr. Snyder ignored this rule and began testifying on behalf of companies involved in asbestos litigation. A full summary of his actions can be seen in this document.
According to supporting documents, Dr. Snyder was paid around $600,000 from these clients, who were commonly defendants in asbestos litigation. Dr. Snyder posed as an expert witness in at least six cases and claimed that the asbestos his clients used in their products was incapable of causing mesothelioma. His employer, the National Institute of Health, has quite a different take on the danger of asbestos and its ability to cause mesothelioma. In fact, asbestos is currently the only known cause of mesothelioma.
The blatant lies that Dr. Snyder made under oath outraged me. I promptly sent letters to Dr. Snyder's boss, the Director of the National Institutes of Health, Dr. Elias Zerhouni, and the Office of Inspector General. We called for an immediate investigation into Dr. Snyder's side work as a consultant.
My letter eventually caught the eye of the U.S. Attorney and an official investigation was launched to uncover the legality behind of Dr. Snyder's actions. According to the investigation, Dr. Snyder was running a private consulting practice out of his government office and home, and was earning a higher income testifying for asbestos product manufacturers than he ever had as a government doctor. Dr. Snyder was recently convicted of one count violating 18 USC §1001, Making a False Statement on his Financial Disclosure Forms.