HeLa, goddess of death
- Juliet Hays

- 23 hours ago
- 4 min read

Henrietta Lacks died on October 4, 1951. Her autopsy report, though disturbing, contained an eerily glamorous description of her innards: every organ, beginning with her cervix, was dotted with glimmering pearls. However, to the dismay of Henrietta and her family, these were pearls of death…but not for scientists.
Henrietta’s cells were lesioned from her cervix months prior to her death. She had been receiving treatment at Johns Hopkins “colored ward” for a persistent adenocarcinoma, a strain of tumor that stems from HPV-18. At the time, scientists were radically debating the origins of cervical cancer and—because informed consent would not become solidified as a patient right until 1972—were taking samples from nearly every patient in the gynecology department. Henrietta, completely unaware of this reality, became one of many women whose cells would fall subject to profuse investigation. However, whereas most cell samples died within days, Henreitta’s cells (dubbed HeLa) lasted significantly longer. In fact, her cells not only outlived her, but also her children. At this very moment in time, 75 years later, her cells are still dividing.
There are several theories as to why Henrietta Lacks, a tobacco farmer from Virginia, achieved—for lack of better words—a state of immortality. Some theorize that it is due to the nature of her cancer, specifically relating to its origination from HPV-18. With this said, the specifics of these theories lie largely in conjecture. Truthfully, science cannot completely explain the immortality of HeLa, at least not with confidence. However, even from a place of relative ignorance, science has reaped copious benefits from HeLa since its birth in the mid-20th century.
Up until HeLa’s emergence, medical advancement hinged largely on preclinical trials. This meant that immunotherapies, vaccines, and technologies were tested almost exclusively on animal subjects. Human trials were few and far between, many of which being vastly unethical (even for the time). In the years 1932-1972, for example, one study investigated the natural progression of untreated syphilis. This meant that patients—told they were receiving free treatment for a blood disorder—were essentially let to die in order to more fully understand the nature of the disease. With HeLa, studies of this nature became unnecessary. Because the cell line was human, scientists could observe how different factors interacted with our physiology with little ethical concern.
The impact of HeLa became a global epidemic. Just like Henrietta’s cancer radically metastisized, the scope of HeLa’s influence became almost oppressive. All medical studies involved some form of cell culturing, many of which hoped to chase the “fountain of youth” that HeLa implied. The sudden hyperfixation on “immortal cells” led to a spike in cell research that enabled many pivotal medical advancements, notably the polio vaccine. However, some studies focused more on the creation of new strains of immortal cell than on investigating HeLa. Worldwide, nations were claiming to have discovered immortal cells of varying tissues—some cancerous, some healthy—as well as cells that were believed to be genetically dissimilar to HeLa. For this reason, a crippling number of cell studies were released between the years of 1951 and 1966. But like all good things, this era of bliss—to the detriment of researchers across the globe—was bound to come to an end.
In 1966, geneticist Stanley Gartler dropped what is now known as the “HeLa bomb.” Upon studying HeLa and the various new cell cultures that were emerging, Gartler made a discovery that would alter the trajectory of cellular research for years to come. Every single strain of ‘immortal cell,’ regardless of origin, shared a genetic marker called G6PD-A that was historically exclusive to black Americans. This was significant because the only immortal cell line that originated from a black American was HeLa, raising questions as to if somehow the new cell lines were contaminated by their predecessor. Sooner or later, scientists found that not only were the ‘immortal cells’ contaminated by HeLa, but they were completely taken over. This meant that decades of cellular research—believed to be encompassing a multitude of cell varieties—was all HeLa centric. Thus, many genetic studies and scientific theories became entirely invalid.
HeLa could travel on specs of dust. It could breach sterile conditions and metastasize in almost any environment. In order to prevent another HeLa bomb, science was forced to adopt extreme measures. The security of cells was promptly increased, and lab spaces became increasingly strict. Ultimately, this benefitted medical research, creating an environment that minimized the impact of external influences on careful study. Even so, scientists were rightfully upset that HeLa had become so powerful, and many were slow to accept the invalidation of their scientific ‘discoveries.’
HeLa both created and destroyed an epoch of medical research, raising questions not only about cellular biology, but about human ethicality as well. There is a poetic irony to the story of HeLa, and one that cannot be fully explained in the length of this article. An appropriate summary would be this: In Marvel, Hela is a goddess of death. In real life, this remains true, but is simultaneously false. Henrietta’s “pearls of death” were tumors. Those tumors are still alive, and will likely outlive anyone who reads this article. Even now, we do not fully understand why, and it is possible that we never will.
Sources:
Skloot, R. (2010). The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Crown.






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