Fostering Future Scientists

At Cornell, a nurturing scientific community was never hard to find. Two decades later I’m trying to do the same 

Facebook might be considered “old school” these days– but that is what I am. So, I was intrigued and pleased to see a story (and video) on Facebook about my mentor and friend Dr. Gary Blissard retiring from 35 years at the Boyce Thompson Institute (BTI) on the Cornell University campus. When I was a graduate student at Cornell, Gary’s Lab and his guidance became crucial to me finishing my PhD project. I essentially got to do experiments in Gary’s lab without being a member of the lab, and his generosity made all the difference in my science and in my sanity. 

As Facebook described him, Dr. Blissard is a renowned virologist whose groundbreaking research has shaped the fields of insect virology, molecular biology, and biotechnology. He joined BTI in 1990 and held adjunct professorships at Cornell University in the Departments of Entomology and Microbiology & Immunology. Over a 35- year career, he became internationally known for his work on baculoviruses—viruses that infect insects and serve as tools for pest control and protein production. His research revealed how viral envelope proteins like GP64 and F facilitate virus entry into cells and exit from cells, providing key insights into virus-host interactions.

The “old school” aspect of our collaboration came by way of a modern invention way back in the mid-1990’s called “the World Wide Web,” that  amazing outcome from the “Information Age”. Yes, the Internet was NEW then and on one of the only two PCs shared between 15 people, I searched for information about baculovirus insect-cell line protein expression systems as well as Pichia pastoris (yeast) systems. I had come to the point of not being able to harvest enough flower parts to extract a certain trans-membrane protein from the stigma surface cells. It was a frustrating collection process. To get material, we had to collect  the tiniest of Brassica flowers, about the size of a dime, from a greenhouse miles away. The stability of the flower incompatibility response lasted only a short while with a protein-modulated self-incompatibility fertilization system that was easily broken down. If you had flowers in bloom and collected them in the warm greenhouse, you then had to protect them from the cold Ithaca winter when walking back to campus. The collection of the even smaller stigmas, the sticky tops of the flowers, where the priceless protein resided was done with a scalpel, the collection from a day or even a week would be so small, and the protein from that, separated on a preparative isoelectric focusing gel, was even smaller yet. 

After many protein isolations trials, it was time to abandon the small amount of native material and work on a recombinant DNA production system to study the molecules. Recombinant DNA work means that you introduce the gene or genes of interest into  in a foreign but related system, one that was a higher-level organism than a simple bacterial production, so that there was the ability to have the proteins both glycosylated and fold properly.  This is where the choice of two systems (Pichia and Baculovirus) led me, with a few clicks of my entry-level computer, to the Baculovirus homepage at Cornell University. WOW!  I couldn’t believe my “luck” as here was a lab just a 5-minute walk from me (and half-way to the greenhouse!) I made good use of the also fairly new tool called “email” and sent a note to the lab; one of Gary’s students sent me the most welcoming response and the next day I walked down there, and into my future. I was a student saved by serendipity in science.

Not only was I welcome to use their  lab, but I was also invited, in short measure, to participate in their lab meetings (with wonderful colleagues I still keep in touch with) and to establish my own baculovirus-infected insect cell line to express my plant proteins to finish my thesis work. The use of their reagents was not a concern;  all of Cornell University labs were  open and sharing of supplies, which was in line with my experience as a lab assistant many years earlier under another mentor, Andre Jagendorf. Because of the nature of the cell culture work I was doing, I was able to also facilitate the growth of a very important (special vials were frozen under liquid nitrogen for years) hybridoma antibody-producing cell line which allowed me to do confocal microscopy in a demonstration of the orientation of this plant protein. Yes, I finished my Ph.D. I then continued a friendship connection as I ventured into my postdoctoral program at the USDA lab across the street. I was able to also interact with other scientists in the baculovirus community which were connected to scientists that I met at my Charles River company. “Small world” they say, well it is even a smaller world of scientists.

Why is it important to be welcomed into a science “situation”? I certainly had a home in my own lab, but this was like a “Foster Home” lab setting of support and inclusion and opportunity. I got to participate in both a home lab and an “away” lab. I will always remember their generosity and try to extend this to others who many come to my lab for help. I remember the feeling of “separating my science from my situation” and the hope of new experiments making progress, additional colleagues who became lifelong friends, and yet another continual connection to the science community.

I could not help but remember this experience when I stepped into my own sabbatical lab experience to learn Next Generation sequencing, one year ago this month. I encountered again the generous sharing of knowledge and supplies and space and projects and friendships. A home lab and a new lab. Coincidentally this month colleagues at my site are starting to put together birthday boxes for children in Foster Homes, a generous donation and volunteer activity by Charles River to give back to the community. These children are getting support from open and caring families. They are being celebrated. This is how I felt, and still feel, when I remember being absorbed into a caring community, especially a science community, several times over. 

The Facebook post summed up Gary’s contributions as an educator perfectly. He mentored dozens of postdocs, graduate students, and other scientists at BTI and Cornell, many of whom now lead research in academia and industry. He also served as BTI’s Vice President for Research, shaping the institute’s scientific vision. Dr. Blissard leaves behind a legacy of innovation, mentorship, and collaboration. His contributions have advanced science and agriculture alike, and his impact will be felt for decades to come.

His contributions include me where 27 years later, and hopefully for decades to come, I still appreciate all that he and his group did for me.

Thanks Gary! Thank you, Science!