The virus hunter: In a bygone era, C.J. Peters learned how to bend the rules
GALVESTON, Texas — Drive a few minutes from the seawall here, where the Gulf of Mexico crashes into this island city, and follow some meandering streets through a subdivision of graceful, low-slung homes. Look for the one with the Mardi Gras doll hanging beside the front door.
There you will find a scientific mind of the first order.
At 77, Clarence James Peters, known as C.J., is getting on, walking with more deliberate steps than in his earlier years. But he can still recount in sharp detail anecdotes from a career in which he flew through mountain passes to perilous landing strips and trudged to remote villages. By the time he returned home, he had stolen from Mother Nature some of the secrets of diseases including Bolivian hemorrhagic fever and Rift Valley fever.
Peters was a virus hunter. That often meant spending time in the field, mostly in Latin America but also in Africa, where the work was interesting and the bosses far away. “If you’re in the shadow of the flagpole from headquarters, you’re in trouble,” he explained. “Because there will be somebody poking into everything you’re doing.”
Virus hunting today is not what it used to be. There is still adventure to be had, with bold scientists seeking to uncover the mysteries of the unseen world and ultimately benefit human health. But things have
