Clement Alfred Finch

Clement Alfred Finch

Photo courtesy of the Finch family and American Society of Hematology Obituary Clement Alfred Finch Haematologist and authority on the role of iron ...

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Photo courtesy of the Finch family and American Society of Hematology

Obituary

Clement Alfred Finch Haematologist and authority on the role of iron in the body. Born on July 4, 1915, in Broadalbin, NY, USA, he died on June 28, 2010, at La Jolla, CA, USA, aged 94 years. As current holder of the Clement A Finch professorship of medicine at Seattle’s University of Washington, Janis Abkowitz has a perpetual reminder of the man to whom she owes the fellowship that launched her own career in haematology. But it’s inconceivable that she’d have forgotten the individual who, in 1980, interviewed her for the job. “Dr Finch was doing an experiment on himself when I arrived, looking at how anaemia affects exercise tolerance. He’d bled himself and he was on a treadmill.” At that stage of his career, she adds, Finch sometimes used himself as an experimental subject. “He thought it was ethical because he understood the risks and benefits. His informed consent was very informed.” This unusual meeting aside, she mainly remembers Finch—as do others in haematology—for his wide-ranging contributions to an understanding of the role of iron in the body’s biochemistry and physiology in health and disease. “He showed the power of iron as a trace element, and how critical it is for the body to acquire, preserve, and recycle it. He was the father of the field of iron in biology.” John Adamson, haematologist and clinical professor of medicine in the University of California at San Diego, shares that assessment. He first met Finch in the early 1960s when the latter was a still fairly young head of Washington University’s division of haematology. In 1980, Adamson went 510

on to succeed Finch in that role, but kept in touch with him. “His key contributions had to do with defining the role of iron in human nutrition, going beyond the purely haematologic. He fastened on iron as a key nutrient. He also became quite taken with the fact that one could follow its metabolism by using its radioactive isotopes. In experimental animals and in man he used this to define the pathways of its metabolism. He went on to give precise definitions of iron deficiency, iron deficiency anaemia, and their diagnosis and treatment.” Finch also looked at the prevalence of iron deficiency in whole populations, advising WHO on its effects in developing countries. And he categorised anaemias by what came to be known as the Seattle classification. His influence was felt too in iron overload disorders, polycythaemias, and many other conditions. “No-one knew more about the physiology of iron”, says Adamson. Small wonder that Finch was sometimes affectionately referred to as “Mr Iron”. He trained at the University of Rochester Medical School where, in his second year, he was offered a brief fellowship working with George Whipple, winner of a Nobel Prize for his work on haemoglobin regeneration. While still a student Finch published his findings in the Journal of Experimental Medicine. One might imagine that it must have been this flying start in haematology that determined his subsequent choice of occupation. In fact, when he left Rochester to work at Peter Bent Brigham Hospital in Boston it was with thoughts of becoming a surgeon. His attempt to join the armed forces was thwarted by a mycoplasma infection. It was only then that he began to consider haematology as a career. He got a fellowship at Boston University and began working on the preservation of donated blood. His long stint at the University of Washington began in 1948 with the offer of a chance to set up and run a new haematology division on which he could impress his own ideas about teaching and research. He stayed until retirement, closing the laboratory when he was 70 years old. Adamson looks back on Finch with admiration as well as affection. “He was a quiet man, not given to long sentences with lots of words. He was very thoughtful, scrupulously honest. He would go back and do experiments over again to be sure he’d got them right. He had a way identifying what seemed like bits of disparate information, and tying them together better than anyone I’ve ever met. Out of that would come a new hypothesis.” Adamson and Abkowitz both recall Finch’s occasional eccentricity. He would move between hospitals on a Vespa scooter, and had been known to do his rounds wearing lederhosen. “He was six foot five, so when people describe him as a giant they mean physically as well”, says Abkowitz. “And he epitomised the concept of the physician scientist.” Finch is survived by his wife, Genia, and by four children of this and a previous marriage.

Geoff Watts geoff@scileg.freeserve.co.uk

www.thelancet.com Vol 376 August 14, 2010