When I was a Ph.D. student in the late 1960s, a scientist determined the exact DNA sequence that encoded the plan for part of a protein. He and his team sequenced 23 bases of DNA and it took them a year. We thought it was marvelous in concept and execution — and it was.The DNA sequence is a code, just like writing is a code. DNA usually gets translated into proteins, as alphabets get translated into sounds. Both codes have punctuation and the information in a genome and a novel are arranged in a strict order. Novels have chapters, genomes have chromosomes. Reading either code must be quick to be useful. I loved Moby Dick, but if it had taken me six months to read the opening words, “Call me Ishmael,” I would have quit. The striking command that opens the novel contains the alphabet equivalent of 15 DNA bases, including spaces. Even in the 1960s we knew that the human genome contained billions of bases (letters), so sequencing it was unimaginable.But human cleverness intervened. In the late 1970s, two methods to sequence DNA emerged. The one that won out was designed by a modest man named Fred Sanger in the U.K., for which he won his second Nobel Prize. Sanger made it possible to sequence hundreds of bases — the A,C,T and G chemical subunits that make up DNA and, significantly, do it in a couple of days. My lab used to do it and I remember that it involved a lot of radioactivity. It was still a long way from sequencing hundreds of bases to sequencing billions. But the technology improved, the radioactivity dropped out, sequencing became automated and computing improved so that vast amounts of data could be stored and searched. By 1990 it was possible to contemplate sequencing the human genome. The genome from one person was finally sequenced in 2001 and cost $3 billion taxpayer dollars — when that was a lot of money.Now it is becoming possible to sequence a person’s genome for $1,000, which means that $3 billion would be enough for half the population of Connecticut. There are companies who will do it for you. They are making a profit from the idea that your destiny is in your genes. Swab your cheek, send the swab and they will tell you the probability that you will have Parkinson’s disease in 30 years. My advice is: don’t do it. If you suspect that your family harbors some troublesome mutation, call a genetic counselor at a medical center who will advise you on the benefits and risks of DNA sequencing in your personal case. You will get more than a dubious probability.But does this brave new world of DNA sequencing ever justify the $3 billion we spent on it?Yes, actually. To give one example among many: two of my colleagues, Laura Pasqualucci and Riccardo Dalla-Favera are experts in lymphoma, which is a cancer of the cells that make antibodies. The formal name for such tumors is Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma. B cells usually mature and stop dividing as they make antibodies that protect us from infection, but sometimes they do not stop dividing and instead form tumors. Only half of the cases can be treated. What makes the untreatable cases different? Do they carry mutations that we don’t know about? If so, what critical cellular processes do the mutations affect?u u uWhen a cell starts to become malignant, it loses control over the maintenance of its DNA. To return to the literary metaphor, it is as if some mad compositor put “Call me Ishmael” in the middle of Moby Dick, shuffled paragraphs and chapters and threw in a lot of typos. The scrambling and mutation of DNA can wreck the normally tight mechanisms that control cell division, which is what happens in lymphoma.What Laura Riccardo and a large team of collaborators did was to recover the tumors of a number of patients and to sequence the DNA of each. This takes a large group of talented people, with scientific and computational acumen, and incredible organization. It depends completely on the information and technologies that were developed for the human genome project.By sequencing the DNA of eight lymphoma tumors, the team was able to figure out what new mutations each tumor contained. (It is, by the way, essential to sequence each bit of DNA many times to avoid errors.) On average, there were 30 specific new mutations in each tumor that had not been known before and they deregulated known biological processes. The authors learned a lot about the biology of the previously untreatable tumors. There are potential therapies to treat the effects of these newly discovered mutations, but nobody knew to use them. Now they do. So that $3 billion paid off in this and many other ways. Richard Kessin, Ph.D, is Professor of Pathology and Cell Biology at the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Columbia University. He and his wife Galene live in Norfolk. He can be contacted at rhk2@columbia.edu.
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One systemic consequence of slavery is the loss and obscuring of the histories of those who were enslaved. Records were often not kept about where Africans had been stolen from or who they were related to. Families were torn apart, leaving nothing but the faintest traces of the past. The delineation point, where genealogists can no longer trace histories back, is refered to this as the “document wall.”
Today, 250 years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence and more than 160 years since the Emancipation Proclamation, there is a growing effort to restore some of the history stripped from enslaved people and their descendants. Among the leaders of these efforts is Mills, president of the Alex Breanne Corporation, a nonprofit organization that works to identify previously anonymous Black Americans from history and connect them with their living relatives.
The work began with Mills’ sister, who started digging into their family’s past in the 1990’s and introduced him to this emerging world of genealogy. Through that process, the Mills family discovered their great-great-grandfather, Ned Mills, who had been enslaved in Texas. His last name came from his final enslaver and remains the family surname. Through their research, they found that the document wall directly affected their ancestor, who learned of his liberation on June 19, 1865, now commemorated as Juneteenth.
“For the first time,” Mills writes on his website, “American slavery wasn’t something that had happened to anonymous people in a history book. It had happened to my family.”
The discovery gave Mills a familial pride he had been missing for years. That pride fueled his desire to help others find their own history. In 2023, Mills received his certificate in genealogical research from Boston University. He has used his expertise to help descendants of enslaved people uncover histories they never dreamed of learning.
To do this, he uses a process called “reverse genealogy,” identifying a person from the past and working forward to discover their descendants. Along the way, Mills has found some remarkable people who fought for freedom on American soil, some of whom were never freed.
Pay Bill for Robin Starr’s service in the Continental Army.Courtesy the Alex Breanne Corporation
At the Cornwall Historical Society event, Mills will present the stories of four Connecticut families: Job Lathrop of Norwich, the son of Pirmus Armes, about whom Mills has published a book; Prince Mortimer of Middletown, also the subject of a book by Mills;, the three sons of London Wallace of Simsbury; and Robert “Robin” Starr of Danbury, who later lived in Cornwall and Sharon.
A few years ago, Cornwall Consolidated School social studies teacher Will Vincent reached out to Mills for research guidance on a local history project his students were undertaking. Together, they learned about Naomi Freeman of Cornwall. After purchasing an acre of land on Great Hollow Road in 1828, Naomi Freeman became the first Black female landowner in Cornwall.
The students petitioned the town to rename a road after the historic Cornwall resident In April 2025, Great Hollow Road was officially renamed Naomi Freeman Historic Road. U.S. Rep. Jahana Hayes joined Mills and the Cornwall Consildated School students for a presentation of their research.
Since then, Mills has guided the students in their quest to learn more about Starr’s story. Starr was a Revolutionary War soldier who joined the Continental Army to earn enough money to buy his own freedom, receiving the Badge of Merit in the process. The stories of his descendents’ services are equally worthy of their own books.
In recognition of Mills and the students’ work, First Selectman Gordon Ridgway proclaimed Feb. 8 as Robin Starr Day.
Preregistration is required for the event at the Cornwall Historical Society. To learn more about Mills’ work, visit
alexbreanne.org.
John Mills speaking at Quinnipiac University.Courtesy the Alex Breanne Corporation
Stephanie Saetta runs Charlie Chicken Bones, a sanctuary in Salisbury.
Dogs have been at the center of Saetta’s life since childhood. She remembers going to the library to research different breeds and trying to convince her parents the family needed a dog. She had her heart set on an Irish Wolfhound, but she was more than happy when her mom brought home a West Highland terrier.
After college, she adopted Charlie as a puppy from a rescue on Long Island. He was a hound-shepherd-Rottweiler mix who suffered from intense seizures. Some veterinarians recommended euthanasia, but Saetta wasn’t ready to give up on him.
When Charlie would have an episode, she would sit with him, nose to nose, talking him through it. She learned to look for the moment he began to come around — when he could smell her again and his tail started to wag.
“You only get one or two of these soul connection dogs, so I do this in his honor,” Saetta said. “I like to think that all the dogs that come through are going to have that person that they connect with just the same.”
Through a network of women working to rescue animals in Texas, she learned about the desperate situations facing many dogs.
With limited space, some public pounds euthanize even healthy animals to make room. Limited access to veterinary care leaves sick dogs or unvaccinated puppies especially vulnerable.
Saetta saw that reality firsthand with a puppy named Gus, a Labrador mix she fostered who has since been adopted. Gus and his sisters had been dumped beside a road, where they were living under an abandoned car. People would leave food for them, but no one would take them to the pound.
“Even the people who rescue animals down there were like, ‘sadly, the best place for them to be is on the side of the road,’” she said. “That’s safer. Someone might actually help them that way.”
Saetta knows that there are far more dogs than any one person can save, but she also knows that helping one dog means one fewer on the street.
Stephanie Saetta,with her rescue dog George and Blue (left), a shepherd mix awaiting his forever home.Madi Long
Charlie Chicken Bone Sanctuary operates entirely through foster homes, a model that Saetta believes is best for the dogs and the humans hoping to adopt them.
Rather than moving directly from a difficult environment into a permanent home, the dogs have a chance to settle into a quieter setting. They can learn what it’s like to live with a family, sleep somewhere comfortable and receive affection without fighting for attention. Fostering also allows the rescue to really get to know each dog.
“As fosters, we’re honest,” said Saetta. We’ll tell you everything that’s been bad, everything that’s been good. What their temperament is and how they’ve responded to all the things they’ve experienced.”
A successful adoption is not just about finding a dog a home; it’s about finding the right home where the dog and family can thrive together.
Saetta is looking for more people willing to open their homes to foster dogs. She understands that the thought of growing attached and eventually saying goodbye can feel daunting. But she sees that goodbye a little differently.
Fostering means being part of a dog’s journey, even if only for a short time. It gives dogs a safe place to rest, the chance to trust again and the love they have gone without for much of their lives. And when the time comes for them to leave, it is not really a loss. It is the reward of knowing they are moving on to a forever home.
Blue, Saetta’s current foster, is hoping to find his perfect home.
Blue, a 7 year-old Shepard mix, is waiting for his forever home. Madi Long
Now around 7 years old, Blue spent most of his life wandering the streets of Texas. People sometimes left food out for him, but his mangy, dirty coat kept them from stopping to pet him. Today, he has a chance to experience something different.
Blue is still waiting for his forever home. Saetta believes he would do best as the only dog in a household or alongside another senior dog. He will need someone willing to continue working with him on his training and understand that a dog with his history needs patience.
But what he gives in return is a whole lot of love.
“He’s so enthusiastic, he’s so excited for life, he’s so friendly, and he’s got such a good heart, and he loves to cuddle,” Saetta said. “He’s a good, good, good dog.”
For more information on adopting Blue or how to foster, visit ccbsanctuary.org.
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