Vaccine Nation (20 page)

R
OLAND
W
ATERS MET
D
ANI AT
the entrance to the Russell Senate Office Building and brought her to one of the caucus rooms, where Senator McKean’s hearing was being assembled. Microphones sat at tables with chairs behind them. A row of tables, including microphones, was set up facing them on a dais one level above, where the members of the committee would sit. The room had an air of governmental authority that the decorators must have wanted to convey: oil paintings of luminaries she didn’t recognize on the walls, drapes over the windows on the one side facing the outside world, and American flags prominently displayed in each corner.

“You okay?” Roland said.

“Yes.” She was itching to testify, but didn’t want to deal with the preliminaries beforehand. “Is there someplace I can sit and prepare before we start?”

“Of course,” Roland said. He brought her into an office the size of Dani’s bathroom. A few minutes later, Roland stepped in. “We’re ready for you.” Dani was led into the caucus room, struggling to collect her thoughts. Roland seated her at one of the tables facing the committee members at the dais, then left. She saw Grover Madsen seated at the other table, a man at his side, presumably his lawyer.

They swore her in. She’d been calm until then. Now she heard a sound like rushing air in her ears. She breathed, thought of Gabe, of Mom, home. It settled her. Then of Richard. It helped remind her why she was here.

“Ms. North, we understand you have information that this committee, and the American people, will be interested in hearing,” Senator McKean said.

Dani spoke directly into the microphone, “Yes, Senator, that’s true. But I think before I get to that I should tell the story of my last few days. Maybe it will put my testimony in better perspective.” Dani looked for Roland, as if for support, but couldn’t see him. She was out here on her own, in front of national attention.
Okay, girl, now do it.

“It’s the reason I’m here. Last Thursday night I won best documentary at the Tribeca film Festival in New York for my film,
The Drugging of Our Children,
which was critical of the pharmaceutical industry, including its policies on vaccines. On Friday morning, I was scheduled to meet with a man named David Maguire, a vaccine researcher for Pharma International, who agreed to speak with me about the documentary I’m currently producing, on autism.” Dani then described her last three days, beginning with Maguire’s murder and ending with her session with Roland Waters last evening. She paused, waiting for a reaction. She was a little breathless, not realizing she would speak for so long without coming up for air.

“Ms. North, those are serious accusations,” McKean said.

“I’m aware of that, Senator. I can document all of this, and further testify as to its accuracy. And I’ve got scars and bruises to prove it.”

“I can assure you that this committee will make certain your testimony finds its way to the appropriate authorities to
investigate the connection between the murders you’ve described and the attempts on your life. We’ll also make certain you are fully protected until the matter is resolved. But that isn’t within the purview of this committee. The information you mentioned that documents a linkage between our national vaccine program and autism certainly is. Would you please clarify?”

Dani knew this was how it worked. McKean knew exactly what her testimony would be. Her discussions with Roland the night before had set it up. She plunged in. “The USB flash memory drive that Dr. Maguire handed to me before he was murdered has files that appear to be from a study started ten years ago by the pharmaceutical industry, called Project Epsilon.” Madsen, she noted, was looking straight ahead, with no reaction. Dani introduced Project Epsilon and led the senators through her first slide summarizing it, then when the second slide was projected, described the statistics for Salisbury’s five-year data, finally describing the statistics for Maguire’s ten-year data: the .83 correlation coefficient, “An undeniable indicator that Autism Spectrum Disorder symptoms were correlated with the vaccinated group of children. Stated another way, the vaccine group children were 5.3 times more likely to develop ASD symptoms than the unvaccinated group.”

Dani now heard a buzz of discussion. People she assumed to be news reporters rushed from the room. Senator McKean pounded his gavel. He waited. The gallery quieted down.

“Have these data been analyzed by anyone other than your researcher?” McKean asked.

“Yes, an independent statistician hired by a member of your staff has confirmed the results.”

McKean turned to Madsen. “Mr. Madsen, do you know anything about this study?”

“I can confirm that Project Epsilon was undertaken by the industry along the parameters Ms. North outlined. The study was terminated five years ago because the results were inconclusive and we felt it was unethical to maintain a control group of unvaccinated children, given the critical benefits of the vaccines they would otherwise receive.”

“And you’re saying that Pharma International didn’t continue this study beyond the first five years?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

McKean and Madsen parried for about ten minutes over whether or not it was possible that Maguire could have continued the study and buried his ongoing efforts in Pharma’s R&D budget.

In the end, Madsen conceded, “Unlikely, but possible.”

The room was buzzing again. McKean raised his gavel, but the noise subsided before he needed to use it. McKean said, “Mr. Madsen, I presume your company would still have its original files from the first five years of Project Epsilon, including the information for the other nineteen companies in the study, correct?”

“I’m certain we do.”

“Then this committee is formally requesting that you produce those files so we can evaluate them and substantiate the testimony Ms. North just gave about the data. If you don’t, our counsel will present you with a subpoena. Let’s turn now to the core issue of these hearings. Whether or not the pharmaceutical industry should continue to have congressional immunity from lawsuits regarding the National Immunization Program.”

“I’ll start,” senator Wegman from California interjected. “Mr. Madsen, can you please tell the committee what your understanding is of Congress’ rationale in creating the Vaccine
Court as part of the National Childhood Vaccine Injury Act of 1986?”

Dani knew Wegman was a big supporter of the pharmaceutical companies. If Madsen was Darth Vader, Wegman was Emperor of the Evil Empire.

Madsen leaned forward, looking eager. “Congress established a carefully conceived federal mechanism to balance the need for compensating vaccine-injured children with liability protection for vaccine manufacturers.”

“Would manufacturers have left the market without such a mechanism?” Wegman asked.

“Yes. Tort liability cases against the vaccine manufacturers were mushrooming at the time. Product liability insurance coverage was becoming difficult to get. Manufacturers were talking about abandoning the market.”

“Would that have disrupted the CDC’s immunization program?” Wegman asked.

“In my view, it would’ve completely destroyed it.”

Dani saw Wegman lean back in his seat, a smug look on his face. She was sure Madsen and he had scripted that in advance. She gritted her teeth, angry.

Senator Stevens from North Dakota asked, “Mr. Madsen, can you summarize how the Vaccine Court works?”

“Of course. It’s a no-fault mechanism, like those used in many states for automobile insurance. Claimants go before panels of government-appointed Special Masters—in effect, judges—and need only establish that they were damaged by vaccines, based on a table of compensable side effects, to have their cases resolved. The Vaccine Act established a timeline of 420 days to resolve claims. Clean, efficient. The compensation fund is financed entirely by an excise tax on vaccines.”

Dani didn’t know where Stevens stood. She wondered where he was going with this.

He asked, “What if the injury doesn’t manifest itself within the timeframe for its onset required by the table?”

“Then they can’t file a claim.”

“And what if the claim isn’t filed within the filing deadline?”

“Obviously, then they can’t seek compensation from the Vaccine Court.”

“Can they then sue the manufacturer?”

“Not if they missed the Vaccine Court filing deadline.”

“Kind of like jumping through hoops, don’t you think?” Stevens said. “What if the injury is from a side effect not on the table for that specific vaccine?”

“Then they have to prove the vaccine caused the injury.”

“Does that sound like no-fault to you?” When Madsen didn’t answer right away, Stevens said, “How much is in the fund?”

“About three billion dollars.”

“Kind of a big pot of unspent money, don’t you think? How many claims have been paid since they started all this, and how long on average for them to get paid?”

Madsen was his sound bite self, calm. “I’m not sure of that.”

Stevens said, “2,569 claims paid, after two years on average. I don’t call that clean and efficient. Or fair. From what I’m told, far too many cases go uncompensated, which is why so few have been paid and there’s so much money in the fund.”

Madsen smiled evenly, but he was frozen in place as if posing for a photograph. Dani looked up at the dais. She saw a few other senators nodding, agreeing with Stevens. She felt a rush of energy.
Will they gang up on Madsen?

Senator Wegman interjected, “I understand there are only two to four manufacturers for many vaccines in the CDC’s schedule. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Madsen said. “For almost a dozen vaccines that’s the case.”

Wegman asked, “If Congress decided today to remove the pharmaceutical industry’s immunity, would it reduce the number of manufacturers of some of those vaccines?”

“Absolutely. The situation is more extreme today than it was in 1986. Less manufacturers.”

“What would be the consequences of Congress removing the industry’s immunity?” Wegman said.

“Children would go unvaccinated because there would be no supply of many vaccines. The CDC’s immunization program would fail. Diseases we’ve conquered would resurface.”

Senator Dobson from Michigan cleared his throat and said, “Let’s cover some new ground. As I think we all know, the Vaccine Court established a compensation scheme that the claimant can either accept or reject. Accept payment and go home. Reject it and sue the vaccine manufacturer in civil court. Correct?”

“Correct,” Madsen said.

“But the Vaccine Act said if you sue, the vaccine makers are immune from liability if the injury was from side effects that were ‘unavoidable’ even though their vaccines were manufactured and labeled properly. A manufacturing defect, a labeling defect and a design defect are the three reasons in U.S. case law that a claimant can sue under product liability. In early 2011, the Supreme Court ruled on a case that said ‘unavoidable’ didn’t include design defects, effectively removing a vaccine claimant’s ability to sue in civil court under product liability because it removes the primary legal basis on which to sue.”

Dani felt a flutter of anticipation. She thought she knew where Dobson was going. She glanced over at Madsen, who still sat looking unperturbed.

Dobson continued. “So that means that even though parents are required to vaccinate their children in order for them to attend school, college, or in many cases to get a job, the manufacturers of those vaccines can’t be held responsible if they injure children, even if their vaccines have design defects. Does that make sense to you?”

Madsen leaned over and conferred with his lawyer.

“Yes,” Madsen said.

Dani heard a few snickers from behind her.
He needed to ask his lawyer before saying that?

“How?” Dobson said. “I’m from Michigan. The automobile companies and many of their parts suppliers are my constituents. The same session of the Supreme Court decided that seatbelt manufacturers were responsible for design defects in their products. Do you think that makes sense, that seatbelt manufacturers are responsible for design defects and you people aren’t?”

Madsen leaned toward his lawyer again, placed his hand over his microphone. They talked.

McKean said, “Mr. Madsen?”

Madsen said, “Vaccines are government-mandated, as you said. We manufacturers only supply the vaccines. Since we didn’t mandate their use, it’s only appropriate that we be absolved from liability for them.”

Dobson said, “Seatbelts are mandatory. The government says so. Not the carmakers. Not the parts suppliers who manufacture them. So how come my people have a carrot
and
a stick, and you people only have a carrot?”

Madsen didn’t answer. Dani felt rising excitement. Wegman sat stonefaced. Madsen clenched his hands together, talked to his lawyer. She heard another buzz of voices in the room.

“For the record we should reflect that Mr. Madsen had no answer,” Dobson said. “Mr. Madsen, you mentioned earlier that some vaccines have only two to four manufacturers. Did I hear you correctly?”

“Yes.”

Dobson said, “I presume you are aware that our antitrust laws are designed to minimize monopolies and oligopolies in order to foster competitive markets. You vaccine manufacturers make a lot of money on the vaccines from these governmentmandated programs, don’t you?”

Madsen showed the first crack in his polished persona: he shifted in his seat and raised a hand to smooth his hair. Dani was starting to really enjoy this.
Go, Dobson.

“Yes,” Madsen said.

“How much?”

“As an industry, billions each year.”

“Where I come from, that’s a lot of money. Particularly given the recent troubles of our automakers. So let me ask you, if you people are making a lot of money on these products, what incentive do you have to compete aggressively with each other on price?”

Madsen shifted in his seat again. “Our markets are as competitive as any in the United States. No single manufacturer is granted an exclusive supply contract on any one type of vaccine.”