The successful transplant was a big step in the career of Murray, who had been recruited to what is now BWH by the heads of the departments of Surgery and Medicine after World War II to investigate organ transplantation as a cure for kidney failure, which was then a fatal disease.
Inspired by the success of this first-ever transplant, Murray conducted 12 organ transplants between identical twins between 1955 and 1959 while also looking for ways to extend this lifesaving procedure to others.
“We also began to transplant kidneys between people who were not genetically identical, using various techniques to fight tissue rejection,” Murray recalled. “Although we had several successes, for eight years most of our efforts ended in failure.”
“People who were destined to die young, died young anyway, despite our best efforts,” he wrote. “While our colleagues sometimes judged us harshly, our patients and their families did not. They understood that our treatment might well fail but that they had no other hope.”
The field of organ transplantation reached the modern age in the mid-1960s, with the identification of immune suppressing drugs that allowed for transplantation between genetically mismatched individuals without rejection.
Murray was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in 1990 along with E. Donnell Thomas in recognition of their pioneering work in organ transplantation and immunology. It was the pinnacle of a career that included numerous awards and recognitions. He died in 2012.
Richard lived for eight years after the transplant before dying of heart failure and arteriosclerosis that was caused by his pre-transplant kidney disease. Ronald, who lived a normal, healthy life, died in 2010.
In 2004, Murray, then 85, and Ronald Herrick, then 73, were invited to light the torch at the National Kidney Foundation’s Transplant Games. For Murray, the moment was an opportunity to reflect.
“I thought back to the day when it all began,” he wrote. “Ronald and I were still here, but Richard and the rest of our team were gone. So too were many of the recipients—including all those who died young despite our best efforts.
“They had all understood, perhaps better than we, that life is precious and fragile, and often must be fought for. They went to their graves believing that if they were not going to make it, they might at least help us learn how to save someone else. Their fight, their courage, gave the gift of life to millions.”