Fred Ramsdell was out of cell service on a hike when news arrived that he'd received the most prestigious award in his field. For the scientist with humble academic beginnings, it was a 'full-circle moment.'
In the weeks since Fred Ramsdell learned he won a Nobel Prize for his work in immunology, the part-time Whitefish resident's fall deer-hunting plans have been dashed. Instead, Ramsdell's been busy coordinating meetings with his team and preparing to travel to Sweden to accept the award.
"This is really messing up my hunting season," Ramsdell said, ruminating about the fresh venison he still needs to cache away for winter. "I'm still going to try and find a day or two, but ... I got one in the freezer, it'll be okay."
Ramsdell's wife of 38 years, Laura O'Neill, was the first to register the life-changing announcement when a torrent of text messages pinged her phone on Oct. 6. The couple and their two dogs had just gotten back into cell service after hiking in a remote area near Yellowstone National Park. With his phone still on airplane mode, Ramsdell didn't believe his wife when she revealed he'd won the most prestigious award in his field.
"I did not!" Ramsdell recalls responding to her.
His incredulity faded when Ramsdell turned on his phone and saw a missed called from Sweden, where the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences awards most Nobel Prizes. He, along with two other scientists, Mary Brunkow and Shimon Sakaguchi, had received the lifetime achievement award for their work in peripheral immune tolerance -- the system that explains how the immune system blocks cells from attacking the body's own tissues.
Ramsdell and O'Neill made their way to the nearest hotel in Livingston, checking in early so that Ramsdell could begin responding to the flood of phone calls and emails. O'Neill brought up a bottle of prosecco from the hotel, sharing a quick moment of celebration between calls. Later, they ate dinner at an Irish pub in downtown Livingston, watching Monday night football.
"That was the craziest day of my life," Ramsdell said.
On the drive to their winter home in Whitefish, Ramsdell periodically pulled over to have phone conversations and give interviews from inside their Toyota 4Runner, dogs in tow.
Born in Illinois, Ramsdell moved to northern California with his family when he was 8 years old. It was the 1960s, and Ramsdell grew up riding his bike on a still-unpaved section of Interstate 280, which had only recently been added to the Interstate Highway System. The region outside of San Francisco had yet to earn its reputation as Silicon Valley.
Half-joking that he was not quite "smart enough" to secure a scholarship to a more expensive four-year university, Ramsdell began his collegiate career at Foothill College in Los Altos Hills, Calif., working and saving money. He finished his undergrad at University of California San Diego, where he happened to take an immunology class and fell in love with the subject.
"The light bulb just went on," Ramsdell said. "It was the coolest thing ever. I used to joke that the immune system was responsible for every disease known to man except Huntington's."
After he confirmed his acceptance into graduate school at University of California Los Angeles (UCLA), Ramsdell recalls looking at his grades and adding up what it would take to earn summa cum laude honors. If he got all A's in his final semester of undergrad, he would be awarded the highest academic distinction for a graduating student. Or, he could skate through his last semester while soaking up the California sun, working just hard enough to pass his classes while spending much of the spring semester windsurfing with his roommate.
So, he windsurfed.
"I actually thought, this is one of my most brilliant things -- put aside the Nobel Prize for a second," Ramsdell said. "One of the most brilliant things was, am I going to care that I was summa cum laude in 10 years? I'm not. Screw that. I'm going to go windsurf."
Ramsdell went on to UCLA where he earned his doctorate in microbiology and immunology. After, he got accepted into a post-doctorate program at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), where for four years he worked alongside and learned from some of the nation's best immunologists.
He moved to Seattle to work for a biotech company, realizing that the career path allowed him to collaborate on projects with professionals from a variety of disciplines. Living in Seattle also afforded him and his wife access to the mountains and outdoor activities that they loved.
In the late 1990s, Ramsdell found his way into a startup that wanted to explore the potential for using human genetics to treat diseases. With each scientist backed by a research team, he and Mary Brunkow, a doctor in molecular biology, began collaborating on a project studying a mouse with rampant autoimmune disease.
"We knew this has to be centrally important to how the immune system works, which is what I care about," Ramsdell said. "So, we decided we would figure out what gene was responsible for that."
Brunkow's team took on the task of locating the responsible gene, while Ramsdell and his cohort determined how the gene worked.
"The way it worked was by controlling a very small population of cells that we all have, that control response to our own tissues," Ramsdell said.
This is the immune system's backup, a set of cells called regulatory T cells that can stop mistaken attacks against the body. The gene, FOXP3, is responsible for the production of this small population of cells.
"These particular cells basically prevent that from happening," Ramsdell said.
For those with autoimmune diseases, the body is missing the set of instructions from FOXP3 and is unable to produce those T cells that ward off attacks on the body. With cancer, the body attracts regulatory T cells that block off attacks on the cells.
Ramsdell and Brunkow used Dr. Shimon Sakaguchi's research on the thymus, the organ that sorts out immune cells, to help describe what they found.
Their discovery marked a significant step forward in the medical world, unlocking the door for a potential new method to treat cancers and autoimmune diseases. The only problem was that it was the year 2000. At that time, the strategy of using cells to create a drug was not happening anywhere, nor was it really feasible with the available technology.
So, Ramsdell continued to work in the biotech world, leaving the field in 2016 to pursue consulting and immunotherapy work at the Parker Institute for Cancer Immunotherapy in San Francisco.
Finally in 2017, The Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences recognized Ramsdell for his role in the discovery relating to regulatory T cells. There was a party with the team, and he traveled to Stockholm to accept the prize. Surprised by the award to begin with, Ramsdell believed it would be the final note of recognition he and the team would ever receive for their research.
With the technology advancing and the applications of T-cell therapy evolving, Ramsdell and others in the field -- Jeffrey Bluestone, Alexander Rudensky, and Qizhi Tang -- cofounded Sonoma Biotherapeutics, based on the discovery of FOXP3 and regulatory T cells. Ramsdell has since stepped back in his role at Sonoma, serving now as a scientific advisor.
"What's really satisfying is now that we can use that for patients, we can see if it works as treatment," Ramsdell said. "We knew that it was theoretically feasible, but it wasn't technically feasible. Now it is technically feasible."
Earlier this year, the biotech company began trials using cell therapy to treat patients with arthritis. Beginning to see his research used in treating patients and receiving the Nobel Prize in the same year is "just incredibly rewarding."
"It's kind of full circle for me," Ramsdell said.
Looking for an escape from Seattle's grey winters, Ramsdell and O'Neill traveled around the western mountainous states in search of a community that fit their lifestyle. Arriving in Whitefish, they strapped on snowshoes and hiked in to a property west of the resort town on a clear blue winter day. They immediately fell in love with the place. Both skiers, they spend a majority of their winters at Whitefish Mountain Resort, ending their days at Hellroaring Saloon with such a frequency that the bartenders have greeted them with two beers on the bar top.
Reflecting on his journey from community college in California to a Nobel Prize, Ramsdell tipped his hat to a confluence of good decision-making, serendipity and curiosity.
"No one does science thinking you're going to get a Nobel Prize, at least no one I know," Ramsdell said. "You do it because, I think, first, you love the science. And secondly, because you want to do something that makes an impact."
One of Ramsdell's guiding principles has been to do things that are both interesting to him, and useful to the world somehow.
"I've got to at least see some utility in it at some point," he said of his work, both personally and professionally. "My hobbies have always been things that had short-term gains -- woodworking, whatever. Stuff where I could spend a day and see something happen. Because in my professional life, apparently it takes 25 years."