Facing unpleasant truths -- especially about well-meaning people -- is never easy. University of Houston history professor James H. Jones is the author of Bad Blood: The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, which documents a 40-year study in which more than 400 black men with syphilis were deliberately left untreated. In the foreword to Murphy's book, Jones stated that she shows how "good people err for the best of reasons."
"If David's life proved anything," wrote Jones, "it was that love, kindness and good intentions do not necessarily translate into sound decisions or produce the desired results."
Last fall, Mary Murphy began having nightmares. In the recurring dreams, she somehow disappointed her mother and could never reach a desired destination. She awoke with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Her psychiatrist told her the dreams were related to the book. "I made a promise," Murphy explained, "and I need to keep it."
Now 70, she is reshaping the manuscript and hopes to find another publisher. But she won't water down her thesis; she promised to tell David's story, no matter how sad.
In February 1984, she visited David the day he'd been removed from his bubble. He was conscious and calm, and seemed to realize he was dying. Wearing surgical gloves, she touched him for the first time outside the bubble, helping him to sit up and adjust his surgical mask. They held hands.
From his hospital bed, he asked that the miniblinds be raised; he wanted to see the view from his new room. But instead of the expected sunset, the window revealed only a brick wall. Murphy began to cry.
For once, their roles were reversed: David tried to comfort Murphy, reminding her of the wall in a children's book she used to read him. David had spent his whole life with barriers. This last one was hardly the worst.
According to the article his mother and Demaret wrote for People, Mary also held David's hand the night that he died. The story described Mary as David's "close friend."
"When she was leaving," Carol Ann recalled, "David said, 'Remember, I love you, Mary. Good-bye.' He had never said good-bye to Mary. It was always, 'I'll see you later.'
