What’s in it for me? Discover the fascinating story of the Galvins, a family like no other.
Mimi and Don Galvin were barely out of their teens when they got married, having tied the knot just before Don went off to fight in the Pacific during World War Two.
But they were deeply in love and full of ambition.
Don dreamt of being an influential figure in the State Department, whispering into the ears of future presidents.
But things didn’t work out that way.
Don had a hard time transitioning out of the military and into political science.
Eventually, he joined the newly formed Air Force as a high-ranking officer.
This meant moving to Colorado, where the headquarters were being built.
At first, Mimi wasn’t thrilled, but she soon found it to be a beautiful, wide-open space to raise her kids.
Twelve kids, in fact.
They came in quick succession.
The first ten were boys, the last two, to Mimi’s delight, were girls.
This is the story of this unusual family and how they became a central piece of the ongoing research into schizophrenia and the biology of mental illness.
A note before we begin: Potentially disturbing scenes occur in blink four, where suicide and sexual assault are described.
In these blinks, you’ll learn why researchers have sought out families like the Galvins; why schizophrenia has long been the subject of debate; and how certain medications can have fatal side effects.
After moving into a new home on Hidden Valley Road, the first signs of illness appeared in two of the Galvin children.
In 1963, the Galvins were living in a modern, split-level house on Hidden Valley Road in the Woodmen Valley area, just outside Colorado Springs.
Their house was one of the first to be built on a four-mile stretch of dirt road in a neighborhood developed for families of the Air Force Academy.
The key message in this blink is: After moving into a new home on Hidden Valley Road, the first signs of illness appeared in two of the Galvin children.
Their new home was just enough room for Mimi, Don, and their 12 kids.
They were able to squeeze a massive table with six seats on each side and one on each end into the dining room, and the living room was big enough for the boys to indulge in their wrestling matches, which had become a household feature over the past ten years.
Often, these matches would get overheated and turn into real fights, especially between the two oldest boys, Donald and Jim.
By the time they moved to Hidden Valley Road, the two brothers had practically become mortal enemies.
But this tension was somewhat relieved by Donald heading off to Colorado State University the same year they moved into the new house.
But something else was going on with Donald and Jim.
While Donald was the all-star athlete and seemed intent on making his father proud, Jim had always been a rebel.
So, when Jim got expelled from school for sneaking into an Air Force jet and messing around in the cockpit, Mimi and Don brushed it off as regrettable teenage shenanigans.
They did a similar thing when Donald was 17 years old and violently broke ten dishes while standing in the kitchen.
Typical teenage drama, they thought.
But things got worse as Donald began his sophomore year at Colorado State.
Soon Mimi and Don wouldn’t be able to brush it aside so easily.
Between September 1964 and the fall of 1965, Donald visited the campus health center four times.
First, to treat a mysterious cat bite.
The second visit was due to his concerns that he might accidentally catch syphilis from his roommate.
The third time he arrived with a back sprain and was told to spend the night in the infirmary.
As he explained it, one of his brothers had jumped on him from behind while he was visiting his family.
On his fourth visit, Donald arrived with serious burns and clothing that had obviously been on fire.
It turned out that Donald had jumped into a bonfire.
In 1966, Donald received his first diagnosis of schizophrenia.
None of Donald’s visits to the health center were easily explained.
After the bonfire incident, Donald received his first psychiatric evaluation.
While the clinical psychologist found evidence of “emotional conflicts,” Donald was allowed to resume his classes.
But things didn’t improve.
Donald dove headfirst into a relationship with Marilee, a fellow classmate.
When the relationship fell apart, Donald began to spiral.
He spent hours on the phone, missed his rent payments, and moved into a vacant cellar near campus.
The key message here is: In 1966, Donald received his first diagnosis of schizophrenia.
A few months after the breakup, Donald once again found himself at the health center with another cat bite.
This led to a more thorough meeting with a psychiatrist.
Finally, Donald revealed the full extent of what had been going on with him.
The bonfire wasn’t the only self-destructive act.
According to the doctor’s notes, Donald had “put a cord around his neck, turned on the gas, and even gone to a funeral home to price caskets.
” But he wasn’t able to explain why he was doing these things.
Nor could he explain why he’d slowly killed a cat that had been living with him for a couple of days.
It seemed all of these events were frightening, confusing, and troubling to Donald.
This time, the doctor made a diagnosis of “possible schizophrenic reaction.
” For Mimi and Don, it seemed there was little they could do.
Since it was first used in 1908, the term “schizophrenia” has been surrounded by debate and confusion.
In the first edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) published in 1952, the definition extended to three pages.
It had a number of symptoms, including delusions, hallucinations, and hearing voices, but these symptoms could not be considered a definitive sign of the illness.
What’s more, there were a growing number of subsections to go along with “simple” schizophrenia that included paranoid, catatonic, hebephrenic, residual, chronic undifferentiated, and acute undifferentiated schizophrenia.
For at least one psychiatrist, the definition was a “wastebasket diagnostic classification,” while another called it a “disease of theories.
” When Donald was brought home, the illness was readily apparent.
He muttered about the CIA and Marilee before shouting, “Get down!
They’re shooting at us!
” But as we’ll learn in the next blink, there were reasons why Mimi and Don were hesitant to send Donald to a psychiatric institution.
Mental health institutions had a bad reputation in the 1960s.
At the time Donald became ill, one of the primary theories about schizophrenia was that it was caused by the schizophrenogenic mother.
But the definition of a schizophrenogenic mother was never fully made clear.
These maternal figures could have been overly affectionate or completely lacking affection – either way, they were seen to cause “severe warp and rejection” in someone’s childhood, which was thought to at least partly cause schizophrenia to manifest later in life.
Mimi and Don knew that this theory was so popular that it had the potential to bring scandal and shame to the family if they committed Donald to a psychiatric facility.
But they had other reasons to conceal Donald’s illness, too.
The key message in this blink is: Mental health institutions had a bad reputation in the 1960s.
One of the most revealing exposés on the conditions of American mental health institutions was a 1959 book called The Caretakers.
It revealed the day-to-day treatment of patients.
They were given shock treatments – some patients as many as two hundred times.
They were put in solitary confinement, restrained for days at a time, and given tranquilizers and drugs such as Thorazine, which was described by one doctor as a “chemical lobotomy.
” The facility where The Caretakers takes place was none other than the Colorado State Hospital in Pueblo.
It was only an hour’s drive from Hidden Valley Road.
Mimi and Don certainly wanted to save Donald from this fate.
So they tried to help and support their son as best they could.
And for a while, it seemed like things were better.
He continued his classes and his visits to the campus psychiatrist and even started dating a new girl, Jean.
Eventually, in 1967, they got married.
The second-oldest Galvin son, Jim, got married as well, in 1968, to Kathy.
They quickly had a son, Jimmy.
But to Kathy, it soon became apparent that all was not well with Jim.
He was turning violent and prone to strange behavior, like standing in front of the stove all night, turning the burners off and on.
Jim’s violent outbursts would often be self-inflicted, like banging his head against a wall, but they were soon directed toward Kathy.
When Kathy brought this up to Mimi and Don, she was dumbfounded.
It was like they simply didn’t want to hear such news.
What’s more, they failed to mention that Donald had already exhibited similar symptoms.
Violence escalated among the ill siblings, culminating in tragedy.
In 1970, both Donald and Jim’s relationships were in trouble.
Donald tried to make things better with his wife by agreeing to couples therapy, but the fights didn’t stop.
Then, one night, Donald followed Jean when she stormed out of the house.
He talked about wanting to kill her.
That was the last straw.
Jean told Donald she was going to leave and move to Oregon.
The next night, Donald attempted to dose both himself and Jean with two lethal cyanide tablets.
Luckily, Jean was able to get away and call the police.
Donald was booked for an alleged suicide and homicide attempt.
The authorities determined he should be committed to the hospital in Pueblo.
The key message here is: Violence escalated among the ill siblings, culminating in tragedy.
Donald only spent a short time at Pueblo before he was released with a prescription for Tofranil, an antidepressant, and Mellaril, an antipsychotic drug.
But Donald returning home wasn’t exactly good news for the youngest Galvin sisters, Margaret and Mary.
When Margret came home from school, it wasn’t unusual for her to find Donald behaving strangely.
This could include finding him in the process of moving all of the furniture outside or lying naked in the middle of the living room reciting verses from the Bible.
So when Margaret and Mary had a chance to stay overnight at their brother Jim’s home, they took it as a welcome opportunity to get away from Donald.
Sadly, this was not a safe refuge for the girls, either.
At night, Jim, often drunk, would molest Margaret.
Later, when Margaret stopped coming over, Jim turned his attention to Mary.
With confused feelings, it was years before the sisters confronted Mimi about what happened at Jim’s.
Meanwhile, in 1971, the third oldest Galvin son, John, got married to Nancy.
As time went on, some of the siblings made a concerted effort to distance themselves from the rest of the family.
This was certainly true in John’s case.
He would get updates, but for many years he would only show up at major holidays like Christmas.
In 1973, however, came an event that shook every member of the family.
The fourth oldest Galvin son, Brian, was found dead alongside his girlfriend, Noni.
The reports say the couple had recently broken up and had been fighting for a month.
A .
22 caliber rifle was lying next to the bodies.
The police determined Noni had been shot, and Brian’s wound was self-inflicted.
As more siblings became ill, one of the Galvins was thrown a lifeline.
All of the Galvins were crushed by the loss of Brian.
But Michael, the fifth son, was especially torn up about it.
He had recently traveled to California to visit Brian, a talented musician who’d started a new band called Bagshot Row.
When Brian died, Michael was on his way to see him but had stopped in Los Angeles.
Maybe if he’d been there, Michael thought, Brian would be OK.
Unbeknownst to anyone but Mimi and Don, Brian had been prescribed an antipsychotic called Navene not long before his death.
But after his death, it became apparent to everyone that the difficulties Donald and Jim were experiencing had affected Brian as well.
The key message here is: As more siblings became ill, one of the Galvins was thrown a lifeline.
The four youngest Galvin sons – Joe, Mark, Matt, and Peter – were known as the “hockey brothers.
” Three of them even played together on the same hockey team at school.
The youngest, Peter, was at home in June 1975 when his father Don suffered a stroke right before he was supposed to take Peter to hockey practice.
Don was in the hospital for six months and would never be the same.
Neither would Peter.
First, Peter began speaking gibberish to other students.
He couldn’t stop.
Peter was taken to the hospital and stabilized.
Mimi, hoping for the best as always, sent him to hockey camp anyway – but things only got worse there.
Peter turned violent and was wetting the bed.
He was admitted to another hospital, this time the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver, where his older brother Jim happened to be staying after experiencing what the doctor’s called “an acute schizophrenic state highlighted by severe paranoid ideation.
” When Joe came to visit Peter, he told Peter’s therapist that he was also experiencing symptoms similar to Peter’s.
Was Joe going to be next?
Up to this point, Mimi had rarely talked to anyone outside the family about what had been happening to her children.
But in December 1975, a family friend called, and Mimi unloaded her worries.
The friend was Nancy Gary, and she and her husband worked with the same organization as Don.
After Mimi explained what was going on, Nancy made an offer that Mimi couldn’t refuse.
She said, “Send me Margaret.
By 1982, six siblings from the Galvin family were diagnosed with schizophrenia.
Mary was ten years old, watching her 13-year-old sister being driven off to live with the Gary’s in Denver.
She felt alone and helpless.
All she could do was cry her heart out.
Why couldn’t she leave too?
Was something wrong with her?
Was she not good enough?
Every once in a while, Mary would get to visit Margaret in Denver.
One day, her brother Matt visited the Gary house as well.
He’d turned out to be a very talented potter and brought along a vase as a gift to the Garys.
But after he arrived, he stripped naked and smashed the vase on the floor.
This was the first sign anyone had seen to suggest that Matt would be the fifth Galvin, and the second hockey brother, to fall ill.
The key message here is: By 1982, six siblings from the Galvin family were diagnosed with schizophrenia.
In 1978, Matt joined Peter at the Pueblo hospital.
For a time, Donald was there as well.
It wouldn’t be all that uncommon for three Galvin brothers to be at Pueblo at the same time.
Still, at this time, the best Pueblo had to offer were drugs like Thorazine, Clozapine, or similar neuroleptic medications – drugs that had side effects like tremors, seizures, heart arrhythmia, weight gain, and restlessness, just to name a few.
At times, it could make a person wonder which was worse – the symptoms or the treatment?
Mary eventually did get away from Hidden Valley Road.
She was allowed to start the ninth grade at Hotchkiss, a private boarding school in Connecticut.
Since there was already a Mary Galvin at Hotchkiss, it gave her an opportunity to really start fresh.
She told the teacher to call her Lindsay.
The name stuck, and it would be her preferred name for the rest of her life.
In 1982, Joe became the sixth Galvin, and the third hockey brother, to fall ill.
It came after he was denied a promotion as a baggage handler for United Airlines in Chicago.
He wrote angry letters, venting his frustration, which resulted in him being fired.
Then, his fiancée broke up with him.
When Lindsay traveled from Hotchkiss to Chicago to visit Joe, he was in a drugged stupor.
It broke her heart to see him this way.
She’d never visited her other brothers at Pueblo before.
For the first time, she began to wonder if this was really the best help the medical field had to offer.
The Galvin family was a perfect subject for researchers.
By the end of the 1970s, researchers were starting to get a clearer picture of the biological nature of schizophrenia.
So much so, that the idea of the illness stemming from bad parenting became a lot harder to scientifically justify.
For instance, in 1979, Richard Wyatt, a neurophysicist with the National Institute of Mental Health, published a study that showed how people with schizophrenia had a larger amount of cerebrospinal fluid in the brain ventricles located in the amygdala and hippocampus regions.
Not only are these regions related to how aware we are of our surroundings, but the study showed that the larger the ventricles are, the less effective neuroleptic drugs were.
The key message here is: The Galvin family was a perfect subject for researchers.
One of the people who worked on that study was Lynn DeLisi, a psychiatrist who, since graduating from medical school in 1972, has made a career in researching and studying the biology of schizophrenia.
Long before she met the Galvins, DeLisi knew that studying a family like theirs would be one of the best ways to isolate and identify genetic markers.
In theory, you should be able to compare everyone’s DNA and spot the differences in the genes between those who are sick and those who aren’t.
This should make it possible for someone like DeLisi to identify the genetic marker related to schizophrenia.
The problem is, the chances of schizophrenia being related to just one genetic factor are practically nonexistent.
It’s likely a combination of factors, and it could very well be that there is both a biological disposition and an external factor that acts like a trigger.
For Donald, Brian, Joe, and Matt, each had a romantic relationship fall apart just prior to their psychological break.
For Peter, there was the stress of seeing his father have a stroke right in front of him.
Lynn DeLisi also suspected there to be a combination of factors resulting in the onset of schizophrenia, but she knew the key was likely biological.
So, in 1984, she began collecting genetic data from families with schizophrenia.
Through reaching out to various hospitals and organizations, she heard about the Galvins and decided she had to visit them herself.
Without a doubt, they were the perfect family for her research.
Thanks to DNA from the Galvin family, some progress has been made in understanding schizophrenia.
Mimi had been waiting a long time for someone like Lynn DeLisi to show up.
Since Donald’s illness, Mimi had been involved in the caretaking of each of her sick sons, so getting the necessary blood samples for DeLisi was relatively easy.
The only one who didn’t cooperate was Richard, who, like John, had distanced himself from the family.
Right away, in February of 1986, just months after visiting the Galvins, DeLisi’s data gathered from one thousand families confirmed Richard Wyatt’s research about enlarged ventricles.
She also shared the samples taken from the Galvins with the Coriell Institute for Medical Research so that others could have access to the DNA for research purposes.
The key message here is: Thanks to DNA from the Galvin family, some progress has been made in understanding schizophrenia.
DeLisi succeeded in accumulating helpful data, but a breakthrough proved elusive.
Meanwhile, at the National Institute for Mental Health (NIMH), Dr.
Daniel Weinberger published a 1987 paper that proved to be a game-changer.
The study suggested that schizophrenia was a gradual “developmental disorder.
” According to Weinberger, the genetic abnormalities that contribute to the illness are in place from day one, but only when the brain is fully mature do the symptoms become readily apparent.
Author Robert Kolker makes a bowling analogy to help understand this theory of how the onset of schizophrenia works.
For the first few feet after the bowling ball leaves your hand, it can look like it’s moving down the middle of the lane, even if it’s ever so gradually veering off to the side.
It’s only when the ball gets closer to the pins or, in this case, a fully mature brain, that you see how far off course it’s gotten.
While doctors at NIMH were also using the Galvins as research subjects, so too was Robert Freedman, a researcher at the University of Colorado Medical Center.
For a while, Freedman was working on sensory gating, which describes how people are able to process sensory input.
For example, when people hear two clicks in rapid succession, we tend to see a high level of brain wave response to the first click and a muted response to the second click.
But people with schizophrenia will have a similarly heightened response to both clicks.
So, in effect, people with schizophrenia experience all sensations like it’s the first time they're experiencing them.
If this sounds exhausting, that’s because it is.
And Freedman expected that this irregularity in the brain was also genetic.
For Lindsay, Dr.
Freedman’s theories around sensory gating made a lot of sense.
As researchers got closer to identifying relevant genes, they were no closer to improving the medication.
She’d noticed how even white background noise, like the whirring of a fan, could irritate her brothers.
In the 1990s, many of the Galvins agreed to sit with Dr.
Freedman as he ran tests.
These tests, and the tissue samples he collected, helped Freedman track down the biological home of sensory gating: it’s called the ɑ7 (or alpha-7) receptor.
The ɑ7 receptor is responsible for communication in the brain, sending messages from one neuron to another.
This communication also requires a compound called acetylcholine.
As Freedman discovered, people with schizophrenia have around half the amount of ɑ7 receptors that an average person has.
Remarkably, he tracked the problem down to a gene called CHRNA7, which is used to make the ɑ7 receptor, and an overall lack of acetylcholine, which also triggers the creation of the receptors.
The key message here is: As researchers got closer to identifying relevant genes, they were no closer to improving the medication.
This may sound like a breakthrough, but as Freedman also discovered, it can be difficult to put this information to use in the form of a medical solution.
In his research, Freedman discovered that nicotine has a direct effect in kicking the brain’s acetylcholine into overdrive.
In his double-click tests, he found that when subjects took nicotine, they were more focused and calm, and their responses to the second click were more muted.
But when the nicotine wore off, subjects were back to being hypersensitive.
Freedman found an existing drug, known as DMXBA, that was even better than nicotine at targeting acetylcholine and the ɑ7 receptors.
In tests conducted in 2004, it worked amazingly well.
Subjects felt more focused and calm, and some even stopped hearing voices.
The only problem was, the patent on this drug was running out.
What’s more, the drug needed to be taken three or four times throughout the day.
As the drug companies saw it, a lack of a patent was bad for business, and expecting patients to follow a schedule of repeated doses was impractical.
Frustratingly, Freedman hit a wall with this drug, despite the promising signs.
He shopped it around, but the companies all wanted one-a-day drugs.
Yet, it’s hard to ignore the risks of the current drugs on the market.
In 2001, Jim died at just 53 years old.
According to doctors, the cause was heart failure related to the neuroleptic drugs he was taking.
In 2009, Joseph passed away, also at age 53, and also due to heart failure related to the Clozapine he was prescribed.
In 2009, diligent research into genetic links finally began to pay off.
For years, it seemed like Lynn DeLisi had also hit a wall in her research.
In 2000, her work was cut short when Pfizer bought the company funding her project and abruptly canceled it.
But it was just a matter of time before someone else saw the value in her efforts.
The key message in this blink is: In 2009, diligent research into genetic links finally began to pay off.
McDonough worked for the biotech company Amgen, and in 2009, he reached out to DeLisi with the thought of picking up where she left off – to find a way to finally target a gene that could help people with schizophrenia.
So, once again, the Galvin family DNA was being studied.
And this time, thanks to new sequencing technology, DeLisi and McDonough found what they were looking for: the shared mutation.
Each Galvin brother had a mutation in the gene known as SHANK2.
This gene is responsible for encoding the proteins that get brain synapses to communicate and help neurons to respond quickly.
When DeLisi and McDonough’s study was published in 2016, it took into consideration that all three SHANK genes, SHANK1, SHANK2, and SHANK3, could be connected to a spectrum of mental illnesses, including bipolar disorder and autism.
Indeed, at various times, Peter’s diagnosis bounced between schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.
And the fact remained that none of the brothers experienced exactly the same symptoms.
Some experienced more voices and hallucinations than others, while others had more detached awareness of what was going on.
In fact, at the NIMH, there has been a call to redefine schizophrenia as not one single disease, but rather “a collection of neurodevelopmental disorders.
” Around the same time of DeLisi’s study came another from Dr.
Freedman.
He found that aside from acetylcholine, the nutrient choline could also be used to kick start the CHRNA7 gene into making ɑ7 receptors.
Choline is a nutrient anyone can buy at their local vitamin shop, and Freedman’s study has prompted efforts to get choline included in prenatal vitamins.
Already, in a study done alongside the Food and Drug Administration, children who received choline supplements in utero showed fewer signs of sensory gating issues, fewer attention problems, and less social withdrawal than the study’s control group.
It may be too early to call this the major breakthrough researchers have been looking for, but it is nonetheless a positive sign.
While some Galvins remain bitter about the past, others are more hopeful.
In 2016, DeLisi paid a return visit to the Galvin family.
Since her last visit, Lindsay has stepped up to become the central organizer and unlikely caretaker of the family, especially once Mimi became sick.
Don, who was never the same after his stroke, died in 2003.
Mimi lasted until 2017 and remained positive until the very end.
The key message here is: While some Galvins remain bitter about the past, others are more hopeful.
While Margaret grew more distant from the family, Lindsay felt compelled to take a more active role, especially with her brother Peter, going so far as to become his state-designated caretaker.
All the while, people have continued to use the samples taken from the Galvin family for their research efforts.
In September of 2016, Lindsay organized another round of blood drawings from her siblings.
She remains hopeful and excited about the ongoing research, but so far, there hasn’t been much change.
Hospitals still rely on powerful drugs with dangerous side effects.
The fact remains that testing new antipsychotic medications is an expensive and risky endeavor that not many companies are eager to get involved in.
But there is a final twist to this story.
In 2017, Lindsay’s daughter Kate walked into a laboratory being run by Dr.
Freedman.
The same Dr.
Freedman who’d known the Galvin family for some 20 years.
But Kate wasn’t there to have blood taken or to be the subject of some test.
She was there as an undergraduate intern, as part of her pre-med studies at the University of Colorado, Boulder.
It was unusual for an 18-year-old undergrad to get such a placement in Freedman’s lab, so another intern joked that her parents must be big donors.
To which Kate replied, “Well, are you talking money or tissue?
” Indeed, at that moment, Kate was surrounded by blood and tissue samples, some of which came from her family.
In fact, her grandfather’s brain was likely somewhere nearby, and Kate wondered if she’d get a chance to look at it one day.
Final summary
The key message in these blinks: As a family with 12 children, six of whom fell ill with symptoms of schizophrenia, the Galvin family was sought after by researchers.
The Galvins were in a unique position to provide doctors with clues to which genetic mutations may contribute to schizophrenia.
Ultimately, in the 2000s, their DNA brought the medical community closer to understanding mental illnesses like schizophrenia.
But for some family members, this has been cold comfort, as growing up in the chaotic household has proved hard to overcome.
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What to read next: No One Cares About Crazy People, by Ron Powers If you’re interested in learning more about how schizophrenia has been treated and how it can affect families, we recommend our blinks to the 2017 book No One Cares About Crazy People, by Ron Powers.
Like the Galvins, the Powers have also faced the challenge of having mental illness in the family.
You’ll discover the inspirational story of how two siblings in the Powers family have not only survived their diagnosis of schizophrenia but, in the case of Kevin Powers, have even thrived.
This story not only shows how far we’ve come in understanding mental illness, but you’ll also find new insight into how the illness can be more humanely treated.