Sun Sentinel Palm Beach Edition
FROZEN FOR ETERNITY
Using cryonics to cheat death remains unproven
Upon death, you can freeze your brain, your head or your entire body.
You can be transported by a special vehicle that starts the freezing process immediately.
And yes, your pet can join you in the frozen state, stored in a special container and brought back to life in the future when you can be cured of whatever killed you.
Fifty years after the birth of the unorthodox field of cryonics, the process remains unproven. Still, some people are willing to gamble a fortune on the hope of thawing out and emerging one day from an almost-permanent slumber.
On Saturday, the Cryonics Symposium International will bring the worldwide “cryo-family” together in Hollywood, where they will hear from pioneers and newcomers in the field and learn about advancements.
Most serious scientists and researchers on aging consider the unorthodox field of cryonics just science fiction or hogwash. There is no school for cryonics, and the preservation is not regulated. Carol Williams, executive director at National Funeral Directors and Morticians Association, said cryonics is not even mentioned in traditional training. “It’s just not discussed,” she said.
The symposium on Saturday takes place at the Church of Perpetual Life in Hollywood, where South Floridians gather regularly to bond around the idea of life extension in a frozen state.
“People are coming from all over the place,” said Rudi Hoffman, the symposium co-chair, who also is a certified financial planner and seller of cryonics life insurance. “We need everyone to collaborate and cooperate for this concept to grow.”
A growing community
Corpse-freezing hasn’t exactly gone mainstream, but it does have some traction. The field of cryonics, which started freeze-preserving people after death in the late 1970s in the United States, has matured, evolved and expanded to other countries.
People who have died are suspended in vessels filled with liquid nitrogen at below-freezing temperatures at a cost of as much as $200,000. The tanks occupy warehouses in Miami, in states such as Arizona, Michigan and Oregon, and in countries like Russia and China.
Hoffman, 62, a cryonics participant, estimates about 400 individuals are cryogenically preserved, and another 3,000 to 4,000 have signed up to be frozen upon death. Debbie Fleming of Palm Bay, and her 8-year-old dog, Sherry, are among them.
Fleming, 55, paid $28,000 to be preserved at the Cryonics Institute in Michigan, and another roughly $6,000 for Sherry. She hopes one day to join her father, John Bull, who was an early participant in the cryonics field and placed into a deep freeze after his death from colon cancer in 2013.
She said she wants to make sure her father won’t be lonely if he wakes up decades from now. And she wants to make sure she won’t be lonely, either. “Sherry is a special dog to me so it will be nice when I reanimate to have her with me,” Fleming said.
Fleming, now on the board of the Cryonics Institute in Michigan “to protect her family’s interests,” will attend Saturday’s symposium. “My biggest expectation is that it will get more people interested in cryonics,” she said.
She used to hide her participation in cryonics from friends “because they would think it’s weird,” the computer systems administrator said. “Over time, it has become more mainstream.”
The short history of cryonics
The most well-known and longest operating cryonics facility, Alcor in Scottsdale, Ariz., is where scientists in the industry conduct research and where early believers are preserved. One of the most famous occupants is baseball legend Ted Williams, whose head and body are stored separately. Williams has lots of company in the cylindrical stainless-steel tanks at Alcor, which house 170 “patients” and 90 pets (cats, dogs, one turtle and one chinchilla).
Like anything frozen, frostbite or damage is a real risk. Alcor’s website says it has improved its technology and discovered breakthroughs in organ banking that will reduce damage or injury from the freezing process. Meanwhile, cryonics research and technology development are happening worldwide.
Neal VanDeRee, co-director of the symposium, said the Chinese are the newest to the field and may be the most advanced. On Saturday, founders of a Chinese cryonics company will present a film that highlights the technology they are using. “We don’t know that much about what they are doing with cryonic suspension but we will learn a lot more this weekend,” he said.
Also on display on Saturday: the cryomobile. Not just any vehicle can swoop in quickly after legal death and begin the cryonics process during transportation.
Because time is crucial between legal death and brain death, Suspended Animation, a Boynton Beach company, operates the cryomobile. Zipping to the scene after a cryonics member dies, the ambulance-like vehicle staffed by a trained team immediately lowers the body temperature before the brain is permanently damaged, using organ preservation fluid to cool the body faster than ice possibly could.
The debate
Over its 50-year-history, the unorthodox field of cryonics has evolved, led by men who have fought off a variety of lawsuits and used unconventional — even questionable — methods of pushing ways to permanently extend human life.
Two of South Florida’s biggest players in the cryonics industry, William Faloon and Saul Kent, operated Life Extension Foundation. At one point, they were indicted on more than two dozen counts of conspiring, importing unapproved drugs, and disguising drugs as supplements. The U.S. Attorney’s office later dropped the charges.
Faloon later founded the Church of Perpetual Life in Hollywood, where Saturday’s symposium is taking place.
By now, the industry has answers for questions like how to pay for being permanently frozen after death.
Hoffman, who calls himself a leading salesman of insurance in the cryonics industry, has figured out how to structure life insurance policies to pick up the cost.
Yet, infighting among businesses in the field remains an obstacle to growth. Most recently, companies have been luring business from each other by reducing pricing (dropping from $200,000 to $28,000) and restructuring membership dues. (Along with payment, the companies charge a membership fee toward maintenance costs for those who are already frozen.)
“Each company thinks what it is doing is best, but at the symposium we are all coming together,” VanDeLee said. “All of us want the same thing, which is a chance at a second life.”
Dvir Derhy, the only owner of a South Florida cryonics facility, looks eagerly toward the symposium where he hopes to discover the most innovative ways to preserve the body without damage.
Derhy said his Miami facility, which is only 2 years old and called Osiris, opened for the cryonic enthusiasts who live on the East Coast and want their frozen bodies preserved without being shipped. Rather than renting, Derhy said he bought a warehouse to ensure preservation for as many decades as necessary.
After reducing his price to $28,000 from the initial $200,000, he has signed up 21 people. Eight are already frozen at the warehouse. Derhy said he hopes this gathering of cryonics enthusiasts will build relationships among industry members.
“There are so few of us in the country, I don’t know why we don’t try to help each other,” he said.