The speech below was delivered by Effie Louise Banting (nee Reid, 1912-1978), wife of Edward Knight Banting (1915-1998), to the Alliston Historical Society in November of 1972.
Fred Banting’s grandfather, John Banting was an Irishman. He came to Canada from the south of Ireland in1842 and settled in Bond Head, Ontario. He ran a hotel there for a short time. Fred’s father, William Thompson Banting, married Margaret Grant of Scottish descent, in 1879. She was the first girl of anglo saxon descent to be born in the pioneer settlement of Alliston. Ontario.
Mr. & Mrs. William Thompson Banting, their three boys and one girl, moved from a Beeton area farm, in Tecumseth Township to a farm on Lot 2 Concession 2 of Essa Township, in March 1891. Frederick Grant Banting was born on that farm on November 14th of the same year, the youngest of five children.
A renowned diabetic doctor wrote the following in the foreword of the book “Banting’s Miracle.” In this book there are little touches of a local incident which plainly influenced Banting’s later life.
What were some of these local incidents which influenced his life?
First of all, Fred Banting’s home life was a happy one. He was particularly fortunate in having affectionate and understanding parents.
His Mother, with her rare combination of goodness, common sense and wit, early became his counselor and friend, to whom he came for advice and with whom he shared his disappointments and his triumphs. Until her death just a few months before his own, no matter where he was in the world Dr. Banting wrote a letter to his Mother once a week.
His father’s influence also was great. He was a splendid farmer who contributed much to the development of rural Canada. He was tolerant, broad-minded and wise, and instilled in all his children a respect for hard work. Religion had an important place in the Bantings’ life. Their day began with Bible reading and family prayers.
Fred loved the farm. Everything in connection with it aroused his eager interest.
Fred was not a remarkable scholar. He was persistent, thorough and conscientious’ but not at all outstanding. A friend, Dr. Ian Irquhart, who knew Dr. Banting well, once said in a speech: “My guess is that Fred was not particularly challenged by routine school work. His interest appeared to be stimulated when he became curious about how things worked. It is likely that at times in school he could be accused of day dreaming. He would be thinking about things that really interested him.”
Fred was regarded as a quiet, self contained boy. However, he was not without a sense of humour. Perhaps this, too, gives a hint as to the kind of man he would one day become. He is reported to have had a normal boy’s fondness of sports, particularly hockey and baseball, and played on the local teams. He also was fond of fishing, and loved walking to and from school along the Boyne River. He would walk though the fields, taking note, with a keen eye, of the growing things along the way.
Books were another absorbing interest. One of his happiest memories was of his father and mother reading aloud to each other at night. He would listen in rapt attention to their voices coming through a heating hole cut through the floor of the room above him.
Fred has said his interest in medicine was aroused when watching a doctor working on two injured Alliston carpenters. He also visited with a nearby neighbour girl, who later became diabetic and died. He was a bearer at her funeral.
When time came to go to the University of Toronto, perhaps because of their parents’ wishes, he and Fred Hipwell, his cousin, enrolled in theology at Victoria College. Later the two of them decided to go into medicine and entered the class of 1917. Because of the war they graduated in 1916 and immediately joined up with the rest of their year, becoming officers in the some corps, and going overseas in 1917.
During his war experiences, Banting went to France, serving in the Canadian Field Ambulance as medical officer. In Cambrai, while caring for wounded soldiers in September 1918, Fred, himself, was wounded with shrapnel in the arm. He was ordered to return to the field hospital, but once his wound was dressed, he continued to carry on at the front caring for the wounded for many hours Later he was evacuated to an English hospital. For his devotion to duty under fire, he was awarded the Military Cross.
It was many months, before his own wound was better. His arm had become so infected that the surgeon in charge advised amputation.The family relates the story that Dr. Banting pointing to the stripes on his own uniform, said to the surgeon, “ I have a higher rank than you and the arm is not to come off.” He took over the arm’s treatment himself and effected a slow cure.
In due course he returned to Canada to study Orthopedics under Dr. Clarence Starr, Surgeon In Chief at the Hospital for Sick Children.
Dr. Banting loved children in the wards and they loved him. He told them stories and jokes and gave them funny names. Above all with gentle skill and tireless patience, he tried to heal their poor little crippled arms and legs.
In Oct. 1920, Dr. Banting began, as he hoped a surgical Orthopedic practice in London, Ont. Of course one is not usually overburdened with patients in the first year of practice, so there was plenty of time for study and reading. He was given a position as part time instructor in the medical department of the University of Western Ontario.
One day he had to give a lecture on the pancreas. He had an early interest in the subject and in preparation for his teaching the class, he came across articles describing what research had already been done regarding diabetes. These articles stimulated the natural curiosity how things worked that Banting had exhibited as a boy. As a result he conceived the idea which eventually led to the discovery of insulin. Put very simply, he felt if the pancreas could be caused to degenerate, the internal secretion produced by the islands of the pancreas, could be extracted and used to control blood sugar in the diabetic. The secretion was later called insulin
However, having the idea is one thing, but getting an opportunity to test it out proved not all that easy. He was advised to see Professor J. J. R. McLeod of U. of T., a well known diabetic research worker. McLeod didn’t seem at all impressed and Banting went away discouraged. To make a long story short, MacLeod eventually agreed to give him space in his laboratory for eight weeks, while the professor was to be off in Scotland. Charles Best, a recent graduate in Physiology and Biochemistry was available for the summer and was assigned to help with the experiments. These began in May 1921, with 10 dogs being given to them for use in experiments.
All through the summer the team worked in blazing sun in the small laboratory, taking scant time off for their all too sketchy meals (Fred’s Hipwell cousins on one occasion brought him steaks and made sure he ate them). The disappointments, the suspense and the success of that summer’s work is a story in itself.
When MacLeod returned from his holiday abroad, it took some time and much evidence to convince him that the two young men, in one short summer had accomplished the seemingly impossible. He finally agreed to help in every way and enlisted a scientist named Collip to help purify insulin.
One of the difficulties which now presented itself was that of obtaining enough pancreases (the source of insulin). Banting’s early life on the farm was of assistance here. He remembered the large sweetbreads in the calves he had helped his father to kill. Now with access to all the abattoirs in the country, and with a new and improved formula for extraction, the problem of a continuous supply of insulin was solved.
The next step was to try insulin on a diabetic human being. Banting & Best had already administered insulin to themselves. On Jan. 11, 1922, insulin was first used on 14 year old Leonard Thompson. When admitted to Toronto General Hospital he was in the last stages of diabetes. Within a fairly short time, he was as healthy as any other boy, except that from then on he must always take insulin. For the first time in medical history, a diabetic human had been restored to health.
The 2nd floor of Toronto General Hospital was fitted up for this new treatment of diabetes. People came there in crowds from every part of the world. The story of amazing things that happened on that floor reads like a fairy tale.
Almost overnight Dr. Banting became very famous. Chief among the honours poured upon him, was the 1923 Nobel Prize in Medicine, in which the name of MacLeod was linked with his. Banting shared his $20,000 reward with Best and McLeod with Dr. Bertram Collip.
It is interesting to note that no financial benefits accrued to Banting or Best. They could have been millionaires but all proceeds went towards research. “He has no money sense,” said Sir William Mulock in referring to Banting. “ . . no money sense. You don’t have to pick his pockets; he would freely give you everything in them.”
In 1943 his majesty, George the 5th, himself a diabetic, recognized Banting’s services to medicine by conferring the knighthood upon him.
Being a modest man Fred was unaffected by all the acclaim. His manner, his person, his living quarters remained untouched and unaltered. He tried to hand away as much of the glory as he could.
On the outbreak of World War 11, he joined an active unit of the Royal Medical Corps, being promoted to the rank of Major. In Febuary, 1941, entrusted with a mission of high national and scientific importance, he set out for England by air. A few hours later, due to engine trouble, a forced landing was attempted in a remote region of Eastern Newfoundland. In the crash which followed, Dr. Frederick Banting received fatal injuries. A career full of accomplishment and promise had ended.
I began these remarks by trying to give a picture of the boy Banting. I would like to conclude by trying to give a brief picture of the man.
Fred became interested in painting and was privileged to travel and paint with A.Y. Jackson. In his book “Banting as an Artist” Jackson set our his impression of the man. “Banting liked people who worked. He was proud of being the son of a farmer and always was willing to discuss problems of the farm. He could make shrewd judgments of people and events. Wherever he went he was an ambassador of good will. He took great pride in Canada and our achievements. He held to the belief that no country can afford to neglect its creative minds. In short he was a great Canadian.”
It is fitting that among the many memorials made in his memory, a cairn and plaque was erected on September 14th 1975 on the farm where he was born.
It was fitting, too, that his wife Lady Banting was present to assist in the unveiling at this impressive event. Less that than a year later, July1976, she died, a truly great woman in her own right.
But the greatest memorial to Sir Frederick Banting is not one which has been built by man. It is the one which lies in the hearts of those whose lives have been saved by insulin.