A New Partner for the Push to the Summit

Published: August 19, 2020 ~ 1

By Sharon King

In a different version of our story, Taylor may have celebrated her 22^nd birthday with us today.

Jim and I have wondered so many times in recent weeks: What would our daughter be doing if Batten disease had not cut her life short on an early fall day in 2018? She may be a recent college graduate figuring out a new job or starting graduate school while the world reacts to a pandemic. She may have someone special in her life. She may be living at home for a while or making her own home. We talk about how much she would love her nephew, Jack. We smile when we remember her bubbly, magnetic personality. Our youngest child was, after all, an extrovert in a family of mostly introverts.

Oh, how we wonder …

In the beginning, Taylor’s life held much hope and promise. That all changed, of course, when a flaw in her CLN1 gene surfaced shortly before her eighth birthday in 2006. Batten disease sentenced her to blindness, seizures, cognitive and motor impairment, and an early death.

Shortly after Taylor’s diagnosis, we set out to change the curve. We were told it would be close to impossible to develop a treatment for an ultra-rare disease. We chose to believe otherwise. Because we had to try — for Taylor.

We funded a handful of research projects for about five years. Then, we met a young researcher named Steven Gray with a big idea: gene therapy as an approach to replace the flawed gene causing CLN1 disease, Taylor’s form of Batten disease. Dr. Gray’s intellect was apparent, his passion infectious. We believed in him. And in 2013, we funded him.

Friends, family, neighbors … so many people shared their time and treasure to help us scale the mountain. Somehow, we climbed many mountains. We did it together: When one group of climbers finished their part, the next group said, “We’ve got this,” and kept climbing higher.

Dr. Gray’s research data was strong, and a few years later, it was time for a new partner to step in. In 2016, the work was licensed to Abeona Therapeutics. Abeona further developed the program, receiving an Investigational New Drug (IND) allowance from the FDA in May 2019. This allowance clears the way for a clinical trial, but the climb stalled. Taylor was already gone by then, but we were still pushing, clawing, fighting to keep our promise to her and help families like ours.

This week, Taysha Gene Therapies — where our friend Dr. Gray is now chief scientific advisor — announced the acquisition of the CLN1 disease program from Abeona Therapeutics. Taysha will move forward the IND and begin the long-awaited clinical trial in the near future.

It was incredible news to begin Taylor’s birthday week, and I have no doubt that my daughter is up there, pulling for us, pulling strings, making magic happen.

Taysha President, CEO and Founder R.A. Session II said “Taysha is built on a powerful foundation: a combination of proven science, accomplished colleagues and an unrivaled alliance with a gene therapy powerhouse. Alongside Steven Gray, Ph.D., Berge Minassian, M.D., and our additional brilliant partners at the UT Southwestern Gene Therapy Program, we are seamlessly building an integrated engine for new cures.”

I’m overjoyed that Steve Gray is once again part of reaching the summit for a CLN1 disease program that began with hope, a dream and people who cared enough to believe with us. While it wasn’t in time for Taylor, I’m certain the timing of this week’s announcement is her birthday wish from afar.

Thanks for your support over the years. We haven’t reached the summit, but Taysha will be a strong and able leader to help us get there. The final leg is a journey worth making for children who have no treatment options.

Children like Taylor.

One Year Later: Notice Served

Published: May 21, 2020 ~ 1

By Sharon King

There is so much love in this photograph. A family wrapped around its youngest member as she celebrates her achievement in completing a second 5k — and improving her time. You might be thinking this isn’t such a big deal, but Taylor was blind and beginning to suffer additional effects of CLN1 disease (Batten disease). She was a winner that day, as she was so many other days in her short life.

Taylor’s efforts inspired her older sister to begin running. When Batten disease stole Taylor’s ability to run, Laura took the baton and ran for her. Laura is still running for Taylor today, even though Taylor left us 20 months ago.

Imagine the photograph without Taylor. There is such a hole in the middle of our family, and we’ll never be able to fill it.

You haven’t heard much from Taylor’s Tale in the past year. We’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out life without Taylor. My daughter finished her race, but I’ll never say that Batten disease won. It’s still running, and Taylor’s family and so many others are now carrying the baton on her behalf. Batten disease only wins if we quit before we reach the finish line.

I searched “Tips for Winning a Race” and found the following suggestions from WikiHow:

Go slow at first, then pick up your pace during the end of the race.
Keep most of your energy until the last lap.
Winning a race is a lot about the training and preparation as well as how skilled you are but that’s not everything. Winning a race has to do with the confidence, competitiveness and mindset of the runner, swimmer, biker, etc.
Without the heart and the will to win one will never win any race.

A year ago today, I thought we were coming up on a significant mile-marker — not yet the finish line, but the glimpse of something worth cheering about. On May 21, 2019, Abeona Therapeutics made an announcement:

… cleared to begin a Phase 1/2 clinical trial evaluating its novel, one-time gene therapy ABO-202 for the treatment of CLN1 disease, following acceptance of its Investigational New Drug (IND) application by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.
Abeona Therapeutics

In other words, they were cleared to begin a clinical trial. Yet one year later, we are still waiting on the trial to begin. Word to the wise — just because you see the goal over the horizon, doesn’t mean you can slow down.

I’m looking at you, Abeona. I’m watching. And I’m not watching idly.

… pick up your pace during the end of the race…keep most of your energy until the last lap …

So, I’m asking myself, what is the mindset of top athletes? I believe it is the realization that whatever adversity they face, they still have the ability to be successful.

Confidence…

Taylor faced so much adversity — more than her fair share, for sure. Meanwhile, she never complained. She found her way.

We can find our way through this difficulty, too, because we have the heart and the will to win …

I’m a mother with high expectations (I’ve been in training for 14 years, and I’ve earned the right). From here on out, I intend to be fierce. Relentless. Take-no-prisoners tough.

For her.

For all of the children and families living with CLN1 disease, now and in the future.

Notice served.

Our Dream is Coming True

Published: May 26, 2019 ~ 0

By Laura King Edwards

I’m thrilled to share news of an incredible milestone achieved last week: FDA clearance of an investigational new drug (IND) application for a novel, one-time gene therapy to treat CLN1 disease (a form of Batten disease). This gives Abeona Therapeutics the green light to begin a Phase 1/2 clinical trial evaluating the treatment in patients. You can read the entire press release on Abeona’s website here.

Though we’re proud of everything we’ve done for children and others like Taylor, this is why we founded Taylor’s Tale more than a decade ago: to spearhead and enable the development of a viable treatment for CLN1 disease. So many called it an impossible mission, but we believed enough to try, even after it became clear Taylor wouldn’t survive long enough to benefit from such an achievement. The photo above was taken in the lab of Dr. Steven Gray, our partner and friend who developed the technology, on the day we celebrated the first birthday of mice treated with his innovative gene therapy approach. It was a happy day and a sign of more good things to come.

We’re grateful for Steve as well as Ale Rozenberg, who played an instrumental role in moving Steve’s work forward, and the entire team at Abeona Therapeutics for all they’ve done to guide it to the clinical stage. Thanks also to you, our donors, friends and volunteers, for your gifts of love, money and time. Our dream is coming true, but we couldn’t have done it alone.

Though this is a significant win, our work is far from complete, and I hope you’ll stay on the journey with us. To learn how you can continue supporting Taylor’s Tale, send us a note.

Waterlogged in Minnesota

Published: April 16, 2017 ~ 2

By Laura King Edwards

When I flew to Washington, D.C., for Rare Disease Day at the end of February, I was already signed up for Nevada’s Rally in the Valley of Fire half marathon on March 31. But on my way out of D.C., I stole a few minutes with my friend, Michelle Berg, in an airport Starbucks. And before I took the last sip of my chai tea, we’d hatched a plan for me to travel to Michelle’s hometown of Minneapolis for a 15K race (9.32 miles) just two weeks after my half marathon in Nevada. After a string of injuries, I’m careful about giving my body enough time to recover between races.

Sometimes, I break my own rules.

Michelle is more than just a friend; she’s vice president of patient advocacy at Abeona Therapeutics, a clinical-stage biopharmaceutical company focused on developing treatments for rare genetic diseases, like Batten disease. In 2016, Abeona added Dr. Steve Gray’s promising gene therapy work to its pipeline, validating our belief in the project at UNC. With a clinical trial on the horizon, our dream is coming true.

On Good Friday, I flew alone to Minneapolis to run the Hot Chocolate 15K with Michelle, marking state 17 in my quest for 50. I kicked off the trip with a talk at the University of Minnesota Center for Orphan Drug Research. I landed in Minneapolis just in time to catch a ride to campus and connect my laptop. It made for a crazy morning after a crazy week at home. But having the chance to share our story with a room of difference makers made it all worth it.

The weather didn’t cooperate on this trip. On race day, the radar looked like this:

I’d hoped for sunshine and a slight breeze, but it didn’t work out, and I’d come a long way. I tried to ignore the weather and went through my normal routine, writing my sister’s name on my arm and caking the soles of my blister-prone feet with Vaseline.

Michelle was recovering from an illness but braved the nasty morning to run the 5K. We huddled in her car in a parking lot half a mile from the start line until the last possible minute. We wished for a break in the clouds even as rain hammered the windshield, but the break never came. Thirty minutes before the start of the 5K, we wished each other luck, said goodbye and went our separate ways in the gloom.

At the start of the 15K, I splashed through rain puddles as warm, fat drops pelted my face and soaked through my clothes. I picked and stuck with a pace group – for the first half of the out-and-back course anyway – and hoped the puddles weren’t hiding ankle-breaking potholes.

I’ll be honest: at times, I wanted this one to end. I hear the Hot Chocolate 15K route along the Mississippi River is beautiful, but I couldn’t tell with all that rain. My clothes felt heavy on my body and muddy water soaked through my shoes and my legs felt like lead.

But it’s impossible to quit when you’re running for someone like Taylor. And it’s easy to find the energy to push through one more mile, and another, and another, when you know your sister wouldn’t stop running, if she could still walk. After the turnaround on the out-and-back course, I realized I couldn’t keep up with my pace group any longer. But somewhere on that waterlogged course along the river’s edge, I heard my own voice, imploring my body to keep pushing forward.

When I crossed the finish line, my heart felt full, and my legs felt light, and suddenly I couldn’t get enough of that race day feeling: that feeling that through my sister’s story and courage and love, we can achieve anything we imagine. And as I picked out Michelle in the crowd of spectators and felt the medal around my neck and walked off the soreness in my legs, I thought only about Taylor and the bright future she inspired but won’t live to see.

In the event at the university on Friday, I told the room of scientists and aspiring scientists that one day, they’d have to look deep inside themselves to fix a problem. They’d have to turn their backs on logic and numbers and facts in favor of faith and heart and imagination. And at the end of my 15K in rainy Minneapolis, I thought about how imagination – not logic – drives most of the good in this fight.

I’ve finished races in 17 states. At this rate, I’ll reach my goal in six years. I don’t know if I’ll keep up the pace, or if I even care. But I know this: my crazy, incredible personal journey to fight rare disease is just beginning.

Rare Disease Week on Capitol Hill

Published: March 5, 2017 ~ 0

By Laura King Edwards

I spent Rare Disease Week in Washington, getting to know other rare disease advocates while learning about legislative and regulatory issues and advocating for one in 10 Americans on Capitol Hill.

I had a great two days in our nation’s capital. But to really illustrate the meaning of those 48 hours, I have to start with the end of the story.

After landing at Reagan International Airport late Wednesday afternoon, Abeona Therapeutics Vice President of Patient Advocacy Michelle Berg waited for me at a bustling Starbucks.

Our meeting almost didn’t happen, but it was easily one of the most important on my trip to Washington. That’s because Abeona Therapeutics added an AAV-based CLN1 program to its clinical pipeline in September 2016. Those fancy acronyms simply mean Abeona took on the incredible work of my friend, Dr. Steve Gray, to make his novel gene therapy treatment available to patients with infantile Batten disease.

On Rare Disease Day four years ago, I introduced Steve Gray to a crowd of Taylor’s Tale supporters at a Charlotte hotel while my mom walked the halls on Capitol Hill. That morning, I told our friends Steve’s work would lead to a clinical trial for kids like Taylor in the not-too-distant future. In my heart I knew we were starting from square one, going to war against a monster disease on a shoestring budget.

But I hadn’t forgotten the 2011 night when Mom called me on the road driving home from a Batten disease workshop in Bethesda, Maryland. She couldn’t stop talking about meeting the junior investigator from the UNC lab just two hours from our home in Charlotte. I also hadn’t forgotten the 2012 day when Mom pulled together a group of funders for Steve’s work at a conference in London.

Even then, I knew deep down that we wouldn’t save my sister’s life. But I still wasn’t willing to accept an incurable disease without a fight. And I believed my own words at that Rare Disease Day breakfast, when I told a roomful of people we’d achieve our goal.

Abeona Therapeutics is committed to taking Steve’s revolutionary gene therapy treatment to patients who need it, but our work is far from over. At Taylor’s Tale, we understand that patient advocacy is more important than ever. And that’s where my time on the Hill – along with about 400 other advocates from all over the nation – was so crucial.

A couple of years ago, our friends at the Beyond Batten Disease Foundation produced a great video about the so-called Valley of Death that prevents many scientific discoveries from translating to meaningful treatments and cures for real people. Consider:

Each year, approximately $1 billion is invested into medical research in the United States.
That investment only produces about 20 to 25 FDA-approved medicines and therapies.

The truth is that most labs don’t have the resources to shepherd their work through the drug development pipeline – and regulatory roadblocks make the journey even more difficult. Just imagine: scientists like Steve Gray and others across the country develop potentially lifesaving treatments in their labs. They take meaningful treatments and cures to mice, sheep and pigs. They publish papers and earn recognition for themselves and their institutions. But often, their work doesn’t save a single human being. And people like Taylor continue to suffer and die.

That’s why, after an all-day legislative training session in Washington last week, I celebrated my birthday by advocating for the 30 million Americans with a rare disease in the halls of Congress. I attended meetings with Representative Joe Wilson, Senator Tim Scott and the office of Senator Lindsey Graham. I talked about the benefits of the OPEN ACT, bipartisan legislation that could double the number of rare disease treatments and should have been included in 2016’s landmark 21st Century Cures Act. And as I walked the halls and told our story, I couldn’t help but think that, in a time when our country is divided on so many levels, rare disease is one issue on which we should all be able to agree.

Taylor’s Tale is a story about love and hope. It’s a story about turning hope into reality. Sometimes I get dizzy thinking about all that has happened since my family and I shared our story publicly for the first time on a cold night 10 years ago. And it’s been hard watching my sister, who used to sing and dance, grow too sick to speak or walk.

But I can see the future, and it’s shining brightly.

If you have questions about Rare Disease Week, legislation relevant to rare disease patients or our work on their behalf, feel free to contact me.

Thanks to our friends at the EveryLife Foundation for Rare Diseases, which organizes Rare Disease Week on Capitol Hill and granted Taylor’s Tale a travel stipend that made it easier for me to attend and speak on behalf of millions of Americans in Washington.

Global Genes Summit Unites Rare Disease Voices

Published: September 28, 2016 ~ 0

By Judy Mayer

You might assume that a summit dedicated to rare disease would be a negative experience, perhaps even bordering on tragic. You would be wrong.

The Global Genes RARE Patient Advocacy Summit held in Huntington Beach, California, on September 24-25 illustrates the positive energy that defines the rare disease community. Some people showed up in wheelchairs, while others had masks across their mouths and noses. One teenage girl brought her service dog, and one woman brought her oxygen tank.

While rare diseases create a seemingly endless variety of challenges, the summit participants all share the determination to help others and to leave no stone unturned to improve the lives of rare disease patients. continue reading →