San Onofre Case’s Star Witness Has Diverse Interests

He has a blue-ribbon resume and has worked as an equal with many of the bright lights of American science and medicine. But he also pals around with Clint Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone and Burt Reynolds.

He has a long list of professional honors and credentials and research papers in esteemed publications. But he has taken heavy fire from the science Establishment for peddling pills promoting eternal youth.

Dr. Harry B. Demopoulos--who has his own radio show, has appeared in two “Dirty Harry” movies and a Stallone movie, and says he is on the verge of finding a drug to slow the ravages of AIDS--is a man of many roles.

His latest: star witness for a former nuclear inspector who believes her cancer was caused by radiation poisoning at the San Onofre nuclear plant.

A federal jury in San Diego last week deadlocked 7 to 2 in favor of Rung C. Tang in her $15-million suit against Southern California Edison. Although short of a victory for Tang, the split was considered a moral triumph by the anti-nuclear movement, which has long insisted that nuclear plants are unsafe and carelessly operated.

A retrial in the case is set to start March 1, with a win or another deadlock in Tang’s favor expected to provoke other cancer suits from workers at the nation’s 109 nuclear plants.

Tang’s lawyers say a dozen San Onofre workers have contacted them about filing similar suits, a prospect that could keep Demopoulos in front of juries for years to come. “R.C. Tang is just the tip of the iceberg,” he said.

Although other scientists also testified on behalf of Tang, it was Demopoulos who provided the heart of her case, the first such suit in the history of the nuclear power industry.

For two days he lectured the jury on fine points of chemistry and biology and ended with the dramatic pronouncement that Tang contracted chronic myelogenous leukemia because the operators of the San Onofre plant were sloppy and negligent, assertions that Edison’s attorneys vigorously and angrily denied.

The gregarious Demopoulos insists that he is not a cancer alarmist nor is he anti-nuclear.

“I’m a firm believer in nuclear technology,” he said in a telephone interview from his laboratory in Elmsford, N.Y. “But you have to use the technology properly.”

He was not bothered by attacks on his credibility by Edison attorneys who sneered at his Hollywood connections and what they called junk science, rank speculation and alleged attempts to pass himself off as an expert in a field they said he knows little about.

He’s heard it all before, while testifying as a defense witness in cases in which plaintiffs have said that asbestos made them sick. Although he is neither an oncologist nor a radiologist, he offered rock-solid opinions on both specialties in the Tang case.

“If you know what you’re talking about, there’s no reason to come unflapped,” said Demopoulos, 62, whose formal training is primarily in pathology.

Tang’s attorneys, from the Los Angeles firm of Howarth & Smith, have called Demopoulos as an expert witness in numerous trials. In the world of expert witnesses, he is a superstar, they said.

“Unlike most doctors, Harry really likes people,” said one of the firm’s partners, Suzelle Smith. “He can talk to jurors without talking down to them. He blends professional credibility, experience and a keen understanding of people.”

Dallas attorney Lisa Blue, who has cross-examined and taken depositions from Demopoulos in various asbestos lawsuits, thinks it is all an act by a likable fellow who is light on medical specialties but heavy on acting skills.

“He’s a guy who knows a little bit about a lot of different things,” she said.

Blue’s firm, Baron & Budd, represents plaintiffs suing asbestos users, and Demopoulos often testifies that the link between an individual illness and asbestos cannot be established, the reverse of his role in the San Onofre case.

“He’s dynamite in front of juries,” Blue said. “He’s quite an actor and, after all, he’s learned from the best.”

Among his teachers was Eastwood, who directed Demopoulos in “Sudden Impact” and acted with him in “The Dead Pool.” The pair met when Eastwood became interested in his experiments with vitamins and amino acids to slow aging.

Through Eastwood, Demopoulos met Stallone and Reynolds and Muhammad Ali. He treated Reynolds for an ear infection and had a small role in Stallone’s “Cobra.” He is closest to Eastwood, considering him “like a brother.”

When Eastwood and Stallone shoot a movie, Demopoulos travels on location, sizing up the medical risks in their acting stunts and offering medical advice and friendship.

“If everybody did what Clint, Burt and Sly do (for their health), Bill and Hillary (Clinton) wouldn’t have a health problem in this country,” Demopoulos said.

Still, his Hollywood friends become an issue in nearly every trial in which Demopoulos is a witness, as opposing attorneys try to whittle down his credibility.

“How’s Clint Eastwood’s health?” an Edison attorney asked archly during the Tang trial.

“Clint Eastwood is healthy as a horse,” Demopoulos replied.

Another issue also dogs Demopoulos whenever he testifies: the pills that his company, Health Maintenance Programs Inc., sells through the mail. The Food and Drug Administration has ordered the company to stop making health claims that have not been verified by clinical trials.

Demopoulos was an early believer in the now widely accepted “free radical” theory, which holds that certain molecules that react adversely to oxygen can damage cells and cause illness. He says his “antioxidant” pills slow down that process and thus promote health and longevity, an assertion that many in the academic community say is unproven.

“The whole field of antioxidants is up in the air,” said Paul Saltman, a professor of biology at UC San Diego and a former colleague of Demopoulos at USC. “It is always possible (that the pills help), but there is no proof in the medical literature today.”

Demopoulos and his pills, however, are not without their defenders.

Dr. Jonas Salk, developer of the Salk vaccine against polio and founding director of the Salk Institute for Biological Studies in La Jolla, takes the pills and believes they are beneficial, although he adds that this is a subjective, not a scientific, judgment.

“Harry is a dedicated person who is trying to do some good in the world,” Salk said. “He’s a very passionate person, very human, very compelling and thoughtful. When you hear his laugh, you can feel his charm, his enthusiasm, his hope.”

As for criticism that Demopoulos strays into medical fields outside his specialty, Salk said this is a common complaint when scientists are innovative thinkers or have controversial ideas.

“Harry is an integrator,” Salk said admiringly. “He can deal with more complex problems that require a generalist.”

Born in New York, Demopoulos graduated in 1956 from the College of Medicine at the State University of New York and trained at the National Institutes of Health, the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology and UCLA. He wrote a book called “Cancer and the Environment” and has 92 published research papers.

He joined the New York University medical school faculty in 1967; his wife, Rita, is also on the NYU medical faculty. The couple live in fashionable Scarsdale; three of their four children are doctors, the fourth works with Demopoulos at his laboratory.

Although tenured, Demopoulos no longer keeps a laboratory at the university or draws a salary, preferring to devote himself to his own company and his writing. His current project for Random House is a book linking cancer with fat in the diet, with one chapter to be called “Fast Food in the Ghettos: The Killing Fields.”

Rumpled, paunchy and with wispy hair that is combed over a spreading bald spot, Demopoulos plays the role of professor in the courtroom, complete with blackboard and diagrams. He is eager for a reprise of his role in San Onofre II and, as in the first trial, he asks only that Tang’s lawyers pay for his plane ticket.

“I’ll be back,” Demopoulos said. “Absolutely.”