[
Science,
1984]
In a dimly lit laboratory room in Gottingen, West Germany, Einhard Schierenberg bent his long, angular frame over his microscope, watching and counting, recording what he saw on charts and videotapes, hour upon hour, day after day, intermittently for six years. Five hundred miles away in a tiny, starkly equipped cubbyhole in Cambridge, England, John Sulston was doing the same thing, hunched over his microscope, earphones on his head to block any sound that might divert him from the image in his eyepiece. Sometimes he would sit watching all day long, diligently marking in a notebook with his colored pens. Schierenberg and Sulston were learning, cell by cell, how to build a worm.
[
Science,
1990]
Can a lowly worm help neurobiologists untangle the pathology of Alzheimer's, Huntington's, Parkinson's, and other human brain diseases? That surprising question kept cropping up at a recent Dahlem conference on degenerative brain disorders. Although progress has been made toward understanding those disorders, conference participants had to conclude that they don't yet know nearly enough about how brain cells die. And that's where the lowly worm may
[
Nature,
1998]
Some species of the nematode worm (Caenorhabditis elegans) are sociable diners, clumping together to share a meal, yet others are more solitary. Why? According to a report by de Bono and Bargmann, these differences can be explained by a change of just one amino acid in a putative neuropeptide receptor.
[
Science,
2002]
The nematode worm known as Caenorhabditis elegans is not much to look at. Just a millimeter long and transparent to boot, it is almost invisible to the naked eye. But in biological research the tiny worm looms large, providing a model system for studying everything from embryonic development to aging. Now, three researchers who pioneered the use of C. elegans as a model organism have won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine.