When David Kimberlin, M.D., arrived at UAB in 1994, he joined a legacy decades in the making. Drawn by UAB’s expertise in virology, Kimberlin became part of a multi-institutional effort—first called the Collaborative Antiviral Study Group (CASG) and now known as the Congenital and Perinatal Infections Consortium (CPIC)—dedicated to understanding and treating rare viral infections in newborns.
The origins of this work stretch back to the early 1970s, when Kimberlin’s mentor at UAB, Richard Whitley, M.D., and Whitley’s mentor, Charles Alford, M.D., recognized two key truths. First, antiviral drugs were just emerging, offering opportunities for the treatment of viral infections that few believed possible at the time. Second, pharmaceutical companies were unlikely to focus on rare diseases affecting newborns. Their solution was visionary: bring together medical centers across the country to pool expertise and patients, creating the power to study—and eventually treat—these conditions.
The results have been transformative. Through sustained NIH funding since 1973, the consortium has proven that life-threatening conditions such as neonatal herpes, congenital cytomegalovirus (CMV), and neonatal enteroviral sepsis can be treated effectively. Kimberlin’s leadership of the research network added to that impact, showing that oral antiviral therapy following intravenous treatment for neonatal herpes improved long-term neurological outcomes and that longer-term treatment of congenital CMV improved both hearing and neurodevelopment—findings that became standard of care.
For Kimberlin, distinguished professor in the Division of Pediatric Infectious Diseases, Department of Pediatrics, these studies are not just about science; they’re about people. Many of the viruses his team studies can cause profound harm: neonatal herpes can kill or leave lasting brain injury, while CMV is the leading cause of non-genetic hearing loss in children. Behind every clinical trial are families navigating fear and uncertainty, and—most importantly—seeking hope.
That hope, Kimberlin says, is at the heart of clinical research. “The intersection of clinical trials and patient care provides the opportunity for hope,” he explained. “Not false hope, but the chance for people to consider a potentially groundbreaking option for themselves or their child.” Success, in his view, is defined by the opportunity to give people the options and information they need to make their own informed choice.
Research in newborns is complex. Parents must decide on behalf of their child, and the studies themselves must be designed with extraordinary care. Kimberlin admits his approach evolved after becoming a parent himself—shifting from “Cadillac studies” heavy on data collection to more practical “Chevy studies” that still answer essential scientific questions without unnecessary burden on infants or families.
That careful balance of science and compassion has yielded impressive results. In April 2009, the H1N1 “swine flu” pandemic began to unfold. While the world scrambled for answers, UAB’s pediatric infectious disease team was already running a study on oseltamivir (Tamiflu) dosing in infants—the only such data available anywhere. Kimberlin received a call from the FDA the Sunday after the first two cases were recognized in California: Could UAB share its findings immediately? By that afternoon, the data were in Washington. Within 48 hours, the FDA, European Medicines Agency, and Japanese regulators had issued life-saving treatment guidelines for babies under 12 months old.
Today, Kimberlin’s role has expanded as UAB’s associate vice president for Clinical Trials. He touts the development of the Academic Research Organization for Clinical Trials (ARO-CT), an initiative designed to remove administrative barriers so UAB researchers can focus on science and bringing clinical trial opportunities to their patients, as an important step forward in growing UAB’s clinical trials enterprise.
The aim of ARO-CT is threefold: streamline processes for faster study start-up, support investigators in enrolling participants, and strengthen opportunities for industry-sponsored research.
For Kimberlin, the power of hope is not abstract—it is tangible in every trial, every conversation with a family, every incremental step toward a cure or better outcome. “We went into medicine to work with people and give them options to make their lives better,” he said. “Clinical trials do that. They give patients, and those who love them, a reason to hope.”