The skeleton of a young woman from a 17th century archaeological site in Buffalo, West Virginia, revealed a massive lower jaw tumor when it was uncovered in 1963. At the time, it was impossible to determine exactly what kind of tumor it was. Current analytical techniques, however, have revealed its true nature and its impact on her life.
On the east bank of the Kanawha River in Putnam County, WV, about 30 miles downstream from Charleston, the small town of Buffalo used to be a settlement composed mostly of Shawnee people who were later forced westward and now live primarily in Oklahoma. More than 500 skeletons were unearthed here, buried in shallow graves under the floors of their houses, in the mid-1960s by the West Virginia Geological and Economic Survey. One skeleton in particular, a woman in her early 20s, was immediately identified as having a tumor of unknown type.
As this skeleton is curated among the collections of the West Virginia Archaeological Society in Moundville, WV, a team of researchers led by Bruce Rothschild of the Carnegie Museum sought to re-analyze it to learn more about the ancient pathology. Writing in a newly published article in the International Journal of Osteoarchaeology, Rothschild and colleagues from West Virginia University and the Grave Creek Mound Archaeological Complex detail their non-destructive analysis of the woman's tumor, which was fragmented during initial excavation and recovery. Their work was carried out under an agreement with tribal representatives.
The tumor, measuring 24 by 23 by 19 centimeters, was examined through x-rays, CT, micro-CT, and epi-illumination microscopy. Initially, the researchers hypothesized it was an osteosarcoma because of its large size. This is the most common type of bone cancer and often found in teenagers and young adults. Upon closer examination of the tumor through x-ray, CT, and epi-illumination, their hypothesis changed to osteoblastoma. This rare form of bone tumor, though, is more common in males and most often occurs in the spine, not the jaw. Micro-CT analysis was the final technique used, and this helped the researchers reject the hypothesis of osteoblastoma, in favor of their original diagnosis: osteosarcoma, specifically an osteoblastic osteosarcoma.
"The mandible is a rare location for osteosarcomas," Rothschild and colleagues write. "Osteoblastomas also account for less than 1% of bone tumors, and only 5% of those affect the mandible," making this woman's jaw tumor very rare indeed. But "we now have a solution to a half-century mystery" of the nature of the tumor, they conclude.
Beyond the diagnosis, though, Rothschild and colleagues speculate on the effect this large tumor would have had on this young woman's life. "She likely had [the tumor] for many months, if not years, given the slow growing nature of osteoblastic osteosarcomas," they note. But "other than the challenge of having a 5-pound weight attached to her mandible, there was no obvious evidence of compromised food intake."
That her lifestyle was not particularly disrupted by the tumor can also be seen in her burial. "She is buried in the middle of over 500 other individuals. There appeared neither specially assigned status nor discrimination in burial position or location," the researchers conclude. Leaving aside the woman's young age at death, which was not particularly early compared to others in this cemetery, her tumor does not appear to have compromised how she lived her life or how she was viewed in death by other members of her 17th century society.
