A few years ago, in reviewing Nelson Mandela's autobiography, "Long Walk to Freedom," the Boston Sunday Globe delivered the kind of endorsement publishers dream about: "Should be read by every person alive."

The Globe's quote went straight onto the book's front cover.

I would like to plagiarize that sentiment after reading an advance copy of Leeann Whiffen's book, "A Child's Journey Out of Autism."

If you're a parent, if you know of people who are parents, if you know of people who are thinking of being parents, you should read this book.

That's pretty close to every person alive.

That of course is no small statement, but the two-part message in Whiffen's book is no small message.

First, that autism is a modern-day epidemic of such enormous proportion that one in every 150 kids is diagnosed with some form of the disorder.

Second, it can be beaten.

The story of how Leeann, an American Fork housewife, and her businessman husband, Sean, discovered their middle son, Clay, had autism before he was 2, how they attacked the challenge with every ounce of energy — and debt — they could muster, and how they finally emerged after more than two long years with a reversal of the condition is pure inspiration.

But what is more important — and jarring — is the evidence that society, including so-called modern medicine, continues to mostly turn a blind eye to a genuine plague that is silently and regularly attacking defenseless infants.

Whereas 20 years ago, one in 5,000 kids was diagnosed with autism in America, now 80 kids a day and 30,000 a year are diagnosed.

As Bryan Jepson, a former Utah doctor now living in Texas and ardent advocate for autism research, writes in the foreword of Leeann's book, such statistics make onetime monster problems such as polio pale in comparison.

The story of Clay Whiffen's journey shows that the brain development disorder known as autism is undoubtedly caused by much more than pure genetics. Vaccinations could be a contributor, as could antibiotics, and any number of other "environmental insults."

Clay's story points to the importance of caution and, when necessary, early detection and treatment. There is a small window when the brain is pliable and resilient enough to be re-trained.

Clay — today a thriving, normal 8-year-old gymnast — is proof of that. But what's daunting is how many Clays are imprisoned by autism for life because their condition was allowed to begin and left to linger due to ignorance or, worse, just plain bad advice.