tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-167794852012-02-10T14:46:26.045-08:00An analog of a former forensic death investigator.Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.comBlogger121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-79827043831225722212011-12-04T22:54:00.000-08:002012-01-23T18:54:52.263-08:00

There are good reasons why I have not contributed anything to this blog for more than five years.   Incredibly enough, other chapters are close to being ready for publication, and have been for some time. The "investigating suicides" blog has pertinaciously refused to write itself, and somehow I have not been able to bring myself to finish and post any of the others until winning the battle

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1151361205875614242006-06-26T15:24:00.000-07:002012-02-10T14:40:08.789-08:00

Politics have little place in forensic science, yet the human factor allows political agenda to creep into the least appropriate places. Our office was unfortunate enough to be a focus of local political and media attention for over a year and even the subject of national attention for a short time. This was not a pleasant time for any of us. If you have read the previous entry with the

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1147666930606484922006-05-14T21:21:00.000-07:002010-05-11T10:35:33.803-07:00

For those of you following this series (which has been on a long hiatus), I will soon be posting the next chapter. The article included below provides some interesting background, not only about the scene that sparked a chain of events which changed our office forever, but about the personality of the pathologist I worked for during four of my five years as an investigator. I did not read

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1141075462008204042006-02-27T13:22:00.000-08:002011-12-16T11:53:52.557-08:00

The first vehicular death I ever worked was like no other I’ve seen. I managed to go all summer and fall in training without being on duty for one traffic death other than a pedestrian struck by a car. Then one night in early December, while I was still in training, the skeleton crew (no pun intended, really!) operating the M.E.’s Office called me in to cover an overnight shift. One

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1128627845523282702005-10-06T12:42:00.000-07:002012-02-10T14:02:22.209-08:00

Media, Pennsylvania is the county seat for Delaware County. Visually charming, it houses a quaint, historic downtown that is typical in the east coast, a playhouse, and pleasant surrounding residential areas. The homicide rate is (or was at the time) very low in the Media area. I had a handful of scenes in this town, and usually they were natural deaths. One scene I recall vividly was anything

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1127424379739605872005-09-22T14:25:00.000-07:002011-12-05T00:27:48.202-08:00

The dead, one gets used to seeing. Viewing a recently deceased person, touching a rapidly cooling body through gloved hands, even sometimes hearing the last inhaled air exit the body as I turned a decedent over to examine them took awhile longer to grow accustomed to. The recency of the departed life can often have a strong impact on even the strangers who are present. Actually watching

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1127338844833084112005-09-21T14:38:00.000-07:002010-05-11T11:08:46.774-07:00

During those late-night discussions we’ve all probably had, the question of the best and worst ways to die arise. Various methods of suffocation seem to be near the top of the "worst" list, according to many people I’ve spoken with about this. I’d have to agree; I know I feel at least a mild surge of panic if someone even playfully puts a pillow over my face. Being buried alive, and not just

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1126908942319991442005-09-16T15:13:00.000-07:002010-05-11T11:14:36.734-07:00

The death of an infant or child is never easy for anyone involved. Even with the death of a terminally ill child, there is rarely any comfort, sense of timeliness or justice – rather there exists only pain, despair, and guilt. I came to understand that for a parent, in the death of a child, age is incidental; most parents simply do not expect to outlive their children. This chapter, however,

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1126908638222210192005-09-16T15:09:00.000-07:002010-11-04T21:56:19.684-07:00

It was never about the autopsies for me. That is the “interior business,” in the most pragmatic sense of the term - inside the body, inside the autopsy suite. I learned a vast amount from assisting with autopsies, unquestionably, and I enjoyed the interior work for that reason. Despite that, for me, it was always about the scene. The investigation.  The puzzle-solving. From the time each call

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1126823908589789542005-09-15T15:36:00.000-07:002010-11-04T21:24:30.952-07:00

As with the first autopsy, the first scene I attended as an intern is not easily forgotten. I remember we (the staff) were in the autopsy suite doing the initial external examination of a pedestrian vs. train (the train won, but pedestrian was remarkably intact), when a call came in; an elderly woman was found deceased in her home. The on-call investigator and I responded to the scene, and

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1126823219633191122005-09-15T15:19:00.000-07:002010-11-04T21:15:41.431-07:00

In another time and place of my life, I was a forensic investigator. For five years during my mid to late twenties, nearly every day was fraught with the intricacies of deaths of the citizens in a county adjacent to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  I chose this. To me, this was the most relevant, logical, and exciting career path for someone with my educational focus. It combined all of my studies

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16779485.post-1126821590008835282005-09-15T14:58:00.000-07:002011-07-29T09:08:57.957-07:00

For years, when learning of my former profession, many people have said to me: "You really should write a book about it!” My standard response? "Yeah. I really should.”  Although I love writing, it took a long time for me to reach the point of actually wanting to apply my experiences to a literary medium. I verbalized some industry details in a local newspaper and television interview in August

Atalantahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17144646108838522504noreply@blogger.com0