The Strangest Vacation Day Ever…Very Creepy!
It’s a mystery how I ended up in the passenger seat of this hearse, sitting twenty-four inches away from the decomposing body of a fifty year old man. I’m the type of person that never watches horror movies nor desires to be in creepy situations ever; yet I am now experiencing this most terrifying event ever! The police and coroner are standing outside of the vehicle in this dead man’s driveway exchanging paperwork. I contemplate jumping out of the car, I feel so trapped and afraid, my thoughts are racing! I want to run away–down the street and never come back. Instead, I calmly ask the coroner’s assistant in the driver’s seat to roll down the windows. The temperature here in New Jersey is currently ten degrees Fahrenheit, the icy winds are blowing in and out of the hearse, mixing the rotting smells together inside this dead man’s taxi. This is not my idea of a relaxing, vacation day!
As a nursing assistant at Memorial Hospital, daily I’d have to use the employee entrance which is through the basement…it felt like I was walking through an underground bomb shelter. There are lengthy hallways all over the place with no signs to guide you and the walls were grayish-white with black scrape marks all over them from past collisions of medical equipment. I don’t think they’ve bothered to paint down here for a century or so. Take a right and there’s my elevator on the left, directly across from the morgue door. I’ve never been in a morgue before and we live in a smaller town so this morgue is also the county coroner’s lab. Every time I walked past that lab, my mind would flow rapidly with questions! Does it stink in there, is it cold, is there a creepy, old-guy-undertaker with wild, messy gray hair in there, cutting dead people’s chest wide open and sorting through body parts? Why can’t I just be like everyone else and pass by with no curiosities or concerns?
My shift in the cardiac nursing department began at 7:00 AM, it’s always chaotic from start to finish; doctors, nurses, phlebotomists, x-ray techs and visitors; the hallways are a constant flow of human traffic. Immediately, I collect my equipment and run from room to room taking and recording patient vitals; non-stop action: rush, rush, rush, stress, stress, stress; that’s what it’s like where I worked. Jerry is a pleasant elderly patient of mine this week, he and his wife are incredibly personable and friendly, we enjoyed an instant bond and friendship. On Wednesday, when I entered the room to take Jerry’s blood pressure I noticed he had a visitor: a tall and handsome Italian guy who was wearing a long white lab jacket. Jerry introduced Tom to me, “This is my favorite nephew, he works in Pathology-Dr. Cunningham’s assistant in the morgue.” Yes, pathology–dead body handlers, yikes! Tom quickly struck up a conversation with me and was very sociable, he doesn’t look at all like the hideous old crabby guy I imagined slicing up dead bodies in the mortuary downstairs.
Elevator in old mansion
Life moved on, I went home and then back and for to work as usual, weeks went by and then I ran into Tom in the cafeteria, I asked how his uncle had been doing and we exchanged a little small talk. As usual, time moved on; back and forth to work, weeks passed. Then one day Tom showed up on our unit to speak with a patient, I was extremely curious as to why-on-earth would he need to speak with a living patient…one that didn’t have a terminal diagnosis or at high risk for death, morticians belong in the basement lab, NOT in live patient’s rooms! Yuck! When Tom was on his way out, he came over to chit-chat with me for a few minutes. I could no longer hold in my curiosity, so I asked him why did he need to speak with one of our patients?! Come to find out, this patient was making arrangements for her amputated leg! Apparently, there are some people that insist that they are buried with all of their body parts at the time of death. The hospital pathology staff contacts the facilities to maintain the organs until the person dies. This was a disgusting thought indeed! Can you imagine being that particular amputee and having the thought randomly cross your mind a year or two later: “I wonder how my leg is doing today?” “Maybe I should visit my leg out there at the freezer in Arizona.”
During that conversation, I explained to my new friend Tom that I’ve always been terrified of dead bodies and autopsies, yet very intrigued by the entire process and work people like him endure in that profession.I thought it may be a great opportunity for a story I needed for a college assignment. He told me that I was welcome to tour the morgue anytime and he would also allow me to observe an actual autopsy. His statement got me thinking and I began sorting through my mixed emotions… I now have an official invitation to overcome all my death fears and work on the professor’s assignment as well. The idea of facing my life-long fear was intense. Many thoughts danced through my head… the death-phobia clung to my right shoulder saying you’re going to regret this; I will haunt you for the rest of your life, do NOT attempt a visit to death’s door! I heard the better voice to my left whispering: Conquer, face this fear, and you will be free! Discussion over, this is a once in lifetime opportunity, I’m in!
Burial time after the funeral, watching outside the hearse window… There’s the guy who received the $10 tip.
During my lunch break, I walked over to the elevator and pushed the button to the basement floor. I’m on my way down to the dungeon, I’ve arrived now, the door opens in front of me; I saw the huge, dirty metal with the word “mortuary” above it, the same sign I had passed by hundreds of days on my way in and out of the cardiac unit. I made a fist and knocked on that rock-solid door; Tom opened it and greeted me with an energetic, friendly smile saying “Come in”! He always had a festive demeanor. The first room was tiny, it looked like a mini funeral show room with a couple of silk flower arrangements, a small love seat and desk. I don’t recall much of our conversation but my eyes swiftly roamed everywhere, rapidly, looking for freaky-ness, the mysterious, and creepiness. My body felt tense and shaky; soon, I spied a huge refrigerator door, and then– the lab room down a short hallway. There was large L shaped sink-table, and off to the side of the room was “IT”, the most rancid, foul-smelling corpse, in a zipped up, black, body bag on a gurney.
I was so overwhelmed with fear and adrenaline, I only recall one specific thing Tom said during that half hour: “We are doing his autopsy at 1:00, this one is pretty bad, they found him in his apartment, he has been deceased for approximately one week.” This is gruesome, beyond words; we’ve had some nice hot temperatures this week, and I see flies, yes that’s right, several flies in the lab hovering close to IT. the stench of that morgue is hard to describe, but at this moment, suddenly I know exactly how 500 port potties filled with feces and vomit combined smells like on a steamy hot summers day. I could hardly endure the odors while the corpse zippered up and contained in the bag, so there’s no way I would be able to bear a minuscule more of a fumes after they open IT up. My stomach felt queasy and I felt a slight sensation of gauging, I had to decline the offer; I went back to work and felt content with my decision to pass on the invite.
Lucky for me, the opportunity arose again a short time after; this autopsy was for a woman that had died overnight in a motorcycle accident. No chance of spoilage, so I’m definitely observing this one. The police were present in the lab and a couple of medical students, so it was comforting to have several live humans in the room. Perhaps with extra people in the room, the odds of the body jumping up and grabbing me were lower, this is how I comforted my mind and anxieties. Turned out not to be disgusting at all, it was educational and interesting. The experience was very satisfying; I was instantly cured from my lifelong fear!
I left Memorial hospital and did not see Tom again. Three years later, I walked in to our local sports club and saw somebody familiar looking… it was Tom! I walked right up to him and we enthusiastically reunited; I felt that instant, warm friendship bond again with him. Tom and I discovered that we were actually neighbors, he lived down my street. Coincidentally, Tom and I were both on vacation that week, but later I found out that his idea of a vacation was exceptionally uncommon. One of the days we decided to attend a company party together. That get-together was the only event that qualified as an activity people should typically do on their “vacation”. We had a superb time wining and dining at the expense of our employer. During one of our conversations, I found out that Tom has a side job as a mortician for several funeral homes, plus he is a county coroner. I mentioned that I’d be interested in observing an embalming (another lifelong phobia and fear). He said he was officially on duty that very weekend and will notify me when he would perform an embalming.
It was early morning, vacation time! I have no appointments, no boss, no clients or worries. I feel so comfortable, relaxed, and refreshed waking up to a quiet house in the middle of the week with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and nobody to see. My bed feels so fluffy and the room is so warm on such a cold winters day. I want to stay here all day long. Beep, beep, beep… the first text of the day: “Be ready in fifteen minutes, I have an embalming to do.” I jumped out of bed and threw some clothes on… I was in the car, on my way to my first embalming procedure. My mind was racing; I imagined a modern lab with high tech equipment and lots of chemicals. We arrived, the funeral home, it was a marvelous Victorian mansion, I was fervently anticipating the entire experience of not only seeing the actual embalming, but now, I would hopefully get to tour the entire historic mansion also!
The funeral parlor was empty, no employees, no secretary no-nobody but Tom and I. I didn’t like that idea at all, it felt scary, just like watching the beginning of a horror movie; the thought of being trapped overcame my body for a few seconds. The embalming “lab” was down the rickety, dark stairway to the basement, it looked grim and eerie. At the bottom of the steps and to our right, was small gurney with a zippered up body bag. My fears returned, as I wondered what the body looked like underneath the wrinkly plastic. The “lab” was ancient, the floor was checkered black and white and dirty. I continued to look around; there were old antique articles of furnishings and clothing everywhere in the first room where I stood at the door to observe. That lab was much too small for me to feel like I could quickly escape if I became startled or sick, so that’s why I remained outside the door. The embalming was interesting, and also I was shocked at how out of date and dusty everything looked, it did not completely surprise me that the fluid pump (which looked like it was made in the 1800s) broke. Luckily this procedure did not smell, no dealing with unpleasant fumes this time. I tried not to look too much as Tom cut a slit into the corpse’s chest and inserted a tube; it reminded me of a murder scene or cutting up chicken in my kitchen.
One of Tom’s colleagues came in during the procedure and offered to give me a tour of the funeral home. I was elated and quickly accepted the offer. Ron took me into the antique service elevator from the late 1800’s, it had the black and gold metal bars, plain black indicator buttons, and a small window to see the cables as we rode upward. Actually, this was no ordinary elevator at all, it was a time machine! Immediately, I am now standing in a beautifully decorated room, from the 1950’s! The couches, chairs, tables, pictures and statues were extraordinary and luxurious—had we currently been living in the 20th century! The place was a snap shot of the past, everything around me was in perfect and new condition, this was the official Twilight Zone! Every room took me back to the 50’s. The offices had the big old heavy black, round-dial phones; coffins were displayed with old price tags, the wallpaper was antique yellow with the classic 50’s print. The couches, chairs, tables, carpet and statues were untouched, completely in mint-new condition. It’s obvious this place had rarely been used throughout the centuries. It was a bizarre atmosphere, the creepiest funeral parlor I’ve ever imagined or observed in my life. Note to self: Do not recommend this place for a funeral to family, friends or pets!
We are now suddenly on our way to another funeral home, someone forgot to tell Tom he needed to perform as the legal officiate for a funeral in the next town in fifteen minutes! We hastily arrived, the pace is moving fast, we were not prepared for this last minute occasion, and then somehow Tom and his assistant decide that I could meet and greet loved ones as they enter at the door. They can’t be serious, I’ve been to only three funerals in my whole life and now I am one of the official greeters!?! I was to welcome the mourners and direct them to the proper room along with a real employee. I’m adventurous and sociable so it was the perfect surprise situation for someone with this type of personality. I’m guessing many people would not welcome such a spontaneous and spotlight position. The guests slowly trickle in for the next half hour.
“Paul took that suicide case last night”. Tom says to Jeff as we stand in the greeting hall watching a tiny little elderly lady slowly walk down the long hallway entrance toward us. “Yeah, ever since he bought that crematory, he’s been stealing business from Darlene (another local funeral home).” Jeff replies, “I know, last week he got the Jennings guy too”. “It’s not right, I’m sick of being in the middle of all of it, they’re going to find out eventually”. Tom said “Hey, didn’t she look great (the body in the basement of this funeral home that he prepared a day ago)?” says Tom “The left hand wouldn’t take the fluid (the embalming fluid has pink dye in to make the body look more lively) properly, but I used that new makeup with powder, they’ll never notice, I liked the way she looks (as if the family would be keen to such a detail).” The casual conversation of funeral directors made me want to burst out laughing, could you imagine if the guests knew what type of dialogue transpires as they come into the funeral home to pay respects to their loved one?!
I’m in the front seat of a hearse for the first time ever, the coffin is in the back and it’s cemetery time! “This is the first time I’ve ever been in a hearse”!!! I excitedly told Jeff, I felt so grateful for this opportunity to finally overcome my fears and curiosities! “Uh ha.” He replied with no emotion or interest. He obviously could not relate to how ecstatic I felt about sitting in a real hearse. “Do you want one of these mints (there’s a stockpile of those round, red and white hard candies in the old fashioned ashtray)”? Jeff asked me. “Yeah, definitely”! I said “Tom and I’ve been out all day with nothing to eat, my stomach is growling, maybe I will have two.” I joked. I was beginning to regret not eating one morsel as I dashed out the door that morning. Hunger pains are uncomfortable and my stomach began to grumble. My eyes raced all around the vehicle, looking at every detail, the gold Cadillac emblem, the leather seats, everything looked so shiny, vibrant and perfect. I bet this thing is brand new. “What year is this hearse?” I asked. “2000” Jeff replied. Looking over at the odometer I exclaimed “Wow, 800 miles on this car!?” “Yeah” he replied, as if it’s not interesting or amazing that a 2000 Cadillac is basically brand new in our year of 2012!
It’s cloudy and cold out here; this cemetery is at the very top of an impressive sized hill. Looking downward, this is a gorgeous view; the snow is covering the landscape of scattered smaller hills below us. It’s freezing outside, we have to stay for the whole funeral, just standing around looking at the loved ones as they listen to the preacher talk. My entire body feels achy, hungry and chilly; my nose feels frozen and numb. I bet nobody would notice if I quietly sneak back into the car. I nonchalantly walked back to the passenger side of the hearse and entered. I made it discretely, it feels like a small victory; I’m going to stay in this sweet ride, it’s still nice and warm inside, immediately begin to feel better. Now I seem to have the time to think for the first time all day; we’ve been zipping all over death city for hours upon hours. When I jumped out of bed this morning, I thought I’d be right back home before noon. My stomach is growling, I’m so thirsty and hungry, this burial is taking forever. I shouldn’t have risked this during a quiet ceremony outside, but I thought it would be fun to see if the orange flashing police shaped light works. I plugged it into the cigarette lighter and presto, it looks pretty cool. Tom walks over to the hearse where I’m relaxing and says “Do you have ten bucks I can borrow”? The thought that came to my head was seriously Tom, what can a person buy at a graveyard (I knew it was very unlikely, but I had a glimpse of hope for a few seconds; perhaps there’s a vending machine, because I’m feeling extremely hungry)?! Tom replies, “I want to tip the worker (the young man in charge of burying this body)”. Sarcastic and humorously I thought to myself: it would never cross my mind to tip the guy that buries this nice elderly lady, what every-day person knows that gratuity rule?!
Oh good, I see all the people are leaving, they are done… victory! Time to go eat the biggest meal of my entire life! I have been sitting in the car for it seems like hours, but minutes seem like hours or days when a person realizes how long they’ve gone without food or drink. I’m constantly looking out the window to see when we can go grab something to eat… Great! I see Tom coming! finally, food! Tom approaches “Are you playing with the lights?” “Yeah, I was kind of bored”. To my disappointment, we are not leaving, Tom needs to stay until the workers entirely bury the coffin. Hurry the hell up, I’m thinking to myself, people need to eat and go home! I was emotionally exhausted, this day was full of excitement, fear, action, sadness, grossness and education, my brain and spirit were on complete overload.
Tom stands outside still in the cold and takes a call: “Hello, Tom speaking”, “Yes Mrs. Ross, we are still waiting for the labs to come back from toxicology”, “No, your son has been taken to the funeral home now”, “I’m so sorry about your loss, it’s very, very sad”. “Uh, huh”. “Will you be alright Mrs. Ross?”, “I know this is very stressful for you”, “Okay”, “Yes, be sure to take care of yourself; try to keep your chin up.” “I will personally call you on Monday when we get the test results back” Tom said. I’ve heard him speak to numerous loved ones throughout the course of our friendship. He always knows what to say to them, he speaks in a kind and comforting tone like Jesus. He’s very gifted at consoling people in this business. He never fails to show genuine love and compassion for family and friends of the deceased. He has managed to appropriately and completely cut off his nose to all the intense and grotesque aspects of the business, yet still keeps his heart 100% clear for compassion and concern for the people most important.
“Jeff is on his way with the coroner’s hearse, the police are waiting for us right now in Jamestown, someone found a body inside a home, and it’s been there for a week” Jim announces. I’m still starving to death (no pun intended) and this does not sound like a quicker-picker-upper! I have no car, no way to go back to my normal life at home where it’s safe and sheltered from this unfortunate profession of death. Dreadfully, I’m stuck going to this emergency coroner assignment. Tom must be starving also?! I’m thinking to myself, can we take the hearse to a drive through? It’s not too big and I imagine there’s no law against such a thing? “The police are calling again, wondering why it’s taking us so long” says Tom. I could eat my left arm right about now, but who needs food when you’re about to encounter one of the most gruesome scenes imaginable?
The young man in the the official coroner’s hearse arrived, there are only 2 seats so Tom volunteered to kneel in the back. It’s the year of 2012 yet there is no GPS in the hearse? Tim is a young intern, he is the driver and is holding a piece of paper with the address on it, no directions and no GPS, so we all took a bunch of guesses how to get to investigation site. “I think it’s right after the golf course by Emery Lane.” Jeff said. “Actually, I’ve been in that area before, it’s right behind the high school off Lincoln Ave.” Replies Jim I thought this profession would be slightly more high tech or on the cutting edge! Lucky for us, we saw a few police cars and we arrived quickly, with no wrong turns.
It’s an upscale neighborhood, secluded from the average homes outside the entrance, we all enter the big brown house. Perhaps there are dead fish, ground beef, feces and seafood rotting all over the house! There’s no way a person can block out the horrendous stench!s What intensifies this smell is the fact that it is hot in here, I’m guessing the temperature was around 95 degrees, the smell is dense and concentrated, it feels like you are eating it or something. I prefer to wait right by the front door, I can’t take one step closer to those fumes! I am well aware of the fact that I am never going to be ready to witness what they are about to see. The body is upstairs in his bedroom. I’m overwhelmed by the smells and thought of seeing a body in this condition, I want to flee! I need to get away! I find it very commendable that all these cops and officials are able to work in these conditions. None of them are hesitating or complaining at all. Me, I’m not like them, I’m freaking out on the inside, I can’t take it! I don’t want to appear as unprofessional, so I manage to keep a nice, friendly, yet somber expression. I can no longer stay in this wretched house, so I discretely opened the front door and walked outside.
It almost seemed enjoyable to stand out in the 10 degree temperatures and whipping winds compared to where I just came from. I was out there for only five minutes and began to wonder if my body will turn into a Popsicle, its bone-chilling cold, I can’t take it anymore but I need to do this. Think positive: I’m not cold, this is fine. I walk around a bit this should help me warm up. No, in fact I feel even colder, I have to go back in the house; maybe I can put my sense of smell into some type denial mode for the sake of survival. I put on my professional-in control look again and opened the door. The police and coroners are bringing the body down the stairs now. This is good, it’s almost time to leave, I want to go home, it’s been too much gloom and doom for me in one day! I wonder how these people can tolerate so much death and disaster throughout the week…week after week, month after month, decade after decade, this is their life; they have trained their emotions and noses to perfection.
I was in such a hurry to get out of the human oven that I neglected to consider the fact that this particular stinky, monstrous body would be coming along with us, 24 inches away from me in the car. I get back into the front seat of the hearse. It’s only ten minutes to the hospital/morgue, can I tolerate this? The smell is going to be horrible! I can make an ass out of myself, get out of the vehicle and walk home, but all the cops and coroners will see me when I escape. I calculated the social costs, weighed it against the tormenting fumes, and decided to keep a professional and responsible reputation. Tom and Tim load the body into the back and get in. “We triple bagged him so it won’t be too bad”. Tom announces to me. “Thanks guys, that was a really good idea”. I replied. There we were, driving down the highway next to a rotting and stinking corpse, it still smelled incredibly bad. “It doesn’t smell in here now, can you please close the windows?” Tom kindly asks. “No Tom, it’s still really bad, I can’t take it”. I replied. “How about half closed”? I pleaded “I don’t smell anything do you Tim”? Asks Tom “No, not anymore, it’s fine” said Tim. For the first time today, I had to really focus on not throwing up. It took a lot of mind power to do. I concentrated on the fact that this day would soon come to an end and I will never have to come back to this morbid business ever again.
I’m happy to report; within one hour, I was safe at home with take out food to reward my poor stomach. It took me a few weeks to recover emotionally from that vacation day. From that point on, Tom and I just hung out and did normal people things like going to the movies and patronized the sports club for a few drinks with friends. Tom loves it now when I ask him “How was hell today”? He feels validated and appreciates the fact that I understand his contribution and sacrifice he gives us normal everyday people. Tom and I never did end up doing anything that would be considered a fun, vacation day this past winter, but the knowledge I learned and appreciation for people like him that work in the mortuary field were priceless and very rewarding. I wouldn’t change a thing, with the exception of eating a quick breakfast before I left the house.
jacquelineheinemann 
Reblogged this on jacquelineheinemann and commented:
Enjoy a good and gross short story!
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