Sometimes how you get the call is an important part of the story. Sometimes, it\u2019s who calls you, sometimes it why they thought you needed to be called, sometimes it why you weren\u2019t called. All these little nuances to being a small town, rural county coroner fascinate me. So, when I picked up my phone on a warm fall afternoon and I got gruff old Ivan\u2019s voice yelling into my ear, \u201cDoc!?\u201d, I didn\u2019t expect this to be a coroner call.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah Ivan, what can I do for you?\u201d He\u2019s 85 years old, a crusty skin and bones old rancher in the east county. I see him maybe once a year as his doctor, less if he had his way. But the time I stuck him in the hospital with congestive failure and told him he wouldn\u2019t make his 82nd<\/sup> birthday inspired him to come in annually after that, mainly to rub my nose in my errant prognosis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I saw him more when his wife was dying. They cared for her at home right up to the end. She got demented and went fast, thank God. I\u2019d met her three or four years earlier and while I was asking her about her family history, she looked me in the eye and told me a fractured but intelligible story of her brother, five years older, who\u2019d gotten demented and died within a year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat old Alzheimer\u2019s can really take you down,\u201d she\u2019d tsk\u2019ed and shook her head. I nodded but silently disagreed. Alzheimer\u2019s usually takes some one five years or more after the initial diagnosis. My mom had taken more than ten years. Usually, it\u2019s plenty of time for families to flounder with personality changes, bed sores, diaper changes, nursing home costs and guilt. But Ivan\u2019s Irene had just gotten pleasantly forgetful and died a year later. Her pattern, and her brothers made me fear I\u2019d missed a diagnosis. None of this was on Ivan\u2019s still sharp mind this fall Saturday afternoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou still the coroner?\u201d he yelled. His deafness made him yell. He was the deaf one, but he yelled to others out of politeness, I guess. \u201cI know I voted for you once but maybe I missed something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah Ivan, I\u2019m still the coroner. You fixing to die or something?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHow can I help you? Yes, I\u2019m still the coroner.\u201d That last part as loud as I could yell into the phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh no, I\u2019m not dead. At least I don\u2019t think so.\u201d He laughs. \u201cSay, I got a dead guy for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYup. Out on American Ridge. I was out looking to bring in some cows and found him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou call the sheriff?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo. Should I? I don\u2019t think he needs arresting, he\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhere are you now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m back at the house. But he\u2019s up on the ridge like I said.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOK Ivan. I\u2019m going to call the sheriff\u2019s office then we\u2019ll come out to your house, and you can show us this guy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhen\u2019ll it be?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMaybe an hour. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI was gonna get something to eat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou go right ahead. See you soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I hadn\u2019t wanted to suss out details, yelling into the phone and his hard of hearing. I knew Ivan was a solid guy and wouldn\u2019t be calling me about some pile of deer bones or an old flannel jacket on a log. So, I called the sheriff\u2019s office. I think this was the first and only time I ever called them about a dead body. They usually called me. But it can go all sorts of ways. One time the funeral home called the local police about a coroner case. An old guy had driven his \u201963 Chevy truck into the funeral home parking lot, taped a note to the driver side window and shot himself behind the wheel. He was trying to save us all the hassle. But we all got rousted out anyway and then had to call to get his bloody truck towed away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I got to Ivan\u2019s house after the deputy. They have radios. The deputy and Ivan were up on the front porch. Though sunny, there was a fall chill and a westerly breeze that suggested rain. Hunting season was full bore, so my hunch was this body was a lost hunter. But usually Search and Rescue hears about such a thing before the guy\u2019s feet get cold. He doesn\u2019t come back to camp and the word goes out. Still, some guys go out by themselves, break a leg, who knows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I climb the porch steps. \u201cHello Ivan. Hello Brandon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ivan smiles. Brandon grins. \u201cDid you take a wrong turn doc?\u201d He knows I\u2019m famous for getting lost on the county roads.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo, I just had to put the tools away. I\u2019m mudding some sheet rock.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh yeah. Don\u2019t want that shit to dry on the tools.\u201d He\u2019s being familiar but I doubt he\u2019s ever remodeled or fixed up even his single wide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo, what have we got?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIvan here says it\u2019s a plane wreck.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cReally?\u201d I\u2019m surprised. I felt bad for not asking more over the phone. But in person is best with this old guy. I made him come in once a year at least for his medicine refills, though he only took one or two pills, way below average. He took great glee showing me he had beat my prognosis. I had to go over him pretty good, since he minimized everything. The 2-centimeter skin cancer on his right shoulder I\u2019d found under the Carhart jacket, wool shirt and long underwear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh, that.\u201d He\u2019d said when I asked him about it. Plane wreck? Small potatoes, I guess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ivan was retelling Brandon about how he\u2019d noticed all the broken trees across the canyon. I could figure this was a retelling since Brandon rolled his eyes at me. Somebody had to cut him off; we\u2019re losing daylight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo, Ivan, can you get us to this wreck? I wore my boots. How far is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He puckered to an expression of thought. \u201cWell, what rig we gonna take?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhich one did you take?\u201d I yell at Ivan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon interrupted. \u201cYou get the twenty doc. I\u2019m gonna tell dispatch about the plane wreck thing.\u201d He went to his rig and the radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ivan\u2019s grinning at me about his answer. \u201cWell, doc, I was on Sadie.\u201d He looked at me intently and waited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWho\u2019s Sadie?\u201d You gotta let them tell the joke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe\u2019s my old mare!\u201d He slaps his thigh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Old brittle 85-year-old on horseback with congestive failure rubbing my doctor nose in it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo how can I get there?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou driving that thing?\u201d He nods at my rusty old Toyota two-wheel drive pickup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI drove it here. We need four-wheel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s a bit muddy past the gate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe\u2019ll take the deputy\u2019s rig. It\u2019s got four-wheel.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon said no one knew of any plane wrecks but dispatch was going to check with the FAA. We all got into the deputy\u2019s Ford Explorer. I got to sit in the back where the doors don\u2019t open from the inside, so Ivan managed the gates. They were his anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was about three in the afternoon now and it would be getting dark by 5:30 or 6. At least it wasn\u2019t raining yet or snowing. We passed three wire gates then we get into broken timber. Ivan was telling Brandon how he\u2019d come at it a different way on horseback so he\u2019s not sure we can see it here from the dirt track. \u201cHell, Sadie saw it first!\u201d he yells. \u201cI\u2019m looking for cows and she keeps staring off at the far ridge, so\u2019s I think she\u2019s seeing some there, but that\u2019s when I saw the broken trees and the plane.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDid you go up to it?\u201d Brandon asks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNaw, but I could see something in the pilot\u2019s seat with the glasses. He\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n After twenty minutes and maybe five miles Ivan suggests we stop. By the rig he offers, \u201cJust climb up this ridge and head south a bit.\u201d He\u2019s gesturing with gnarled hands and stiff shoulders. \u201cWe was up on this ridge I think when we seen it.\u201d He twists back. \u201cI could show you but I\u2019m not too good in this downfall.\u201d Another gimped up gesture and I\u2019m looking for a path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIf you\u2019re staying here, I\u2019ll leave the keys with you if you need to warm up.\u201d Brandon handed the old man the keys.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We clambered over logs and through brush. I didn\u2019t sense any ridge nor even magnetic direction. After thirty minutes we agreed to go back and get Ivan. \u201cI seen you were dropping down too soon\u201d he grinned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There were the usual jokes about if anybody got hurt at least we had a doctor. And if it really went to shit, we had the coroner. I\u2019ve heard them too many times. Ivan was remarkably agile, though slow and I\u2019m thinking of daylight. He followed game trails and stayed with the grade until we came to a clearing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou might be able to see some broken trees from here off that a way.\u201d He gestured again. Both Brandon and I looked off. It was a quarter mile or so below us still. The thing that got my attention was the fine white dusting across a couple hundred yards before the broken trees and white fuselage shined at us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThink it was a crop duster?\u201d Brandon asks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNope,\u201d I say. \u201cThey don\u2019t spray white powder.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOK Ivan, we can see it. Do you think you can get back up to the rig?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI think I better stay with you guys. You got pretty fouled up last time I sent you off. It ain\u2019t far.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We dipped back down into the timber following the old man. There was a temptation, like when you shoot a deer, to head off full bore to where you think it\u2019s down. But long ago I learned that temptation is to be avoided. Slow and steady got Ivan to 85. By the looks of it he\u2019ll make 90 at this rate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The white powder I saw contrasting the dark needles wasn\u2019t visible on the ground, but I warned Brandon. \u201cDon\u2019t touch the ground and put your fingers in your mouth. You won\u2019t be passing any drug screens the sheriff puts you through.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIs it OK to breathe?\u201d He chuckles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOnly through your nose.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wreckage was mostly intact though both wings had sheared, and the fuselage buckled. We could see it was a twin-engine prop, no numbers on it. Ivan had stopped and was looking back. \u201cI think I spotted her from up over there.\u201d He gestures back toward a clearing across the canyon a couple hundred yards up and over; always orienting. \u201cI could see the guy in the pilot\u2019s seat. He\u2019s dead. That\u2019s why I called you.\u201d He reminds us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon was ahead of us downhill looking into the tilted cabin, past the bent and split open fuselage. There were lots of wrapped bricks and white powder back here. He hustled up the slope a little breathless. \u201cI gotta call this in. They\u2019re gonna want to know about this. I\u2019ll head back to my radio in the rig. Hope I can raise them here. If I can\u2019t I\u2019ll drive out a ways. You guys gonna be OK? I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d He was panting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTake your time.\u201d Ivan advised. \u201cWe\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon scoots up the sidehill back toward the Explorer. I walk down toward the cockpit. Ivan follows. It\u2019s pretty quiet here in this canyon, no wind, but I can see it\u2019s getting gray. We have another couple hours of light I figure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The windows are all broken out and I can step into the tilted plane pretty easily with the left side torn open. Ivan was right, the pilot was very dead, not days, just pale and stiff. But it\u2019s been cool, and this is a north slope, so maybe a couple days. No animals had gotten to him. There\u2019s blood out both ears and the head is tilted at a funny angle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I spook when \u201cWhat do you think killed him doc?\u201d is yelled in my ear. Ivan is all serious and frowning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJesus, Ivan.\u201d I want to tell him to soften his voice here in the presence of the dead, but I know it\u2019s no use. \u201cI think he died in a plane wreck.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ivan\u2019s laughter is loud, and he laughs too long; my skin crawls a bit, I don\u2019t know why. He gets serious and asks me intently, wanting to know. \u201cNo, I mean doc, did he bleed to death? I see some blood but not that much.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh, Ivan, it\u2019s hard to tell. Here let me check.\u201d I reach in and twist his head a bit and feel some grating bones. \u201cYeah, I think his neck is broken.\u201d The yelling I have to do makes this almost obscene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut is that what killed him? People survive\u2026\u201d he trailed off as I turned my back to him. I wanted to get some identification. There were satchels that looked like luggage on the cabin floor and more stacked up where the copilot\u2019s seat would have been. I zipped open a small one behind the pilot\u2019s seat. There on top of rumpled clothes were three passports, one Columbian, one Mexican, one Peruvian. Miguel Sandoval was on the Mexican, Manuel Salinas was on the Peruvian and Miguel Santoro was on the Columbian. There were three other satchels jumbled next to him. I unzipped one. Bundles of US currency were neatly stacked and wrapped, some fifties, some twenties, some hundreds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I jumped again when Ivan said, quieter this time, \u201cDon\u2019t know as I\u2019d called you guys if I\u2019d a known all that was there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon got back in about a half hour. He looked troubled. \u201cWe\u2019ll stay put \u2018til they get here. Won\u2019t be long.\u201d For some reason I didn\u2019t ask who. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you take Ivan back up to the rig so he don\u2019t have to scramble around if it gets dark.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ivan and I made the slow walk back to the Explorer, then I headed back down and across the slope, a little faster on my own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When the big black helicopter came over just before dark and all the paramilitary dark suited guys came down the slope, I knew it wasn\u2019t our sheriff\u2019s department. A short man approached us with his combat weapon by his side as the others fanned out and disappeared in the gloom. He had night vision goggles up on his helmet, black clothes, black gloves and a smile. He didn\u2019t offer his hand. He spoke to Brandon. \u201cOK, we got it. You can take off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon nodded and softly gestured to me as he turned up the slope. \u201cHey,\u201d was my simple objection and the short man turned toward me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWho are you?\u201d he shot at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m the county coroner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n His smirk didn\u2019t feel so good. \u201cYou can go, sir. We got it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd just who are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon was three or four steps up the slope. He stuck out a beckoning hand. \u201cC\u2019mon doc.\u201d Like I\u2019m a balky puppy. The short guy was getting ready to turn away again and I asserted all the authority a county coroner has. \u201cWhat happens to the body?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n This time he wasn\u2019t deferential. He snapped back toward me and up in the trees I could see a dark shape, maybe two, step into view. The short man looked me directly in the eyes. \u201cYou can go. We got this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brandon was now stepping down the slope, impatient with me. \u201cCome on doc. We\u2019re going. These guys are taking over. They\u2019ll take care of it. We gotta get back.\u201d He put his hand on my shoulder, softly, not like he would have grabbed a puppy\u2019s scruff, but like we were having beers. \u201cC\u2019mon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The trail back up was dark. I only slipped a couple times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou guys see that big black heelocopter?\u201d Ivan asked. Brandon wouldn\u2019t tell us nothing. Maybe he didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was about three weeks later I got a call from the medical examiner\u2019s office in Spokane. \u201cDr. Hawthorne?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, how can I help you?\u201d I hadn\u2019t requested their services for years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe have a body here and we need your permission to release it to the family.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m clueless. \u201cWho is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cManuel Sandoval\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy are you calling me? I don\u2019t know this guy. It\u2019s not my case.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOur paperwork says you are the coroner on this case, and we just need your permission to release the body.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo, are you sending me a death certificate; an autopsy report?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cUh, no. Those were sent to Washington. We just need your authorization to release the body.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCall Washington. I don\u2019t know anything about this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cUh, we did. They said to call you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Deep sigh. I thought of Ivan\u2019s smile and his slow steady gait. How he looked the graceful scarecrow under the dark pine canopy weaving through the brush and sticks. I thought how he would laugh at this silly joke. I wanted to be sitting on his porch in the afternoon sun, telling him this story, yelling him this story, repeating myself when he said \u201ceh?\u201d and finally getting tired of the whole tale, realizing it\u2019s not a short joke but a long one with nothing really to laugh at. But then we\u2019d just sit there and look at the sun on the hills from his old farmhouse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou have my permission to release the body.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n No death certificate filed.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sometimes how you get the call is an important part of the story. Sometimes, it\u2019s who calls you, sometimes it why they thought you needed to be called, sometimes it why you weren\u2019t called. All these little nuances to being … Continue reading