As a Federal Agent, I am called upon to observe autopsies from time to time. This is never as pleasant as it looks on TV, and many times the odor is strong enough to knock you down. There are only a few tricks that I know of to over-come this revolting stench. Some people take Dramamine an hour or so before they meet with the Pathologist, others wear a surgical mask with Vick’s Vapor Rub smeared around the inside. I drink Mountain Dew on an empty stomach, it’s not the greatest solution but it has always worked for me.
Just the other day I was introduced to a young man named Frank, he was in training to become a Probationary Investigator, in hopes of one day becoming a full-fledged US Agent. We call these promising trainees “PPZ’s” (Pre-Probationary Zits). About 95% of the PPZ’s never become Agents, but they are always helpful in there own way and many times they show Agents how to look at things from a different point of view. Many times I have gained great insight from the PPZ’s assigned to me. Many of them go on to become very well trained, level-headed Law-Enforcement Officers. Most of the time a PPZ is a great asset, unless of course the PPZ is arrogant, ignorant, and belligerent… like Frank.
Frank is one of those guys who truly believes himself to be the resident expert on any topic discussed and the quintessential life-coach who has personally experienced (to a much greater degree), any amazing event that has ever occurred to anyone else in the world. In short, Frank knows more, has seen more, has been more places, has done more things, and has handled it all much better than anyone else in the room, no matter who else happens to be in the room. That’s Frank.
Frank was assigned to me and my job was simple, open his eyes to the reality of real-world Federal Law-Enforcement. I began by quizzing him about what he expected to see in the next few weeks and what he nervous about. By the end of my first day with him, it was obvious to me that I had nothing to teach Frank. He had already experienced all the scary stories, bloody crime scenes, vicious criminals minds, exhilarating pursuits, and bitter victimization’s, which typically amaze the heck out of any other normal person. Apparently Frank at the ripe old age of 22, had already “lived deep and sucked out all the marrow of life” (Thoreau). Frank claimed to have flown a helicopter when the pilot passed-out, fought in the jungles of Panama (the time frame would have made him about 14 when the battle occurred), witnessed shootings, broke up drug deals, subdued gang members, and thwarted child abductions. Oddly enough, Frank openly admitted that he had never actually watched an autopsy, but he was pretty sure it was “about the same as gutting a deer”….with that in mind, I arranged an autopsy for the next morning.
The poor victim was found locked up in a car, parked in an empty field for almost a week. The body had been decomposing for quite a while before it was discovered and the hot summer sun had really taken a toll on the remains. This was a great opportunity for me to teach Frank a real life-lesson. Perhaps his first memorable lesson since childhood.
The next morning I picked-up Frank at the office and headed-off to a local restaurant. “Breakfast is on me”, I said “order whatever you like, I love their eggs, I normally eat two or three of them when I come here, they are great”. I was baiting him, of course… and it worked wonderfully. Frank had four eggs, plenty of sausage and two cups of coffee. I ordered a Mountain Dew and tried to read over the preliminary reports.
The Pathologist played his part even better than I. As we walked towards the body-bag on the table, the Pathologist casually talked about his own breakfast. Runny eggs and greasy bacon, were the topic of conversation when he unzipped the bag. The putrid, arid stench saturated the air, I took a deep breath, rolled my eyes and reached for my Mountain Dew. Frank immediately fell to his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the white tile floor. He slowly crawled to the exit.. fluid dripping from his face and neck.. dragging his hands and knees through the mess he had just created. He reached up for the handle just as the young brunet entered the room and began to laugh. She cackled out loud before she could stop herself. She didn’t mean to humiliate him but it was already too late, the damage was done, and Frank would remember her expression for years to come.
Two hours later the exam was over and I went looking for Frank. He was in a bathroom down the hall, half-dressed and still washing his clothes in the sink. Apparently it took him over an hour to recover from the emotional experience and another 30 minutes before he could find the strength to stand-up in front of the mirror. Frank was almost mute the rest of the week, but later-on he became a very well rounded investigator.
Looking back at the whole experience, an ancient Buddhist Proverb comes to mind: “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear”.
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