When the seeds of this story were planted in my mind months ago, I never imagined I would receive the financial and motivational support that I have and so before I delve into the real reason for this post, I want to extend a hearty thank you to everyone, including Spot.us, Anh Do and David Cohn for making the entire process of reporting on a very sad and grim topic enjoyable.
During the research process of "Unclaimed Kin in Los Angeles Piling Up," I came upon a documentary called "A Certain Kind of Death" that I would have probably never discovered were it not for a suggestion from a user on a message board revolving exclusively around people's fascination with death.
Directed by Grover Babcock and Blue Hadaegh, "A Certain Kind of Death" is not for the faint hearted. Its bleek look into the L.A County Coroner's office and the unclaimed men and women that end up there is very hard to swallow. The 69 minute documentary leaves no stone uncovered - from the actual bodies found, some decomposed so badly, you can almost smell them through your screen to the goings on of the mortuary, where the blood from the bodies trickles into the drains on the floor, before they're put in cardboard boxes and cremated in gigantic ovens where only dust and bones remain.
Two of the coroners investigators that I spoke to in my story - Joyce Kato and David Smith are featured in the film. As stark as it is, Babcock and Hadaegh manage to humanize a few of the people who remain unclaimed, piecing together their lives through photographs, details as well as personal belongings. Perhaps the most poignant and heart breaking story to come out of the documentary is that of Ronald Tanner, a man found in his apartment who essentially knew he was dying and laid out burial plot information and other important documents on a table before more or less bleeding to death. In many ways, the film allows you access to a forbidden and often not talked about segment of society, so much so that you think to yourself, "should I be watching this?"
If this phenomenon is something that interests you, I highly recommend the film, as it is essentially the visually representation of the story I've told and will stay with you for days after you've finished watching.
And a final note: an intriguing event will be taking place in June - the Genealogy Jamboree and Resource Expo put on by the Southern California Genealogical Society will feature exhibitors and speakers from national and local genealogical societies, including Megan Smolenyak, the founder of unclaimedpersons.org included in my story. The Jamboree will take place from June 11 to 13 at the Burbank Airport Marriott and Convention Center. 818-843-7247, scgsgenealogy.com
Posted by Liana Aghajanian on 06/01/10
"Death ends a life, not a relationship," American humorist Robert Benchley once said. I suppose he's right, because relationships die long before people do, at least in the case hundreds of unclaimed bodies cremated each year in Los Angeles.
There are some however, that are trying to breathe life into the relationships that perhaps decayed emotionally for years.
In just two years, unclaimedpersons.org has grown to a purely volunteer organization of 400 members working with coroners across the country, including the L.A. County Coroner to solve unclaimed body cases. Their tagline reads "every life is worth remembering."
To date, they've solved close to 150 cases and hope to solve many more.
Their involvement with coroners from California to Hawaii and Florida make it evident that the 'unclaimed body phenomenon' isn't just an L.A. thing. In counties all over the U.S. bodies are going unclaimed, mostly due to the strains the economy is putting on families who can't afford the costs involved in funerals or cremations.
Their only option is to wait - either they have funds or they don't. If they don't that means they get to be cremated, stored for two years and then buried in one common grave at the 'potters field' in the L.A. County Cemetery, in the heart of Los Angeles right by Evergreen Cemetery, the oldest in the city. The closest they come to any emotional connection to those still living is a private, non-denominational ceremony that is held at the end of every year.
I'll be heading down to potters field soon, so at least all those who truly got lost in the city of Angles will get one visitor.
With all the figures and procedures pretty much covered, there is something that has proved slightly challenging in this entire process, that is, trying to put faces behind the facts. On the one hand, there are privacy issues involved in obtaining intimate details and information about a person's life, on the other hand, it's a kind of morbid thing to ask people, especially next of kin to discuss. So here I am, in the middle of a rock and a hard place. The stories are out there, and I am actively doing what I can to pursue them in the short amount of time I have, but if you happen to be reading this and think you can help, please let me know.
Posted by Liana Aghajanian on 04/29/10
The Los Angeles County Coroner is housed in a 100-year-old building that's impossible to miss. With its brick red walls and sky high steps, it's as if you're stepping into another era when you arrive. The inside, with smooth burgundy colored couches and winding staircase, isn't any different.
Not many things shock me about L.A. anymore, but this building - and its inner workings were a sight to behold.
I met with Lt. David Smith, a coroner's investigator and spent almost 2 hours speaking with him about how bodies are handled, why so many remain unclaimed and how that is directly affecting operations at the L.A. County Coroners.
I left with significant numbers, and interesting angles that I had never even thought about before. For example, the Coroner regularly uses the DMV to match finger prints in order to identify people, however because of the poor quality of fingerprinting at the DMV, matching up the prints becomes close to useless.
i also learned about the financial strain the cremating of unclaimed bodies has left on the Coroner, after the L.A. County Morgue, who was taking care of the cremation, said they couldn't handle the influx anymore. The Coroner has had to hire private contractors to carry out the job, which has taken money from a virtually non existent budget.
(Interesting side note: most crematories cannot handle bodies over 300 lbs because of the fire hazard involved.)
After a morning at the Coroner's office, I left with more interest in this story than ever. There was so much more to discover and unravel, and although I had gotten facts, numbers and statistics, I was (and still am) chasing the human story, which seems difficult to find.
Because of confidentiality of records, it's difficult to get information on specific people who remain unclaimed or those still living that have had experience with locating next of kin. After putting out a call on Help a Reporter Out (HARO), I've made plans for a Craigslist ad asking for sources and I willbe doing my best with the social networking tools at my disposal to see if I can make a few connections.
I also had a brief conversation with unclaimedpersons.org, a volunteer organization of geneologists who helps various coroners locate next of kin. It was enlightening to say the least, and I hope to have more on that soon, but for now, off I go to find a few faces behind the facts.
Posted by Liana Aghajanian on 04/26/10For as long as I can remember, I have always been interested in criminal scene investigation and prison documentaries. I’ve tried to curb this slightly morbid curiosity numerous times and while I might have succeeded in another lifetime, my chosen career path as a journalist never allowed me to just turn the channel off.
There I was one Saturday afternoon in late fall, watching a program about the Los Angeles County Coroner and the difficult, draining job investigators were charged with. As I sat with my laptop and a bowl of popcorn in front of me, feeling so pleased that I stumbled onto television gold, I wandered over to the L.A. County Coroner’s website.
After poking around for a bit and even finding a gift shop, I happened to land on a page that had a database of unclaimed bodies listed.
How strange, I thought. Over 4,000 people from all ages and walks of life had been reduced to a file number, with physical descriptions, along with when they entered this Earth and when they left it.
Yes, Los Angeles is vast and populated. In fact, I heard someone once refer to it as “72 suburbs in search of a city,” but I couldn’t understand why so many people who had died were left, well, for dead.
My leisurely Saturday documentary had to wait.
I began furiously researching how and why this could have happened. I even called the coroner and set up a phone interview before I ever even thought about pitching my idea on Spot.us. After a half hour conversation and the discovery of unclaimedpersons.org, I knew I had found a story to tell.
Having grown up in Los Angeles, it became a matter of personal importance to me. Say what you will about this concrete jungle, I’ve heard it all, but the fact that people had come here in search of fame, fortune or even simply just a better life, had died and been left to became a nameless, faceless notch in a database was concerning
The questions began popping up in my head faster than I could process them. Although I was told that some people might not want to be found, I knew it had to be more than that. And so, “Unclaimed Kin Piling Up in Los Angeles” was born.
I am honored to be working on telling a unique story about those who can no longer tell it themselves on Spot.us. In the coming weeks, I hope to update this space with news about who I speak to, what I find and my journey throughout this innovative process.
