Today’s Scorching Yet Truly Morbid Fact!
At Lissa’s recommendation, I am currently reading Never Suck a Dead Man’s Handby former CSI Dana Kollmann. Lissa said there were some doozies in this book and that ain’t a lie! I thought I’d share an excerpt from Dana’s very first crime scene investigation: a shotgun suicide where pieces of the victim’s brains were being flung about the room by a ceiling fan. Dana thought it wise to improvise a newspaper and plastic bag protective suit.
As I approached the sofa, the breeze from the ceiling fan rustled my newspaper bib and plastic scarf and I felt the splat of something land on my shoulder. I looked over long enough to see that it contained curly brown hair and had to look away and pretend it wasn’t there. I never envisioned the day when I’d be dressed in a hardhat and a Wal-Mart bag, walking around a stranger’s house with a hairy piece of a dead man’s scalp teetering on my shoulder. I felt another thump on my hardhat and wondered what little gem was now perched on the top of my head.
I moved in closer to the body. The sight was appalling. There was nothing left of the guy’s face or the top of his head. What did remain was caved in and completely disfigured. It was clear that he had either put the muzzle of the rifle under his chin or in his mouth. I don’t think you’re supposed to harbor any ill feelings about the dead, but this guy was a jerk for pulverizing his head knowing that it would be his kids who found him. They would never be the same. I didn’t even know him and I would never be the same. I took some close-up photographs of the weapon, the rifle bag, the ammunition, and the body. And then I cautiously moved around the sofa, knowing that the rifle was probably still loaded.
“Once finished with the photos, I handed George the camera. I called out a few quick measurements to him and with the fan still whirring above me, I slid the weapon out from beneath the rigor-laden arm of the headless dead guy. I unloaded it and handed the rifle and ammunition to George. Several of the cops as well as the sergeant watched intently from the kitchen. I felt like this was a test and I had passed. I was confident that I had proven that I knew what I was doing and that I could handle a gross scene as well as a loaded firearm – even if I was a lowly civilian and a scab to boot.
Just as the officer had told me, I found the switch for the ceiling fan haphazardly mounted on the floor behind the sofa. The whole contraption looked like a fire hazard. I kicked a chunk of hair and bone off the toggle and then turned it off with my boot.
Since this was clearly a suicide and the projectile had exited the body, the ME determined that an autopsy was not necessary. Shortly thereafter, two men dressed in dark suits arrived from the funeral home to recover the body. I thought it was odd that they were so formally dressed for such a dirty job. They donned their latex and started throwing the larger chunks of the guy’s head in plastic bags. Then they slid the dead guy into a body bag, strapped him to a gurney, and draped it with a piece of purple velvet.
‘Hey, come here!’ Officers had garnered the nerve to enter the living room and were looking under the sofa. ‘Wanna see something you don’t see every day?’ I was suspicious, but curious. ‘Shine your flashlight under there and take a look.’
I did as I was told and was horrified to see a big blue eyeball staring right back at me. As the guys from the funeral home bagged up the eye, I headed out of that little shop of horrors.
Culled from: Never Suck a Dead Man’s Hand
Garretdom: Practical Jokes, 1880’s Style!
December 6, 1886
A Fatal Practical Joke.
READING, Pa., Dec. 6.—Joseph Seaman, of this city, met a friend on the street today, who had a bottle, which he jokingly said contained old rye, and offered Seaman a drink. Seamon placed the bottle to his mouth, and before he could be stopped drank some of its contents, which proved to be ammonia. His stomach and intestines were so badly burned that he became unconscious at once. His injuries will prove fatal.
From the Collection of The Comtesse DeSpair
The 1886 Morbid Scrapbook
More bad olde news can be found at the Garretdom archive.