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James Hamilton, M. D.
Appalachia: No Joy in Mudville Tonight
It was a dark and stormy night.
In fact, it really was. Of course, unless one lives in the far north during the summer, all nights are pretty dark. But on this March night in 1972 the rain and snow mix seemed to make it darker and caused the dirt roads in Meigs County to be quite muddy.
As the County Coroner Doc Pickens got the call at about 1 AM, notified me and I met him at his office/home. He drove us out "in the country" and down one of those muddy roads to a small cabin in front of which was an emergency vehicle. Inside were two EMT's (I doubt there were paramedics in Meigs County at that time) who were doing CPR on an obviously dead, blue, newborn infant. Concerned parents hovered closely around the scene. Doc checked the child and established the fact that the boy was deceased. The EMT's had done their best and, with the doctor's permission, CPR was discontinued.
Taking me aside Doc whispered that the child would need an autopsy. He stated that in some cases these poor families may take drastic measures when they can't afford another mouth to feed and, well, kill the baby. Doc knew his limits as coroner and this case needed an experienced pathologist to make that determination. He asked that I drive the body up to OSU Hospital and arrange the autopsy. I answered that I would do that first thing in the morning. He responded, "No, I mean do it tonight, Jim."
We placed the infant's small body in a plasic bag and went back to his office where Doc's wife, Mary, was waiting. Mary was a Catholic and when she saw the the lifeless child she asked me if we should baptize the boy. We had no idea of what the parent's religious beliefs were but after a short discussion we did proceed to pour water over the child's head and say the words of baptism. We reasoned that it could not hurt and it felt right. Doc tossed me the keys to his Cadillac insisting that I take his car instead of my old Ford.
With the nameless child in the trunk of the Caddy I headed out for the 2 hour or so drive to Columbus. About 30 minutes into the journey I started thinking about that drive along the Ohio River when I was stopped by the officer (see post #3022). I was now out of Meigs County and out of Doc's domain. There I was, a young city boy driving someone else's Cadillac of which I had no registration, in Appalachia, in the middle of the night, with a dead baby in a plastic bag in the trunk. I slowed down, took an extra hour to get to the University and did not cross any yellow lines.
I arrived at the Pathology Department about 6 AM and talked with the pathologist who was quite accommodating, said he would conduct the autopsy and release the body to me later that afternoon with the report.
He notified me about 5 or 6 PM so I picked up the remains and drove back to Pomeroy. The conclusion was that the infant was indeed stillborn and there was no evidence of foul play.
When I arrived back at the office Mary informed me that Doc was at a gathering in Parkersburg and wanted me to join him. I took the Caddy, headed across the river and joined the party. I isolated Doc and gave him the news. He thanked me and said "I suppose you dropped off the body at the funeral home." (there was only one in town). I responded with a slight laugh "Of couse, you wouldn't expect me to have left him in the trunk now, would you?".
Unnoticed, I slipped out the back door, returned to Pomeroy, found the funeral parlor, surrendered the baby to the mortuary personnel and returned to Parkersburg before anyone had missed me.
Case closed.
Jim.
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