fairybasslet
Contributor
My mom and he were divorced but remained close friends and called each other every day to check up on each other. She called him on the evening of 9/11 and he didn't answer, which is kind of unusual for him. But she didn't think about it too much thinking he may have just shut his phone off.
But every morning at 7:45, either he would call her or she would call him. They would alternate days. On Wednesday, 9/12, it was his turn and he didn't call her. She called him a few times but there wasn't any answer. She called me at work and asked if she should call the management office of the complex where he lives and I said yes. She called at around 8:30. They said they would send someone over to check and call back but they never did. My mom called them a few times and they kept saying that someone went over to check but didn't have an answer. Finally I called the police in the town where he lives at around 10:30 and they said they would check and call me back. 45 minutes later, still no call so I call back again and they said a supervisor would call me. Finally around 12 noon, my son calls me from home.
He didn't have a class at the time and was home when the police from our town came and told him that my dad was dead. I just lost it completely in the office, crying hysterically. I called my mom back (she was still at work too) and told her. I called the police back and the detective investigating said he was sorry for the delay but they don't like to notify people over the phone. So I'm wondering, if my son wasn't home at the time, when were we going to find out?
The detective wanted to know what we wanted to do with the body, but I had all the information at home (I was still at work during all this). So I had to go home and get it and call the detective back.
My dad's wish was to have his body donated to the College of Medicine and Dentistry here in NJ. The detective didn't know how to do that and had to call the Medical Examiner to find out how to do that. The detective called me back and tells me I have to come to the police station first to fill out some forms so that the College can collect his body. So I picked up my mom at home and then get on the road to to my dad's town, about 1 1/2 hours away.
When we got to the police station, the guy at the desk said he would tell the detective we were there but he didn't so we waited about an hour for him. And all I'm thinking about is my dad lying dead in his apartment. Finally another officer came in and asked who we were and he got the detective for us. The detective was so apologetic that we had to wait so long. He gave me the forms to fill out, he faxed them to the college and told me that it looked like my dad died very fast and without any pain. He said he looked very peaceful. Then my mom and I went to my dad's place and waited outside for the funeral home that deals with the college to come and get his body. The police didn't want to let us in because he was still on the floor where he had fallen. The cop outside was really nice and we talked to him for a while. Except for the jerk at the front desk, the police dept. was very supportive and polite and accommodating.
Finally after about an hour the funeral people came. They had to use a portable stretcher because there are no elevators where my dad lives and he lives on the 3rd floor. They put him in a body bag with just his face out so I could say goodbye. I have never been so close to someone who died before the embalmers and make-up artists take over. So I kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye.
From what we could tell, he probably died at around 12 noon on 9/11. He was just having lunch (he made himself a sandwich and hadn't taken a bite yet) and had the newspaper out to read. He must have had a massive heart attack. They aren't doing an autopsy because it looked to the ME like natural causes and the detective said there was no sign of foul play.
He would have been 84 on Sept. 13th. He didn't even get our birthday cards. They were all still in the mailbox. I had just spoken to him Monday night. We had become a lot closer the past couple of years, even more so the last few months when he got his computer. I was his tech support. He used to email me and call me all of the time asking for help. I was really proud of him because he had never used a computer before in his life, and at 83, he decided to give it a try.
My son, my mom, my brother and I have been cleaning out his place these last few days. My brother said that my dad said to him a couple of week ago "I have a lot of stuff so please don't be mad at me when you have to clean the place out." I just laughed when my brother said that. That's my dad. His apartment is very neat but he had old car insurance policies from 1994!!
The police commented that it was the neatest apartment that they've ever been in and they have been in a lot of them.
I returned one of his books to the library today, where he had a lot of friends. I went to the woman at the desk and told her I was returning a book and the library card of my dad who had died. Then, as I'm walking away, she called out to me "Your father was Milton???!!" And she came after me and hugged me and started crying. Then she took me to the library director who was such good friends with him. She told me so many stories about him. Everyone was coming up to me saying how sorry they were. They even knew his library card number by heart. Milton: 334.
My brother found a car repair bill from a guy who did all kinds of work on my dad's old clunker and never charged him. My brother called the guy and asked him if he wanted the car. So we gave the car to the mechanic. I think my dad would have liked that. We also gave him a TV and a really nice new microwave. I'm glad we could repay the kindness that he showed my dad in some small way.
Since he's not having a funeral because the medical school needs the body before it starts to decompose and you can't donate your body if you've been embalmed, I had to write the obituary myself. I emailed it to the newspaper and then they had to call the Robert Wood Johnson Medical School to verify the death because usually, when funeral homes call in, they know it's legit. Why someone would lie about someone dying is kind of weird but who knows why people do what they do? So the paper called me today to arrange payment and told me the number I had given them was for some cigar place. Luckily, they were good "investigative reporters" and got the right number and confirmed everything. When I checked the email I had sent against the number on the paper work, I saw that I had gotten 2 numbers mixed up. My dad would have thought that was funny.
Anyway, bless you if you have read this far. Losing my husband almost 6 years ago was hard. Losing my dad, well, it's a whole different feeling. I sure am gonna miss you Daddy. Love you.
But every morning at 7:45, either he would call her or she would call him. They would alternate days. On Wednesday, 9/12, it was his turn and he didn't call her. She called him a few times but there wasn't any answer. She called me at work and asked if she should call the management office of the complex where he lives and I said yes. She called at around 8:30. They said they would send someone over to check and call back but they never did. My mom called them a few times and they kept saying that someone went over to check but didn't have an answer. Finally I called the police in the town where he lives at around 10:30 and they said they would check and call me back. 45 minutes later, still no call so I call back again and they said a supervisor would call me. Finally around 12 noon, my son calls me from home.
He didn't have a class at the time and was home when the police from our town came and told him that my dad was dead. I just lost it completely in the office, crying hysterically. I called my mom back (she was still at work too) and told her. I called the police back and the detective investigating said he was sorry for the delay but they don't like to notify people over the phone. So I'm wondering, if my son wasn't home at the time, when were we going to find out?
The detective wanted to know what we wanted to do with the body, but I had all the information at home (I was still at work during all this). So I had to go home and get it and call the detective back.
My dad's wish was to have his body donated to the College of Medicine and Dentistry here in NJ. The detective didn't know how to do that and had to call the Medical Examiner to find out how to do that. The detective called me back and tells me I have to come to the police station first to fill out some forms so that the College can collect his body. So I picked up my mom at home and then get on the road to to my dad's town, about 1 1/2 hours away.
When we got to the police station, the guy at the desk said he would tell the detective we were there but he didn't so we waited about an hour for him. And all I'm thinking about is my dad lying dead in his apartment. Finally another officer came in and asked who we were and he got the detective for us. The detective was so apologetic that we had to wait so long. He gave me the forms to fill out, he faxed them to the college and told me that it looked like my dad died very fast and without any pain. He said he looked very peaceful. Then my mom and I went to my dad's place and waited outside for the funeral home that deals with the college to come and get his body. The police didn't want to let us in because he was still on the floor where he had fallen. The cop outside was really nice and we talked to him for a while. Except for the jerk at the front desk, the police dept. was very supportive and polite and accommodating.
Finally after about an hour the funeral people came. They had to use a portable stretcher because there are no elevators where my dad lives and he lives on the 3rd floor. They put him in a body bag with just his face out so I could say goodbye. I have never been so close to someone who died before the embalmers and make-up artists take over. So I kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye.
From what we could tell, he probably died at around 12 noon on 9/11. He was just having lunch (he made himself a sandwich and hadn't taken a bite yet) and had the newspaper out to read. He must have had a massive heart attack. They aren't doing an autopsy because it looked to the ME like natural causes and the detective said there was no sign of foul play.
He would have been 84 on Sept. 13th. He didn't even get our birthday cards. They were all still in the mailbox. I had just spoken to him Monday night. We had become a lot closer the past couple of years, even more so the last few months when he got his computer. I was his tech support. He used to email me and call me all of the time asking for help. I was really proud of him because he had never used a computer before in his life, and at 83, he decided to give it a try.
My son, my mom, my brother and I have been cleaning out his place these last few days. My brother said that my dad said to him a couple of week ago "I have a lot of stuff so please don't be mad at me when you have to clean the place out." I just laughed when my brother said that. That's my dad. His apartment is very neat but he had old car insurance policies from 1994!!
The police commented that it was the neatest apartment that they've ever been in and they have been in a lot of them.I returned one of his books to the library today, where he had a lot of friends. I went to the woman at the desk and told her I was returning a book and the library card of my dad who had died. Then, as I'm walking away, she called out to me "Your father was Milton???!!" And she came after me and hugged me and started crying. Then she took me to the library director who was such good friends with him. She told me so many stories about him. Everyone was coming up to me saying how sorry they were. They even knew his library card number by heart. Milton: 334.
My brother found a car repair bill from a guy who did all kinds of work on my dad's old clunker and never charged him. My brother called the guy and asked him if he wanted the car. So we gave the car to the mechanic. I think my dad would have liked that. We also gave him a TV and a really nice new microwave. I'm glad we could repay the kindness that he showed my dad in some small way.
Since he's not having a funeral because the medical school needs the body before it starts to decompose and you can't donate your body if you've been embalmed, I had to write the obituary myself. I emailed it to the newspaper and then they had to call the Robert Wood Johnson Medical School to verify the death because usually, when funeral homes call in, they know it's legit. Why someone would lie about someone dying is kind of weird but who knows why people do what they do? So the paper called me today to arrange payment and told me the number I had given them was for some cigar place.
Luckily, they were good "investigative reporters" and got the right number and confirmed everything. When I checked the email I had sent against the number on the paper work, I saw that I had gotten 2 numbers mixed up. My dad would have thought that was funny.Anyway, bless you if you have read this far. Losing my husband almost 6 years ago was hard. Losing my dad, well, it's a whole different feeling. I sure am gonna miss you Daddy. Love you.
