This is a wake up call.
August 21. Monday. 7:50 am cst.
"Come on, Skibby. Lets go potty! Come on!"
I open the front door to let out my best dog so he can take his morning pee next to the mailbox.
"Go potty, Skibs!"
I notice a car parked in front of my house. I immediately recognize it to be the car belonging to my neighbor's sister (well, christina and I presume it is her sister).
"SIR!" I hear coming from the neighbors in a tone of I can't believe you would let your dog out without a leash!.
"No, Skibs. Go potty! Go on!"
"Sir, can you help me?"
Oh man. I bet Frances fell. I better help out.
"Come Skibby, get inside! Go on! Get inside!"
I open the door and let Skibby into my house and go back out to the neighbors door (a few feet seperate my door from the neighbor's).
I hear some hysterical wailing which sounds like the same voice that had requested my help.
I open the door. I immediately notice a set of keys in the door lock. My body is heading toward the voice. It is just around the corner.
I continue to hear more wailing coming from the woman.
I pass the entrance hall and move toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, which makes a left.
I turn left and see the woman, Frances' alleged sister, the one wailing, in a fluster. She is losing her mind and the ability to say whatever it may be that she is thinking.
"Can you help me? Oh... Oh Frances... Can you help me? I think my sister is dead!"
My adrenaline had a rush once I opened the door and heard the clamor, but now that i have heard the phrase "...is dead" I begin to change into a new mindset.
"Let me cover her up. She is still in bed," the sister informs me.
"Sure."
I did not think Why me? nor did I think Holy Shit! Am I going to see a dead person?, all I thought of was to calm down this helpless, distraught sister.
"Okay" the sister says as she exits the bedroom, which gives me the signal to head into the bedroom. The sister turned around to lead me in.
I took a few steps toward the bedroom. The sister shook Frances a little. The body, in its entirety, moved. The sister howls and heads out.
Yep, Frances is dead.
By the looks of it, she has been dead for at least 4-8 hours.
It took me less than 2 seconds to asses this, and it was in that 2 seconds I took a picture that will not be forgetable.
Her head was cocked back, making the oddest expression. Her mouth was dropped open like a skeleton in a movie. Her facial expression was exactly that of the farmer whos body was taken over by the insect in Men In Black.
Her left leg hung over the side of her bed, foot sticking straight up.
Her left arm, from the mid-forearm down, hung off the bed.
Her eyes, were rolled back as her eye lids were slightly open.
The sister begins to howl, again. "Oh Frances... I don't know what to do. What do I do? Oh..."
I knew I would not be able to calm her, but I was going to try my hardest to ease her down.
"It will be okay. I will call for you."
"Oh!!" She wails. I rub her back as we are walking down the hall toward the kitchen and living room area.
"It will be okay. You are doing fine. I tell you what, how about I take you outside the front door so you can get a little air, and I will make a call."
I knew the only number I could call is 911 and tell them "My neighbor is dead. Can you come pick up the body and take her sister."
"I don't know who to call!" She tells me. "I don't know... ohh.... ohhh.. I ..."
"I know who to call. You just step outside and get some air. Just head out and I will wait outside after I make the call."
"Okay... ohhh... you can use the phone here. it is right over there."
"Okay. Thank you. I will call for you, just get some air, it will be okay."
I look around for the phone.
Wall: no
Kitchen counter: no
Wall again: no
other counter: no
in glass covered the cabinet?!: why the hell am i looking there
kitchen yable: ... yes.
The sister is outside crying.
I picked up the phone and dialed the 3-digit life-line.
The operator picks up quicker than it takes to hear a note when one hits a piano key.
"911......"
Honestly, now that time has slowed slightly for me, I can not remember what I told the operator. I just remember telling her that my neighbor is dead.
I also remember keeping my voice low as to not confirm the sister's horrific view.
The operator tells me she is going to connect me with somebody else and the sister enters the house and exits the house and enters the house still howling and crying.
The operator connects me to somebody else and I share the same information.
The sister sits in a chair in the living room a few feet in front of me.
The new operator, which at this point I think is actually a dispatcher, asks if I knew the phone number where I am calling from and the address.
I gave her the address, but I did not know the phone number as I am at the neighbors calling for the sister.
"How old is the woman in the bed?"
I ask the sister "How old isFrances?" No reply, just wailing.
"I'm not sure, in her 80's I would say."
"Okay. Is she breathing?"
"No"
"she is not concious?"
"correct"
"Is the body cold?"
great, now i get to touch her.
"I'm not sure, do you need me to verify?"
"yes."
"Okay, give me a second."
I get up and head down the hallway lined with the pretty blue rug and the oxygen line that Frances relied on. I tell the sister in the chair as I pass, "They are sending somebody over. There is an ambulance on the way."
"Who is sending somebody over?" the sister asks. Excellent question.
"The dispatcher. It will be okay. You are okay."
I get to the bedroom.
I go for the nearest body part, her leg sticking out.
I place my hand on her leg.
Oh yeah, she is cold alright.
I had to double check myself. I touched her wrist.
confirmed
Touching her dead body felt like touching a cold wall. Very cold and very stiff. There was no give in her skin.
I headed back to the phone passing the crying sister.
I pick up the receiver, "Yes."
She told me that somebody was on the way, I didn't really catch what she was saying over the woman in the next room.
"Do you want me to stay on the line until somebody arrives?"
"No, I am okay."
I tell the sister "They are on the way. How about we go outside and wait for them to arrive?"
"who is on the way?"
"the ambulance is coming."
she belts out another frantic wail, "ohhhh..."
I step outside in hopes that she will follow.
She does.
"I need my purse," the sister tells me. "Can you get my purse out of my car there?"
"sure. no problem."
She looks around as if lost.
"is that your keys in the door?" i ask.
"oh yes, that is what I am looking for."
She hands me the keys crying, "I don't know what to do."
"It is okay. Somebody will be here soon. How about I move your car so the ambulance can get in and than I will bring you the purse?"
"Okay. I need my purse."
"Okay, I will get it."
As I head toward the car, searching for the key to start her Plymouth Relient, I can hear sirens nearby.
I move her car and get the purse.
I head back to the house and she is still in the doorway.
"Thank you." she said.
"You are welcome. It is no problem."
"I'm going to call my sister." She manages to say clearer than anything else she has attempted to say so far.
"Okay. I will wait outside to flag down the ambulance."
Shortly after the first of two police vehicle arrives. I wave and point at the house and he gives me a thanking nod.
I head back into my door and tell christina what is happening.
I believe my words were, "I just found Frances dead."
Christina told me she already called work for me to tell them I was going to be late.
I stay inside a bit and hug Christina and the dogs. My body is still in adrenaline drive so I'm feeling anxious.
I headed down and watched the fire truck arrive and another police vehicle.
Soon after the ambulance came. I stayed out of the Frances' house and out of the way.
I watched two police officers struggle with the stetcher and disappear into the house.
I headed back inside and watched out the kitchen window.
The last image I have of Frances is not her hunched over in her chair outside as she is "catching some air" nor is it her at her door asking me if i "can check the fan to see if it is working" because she "can't hear if it is" and it is not even her lying in an akward position on her bed; unfortunately, the last image I have is her body covered on a stretcher, and her pale blue feet sticking out at the end, pointing straight up.
I said, slightly aloud, "Goodbye, Frances."
what a year
"Come on, Skibby. Lets go potty! Come on!"
I open the front door to let out my best dog so he can take his morning pee next to the mailbox.
"Go potty, Skibs!"
I notice a car parked in front of my house. I immediately recognize it to be the car belonging to my neighbor's sister (well, christina and I presume it is her sister).
"SIR!" I hear coming from the neighbors in a tone of I can't believe you would let your dog out without a leash!.
"No, Skibs. Go potty! Go on!"
"Sir, can you help me?"
Oh man. I bet Frances fell. I better help out.
"Come Skibby, get inside! Go on! Get inside!"
I open the door and let Skibby into my house and go back out to the neighbors door (a few feet seperate my door from the neighbor's).
I hear some hysterical wailing which sounds like the same voice that had requested my help.
I open the door. I immediately notice a set of keys in the door lock. My body is heading toward the voice. It is just around the corner.
I continue to hear more wailing coming from the woman.
I pass the entrance hall and move toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, which makes a left.
I turn left and see the woman, Frances' alleged sister, the one wailing, in a fluster. She is losing her mind and the ability to say whatever it may be that she is thinking.
"Can you help me? Oh... Oh Frances... Can you help me? I think my sister is dead!"
My adrenaline had a rush once I opened the door and heard the clamor, but now that i have heard the phrase "...is dead" I begin to change into a new mindset.
"Let me cover her up. She is still in bed," the sister informs me.
"Sure."
I did not think Why me? nor did I think Holy Shit! Am I going to see a dead person?, all I thought of was to calm down this helpless, distraught sister.
"Okay" the sister says as she exits the bedroom, which gives me the signal to head into the bedroom. The sister turned around to lead me in.
I took a few steps toward the bedroom. The sister shook Frances a little. The body, in its entirety, moved. The sister howls and heads out.
Yep, Frances is dead.
By the looks of it, she has been dead for at least 4-8 hours.
It took me less than 2 seconds to asses this, and it was in that 2 seconds I took a picture that will not be forgetable.
Her head was cocked back, making the oddest expression. Her mouth was dropped open like a skeleton in a movie. Her facial expression was exactly that of the farmer whos body was taken over by the insect in Men In Black.
Her left leg hung over the side of her bed, foot sticking straight up.
Her left arm, from the mid-forearm down, hung off the bed.
Her eyes, were rolled back as her eye lids were slightly open.
The sister begins to howl, again. "Oh Frances... I don't know what to do. What do I do? Oh..."
I knew I would not be able to calm her, but I was going to try my hardest to ease her down.
"It will be okay. I will call for you."
"Oh!!" She wails. I rub her back as we are walking down the hall toward the kitchen and living room area.
"It will be okay. You are doing fine. I tell you what, how about I take you outside the front door so you can get a little air, and I will make a call."
I knew the only number I could call is 911 and tell them "My neighbor is dead. Can you come pick up the body and take her sister."
"I don't know who to call!" She tells me. "I don't know... ohh.... ohhh.. I ..."
"I know who to call. You just step outside and get some air. Just head out and I will wait outside after I make the call."
"Okay... ohhh... you can use the phone here. it is right over there."
"Okay. Thank you. I will call for you, just get some air, it will be okay."
I look around for the phone.
Wall: no
Kitchen counter: no
Wall again: no
other counter: no
in glass covered the cabinet?!: why the hell am i looking there
kitchen yable: ... yes.
The sister is outside crying.
I picked up the phone and dialed the 3-digit life-line.
The operator picks up quicker than it takes to hear a note when one hits a piano key.
"911......"
Honestly, now that time has slowed slightly for me, I can not remember what I told the operator. I just remember telling her that my neighbor is dead.
I also remember keeping my voice low as to not confirm the sister's horrific view.
The operator tells me she is going to connect me with somebody else and the sister enters the house and exits the house and enters the house still howling and crying.
The operator connects me to somebody else and I share the same information.
The sister sits in a chair in the living room a few feet in front of me.
The new operator, which at this point I think is actually a dispatcher, asks if I knew the phone number where I am calling from and the address.
I gave her the address, but I did not know the phone number as I am at the neighbors calling for the sister.
"How old is the woman in the bed?"
I ask the sister "How old isFrances?" No reply, just wailing.
"I'm not sure, in her 80's I would say."
"Okay. Is she breathing?"
"No"
"she is not concious?"
"correct"
"Is the body cold?"
great, now i get to touch her.
"I'm not sure, do you need me to verify?"
"yes."
"Okay, give me a second."
I get up and head down the hallway lined with the pretty blue rug and the oxygen line that Frances relied on. I tell the sister in the chair as I pass, "They are sending somebody over. There is an ambulance on the way."
"Who is sending somebody over?" the sister asks. Excellent question.
"The dispatcher. It will be okay. You are okay."
I get to the bedroom.
I go for the nearest body part, her leg sticking out.
I place my hand on her leg.
Oh yeah, she is cold alright.
I had to double check myself. I touched her wrist.
confirmed
Touching her dead body felt like touching a cold wall. Very cold and very stiff. There was no give in her skin.
I headed back to the phone passing the crying sister.
I pick up the receiver, "Yes."
She told me that somebody was on the way, I didn't really catch what she was saying over the woman in the next room.
"Do you want me to stay on the line until somebody arrives?"
"No, I am okay."
I tell the sister "They are on the way. How about we go outside and wait for them to arrive?"
"who is on the way?"
"the ambulance is coming."
she belts out another frantic wail, "ohhhh..."
I step outside in hopes that she will follow.
She does.
"I need my purse," the sister tells me. "Can you get my purse out of my car there?"
"sure. no problem."
She looks around as if lost.
"is that your keys in the door?" i ask.
"oh yes, that is what I am looking for."
She hands me the keys crying, "I don't know what to do."
"It is okay. Somebody will be here soon. How about I move your car so the ambulance can get in and than I will bring you the purse?"
"Okay. I need my purse."
"Okay, I will get it."
As I head toward the car, searching for the key to start her Plymouth Relient, I can hear sirens nearby.
I move her car and get the purse.
I head back to the house and she is still in the doorway.
"Thank you." she said.
"You are welcome. It is no problem."
"I'm going to call my sister." She manages to say clearer than anything else she has attempted to say so far.
"Okay. I will wait outside to flag down the ambulance."
Shortly after the first of two police vehicle arrives. I wave and point at the house and he gives me a thanking nod.
I head back into my door and tell christina what is happening.
I believe my words were, "I just found Frances dead."
Christina told me she already called work for me to tell them I was going to be late.
I stay inside a bit and hug Christina and the dogs. My body is still in adrenaline drive so I'm feeling anxious.
I headed down and watched the fire truck arrive and another police vehicle.
Soon after the ambulance came. I stayed out of the Frances' house and out of the way.
I watched two police officers struggle with the stetcher and disappear into the house.
I headed back inside and watched out the kitchen window.
The last image I have of Frances is not her hunched over in her chair outside as she is "catching some air" nor is it her at her door asking me if i "can check the fan to see if it is working" because she "can't hear if it is" and it is not even her lying in an akward position on her bed; unfortunately, the last image I have is her body covered on a stretcher, and her pale blue feet sticking out at the end, pointing straight up.
I said, slightly aloud, "Goodbye, Frances."
what a year