Have you ever wondered what happens to people who die that don’t have any family to handle their affairs? It happens more than you think. So much so that there is a government office to handle such situations. I know because I worked for this office for 30 years before retiring. I have handled more than my share of bizarre situations decedents find themselves in. I think they are interesting enough to be shared. I’m wanting to tell these stories but am not an author so please be forgiving of my amateurish writing.  I believe we all have a story to tell and this just happens to be one of mine. That being said, let me start off by introducing:

Mr. Oldenburg

By all accounts he was a very cantankerous, old son of a gun. All his neighbors avoided him when he was out in his yard for fear of being scolded by him for something Mr. Oldenburg perceived as being offensive. He would scream words at his neighbors that they didn’t understand because they were usually a mixture of German and broken English. He had a permanent frown frozen upon his face.

Mr. Oldenburg’s small, tidy ranch home was situated in an old neighborhood known for its German immigrants. He would shuffle around his property flinging debris off his yard and into the street, the whole time glaring at anyone around. One day his neighbor Steve tried to be friendly when he saw Mr. Oldenburg reach out of his front door to grab the mail.

“Hello Mr. Oldenburg. How are you today?”

“Und vut is it to you?” was his response.

Steve just shook his head and walked away. Mr. Oldenburg grabbed the small amount of mail and slammed the door behind him as he re-entered his home. He was mumbling something sarcastic to himself as he settled himself into his favorite recliner in the bedroom off the kitchen that he used as a TV room. As he was going through his mail he suddenly frowned for the last time before silently and expectantly dying in that comfortable recliner he loved so much. He appeared as though he were napping with his head tilted to one side like it was. There he sat while the days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months and months into years. Yes years.

Downtown in a government building the county is auctioning off several homes that have years of unpaid real estate taxes. The room is full of people bidding. The auctioneer slams his gavel down on the podium.

“Sold to the man with the red shirt. Good luck to you sir. Hope it works out well for you. It appears to be a nice little bungalow you bought yourself. The next property up for auction will be…..”

The man in the red shirt’s name is Hector. He and his business partner always attend these auctions. They bought the house sight unseen as they do frequently. Risky but hey, comes with the job. They make their living off flipping them. Hector turns to his partner.

“Let’s settle up here then we’ll go have a look at what we just bought.”

Hector and his partner arrive at the small, tidy ranch home. They have tools and a new lock with them to gain entry to the residence since no keys were available.

“This is always the exciting part for me. Never knowing what to expect. Shall we?” says Hector as he finally gains access.

Hector and his partner move from room to room observing the mildew damage and buckled floors.

“This will all have to be gutted. The water pipes must have burst. Dreading to see what the basement is like.”

As his partner rummages through a closet, Hector enters a room off the kitchen and freezes.

“Holy shit!”

Yep. That’s when Mr. Oldenburg’s corpse was discovered. Or I should say his skeletal remains. There he was waiting to be discovered. On the floor all around the recliner was a mountain of dead flies and maggots that ate at his rotting flesh over the years.

Later that day emergency officials and vehicles are everywhere as Hector and his partner talk to a police officer. A stretcher on which a body bag containing Mr. Oldenburg’s remains are wheeled out and into a waiting paddy wagon. Neighbors including Steve are standing around watching all the commotion. The officer with Hector tells him the Medical Examiner will be sealing the premises.

“But where does that leave me? We just bought this house today! How do I get out of this!”

“Since the decedent don’t appear to have no known family at this time, there’s a county office that handles these types of situations.”

“What’s the name of the office? How do I get ahold of them?”

The officer looks over his shoulder.

“Hey Sarge. What’s the name of that county office that comes out and grabs everything when there ain’t no family? You know, the money grabbers?”

“The money grabbers? You thinking of the Public Administrator’s Office?”

“Yeah that’s the one. Thanks, Sarge.”

The officer turns back to Hector.

“They’re the ones you’ll need to get ahold of.”

Hector with a strained look on his face asks

“The public administrator who? What’s that?”

My name is Phil. My old friends call me Phooda. It’s not a name I chose but one given to me by them. Long story. Anyhow I was an investigator for the Public Administrators Office of Cook County in Chicago. The office is located downtown on an upper floor of the county building. The Public Administrator handles people’s affairs who die in Cook County without having any known family or will. Intestate is the word to describe this situation. We try to get the person buried using their own assets if they have any. The office employs about 20 full time people. Every county with a population of more than 1 million people must have a Public Administrator. The office procedures and the decedents deaths I’ll be describing are all accurate. However,  I fictionalized the people who work there, the decedent’s names and the people I’ve met on the job. More information later. Let’s get back to Mr. Oldenburg’s story.

One morning I’m sitting at my desk while the other investigators are at theirs. Malika is eating her breakfast. Ben is working on his computer. Victor is going through papers on his desk and I’m reading the paper drinking coffee. There is a fifth desk that remains unoccupied because the investigator who occupied it retired.

It was pretty much a typical morning. Once the switchboard opens some of our phones start ringing. I answer mine.

“Public Administrator’s Office. May I help you?”

I grab a pad of paper and start writing while the voice on the other end starts rattling on about a situation he found himself in and how the police referred him to this office.

I continue, “Excuse me but I’m going to need some information first please.  Decedents address?… Date of death?”

As Hector tries to explain the date of death I look up with a bewildered look on my face. Nobody notices. I continue collecting all necessary info from Hector.

“Ok Hector. Let me look into this some more. I’ll check with the police. If you don’t hear back from me, I’ll just meet you tomorrow out there…. Ok…. Thanks Hector…. Ok…. Thanks…. Yes, I’ll see you then. No, it’s not a problem…. Bye”

I look up at my coworkers after hanging up with Hector.

“You’re not going to believe this one. This guy I was just talking to buys a house sight unseen at a county auction due to unpaid property taxes. Once he enters the place, he finds skeletal remains sitting in a recliner.”

“You kidding me?” Malika asks.

We all agree the remains were obviously the owner’s and the purchase transaction by Hector would be voided. I asked Victor to accompany me on this investigation. I told him the man reporting the case (Hector) did not want to re-enter the premises again but will meet us out front to turn over any paperwork he has pertaining to the purchase of the property. I told Vic that we need to get there early so we could knock on some neighbors’ doors to inquire about any info they may have on the decedent. I checked with the police and they were finished with the premises and had no inventory turned in. They also verified that no family information was on their report. Sounds like one for us to handle.

Vic and I pull up in front of Mr. Oldenburg’s house (The county does not furnish us with a car, so we need to use our own. They do reimburse for mileage and give us monthly parking passes at a downtown garage).  I ask Vic to go knock on the neighbor’s door to the right and I’ll talk to the neighbor on the left who was out in his yard fussing around with some bushes. As I approach the man, I have my badge and ID out to show him.

“Good morning. My name is Phil and I’m from the Public Administrator’s Office of Cook County. May I ask you some questions about your neighbor Mr. Oldenburg?”

After we introduce ourselves, he says “Isn’t that something? The guy was sitting there dead in his home for all those years and none of us around here even noticed.”

I asked Steve how it went unnoticed for so long. He said he and the neighbors assumed that he moved back to Germany. “The yard is so small it takes nothing to mow it while I’m doing my own. Eventually the mail stopped being delivered too. He never spoke to me. Rather a grouchy old guy. What’s going to happen now?”

“We need to enter the premises and look through his papers to see what we can find out about him. Do you have time available to accompany us?”

“What do you need me in there for?”

“We need someone present as a witness.”

Just then a car pulls up and Hector gets out holding a large manila envelope. He looks at me “You from the Public Administrator?” I approach him, and we introduce each other. He asks some questions, he hands me the envelope then we tell each other good luck and he leaves. I call to Victor to come back. He wasn’t having any luck getting people to answer their door. He mentioned in his broken English that while knocking on the door of the first house to the right, it smelled like there was a dead animal under the porch. Steve mentioned that it was probably a dead stray cat and most people in the area aren’t home because they’re working.

The three of us enter Mr. Oldenburg’s house. Steve reluctantly. “It sure smells like Hell in here. Mold or something. Would you look at all this damage? I’ve never seen a floor buckle like that. Where did they find him?”

“Hector said he found the remains in a room off the kitchen.”

We all head in that direction. Once inside the room Vic continues taking pictures with the county provided camera. We all observe the mound of dead flies and the blood-stained recliner. On the wall is a several years old calendar depicting scenes from Germany. Vic and I start going through the papers neatly tucked away inside drawers and cabinets. I find some dated letters from someone in Germany with the same last name. Vic said he found some bank statements with sizable balances. His income tax returns are the next thing we find.

After observing us for a while, Steve had to ask. “So, what is it you guys are looking for?”

“To see if he has a will or any family information (as I wave the letters). We basically need to determine what his assets are and use them to bury him.”

“What if it turns out that those folks in Germany are dead too? Who gets everything?”

“If there’s no family then all the assets any decedent has are converted into cash. If any family materializes later then they get it but it has to be according to the mandate of the law. Of course, they’ll have to prove their relationship first before getting anything.”

“Yeah? How do they do that? I can’t just say that this here Oldenburg is a long-lost uncle of mine?”

“No that won’t work. There are heirship forms that need to be filled out. Nice try though.”

Everyone laughs.

Steve apologizes for being nosy and asking too many questions. I reassure him most people ask the same ones. Very common.

During all this conversation, we’re walking from room to room looking in drawers, cabinets and closets setting aside papers and documents.

“If nobody shows up then the cash from the estate sits with the County for so many years before it’s eventually turned over to the State. Matter of fact, the Public Administrator’s Office is the only county office to generate a profit. How’s that for your tax dollars at work?”

“Wow. Interesting. Who would have thought. Once I get home, I’m gonna get all my affairs in order.” Steve says.

“What? You don’t want me and Vic showing up at your house after you die and go through all of your drawers?”

“No thank you guys. As nice as you are and all.”

Vic opens a closet door and starts patting down the coats hanging in there.

“I swear to God Vic, an investigation would not be complete without you patting down all those clothes. You must have found some valuables one time that way.”

“I have. You never know where people hide their stuff.’ Leave no rock turning’ I say.”

“That’s ‘unturned’ Vic, not ‘turning.’ The saying goes ‘Leave no rock unturned.”

“Ooops.”

“That’s ok. Vic. Your English is still better than my Greek.”

Vic closes the closet door satisfied nothing of value is in there. He says he’ll look in the basement. Steve and I head out to the detached garage. I bring some keys I found on the kitchen counter and found the one that opens the garage door. “Open sesame!”  Steve chuckles. Hardly anything in there but some yard tools and an old Chevy covered in dust with four flat tires and an engine that won’t start. I photo it, write down the plate number and mileage on my work sheet then we head back into the house.

Vic comes up the stairs shaking his head while holding his flashlight. “Pretty bad down there. Water everywhere.”

Vic and I pretty much found all we needed and prepared to leave.

“Well Steve, we’re about finished here for now. Thanks for your time.”

We all exit the house. I lock the door then place our seal on it where the Medical Examiner’s seal had been earlier before I removed it. The Public Administrator’s Investigators have the authority to remove the Medical Examiner’s seals without fear of punishment. Our seal says, “Anyone entering these premises without proper authorization from the Public Administrator’s Office will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.” The Medical Examiner’s seal says something similar. I ask Vic to place our seals on the back door and garage while I finish with Steve.

“If someone wants to get in, they’re gonna get in. A piece of paper isn’t going to stop them.”

“It would keep me out” Steve responds.

“If you see someone suspicious trying to get in please call the police. Our property manager will be sending his guys out to maintain the premises. Cutting grass and probably drain the water from the basement.”

“Good, I won’t mow it anymore then. Will you be needing me for anything else?”

“Not right now although I’ll need you to sign my worksheet saying you were present while we were in there.”

“Does this make me responsible for anything if I sign? Do I get a copy?” He asks as he signs.

“We don’t give copies. It’s just a record for the office in case somebody questions anything. You’re pretty much vouching for what we removed. In this case just miscellaneous papers.”

“Will you keep me updated on this?” Steve asks.

I respond “If you don’t mind why don’t you call me in a week or so if you want. By then we may have some more information. Here’s my card.”

“Thanks. I probably won’t. Just can’t believe this happened right next door to me.”

I’m usually always the first person in the office each morning. I turn the lights on and start the coffee. One day on my way to the kitchenette to make coffee, I noticed an open condom wrapper on the floor. I smiled but left the wrapper where it was. While I’m back at my desk reading the paper and drinking coffee, Vic comes in “Good morning” and settles at his desk. He grabs his coffee mug and proceeds towards the kitchenette. I tell him to be sure to notice what’s sitting on the floor in there. He returns a few minutes later smiling.

“Somebody getting some action after the office is closed?”

“Burning the midnight oil? Probably a housekeeper hooking up with a security guard. You didn’t throw it away did you? I want all the ladies in the office to have something to gossip about.”

We both laugh.

In time all we investigators are at our desks. Ben asks how the investigation went at Mr. Oldenburg’s the day before. Malika stops what she’s doing to hear what the response will be. Vic says he’ll go print the pictures so they can get an idea. I tell Ben and Malika the house was surprisingly typical except for the buckled floor. I took out the foreign correspondence from the large envelope containing the papers removed from the premises. I mentioned he may have family in Germany. Malika said she’ll need the information to turn over to the German Consulate in Chicago. There is a woman who works there that wants to be notified by us whenever German Nationals die with no family. The woman is always willing to translate German correspondence and even try contacting the people. Malika asked if she could look through the papers to prepare herself before she contacts the consulate.

Malika is the office investigator. That means she does not go out on investigations. She mostly takes in new cases when the rest of us are out in the “field.” She’ll send letters to banks or other financial institutions that the decedents were affiliated with. These letters request that the decedents date of death balance and co-owners on the account be released to us. Most banks are familiar with our procedure and will release the information. Most banks that is. Some request a death certificate or Letters of Office before releasing such information. The problem with getting a death certificate however is that it’s not filled out completely until the decedent is buried. The burial or disposition of the body needs to be on the death certificate. The funeral director fills in that part. The decedents we are handling however are not buried but in the morgue waiting to be buried. This is definitely a “catch 22” situation. With HIPPA laws the way they are, it makes getting any information very difficult. More on this later.

Malika wants to know about the furnishings, car or anything of value. I tell her the furnishings are all old and damaged and the car not worth much. We were wondering what the house would be appraised for considering all the damage.

At that moment the new boss man, Mr. C, walks by our door on his way to his office without acknowledging anybody. Ben stops what he’s doing, gets up and follows after Mr. C whereas they both enter his office and close the door. Malika, Vic and I all look at each other.

“Another top secret meeting?”

“They certainly have become buddy, buddy, haven’t they?”

“They’re probably talking about their racket ball games comparing who did better.”

After several weeks pass, I have to go back to Mr. Oldenburg’s. As I approach the house, I notice the front door is open. I enter.

“Hello! Anybody in here?”

I stop when I see a woman talking into a hand-held tape recorder

“Oh, hi Trixie. I didn’t know you were going to be out appraising today.”

“Oh hi Phil. You startled me. I didn’t hear anybody come in.”

“Sorry. You left the door open. I’m here to meet the tow truck driver to get that car pulled out of the garage. You by yourself or is the hubby around?”

“By myself today. I know this is a safe neighborhood, so I don’t mind coming out by myself. Just about finished. Wow! What a freaky story! Is this the chair he was found in?”

“Yeah, I know you really want that chair for your own use, don’t you? Looks comfy?”

We both laugh

Trixie asked if he has any family. I tell her the German Consulate did contact his family in Germany and asked them if they’d be willing to provide some DNA samples to positively ID the remains. They said they did not like him and want no involvement. Trixie asked if DNA testing was something new we were doing. I said in this extreme case, the Medical Examiner may have requested it. She said this case keeps getting more and more interesting. I told her the family did consent after-all to DNA testing once they found out they stand to inherit.

Trixie responds “Money certainly is a motivation. Oh well, I’ll get this appraisal back to you guys as soon as possible.”

“Anything of value here?”

“A few pieces here and there but overall it’s going to be a low value. Not enough to go to auction. The second-hand furniture dealers you use may find some things.”

“I won’t keep you. I know you want to finish here. I hear the tow truck approaching anyhow. It was good seeing you again Trixie! I’m sure we have more appraisals for you coming up soon too.”

“OK Phil, I’ll talk to you soon then. I’ll lock up when I’m done here.” She turns and resumes talking into her hand-held tape recorder “One upholstered arm chair in soiled and used condition. No value.”

I leave Trixie to wave down Tyrone, the tow truck driver.

“Hey Tyrone, you’re right on time as usual. Just what I like to see. The car is in the garage so you’ll need to pull in the alley. It doesn’t start so you’ll have to drag it out of there.”

“No problem. I’ll meet you back there.”

After the car is removed and towed away, I start heading back to my car. Steve comes out and waves to me.

“Hey Phil. What’s going on with this?”

“Hi Steve. We did get a hold of that family in Germany.”

“Yeah, so? Are they coming in to town to take care of his stuff?”

“No. Since they’re not US citizens they can’t handle but they can inherit.”

“They get it all? How much does the old timer have?”

“Steve, I can’t tell you that.”

“Does your office charge for doing all this?”

I told him we do but not too sure how much. I believe it’s a percentage of the total estate. I’ve been told we’re still cheaper than what a private attorney would charge for the same service. Suddenly, he says;

“Hey, by the way. You’re not going to believe this but yesterday the police removed a decomposed body from that house over there on the other side of Oldenburg’s”

“You kidding me? What’s going on around here?”

“How about it! As long as I’m not next. Yep, he was another loner. And German!”

The next morning in the office we’re all at our desks. I ask Ben if he went to the Medical Examiner’s yesterday to pick up the case reports. They give us case reports of every corpse that comes into their facility for storage. It is our responsibility to read through them and weed out the ones that specifically mention family. These reports contain information such as address of occurrence, reporting officer and circumstances surrounding the incident along with other info.

Ben stops working on his computer and hands me a manila envelope filled with the case reports. I start thumbing through them then stop when I get to the one I was looking for.

“Here it is. You guys are not going to believe this but the house next to the skeleton’s also had a decomposed body removed from it the other day. I was talking to that neighbor and he was telling me about it.”

Victor breaks the silence “I thought I smelled something rotten coming from that house when we were out there. I was knocking on his door. It smelled like something was dead under the porch.”

“Yeah, I remember you commenting on it.”

Malika asks if he had any family listed on the report. I told her the police were called by the out-of-town son to do a well-being check. Not one for us to handle. At that moment a woman pokes her head in the office.

“Malika, did you get me that information I requested?”

“Yes, I put it in your mail slot.”

“OK thanks.” And the woman leaves.

I ask who that was. Malika said she was the new law clerk hired by Mr. C, the new Public Administrator. I’ve seen quite a few new faces around the office ever since the new boss took over. I was told that there were rumors going around the office that the new clerk and Mr. C were spending a lot of time together once the office is closed. It was the first time for me hearing this. Everyone agreed it was old news. I ask in a teasing way “why am I always the last to know these things? Really! Any truth to the rumors?”

I was told Mr. C was in the process of divorcing his pregnant wife. I asked if there were to be more changes coming. The Public Administrator is appointed to the office by the Governor and usually with someone of the same political affiliation. Mr. C and the Governor are Republican. If he were a Democrat like the last Governor and Public Administrator, there wouldn’t be any changes. But naturally each new appointee wants to fill the office jobs with their own political affiliates. It wouldn’t be my lowly position someone would want anyhow but rather the management positions where the salary is higher. Over the decades of my employment there, I’ve seen many Governors and Public Administrators come and go. I’ll discuss how I got hired later.

Ben said Mr. C told him that there would be no changes to the investigation department. He is very pleased with the work we all are doing. He said “Nobody is going anywhere” as he grabs the newspaper off my desk and leaves the room. He says “Somebody answer my phone if it rings. I’ll be back in a while.”

With a smirk on her face Malika says, “You know guys, nobody wants to touch that paper after he’s taken it to the bathroom with him.”

Just then Karen the receptionist walks past our door,  “Good morning everyone. Phil, Dick wants to see you.”

So, I get up and go see what our office attorney, Dick, wants me for. He asks me to fill him in on the “skeleton” case. I told him we finally got all his account verification back, the low appraisal of the house’s contents and car. Mortimer, our property manager, thinks we could get 325,000 for the house as is. I told him about the bizarre situation with the neighbor rotting in his house at the same time. Dicks eyes lit up. He couldn’t wait to tell Mr. C about it.

Once again, I’m outside Mr. Oldenburg’s home waiting for the second-hand furniture buyers (or junk buyers as we call them in the office) to arrive. I’ve opened the doors to the house and garage. There are several different businesses that want to be called to come out and put in a bid. Some sell things online and others have antique stores where they’ll be selling Mr. Oldenburg’s things. What they do is look through everything to determine if they can make money off anything. Later they’ll fax to the office what they’re willing to pay us to clean out the premises.

They all arrive on time and gather around. “You got something good for us today?”

I answer “I guess you’ll be the judge of that. As you know the places we call you out on aren’t going to be valued at much.”

“Yeah, well you could throw a bone in our direction once in a while. Business is brutal out there.”

They all agree and repeat “brutal.”

I tell them I’m not the one to decide which premises to take them out to. If they had complaints to call Mary in the office. She handles all goods and chattel appraisals. I told them I’d let her know their concerns. One of the dealers said he asked her before to send some better homes their way, but she said it’s done this way for the benefit of the decedent’s estate.

“Well then. I guess that’s your answer. Shall we?” as I direct them into the house.