I’ve been deeply touched this week while reading the final sections of a book titled, “The Unclaimed: Abandonment and Hope in the City Of Angels,” by Pamela Prickett and Stefan Timmermans (2024). I was especially moved by Chapter 12, which describes a public ceremony commemorating 1457 people whose cremated remains had been in storage at the Los Angeles County Crematorium for three years, unclaimed. Father Chris cares deeply about commemorating the people who had died; he regrets that they end up anonymously in a mass grave. The day was rainy, the ground muddy. He worried that no one would attend the 10 A.M. service. Here’s a quote (from pp. 211-212) about what happened that rainy day in 2019:
“At nine-fifty A.M. Father Chris looked up from his notes and stared in astonishment. A steady stream of dark-clad mourners was marching up the hill in the rain. Some came in small groups, but most were alone. When they arrived, the strangers stood close together under the canopies. A second circle formed around the edges. Then more, fanning out in wider circles. They reflected the diversity of the country’s second-largest city: Black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, long black hair, short gray hair, purple hair, full beards, faces too young to be bearded. More than a handful wore jackets or name badges that revealed their affiliations with various county agencies. These were people who had interacted with the unclaimed before and after their deaths, including clergy from Father Chris’s chaplaincy program at the hospital. … All together there were almost two hundred mourners. Most knew nothing about the people they were about to honor.“
The authors of this book, in earlier chapters, had shared stories of individuals who were living in difficult circumstances: estranged from family, unhealthy, struggling financially, and sometimes lacking safe housing. These people were at risk of dying alone, unclaimed. But they did have neighbors and friends, people who knew of them, and some who really loved them.
Midge Gonzales is a memorable example. There’s a tragic disconnect between her active life and her final ending. When she died in 2016 at age 68, her cremated remains were registered in the leather-bound log at the county crematorium. Her legal name, birthdate, sex, race, date of death and medical examiner case number were recorded there. But… “The nickname she had gone by for most of her adulthood, irrelevant from a legal standpoint, was nowhere in her record.” No one came to claim her remains, so in 2019 she was buried along with the 1456 other “unclaimed” from 2016.
Midge had been active in children’s ministry and neighborhood outreach, and for a while lived in her van in a church parking lot. Her close friend Nora believed that the church had intended to bury Midge. When the medical examiner’s office called Nora to inform her that a niece had been located, Nora thought that was the end of the story. It wasn’t! That niece, who lived in NM and was too ill to travel, called the Office of Decedent Services and asked them “to have Midge’s ashes shipped, but was told that the county didn’t offer this service.” Two years later the niece again was contacted, but chose not to make the long trip to Los Angeles to retrieve the ashes of a relative she barely knew. Neither Nora nor the church were informed that Midge’s next-of-kin failed to come for her remains.
I do recommend this book, though it is rather heavy reading about the challenges of too many unclaimed bodies in Los Angeles, how workers in various agencies were attempting to cope, and stories of the personal lives of some individuals whose bodies or cremated remains ended up “unclaimed.” But I also found good news within the pages, as caring people worked to help others.
Note: I had recently attended an “End of Life Presentation” at a church in Holyoke, MA, that drew a crowd of about 100. I was moved by what I learned there, and was quite open emotionally that night. Reading Chapter 12 so soon after that experience heightened my reaction. Many of the authors’ points seemed SO relevant to some issues fresh in my mind from the End of Life Presentation. Family connections and communications (or lack there of) are critical. Ceremonies and rituals at the time of burial can be VERY meaningful, not only for relatives and friends but also for strangers who choose to observe the process.
People without next of kin need other caring people to help navigate the end of life, and to remember that they lived.
I intend to write more about my reactions to this book. Check back here in the future, and you may find more quotes and comments.
