THE REST OF THE STORY – PART 2

May 31, 2010

THE REST OF THE STORY – PART 1 is found HERE.

The nurses at the clinic on Colonel Hill, Crooked Island the Bahamas have just declared my husband dead. They give me a few minutes with him to try and get myself together. The policeman who had been at the police station a few hours ago with us came in. He wanted to know what happened. What kind of medications was Jim on? Did I give him anything on the plane? At the clinic? Could he see my purse? Where was our luggage?

I was asked to leave that room so they could prepare the body. The last I saw Jim he had been wrapped in white and put into a body bag and taken to the small mortuary for safe-keeping until a flight could leave the next day.

The emergency flight plane was there - but they couldn’t leave. The big storm which had delayed our flight earlier was now over Nassau so I would have to stay overnight. One of the people on the junket, Angie from the P.R. agency had stayed behind when the rest of the group went off to fish. I didn’t know it until later, but she just felt she might be needed.

The Superintendent also showed up offering his services. He and Angie made arrangements for me (and Angie) to stay overnight at the Pittstown Point Lodge. There had been a big storm and it was still blowing and raining a bit when we got there, but the folks at the lodge managed to find a fresh pot of coffee. That really helped. I know I had a very nice dinner there, but I don’t remember what. My cottage overlooked the ocean; I could hear it and could see the light from the Bird Rock Lighthouse as it made its rotation. I sat outside on a bench for a while just trying to figure out what had happened. I felt numb and terribly tired. Eventually I went inside. There was a soft down comforter on my bed and I buried myself in it.

Angie woke me the next morning. The weather had cleared enough for the plane to fly back to Nassau. We had breakfast and the Superintendent drove over to pick us up and drive us back to the airport. The black body-bag was loaded on the chartered plane and then me and my police escort. Everyone was very nice, but the policeman explained I was a ‘person of interest’ since my husband had died under strange circumstances and I was the only person with him. The two nurses were without question. We flew back to Nassau where I waited for someone to pick me up. It had been arranged that I would go back to the Sheraton hotel where I was to stay until the autopsy was done. My policeman was always within sight. I went down to the computer kiosk in the lobby, looked up Trav’s phone number on the White Pages and called him. I had to hear the sound of reality - what I was going through wasn’t. A little later one of the ladies from the Tourism Ministry, Maxine Williams came to see me and took me to lunch, no police escort on that one.

The following day the autopsy was performed by a very nice lady doctor, Dr. Sands at the Princess Margaret Hospital. I still had my policeman. I waited at the morgue for the report. Her findings; Jim had calcific atherosclerosis of all three coronary arteries with up to 90% stenosis and focal occlusion of the right coronary artery and up to 70% of the left anterior descending and the left circumflex. Dr. Sands commented to me that had we been in Seattle at the U of W Hospital he would not have survived. I found that most disturbing since we had an appointment with his heart specialist at the University of WA Hospital the Friday before we left on the trip to make sure he was well enough to go. He had given Jim a clean bill of health! Seems someone missed something.

Once the medical examiner had given her report my policeman left me his name, address and phone number and offered to help in any way. Then he left.

I don’t know if I have explained that from the time Jim died until Dr. Sands performed the autopsy I was under suspicion of murder. That’s why I had a police escort. It was a very spooky, scary and strange situation and I was scared. Something else, I had a couple of hundred bucks in green money and a couple of credit cards. Up until this point the Bahamian government, via the Tourism Ministry was paying my bills. I didn’t know for sure I could get home on what money or credit cards I had on me. I found out later Jim had other credit cards I didn’t know about, enough that I could have paid my bills there and gotten home. Angie also had offered to pick up any bills I had including airfare. I believe everyone I dealt with in Nassau was wonderful. Most Bahamians are religious, and not in a phony way either. People in public positions are very courteous and caring. I knew I could be in trouble simply because the first person to be a suspect in a strange death like Jim’s was the wife and that would be me. There’s nothing like a policeman at your side to get that point across. (He too was very courteous, opening doors, carrying my baggage, and standing guard over me while waiting for ride back to the hotel when we flew back from Crooked Island.) The whole thing became my private nightmare.

Now I had to arrange to get Jim’s body home. By that I mean back to Seattle WA. We are in a foreign country. Maxine had driven me to the coroner’s office at the morgue. I asked her who I had to contact to get the body shipped back and she asked me to please let her handle it. The arrangements would have to be made through the American Embassy, not a Bahamian government. That really surprised me. The official death certificate also came through the American Embassy (and that was very surprising to several of the various people/official offices here afterward as well.) Maxine drove me back to the hotel, told me to get some sleep and she would call later.

The next day I was contacted by a local undertaker who told me he had Jim’s body and I needed to come to his establishment and sign the paperwork for cremation. I was not planning on that and was shocked. About that time Maxine called to let me know the American Embassy would not allow Jim’s body to be shipped back - it would have to be cremated or buried there. I’m not at all sure I handled any of that very well and looking back I probably should have scattered his ashes in the water there.

Maxine had other business she had to attend to, but she sent one of her assistants to drive me to the mortuary. I signed the paperwork and was told I couldn’t get the ashes until the following day as there was a cooling period required for the ashes. The assistant asked if I was hungry and offered lunch. We ate at a lovely place downtown overlooking the harbor and then to the hotel, without my policeman.

My friend Maxine also made arrangements for me to fly home. The next day she took me to the airport and waltzed me through the lines and officials without missing a beat. I had my baggage and Jim’s, the fly rods and gear and the box of Jim’s ashes. No one checked anything including my Passport.

Somehow I made it back to Seattle and my good neighbors David and C.J. came to SeaTac airport and brought me home - but only after feeding me. They were convinced that I had been starving from all the stress. And since they had both worked on airplanes they knew I was going to have a ton of luggage and didn’t want me hauling it around.

All of my neighbors here were wonderful. Supportive and caring, I could not ask for better. Jim dying and the way he died was a horrible shock. I don’t believe he suffered; basically he had one bad day. Unfortunately he didn’t get to fish. And neither did I.

The Bahamians didn’t renew their advertising with us, and now you know “the rest of the story.”

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