Medical Examiner's Office

Um...Well...I...I am at a loss for words.

It all started out innocently enough. A field trip to the Medical Examiner's office to learn what public records were available to us there, and how we could go about obtaining them. Sounds great!

Vernard Adams, Chief Medical Examiner for Hillsborough County, spoke to us in board room setting. Innocent.

Dick Bailey lead my half of the group around the facilities to show us how they operate. Innocent...

No! Not at all innocent.

As we made our way through the actual morgue unit, an eerie air crept over the group.

You could almost reach out and grab a handful of the uneasiness that hovered around us.

The first sense of that feeling came as we entered the cooler where the bodies were stored. Fortunately there were no bodies, but it was an awkward foreshadowing of what was to come.

As we exited that cooler, Bailey slipped a key card from his side. He swiped it over a scanner and two metal doors slid open, allowing us access to what, three days later, is still vividly playing in the theater of my mind.

Through a few more doors we came to the morgue. At first it seemed empty, but looking to my left I noticed an operating table complete with tiny chunks of what could only be human meat particles...oh and yes a red watery substance that trickled down to the drainage hole at the bottom.

We continued on, thinking we had made it passed the gore.

Then...there it was!

Like a scene from one of the famous Saw movies, a body lie torn apart on a gurney. Its rib cage sliced open and pulled aside, revealing an empty chest cavity. It looked like a fresh kill you might see on the Discovery Channel.

My gaze moved up toward the head, revealing an even worse horror. The skin of the man's (from what I could tell it was a man in his early 60's) face had been peeled from its skull and lay in a mess, covering the chin area.

The skull and brain seemed to have been removed, as though the victim had the innards of his head sucked out by a powerful vacuum.

Bailey continued on as though the elephant in the room was not there.

Gasps and groans could be heard from the group, but no one appeared to want to be the first to speak up about their disgust.

Mercifully we were lead away, into the safe haven, or so we thought, of the x-ray room.

As Bailey informed us of how the room operated, a mad scientist (at least that's how he looked in my mind) waltzed through the door. He may as well have been whistling while he worked with that sly grin.

It was not him that was unnerving, but what he was carrying. In his left hand he held the cap of what looked like a skull, complete with various substances dripping from it.

He quickly apologized, claiming he didn't realize we were in there. This was clearly a lie.

Again Bailey wrapped up his speech as though this were all routine and then lead us back out into the den of horrors.

One last time we scampered passed the remains of the poor soul that lie sprawled across the cold, plastic table.

Finally out into the fresh air, I was able to catch my breath again.

Unfortunately the traumatic nature of that situation left me unable to grasp any of the public records concepts that were the ultimate goal of the trip.

I did however take one public records anecdote with me. Autopsy photos are not available as public record, yet Bailey and his associates had no problem leading us into the depths of their strange lair, hiding nothing.

I spent the rest of that day trying to shake the image of that sliced up cadaver. I kept wondering what happened to him.

Was he the victim of a homicide? Did he perish in a terrible car accident? I guess if I really wanted to I could go back there and request the records on him, but I am not going near that place again unless absolutely necessary.

What a strange day. My advice to you: If you are ever in a class that offers a field trip to the medical examiner's office, call in sick that day.