Death in the trailer park
Just before we had breakfast this morning, we got a frantic phone call from my assistant manager, Vicki, at the park. Chas answered the phone and handed it to me: "It's Vicki and she's so hysterical I can't make out what she's saying."
I took the phone and Vicki was indeed hysterical. I was about to shout at her and tell her to shut up (which I sometimes have to do to calm her down) when I finally made out the words: "Stacey's dead." Now I was glad that I had not shouted because Stacey and Vicki had been very close. (They're both recovering drug addicts and had a lot in common.) So, I just listened without interrupting until the story emerged.
Stacey suffered from "seizures." I never did figure out exactly what was meant by that. She was not epileptic (which Vicki is) but, at least once a week, an ambulance came to give emergency treatment to her (or to her husband who also suffers from "seizures.") Apparently she had one of her "seizures" and died. She was only 43 with two kids, a 17 year old daughter who is pregnant and a 14 year son who, I have recently discovered, is illiterate.
The family had been sent to me by the local welfare office who paid their rent for the first few months. I was a bit leery at first as both husband and wife, although they were still young, had no teeth and were fairly rough looking. (I've come to associate the "no teeth" thing with meth users.) But, they were polite and humble and their kids were well-behaved, clean and nice looking. Their trailer was not too good but I reluctantly agreed to accept them as monthly tenants.
They turned out to be excellent tenants. They both eventually received SS disability and always paid their rent on time. Then the daughter got pregnant. Fortunately the father turned out to be a good guy. His parents bought a nice new trailer for the young couple and I let them move into the park a few months ago. Stacey was thrilled to have her daughter nearby.
Then another tenant moved out and I arranged for Stacey to buy his trailer which was in good shape. I've done this four times before for tenants. When someone moves out and wants to sell their trailer, I buy it and then sell it (on a monthly payment over two years) to a tenant whom I trust and respect. Most of them have bad or no credit history and I take a chance but I have not yet been burned and there's a great reward in seeing someone's life improving.
Anyway, I slowly found out more about Stacey and her family. They were circus people and had been travelling around the country most of their lives (which is why the son was illiterate - he'd never been in one school long enough to learn anything.) Then both Stacey and her husband started having "seizures" and could no longer work. That's when they came into my life. I suspect that the "seizures" were probably caused by their past drug and/or alcohol abuse but they were both clean and sober by the time I met them. Stacey was one of the few tenants whom I can say I genuinely liked not simply tolerated.
I hope the young son will be okay. His dad is a good guy but not very competent. There've been so many really nice good kids with bad or incapable parents living in my park. I've often wished that I could foster or adopt them - but I can't because I'm too old and my household is a bit too unconventional for the "authorities." Anyway, I'll keep an eye on the boy and make sure his father is coping.
This is the fifth death that I've had in the park in the five years that I've owned it. I guess that's about normal considering that about 100 people live there. It's a lot like a small village. (We even have a self-appointed "mayor," a Korean War vet who has lived there for 15 years and whose wife could well be the next to die as she has just been diagnosed with a liver problem which may be cancer but, at 76, she's had a fairly good inning unlike 43 year old Stacey.)
The first tenant to die was Mary who was 89. She was British, one of the WWll "war brides" who married a GI and came to live in the US. She had been living in the park for nearly 20 years when she died of a stroke. I loved Mary. She was a staunch Republican with a razor sharp wit.
The next tenant to die was Keith, who died of liver cancer at the age of 48. He had been a history professor who had somehow become a heroin addict and then ended up in prison for ten years. His pastor approached me and asked if I would take him in when he was released from prison. I agreed. Keith had been living in the park for a couple of years when I began to notice that he had become jaundiced. I asked him about it and he told me that he had liver cancer. He began to deteriorate and I realized that he was dying so I called Hospice and got involved with them in taking care of him in the last few months of his life. When he died he left me his trailer and all of his belongings. I sold the trailer and donated everything else (except his very nice set of golf clubs which I kept in case I turn into a duffer in my old age) to Hospice.
The next one to die was Angelina. A friend of hers whom I knew (the trailer park is in a small town and everybody knows everybody else) came to me and told me that she had a friend who needed to escape from a brutally violent husband. Angelina had also been a drug addict (and a hooker) most of her life. Her friend loaned her a trailer and Angelina moved in with her little poodle and began to unwind and relax. One day she came to me to thank me for taking her in. She told me that she felt safe and happy for the first time in her life. A few weeks later, her son came to me and asked for help. He had come to visit his mother and saw that she had collapsed.
I went to her trailer and saw her lying sprawled out on the floor on her back. Her poodle was lying beside her with his head on her breast. I could tell that she was dead even before I checked for a pulse. Sure enough - rigor mortis had already set in. From the fact that she was wearing pajamas and a robe and the way that she had fallen (with a hairbrush lying next to he right hand) in front of the bathroom mirror, it looked like she had suddenly dropped dead while brushing her hair before going to bed. I'm glad that she had a little bit of peace and happiness in my park before she died at the age of 60.
The next one to kick the bucket was Fred. He wanted to move into the park because he was splitting up with his girlfriend. Fred was a dapper gentleman of about 70, drove a nice car and had a very nice trailer - one of those senior tenants whom I especially welcome. (I really appreciate my seniors and give them a 10% discount.) Fred was a spry old guy, fit and healthy. The only problem was that he seemed to be very moody. When he seemed very melancholy one day, I asked him what was the matter. He told me that he suffered from depression and had to take meds for it but they didn't always seem to work.
Then one day he cheered up and was full of beans. His girlfriend had decided to reconcile and move in with him. Everything was ticking over nicely although I did not like the girlfriend much. She was much younger than Fred - a coarse vulgar woman with bleached hair and too much make-up. A few weeks after she moved in, they had a quarrel and she left. The next morning I arrived at the park to see that the cops were at Fred's trailer. They told me that it looked like Fred had killed himself by taking an overdose of all his meds. The girlfriend had come to pick up the rest of her stuff and found him dead.
It seems appropriate to quote from Gray's Elegy written in a Country Churchyard:
I took the phone and Vicki was indeed hysterical. I was about to shout at her and tell her to shut up (which I sometimes have to do to calm her down) when I finally made out the words: "Stacey's dead." Now I was glad that I had not shouted because Stacey and Vicki had been very close. (They're both recovering drug addicts and had a lot in common.) So, I just listened without interrupting until the story emerged.
Stacey suffered from "seizures." I never did figure out exactly what was meant by that. She was not epileptic (which Vicki is) but, at least once a week, an ambulance came to give emergency treatment to her (or to her husband who also suffers from "seizures.") Apparently she had one of her "seizures" and died. She was only 43 with two kids, a 17 year old daughter who is pregnant and a 14 year son who, I have recently discovered, is illiterate.
The family had been sent to me by the local welfare office who paid their rent for the first few months. I was a bit leery at first as both husband and wife, although they were still young, had no teeth and were fairly rough looking. (I've come to associate the "no teeth" thing with meth users.) But, they were polite and humble and their kids were well-behaved, clean and nice looking. Their trailer was not too good but I reluctantly agreed to accept them as monthly tenants.
They turned out to be excellent tenants. They both eventually received SS disability and always paid their rent on time. Then the daughter got pregnant. Fortunately the father turned out to be a good guy. His parents bought a nice new trailer for the young couple and I let them move into the park a few months ago. Stacey was thrilled to have her daughter nearby.
Then another tenant moved out and I arranged for Stacey to buy his trailer which was in good shape. I've done this four times before for tenants. When someone moves out and wants to sell their trailer, I buy it and then sell it (on a monthly payment over two years) to a tenant whom I trust and respect. Most of them have bad or no credit history and I take a chance but I have not yet been burned and there's a great reward in seeing someone's life improving.
Anyway, I slowly found out more about Stacey and her family. They were circus people and had been travelling around the country most of their lives (which is why the son was illiterate - he'd never been in one school long enough to learn anything.) Then both Stacey and her husband started having "seizures" and could no longer work. That's when they came into my life. I suspect that the "seizures" were probably caused by their past drug and/or alcohol abuse but they were both clean and sober by the time I met them. Stacey was one of the few tenants whom I can say I genuinely liked not simply tolerated.
I hope the young son will be okay. His dad is a good guy but not very competent. There've been so many really nice good kids with bad or incapable parents living in my park. I've often wished that I could foster or adopt them - but I can't because I'm too old and my household is a bit too unconventional for the "authorities." Anyway, I'll keep an eye on the boy and make sure his father is coping.
This is the fifth death that I've had in the park in the five years that I've owned it. I guess that's about normal considering that about 100 people live there. It's a lot like a small village. (We even have a self-appointed "mayor," a Korean War vet who has lived there for 15 years and whose wife could well be the next to die as she has just been diagnosed with a liver problem which may be cancer but, at 76, she's had a fairly good inning unlike 43 year old Stacey.)
The first tenant to die was Mary who was 89. She was British, one of the WWll "war brides" who married a GI and came to live in the US. She had been living in the park for nearly 20 years when she died of a stroke. I loved Mary. She was a staunch Republican with a razor sharp wit.
The next tenant to die was Keith, who died of liver cancer at the age of 48. He had been a history professor who had somehow become a heroin addict and then ended up in prison for ten years. His pastor approached me and asked if I would take him in when he was released from prison. I agreed. Keith had been living in the park for a couple of years when I began to notice that he had become jaundiced. I asked him about it and he told me that he had liver cancer. He began to deteriorate and I realized that he was dying so I called Hospice and got involved with them in taking care of him in the last few months of his life. When he died he left me his trailer and all of his belongings. I sold the trailer and donated everything else (except his very nice set of golf clubs which I kept in case I turn into a duffer in my old age) to Hospice.
The next one to die was Angelina. A friend of hers whom I knew (the trailer park is in a small town and everybody knows everybody else) came to me and told me that she had a friend who needed to escape from a brutally violent husband. Angelina had also been a drug addict (and a hooker) most of her life. Her friend loaned her a trailer and Angelina moved in with her little poodle and began to unwind and relax. One day she came to me to thank me for taking her in. She told me that she felt safe and happy for the first time in her life. A few weeks later, her son came to me and asked for help. He had come to visit his mother and saw that she had collapsed.
I went to her trailer and saw her lying sprawled out on the floor on her back. Her poodle was lying beside her with his head on her breast. I could tell that she was dead even before I checked for a pulse. Sure enough - rigor mortis had already set in. From the fact that she was wearing pajamas and a robe and the way that she had fallen (with a hairbrush lying next to he right hand) in front of the bathroom mirror, it looked like she had suddenly dropped dead while brushing her hair before going to bed. I'm glad that she had a little bit of peace and happiness in my park before she died at the age of 60.
The next one to kick the bucket was Fred. He wanted to move into the park because he was splitting up with his girlfriend. Fred was a dapper gentleman of about 70, drove a nice car and had a very nice trailer - one of those senior tenants whom I especially welcome. (I really appreciate my seniors and give them a 10% discount.) Fred was a spry old guy, fit and healthy. The only problem was that he seemed to be very moody. When he seemed very melancholy one day, I asked him what was the matter. He told me that he suffered from depression and had to take meds for it but they didn't always seem to work.
Then one day he cheered up and was full of beans. His girlfriend had decided to reconcile and move in with him. Everything was ticking over nicely although I did not like the girlfriend much. She was much younger than Fred - a coarse vulgar woman with bleached hair and too much make-up. A few weeks after she moved in, they had a quarrel and she left. The next morning I arrived at the park to see that the cops were at Fred's trailer. They told me that it looked like Fred had killed himself by taking an overdose of all his meds. The girlfriend had come to pick up the rest of her stuff and found him dead.
It seems appropriate to quote from Gray's Elegy written in a Country Churchyard:
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave,
Awaits alike th’inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
posted by Joubert at 10:44 AM
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