DETROIT With all the spectacular ways to die in this dying city, the fate of a man named Allan was almost pathetic. There he lay, in a weedy lot on the notorious East Side, next to a liquor bottle, his pockets turned out.
But as it goes with such things, one man's misery is another man's money. The body retrievalist for the county morgue had arrived on the scene. He was happy. He sang strange little ditties. Cracked odd little jokes. Said things like: "We got plenty of room in this here van, yes sir."
Do not judge him. A happy attitude is necessary in his profession. It keeps the mind from shattering, salts one's sanity. Call the job dirty. Call it 14 bucks the hard way $14 a human body, $9 an animal. He said he made $14,000 last year. He made most of it at night.
His tax forms officially read "body technician." Unofficially, Mike Thomas calls himself body snatcher, grim reaper, night stalker, bag man. Whatever you call it, it is one man's life.