10/15/2025
When you see a last responder (death investigator), remember this - we’ve already walked through the worst day of someone’s life today.
We’ve held their silence, carried their sorrow, and gone home pretending we’re fine.
We are human. And every scene, every story, every name stays with us—
even when you don’t know.
———
I cried when I saw your daughter lying in a ditch, dead from m**h - But how could you know?
I was devastated when I found the 32 year old veteran dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound - But how could you know?
I missed my kids birthdays, school plays and family trips because I had to work - But how could you know?
I had nightmares about the 2 year old crushed under a truck tire while mom was inside buying dope - But how could you know?
I struggled with EVERY death notification I made to a family about their loved one - But how could you know?
I am never comfortable at social gatherings because with the things I've seen, I can't trust anyone -But how could you know?
I've seen things you could never even imagine - But how could you know?
My job was hard on my family - But how could you know?
I had problems, just like everyone else - But how could you know?
So the next time you see a last responder, remember - we are the quiet witnesses to humanity’s hardest moments.
We carry stories that never make the news,
grief that never finds words,
and faces we can never forget.
We are people first - parents, friends, neighbors - trying to make sense of a world that too often ends in tragedy.
There is no training for the weight we carry,
only the hope that, in speaking for the dead,we somehow honor the living.
