A job title such as pediatric forensic pathologist is not one you see on a business card dropped into the teriyaki frequent visitor jar very often. Children that are killed or die due to unusual circumstances such as abuse, SIDS, infectious disease requires a special analysis. This is different from a medical examiner who are traditionally forensic pathologists, pediatric versions of this job are unique.
My mom was in school for 14 years after graduating high school, if that doesn’t explain why this type of doctor is rare then maybe its because the job is inundated with dead innocence. If dead babies don’t freak the shit out of you, then you wouldn’t want an invitation for dinner when I was growing up, with slides and photographs left around the dining room table that make horror films seem like Disney.
Nope, it takes a wacky lady but also a Joan of Arc like temperament to be the last advocate for these kids. I grew up in the wake of this temperament and I learned a lot through osmosis and I suppose through direct examination as she would dictate her casework to me. It took many years for me to realize I didn’t want to be a doctor. Why not be a doctor? Both of my parents are doctors and neither regretted their decisions; although, my mom has stated on a number of occasions how she would have enjoyed being a vet. My father is a family doctor, and after I don’t know, more than 40 years practicing, he has a pretty good street cred. My mom has created a reputation across the country as an expert witness. So, with these two powerhouses as role models, why wouldn’t I be a doctor?
My mom did 3 years of undergraduate work at the university of MN and then immediately entered medical school. She completed 4 years of medical school and then her residency which included 4 years of pediatrics. She then switched from pediatrics to pathology. She did either 2 or 4 years of pathology and completed with her forensics. I lose count adding up the years like a stringer of walleye, it is mind boggling to think about.
I think when I looked at her CV of education I wanted the world rather than the books. I love the books, texts, giant tomes of crazy scientific mumbo jumbo to translate; turns me on. But on my terms, not competitively strung out with exams and pseudo-God complex professors - I’d seen enough of that.
But what I did do was take all of the hours of diagnostic training my father gave me and combined it with the hours of case files my mom had shared and turned myself into an investigator. I studied criminology and sociology and psychology at the university of MN and then took an internship with the BCA (bureau of Criminal Apprehension - the State Police of MN) in Saint Paul MN. I wanted to be Barney Miller but I didn’t want to be a cop.
When I started my internship they told me two things; the first, “don’t leave here wishing you did something but never spoke up about it. You want to go on a couple of raids? You want to shoot some guns? Work a crime scene? It’s your job to let us know.” The second thing they told me was, “put your hands in your pockets and shut the fuck up!”
I dove right in. Got myself working on a research project that involved pulling case files from the county morgue. I toured every department of the crime lab from ballistics to documents, DNA and Arson. I was assigned to Senior Special Agent Joel Kohout. This lady was a rockstar. She’d seen it all, worked as a mounted police and did undercover work in a bike gang, studied behavioral sciences with John Douglas at the FBI and was a treasure of information. She would bring me with her to high schools to give lectures on violent criminals and serial killers.
When we were back at the office she would pull huge three-ring binders detailing the case files of famous serial killers and say, “read this - if you have any questions, ask.” I worked a couple of crime scenes which was exhilarating and exhausting. Assisted with the autopsies which was mind boggling, visceral and real.
But it wasn’t until Joel asked me if I wanted to assist in an ongoing investigation, when things got really crazy. She sat me down with her partner Senior Special Agent Good (yep, not making it up) and asked, “would you pretend to be a 15 year boy so that we can catch a sexual predator?” These are the moments in one’s life you don’t forget. And these are the moments you can’t take back. But none of that went through my mind at the time, so of course the answer was yes.
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