In the context of law enforcement it the United States, such names are often used to refer to a corpse whose identity is unknown or unconfirmed.
Back in 2016 I doubled down on my meditation practice thinking it might buttress me against my emotions. The San Francisco medical examiner’s report had arrived weeks ago. Every day I told myself I would get to opening it. And every day came and went.
I was more than ready to tackle this task. I was tired of vacillating between fear and apprehension. That was the first step of my preparation. The second was to consider soliciting support. After running different scenarios in my head in which someone was holding my hand, I decided it was better to open the autopsy report alone. I wanted to guard this piece of the story. And the only was to do that was to open it alone. I felt protective of my friend in a strange way. Over the course of this project, I’ve already endured more gallows humor from my family than I can stomach. And I’m fed up with hearing that I’m wasting my time. Now I tend not to broach the subject to anyone. Hand holding would require bringing the subject up. It’d be difficult enough getting it open since my hands wouldn’t stop trembling. I couldn’t imagine how I might open it shaking and one handed.
I opened the ME report. First thing I notice is that she was Jane Doe #17. I read the history of the case and find out that a taxi driver found her on the 800 block of Front street while he was taking a piss. He flagged down an officer. The police moved her from a prone to a supine position. I had to look those words up to be certain what they meant. Are they supposed to move bodies like that? Aren’t they supposed to leave a crime scene intact until investigators get there?
