Forgotten remembered in service for 200 indigents with no next of kin

RENTON — Some were homeless or lived in shelters, others simply had no next of kin. Many died of the same ailments and natural causes that claim so many in society.

In a low-key and dignified service on a hillside at Mount Olivet Cemetery yesterday afternoon, the cremated remains of 169 men and 31 women were buried together in a single grave. The remains of each had been placed in its own numbered container, with all 200 containers assembled in the same large concrete vault.

The names of the dead were listed alphabetically in a pamphlet from the Medical Examiner's Office: "King County Indigent Burial, April, 2005."

In 1993, the state made it the responsibility of each individual county to dispose of the remains of people who died with no known relatives or close friends to claim their remains and arrange for private burial.

Yesterday was the third such burial here in the past five years, each for 200 people. The agency spends at least a month trying to locate next of kin and determine whether there is private money to help with the funeral. If not, the individuals are cremated and the containers stored until the next burial ceremony.

The ceremony was attended by some four dozen people — clergy members, social workers, homeless advocates and government officials who wanted to honor the 200. The celebration ended with a song by two early members of the folk group The Brothers Four, Dick Foley and Terry Lauber.

JOHN LOK / THE SEATTLE TIMES Mary Larson holds photos of Manuel Nevarez, whose remains were buried yesterday. A nurse, she knew some of the deceased as clients.

For 12 years beginning in the late 1970s, King County Executive Ron Sims was a lay minister with Operation Nightwatch, which helps find shelter beds for homeless people. He got to know many of them, some of whom later died as indigents.

"You hear their voices and laughter, you remember their eyes and their pains," he told the gathering. "We remember their humanity."

Mary Larson, a nurse at the Pioneer Square Clinic, knew some of the deceased as clients.

"I think the sun shone today just for this," said Larson, who also is an artist and painted portraits of some of those who died.

Though there appeared to be no family members there to mourn the dead yesterday, and their death certificates contained minimal information, some left vivid memories for social workers, homeless advocates and others who had befriended them.

Larry Helper

Larry Helper, who had worked as a machinist, died of lung cancer in a low-income apartment in the Central Area on Oct. 12, 2003. Born in Buffalo, N.Y., he was 63 when he died.

Diane Lee, housing program coordinator for the Low Income Housing Institute, first met Helper when she was helping to serve coffee and doughnuts to street people at Westlake Park.

JOHN LOK / THE SEATTLE TIMES Words engraved on the side of a granite bench are meant to inspire visitors to Renton's Mount Olivet Cemetery. Clergy, social workers and some government officials attended the service yesterday.

Helper was living at the time under trucks parked near the Kingdome.

"Larry always volunteered to hand out doughnuts," she said. "His line was, 'one doughnut at a time' as the 40 to 90 lined up to get a little something to start the day."

Eventually, she said, Helper and two friends were able to move into low-income housing. But even then he would show up to help on the morning food line. "Larry said he felt that was where he had started his day for years."

Later, when the food program expanded, he was hired to coordinate the project. "Larry did all the footwork, setting up contacts to pick up the meat, have fresh bagels delivered and having coffee delivered," said Lee. Then the funding ran out and Lee lost contact with Helper.

Carlton Skog

Carlton Skog, 70, who died on July 31, 2003, of heart disease, was born in Minnesota.

Pat Carroll, assistant director at Providence Vincent House, which offers low-income housing to seniors, said Skog lived a simple life. "He had nothing in his room but a little transistor radio, a Bible and a desk. He never used his stove. There was nothing in the fridge. He ate all his meals at the Senior Center.

"He was an avid baseball fan. He could have watched the games on TV, but he didn't. He liked to sit in his room with his little radio."

After his death, Skog was remembered in a residents' newsletter:

"Carl took dancing lessons when a child, sang in the Lutheran Church choir for years, and helped his uncle on a farm. You could tell by his many kindnesses that he was raised well in the old country ways.

"When Carl came out here in 1960 he did yard work in people's homes. He said that when he saw the beautiful Sound he instinctively knew that Seattle was for him."

Manuel Nevarez

Manuel "Manny" Nevarez, who died March 7, 2003, of renal failure, was born in El Paso, Texas. He was 74.

Mary Larson, the nurse and artist, painted his portrait. "He let me take his picture several times for me to paint him," she said. "It was hard to get him to smile, but when he smiled he'd light up a room."

Brigid Hagan, left, and Michele Marchand, center, attended the ceremony yesterday. Both belong to the group Women in Black, which holds candlelight vigils any time a homeless person dies on the streets.

She remembered that he died with $730 stuffed in his socks, no known family, and "with a pair of gloves we had given him at the clinic.

"I will never forget the words on the flier from his memorial service: 'We are celebrating the life of Manuel, who made no ripples in the pond of world affairs. But God sees and rewards the efforts of all, especially those of the poor.' "

Collette Flemming

Collette Flemming, who died April 19, 2002, of drug poisoning, had worked as a nursing assistant. She was 51.

Anitra Freeman, contributing editor of Real Change, a newspaper sold by street people, remembered her as enthusiastic and lively, though "she'd disappear for short stretches. I think she had depression problems."

Freeman said Flemming was involved with the homeless women's advocacy group WHEEL — the Women's Housing, Equality and Enhancement League — and showed great promise as a public speaker. "She had that vibrancy."

Freeman remembered the time a group of women went to King County Executive Ron Sims' office to lobby for winter shelter and spoke with Sims' assistants. "She was a real bulldog. She asked tough questions," said Freeman. "When we left and got to the street level, Collette jumped up and down with a bright look on her face. It broke me up that this vibrant, loving, sweet lady had nobody that claimed her."

Bobbie Radcliff

Bobbie Radcliff died May 22, 2003, of lung cancer. He was 60.

Bob Goetschius, director of the St. Martin de Porres shelter for homeless men, remembered him as laid back and easygoing, with a small circle of friends.

"He didn't bother anybody. Never had trouble with people. He'd do volunteer work around here, doing laundry, helping out with painting," said Goetschius. "Really, that's about it."

Mary Larson also painted Radcliff's portrait.

She remembered, "He used to give me a bad time because I had a tendency to misspell his name. He had a gentle voice. He had a kind smile. He'd share a story that would make me laugh, and he'd chuckle too, and his smile sparkled."

It was Larson who arranged for Foley and Lauber of The Brothers Four to sing at the service. After the benediction, the two brought out their guitars and performed "Wayfaring Stranger":

"I am a poor, wayfaring stranger, Traveling through this world of woe, But there's no sickness, toil or danger, In that bright world to which I go."