Peter Pan and suicide in the Netherlands

Today's Tragic Yet Truly Morbid Fact!

Best known as the boy on whom J.M. Barrie based the character Peter Pan, Peter Llewelyn-Davies did, in fact, grow up, and died by throwing himself under a train at the age of 63. After returning from WWI, he suffered a series of family tragedies. His brother George was killed in the war and another brother, Michael, died under odd circumstances at Oxford (his body was found with that of his best friend, Rupert Buxton, their hands tied together, causing many to speculate that the two had been lovers). When Peter was cut out of J.M. Barrie's will, it was apparently the last straw. He began drinking more frequently, and finally became an alcoholic. On the night of April 5, 1960, after spending the evening at a bar, Peter walked to nearby Sloane Square and threw himself under an arriving train as it pulled into the station.

Culled from: BAM
Generously submitted by: kelshubert

**********************************************************************

I can't help but wonder if this is the way that Peter Pan-emulating Michael Jackson is going to end too...

*******

It's my general policy not to publish "second-hand" brushes with morbidity, for the most. You know, "This happened to my brother..." etc. But if they are particularly unique or well-written, I make an exception. Such is the case with Seb's latest submission:

"My Mum's Co-Worker's Husband's Brush With Morbidity" by Seb

"My dearest Comtesse D.

"You recently placed three short stories of mine in 'My brush with Morbidity,' for which I am eternally grateful. So much so, that when I remembered yet another sickly story from the land of windmills, wooden shoes, and dikes (no pun intended *smile* ) [of course not - despair], I immediately thought of you...

"As I explained in my previous story, the city of Rotterdam is a fairly large city (750,000 people) in the Netherlands that I happen to call home. A long time ago - we're talking 20-odd years - my mother was working at a daycare centre for children. She had a co-worker whose husband worked as an undertaker. His specialty? Assisting the coroner at crime scenes... I have heard numerous stories about the insanity this guy dealt with everyday, but one story in particular stood out.

"So, your humble servant Seb presents you with: 'Going down - a day in the life of a Rotterdam undertaker' or 'My mum's co-worker's husband's brush with Morbidity.'

"It was just another slow day at work for our undertaker (who shall remain nameless, but will be referred to as E for brevity's sake). A stiff here, a ripe one there, and some recent heart attacks... but nothing his subordinates couldn't handle. But then came a call... 'Hi E, this is the Rotterdam Police Dept. We've got a suicide for ya.' E responded with 'Sure, I'm on my way.' The cop chuckled and said: 'Hehehehe, make sure you bring a shovel.'

"It's remarks like this that make a self-respecting undertaker tremble. What was going on?

"OK, before I continue, open an Internet browser and go to Google. Now type in 'Euromast Rotterdam' and select 'images.' Then search and look at the building in question. 186 meters up, in the middle of a park... THAT'S where the suicide took place!

"We again meet our hero at the base of the Euromast as he walks toward the police officers. 'So, where's the jumper?' he asks. A cop says, 'Well, E. Did you bring a shovel like we told you?' Without saying a word, he points at one of his assistants who is carrying a large shovel. 'Good,' says the cop: 'the jumper is approximately 3 1/2 feet below you.'

"As it turned out, the man had jumped from a height of 150 meters onto the grass. In Western Holland, most of the ground is boggy clay and thus very soft. In fact, most buildings in Holland are built on poles that are hammered 30 meters down into the rock stratum. So with this soft ground, high altitude, and a feet-first position... our hapless jumper got an instant-burial on touchdown. Slowly, E tilted his head down and then spotted a small hole in the grass. He bent down and then saw that the hole was actually a lot larger and deeper than it at first appeared to be. All that was visible were the jumper's hands, sticking out of the hole as if he was holding on to the edges of the hole he had created on impact, trying not to fall deeper down into Hades...

"Well, E suggested to just fill up the hole and put a cross on top of it, but Rotterdam's finest wouldn't have that. According to the cops, there are rules about burials, and you cannot bury a human being just anywhere... blah, blah, blah.

"He ended up having to dig the guy out and transport him to the morgue. When he finally got the corpse out of the hole, it turned out to be reasonably intact, except for the legs. The femurs had been driven through the pelvis and abdomen into the chest-cavity, causing near-instant death by complete disintegration of the internal organs. As E said: 'the guy looked like his feet were directly attached to his balls.'

"So, if you want to off yourself without making too much of a mess, jump from a high-rise building into a soggy stretch of grass, feet first. At least it'll give the police, undertaker, and some sick and twisted people in their vicinity something to talk about."

*******

Morbid Trinket Du Jour!

Of course, as you know, the Comtesse would never, ever do anything so vulgar as reproduce! Her life is wretched enough. But for those of you who have elected to contribute to the overpopulation by Homo sapiens sapiens of the planet Earth - or who know someone who has - here's the perfect little "Awwwww, innit cute?" morbid trinket.

Thanks to J. Bo.