Hockessin family: Why was loved one buried in unmarked grave?

Tucked behind the state prison for women off Route 13 is the New Castle Potter's Field, a cemetery where the state buries those who are poor or unclaimed by family. Susan Gregg-Feher never dreamed she would find the body of her older brother here following his death at their Hockessin home last summer.

"I couldn't believe it," Susan said. "It's like he is a piece of trash or something."

Last Friday, at the end of a four-month ordeal to locate the body of her 56-year-old mentally disabled brother, Susan and her husband, Ron Feher, parked their white Buick Century alongside the barbed wire fence of Baylor Women's Correctional Institution and walked past a white sign announcing, "State of Delaware Potter's Field."

As they followed a path to the back of the cemetery, their boots sank into fresh earth turned to mud by the first snowfall of the year. Susan adjusted her thick black sunglasses, bent down and stuck a red Poinsettia into the mud beside her brother's grave.

"This is nuts," Ron said upon seeing the stone marker for his brother-in-law, Duane Gregg, lying sideways in the mud. Number 799 was etched into the top of the marker. A green plastic identifier lay nearby. It was blank in the spots where Duane's name, age, and date of birth and death should have been written.

When Duane died on Aug. 18, the state Medical Examiner's office came to the Hockessin home and took his body for an autopsy. The family and the state acknowledge that two phone calls were exchanged immediately after the Medical Examiner's office removed the body.

But the family and the state disagree about who is to blame for Duane being buried as a pauper.

While Susan and Ron insist that the state went silent after the initial two phone calls, the Medical Examiner's office said it called the family repeatedly but never got an answer.

The state moved forward with an indigent burial after 30 days, during which time it placed death notices in the Delaware State News, which circulates around Dover, and in The News Journal, which circulates statewide. The online death notice said a private funeral would be held for Duane at a Dover funeral home; no mention was made of where he would be buried.

"Our facilities are not equipped to hold loved ones indefinitely," State Medical Examiner Dr. Gary Collins said in an emailed statement. "In our experience, it is extremely unusual for an interested family or next of kin to go days without contacting our office or a funeral home for information about their loved ones. In Mr. Gregg's case, we did not hear from any of his family for weeks, and subsequent calls from our investigators to the family went without a response."

Susan and Ron insist that they did not receive calls from the state. And their cell phones worked fine, the couple said, noting that they received calls daily on the numbers they supplied the state – the same numbers the state initially called on. They also insist that Ron called the Medical Examiner's office, but couldn't get through to anyone.

Frustrated, the family asked their family physician, Dr. Stephen Kushner, to make inquiries. Dr. Kushner, who could not be reached for comment, told the couple it could take up to eight weeks for an autopsy to be completed and the body released, Ron and Susan said. The state investigator who took the body told them the same, the couple said.

So they waited.

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"At first, I thought, 'Oh God, I hope they didn't lose his body,' because it was taking forever," Susan recalled. "Then I thought maybe they have a backlog of bodies."

Collins said it does not take eight weeks for the body to be released. Bodies are usually transferred to the funeral home of a family's choice within three to four days of arrival.

Had the family contacted the funeral home they wanted to use – Strano & Feeley in Newark – Duane would not have been buried in Potter's Field, Collins said. His staff contacted that funeral home on Sept. 12, but were advised the family had not requested any services.

Hearing nothing from the family, the state arranged for the body to be transported to the Bennie Smith Funeral Home in Dover. Once the body was ready to be buried, the state gave the family an additional 10 business days to come forward. During that time, an employee of the funeral home called Duane's family four times between Sept. 13 and Sept. 15, but was unable to leave a message on the number provided, a state Department of Health and Social Services spokesperson said.

"Naturally, we came to the conclusion that a state-sponsored burial was in order," Collins said.

Duane was buried Sept. 26.

Susan and Ron did not learn of the burial until November, when a family member contacted her after seeing the death notice online.

Susan is stunned by it all –– heartbroken that no one from the family was present at graveside. She and Ron wonder if the state will pay to exhume his body and rebury Duane next to his father in the Friends Meeting House Cemetery in Hockessin.

"You trust them to take your loved one," Susan said, "and then this happens."

It is unclear whether the state will pay for the disinterment. The Department of Health and Social Services –– not the Medical Examiner –– must make that call.

"According to state law, a licensed funeral director is responsible for filing for the disinterment permit, as well as overseeing the disinterment," said  DHSS spokesperson Jill Fredel. "It would be up to the family to hire this funeral director, because they are the ones who wish for the body to be moved. Whether the state would pay for the disinterment is not specified in the law."

A Batman-themed birthday

Duane and his sister Susan have always had a unique relationship. While he was five years older than Susan, his disability kept him at the mental capacity of a child. Susan took on the role of caregiver, especially after their mother died a decade ago.

In his younger years, Duane participated in Special Olympics and kept his prized gold and silver medals on a lamp shade in the bedroom of his family's home on Old Wilmington Road. Later in life he held various jobs, including most recently a dishwasher position at the University of Delaware. That ended in 2012.

Duane also had a passion for sports and would rattle off facts about the Philadelphia Eagles, Flyers and Phillies.

"I would tease him saying that the Eagles stink," Ron recalled with a smile. "He would say, 'You stink.' "

Aside from a stomachache, Duane seemed fine in the days before his death, Susan said. But on the afternoon of Aug. 18, Susan noticed Duane was taking too long in the bathroom.

She opened the door and found him slumped on the toilet.

Ron pulled him off the toilet and began doing chest compressions as they waited for paramedics. But paramedics and police were unable to revive Duane.

The family believes Duane died quickly of natural causes. The medical examiner, however, would not confirm the cause of death to The News Journal since state law exempts the office from having to provide that information.

Duane's death was devastating for Susan. All she could think about was his birthday party planned for Sept. 13. The theme was going to be Duane's favorite super hero – Batman.

"Duane was just a big kid," Ron recalled.

Trusting the process

In 2015, the state conducted nearly 600 autopsies, most of which occur at the laboratory on South Adams Street in Wilmington.

The Division of Forensic Science laboratory, which houses the Medical Examiner's unit, has been facing turbulence since the division head Michael Wolf, hired with years of experience turning around troubled labs, resigned in July.

Wolf said the state failed to provide the staffing and resources essential to bringing the division into the future. He also warned that the pathology unit handling death investigations could lose its national accreditation in 2019 if the small, rundown lab remains on South Adams Street.

Some took notice of his warning and resignation because a prior scandal rocked the state's criminal justice system: Almost three years ago, thousands

of drug cases were put in jeopardy after an investigation revealed that at least 55 pieces of drug evidence were stolen or tampered with between 2010 and 2014 in the controlled substances laboratory in the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner.

The revelation led the state to shut down the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner and quickly move all operations to the newly created Division of Forensic Science under the Department of Safety and Homeland Security. The former Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Richard T. Callery was fired and sentenced to a year of probation after pleading no contest to official misconduct for using state workers and equipment to run his private consulting business.

Under the new department and leadership, the lab made significant changes. But Wolf said the lack of funding was making it difficult to keep up with rising rates of homicides, rapes and drug deaths –– especially those caused by heroin and fentanyl.

But none of this was in the minds of Susan and Ron after Duane's passing. The hours after his death were a whirlwind for the family.

The state and family agree that their contact information was exchanged when the Division of Forensic Science investigator came to the home. They also agree that the couple told the authorities where they wanted the funeral services to take place.

Seeking advice on the law

Duane's family heard from the investigator twice after that. Once he called to pick up keys that were left in the grass outside their home. Then he called to inquire about Duane's disability.

The family said the investigator never told them that they should make arrangements with the funeral home to have the body picked up at the Wilmington location within 24 to 48 hours. They also claim to have never received any calls after the first two.

"They know [how this works] because they deal with it every day," Susan said. "But people like us don't know."

Collins said the investigator told the couple what needed to be done and followed standard procedures. Beginning Aug. 20, the state tried to call the family using the phone number they provided, Collins said.

"Those calls went unanswered and were not returned," he said.

The state and the family said they didn't make contact with each other until December. At that point, the family was fuming.

Collins said a situation like this is "exceedingly uncommon" and that he has expressed his empathy to Duane's family for the "very unfortunate turn of events."

The family, however, said the incident has made an already difficult time worse for them. They contacted Wilmington attorney Barry Snyder, who said regardless of whether the incident leads to legal action, the state should pay to rebury Duane's body where the family wants it.

"You take the body and you don't get it back to the people?" he asked. "It's just so casual on the medical examiner's part."

Susan and Ron hope that no one else has to go through the same confusion. Not knowing where Duane was buried saddened them during the holidays – a time that normally would have been filled with excitement as Duane would unwrap a green Hess truck every year on Christmas morning. That truck still sits wrapped in their living room.

Added Susan: "I just want to get him resting somewhere – in peace."

Contact Jessica Masulli Reyes at 302-324-2777, jmreyes@delawareonline.com or Twitter @JessicaMasulli.