The Death of the Living Legend

My stepmother, Janet, thought it a little odd My father didn't answer the phone when she landed at the airport on Sunday morning, the 15th of January. She was a pilot, and still is, for a large commercial airline, and she always made it a point to call before getting the train home to Cambridge.

The house was quiet when she got there. She went upstairs and the first thing she noticed when reaching the top of the staircase was the phone off the hall table and sitting on the floor in front of the  open bedroom door. He must be napping, she thought to herself as walked down the hall to the bedroom doorway where she found my father naked on the bed, sheets and blankets on the floor.

She walked in, reached down and touched him. His skin was cold. She checked for a pulse. There was none. Her heart sank, but she didn't panic. She was, after all, a former Naval pilot and currently flew 747s across the Atlantic and Pacific. She reached down, picked up the phone and dialed 999. An ambulance was dispatched.

She looked around at the scene. The phone on the floor, she reasoned to herself, my father had likely put there to make sure he didn't miss hearing the phone when she called, though the phone cord stretched to it's full length only brought it four feet closer. The sheets and blanket on the floor were puzzling, but as for my father being naked, well, he often slept naked although it was hard to explain doing so on a cold January night in England.

Of course, an autopsy was performed and the results came back three days later. Cause of death: I. (a) Acute heart failure; (b) Recent myocardial infarction; (c) Diffuse and occlusive coronary atherosclerosis and II. Pulmonary oedema. (See death certificate below.)