Michelle O’Neal is a Senior Forensic Chemist at the Tarrant County Medical Examiner’s Office. With twenty-five years’ experience in drug chemistry she also assists with the recovery of buried and/or skeletal remains and the collection of trace evidence from suspected homicide victims. She is a member of several professional organizations, a current board member and a past President of the Southwestern Association of Forensic Scientists.
In the area of community service Michelle sat for two years as the Board President for The Samaritan House/Samaritan Villages housing project which provides homes for persons living with HIV/AIDS in Fort Worth and she was the 2014 Education Director for the non-profit DFW Writers’ Workshop Conference.
Through the experience gained as a drug analyst and ten years as a crime scene investigator, Ms. O’Neal shares her adventures with a twisted sense of fiction in her novel SHAMBLES.
DW: Tell me about your job.
MO: My daily duties now are mostly confined to the drug chemistry lab. I analyze substances ranging from marijuana to methamphetamine utilizing analytical instrumentation such as gas chromatography/mass spectrometry (GCMS) and Fourier Transform infrared spectrophotometry (FTIR).
I’m on the buried and/or skeletal remains recovery team and the trace evidence recovery team. If our forensic anthropologist receives and call on possible buried remains or skeletal remains, I assist with everything from packing gear to photography to uncovering human remains by meticulously brushing away soil.
In the morgue at the request of one of our pathologist, I search suspected homicide victims and collect any trace evidence such as hairs, fibers or blood that may help solve the crime.
DW: When was the first time you encountered a dead person?
MO: Honestly in my career, I really don’t remember. The very first was my grandfather. I was eight years old and we were at the funeral home where they’d laid him out on a bed. My grandmother and father kept putting his glasses on and taking them off, trying to decide which looked better. It seemed ridiculous to me and I think I blurted out something like “He’s dead he doesn’t need glasses.” My mother labeled me precocious at a very young age.
DW: How was that?
MO: Well it sure gave me a healthy view of death. Because of that experience I never felt the body was the person. The body resembled my grandfather but it wasn’t my grandfather. Even when he slept on the couch he snored loudly. My family was so matter of fact, when I stated the obvious my grandmother shrugged and put his glasses in her purse.
DW: Does seeing a dead body bother you?
MO: A lifeless body can be creepy, but it can be peaceful too. It depends on the age and condition of the body. It’s hard to curtail feelings of anger when the body is that of a child who died a violent death. Or not be repulsed by the stench of a decomposed body.
The most memorable child case I worked was the crime scene of a slain eleven year old girl. Whose mother did nothing when the little girl informed her that the mom’s boyfriend had sexually assaulted her repeatedly. With the news helicopters flapping overhead I held a lock of her blonde hair and made a promise.
From the beginning I made promises to the dead. I still stand close by and promise to do the best job possible so whoever took them from their friends and family will be held responsible. It helps me look at it as a job. A job that has to be done, a job I am well trained to do.
Two of the most difficult crimes scenes I worked were not homicides. One was an elderly man that lived with his mentally challenged son. He lay dead of natural causes in the house they shared for weeks. When the detective asked why he didn’t call someone, the son replied because I will miss my Dad. We made eye contact as I passed on one of many trips in and out of the foul-smelling house. The look of loss in his eyes still haunts me. The other was the suicide of a fifteen year old, the same age as my own son at the time. His parents were in the house. As I trekked through carrying my gear to his location in the back yard I could hear his mother’s visceral wailing. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child for any reason.
And I’ve had family members thank me. In the mist of their grief they take the time to say Thank You. As horrible as someone has been to their loved one(s) they still find it in their heart to be kind. I’m always amazed by how people treat each other from one extreme to the other.
DW: What got you interested in this line of work?
MO: Well, being the precocious child that I was, I began reading true crime around the age of twelve. I read KIDNAP The Story of the Lindbergh Case by George Waller and I was fascinated by the way they matched the wood in Bruno Hauptman’s attic to the wood used to build the ladder found at the Lindbergh home. (The science behind this is now questioned) Then at thirteen or fourteen I read Helter Skelter, The True Story of the Manson Murders by Vincent Bugliosi. Tex Watson was convicted on the testimony of a housekeeper. He claimed his fingerprints were on a doorknob in the house because he had attended a party in the Tate home some months prior to the murders. The housekeeper testified Sharon Tate had an obsession for clean doorknobs, so she cleaned them weekly. I knew at an early age this was the career for me.
DW: In your personal life have you had any experience with death?
MO: Yes I have, three times. Several years ago a friend of mine was alone at the hospital while her father struggled with a slow death from emphysema. She had no other family so I stayed with her in his room. Before he dozed off as they increased his morphine drip he shooed her away and reached for me. He clasped my hand in his, gave me a look of knowing and closed his eyes. His last few breaths were peaceful. Oddly enough, within a week I witnessed the birth of a neighbors’ baby.
In late 2010 I was diagnosed with an atypical very fast growing, neuroendocrine cancer. I had twenty metastasized tumors in my liver. With chemotherapy they gave me six to eight months to live. I work at the medical examiners’ office, people die every day. Why should I be any different? I vowed to continue with chemo even after the first three (horrible) rounds of cisplatin did no good. I found myself comforting my friends and family I wanted them to accept my upcoming departure. Not one complied with my wishes. In the thirteen months that followed I had twelve rounds of chemotherapy and liver resection surgery. Thanks to a man that survived full blown AIDS and refused to let me die, many very special people, positive vibes into the universe, candle lighting prayers and great doctors I’m cancer free today.
My mother’s death six months ago, we removed her from life support. We said our goodbyes and once she slipped from consciousness I was the only one in family okay with it, because I knew she was ready. But when her heart stopped beating I fell apart. I miss her terribly some days, but at least she’s not in pain anymore.
DW: Any words of advice concerning death?
MO: No but I have some concerning life. Do what makes you happy today don’t plan for happiness in the future. You may not have one.
True Crime Writer, Suzy Spencer
Happy Tuesday, folks! Today I am pleased to have Suzy Spencer on the blog. I met
when she was a featured speaker at the
a few months ago. It was a Sunday morning and she was talking about SEX! So, you know me, I was curious. But, that's not why I've invited her on the Death Writer Blog. Although her latest book is a memoir about investigating the fringes of American sexuality, she began as a true crime writer.
And here she is!
DW: Initially, what made you interested in writing about true crime?
Suzy Spencer: I fell into writing true crime. In 1996 a writer/friend came to me and said there’s a really interesting murder that YOU have to write about. When I asked her – and kept asking her – why I had to write about it and why she shouldn’t write it, she never answered. She just kept repeating YOU have to write it.
I did a bit of research on the murder. It was interesting – a rich young lesbian who ruled the downtown Austin gay club scene was murdered by the handsome, drug-dealing boyfriend of her beautiful cheerleader girlfriend. I sent a letter to an editor I knew – who had turned down all my previous work – and mentioned the murder. Unknown to me, she sent my letter to her editor-in-chief, and six months later I had my first book deal – after years of trying and failing.
At that point, I’d never read a true crime book in my life. But I do think my friend was right. I had to write that book –
. It and, more importantly, its murder victim Regina Hartwell have stayed in my soul for 16 years.
Regina always wanted to be famous, and I hope that in some way I’ve given her her 15 minutes of fame. Because of
Wasted
, Regina has been written about in gay publications from coast to coast and featured on two TV shows on the Investigation Discovery network – “Deadly Sins” and “Scorned.”
DW: What was the most difficult aspect of writing about death?
Suzy Spencer: Holding the grief and the agony of the family and friends of the murdered … and the grief and the agony of the family and friends of the murderer. People realize and understand that the family and friends of the murder victim are grief-stricken and their lives are irrevocably changed, but they don’t always understand is that the same thing happens to the family and friends of the killer.
For example, in my book
, which is about a young woman who was reared devout Southern Baptist, became a stripper, then a killer, her best friend was so devastated when she realized what her childhood friend had done that her life fell apart – a life that she’d worked hard to improve after coming from tragic circumstances. She couldn’t cope. She couldn’t work. She couldn’t study. She had to drop out of school. When I met her and interviewed her, she was still trying to understand and accept that her best friend was a killer and trying to get herself and her life back together, because she had a child she needed to protect and role model.
DW: What surprised you most about writing true crime?
Suzy Spencer: Oh, gosh, so much surprised me and still surprises me. I think when I started writing true crime I thought I’d just be a reporter telling a story. I had no comprehension that I would be holding people’s grief in my metaphorical hands, sitting with them and listening to their pain and anger, and trying to convey that in a book. I certainly didn’t realize how my work would make so many people angry – from judges to attorneys to parents and friends.
But from an everyday citizen point of view, I guess I wanted to believe everything in the world of true crime is black and white – someone murders someone, their guilt is black and white, the trial is black and white, the punishment is black and white.
I’ve learned that that’s not reality. When writing true crime, there are so many truths and rarely is one black and white. There is the family of the murder victim’s truth. There is the friends’ of the murder victim’s truth, which frequently is different from that of the family’s. There is the truth of the murderer’s family and friends. There is the prosecution’s truth, which may or may not be the whole truth. There is the defense’s truth, which rarely is the whole truth, but sometimes contains a lot of truths that the prosecution says are lies. There is the judge’s truth, which may be biased by personal prejudices and relationships. And there is the jury’s truth, which is determined by the hearing of incomplete “truths.”
As a reporter, I have to listen and respect each person’s truth, and then try to figure out what the facts are. And unfortunately, the facts aren’t black and white.
DW: In your latest book,
, you mentioned the need to laugh. What aspect of writing these books took its toll on you?
Suzy Spencer: Oh, gosh, there are so many things. The grief, the agony that I mentioned above. It’s hard to sit for hours with sources as they weep and not feel and share their pain. The responsibility – to the victims and their families and friends – to handle their stories with sensitivity and respect while telling the truth, which they may not know and maybe shouldn’t know. And then there are the physical, tangible aspects – holding in my hands murder victim Regina Hartwell’s blood, tissue, and retainer with her teeth still in it; holding and smelling her burned clothing; studying her detailed autopsy report and graphic autopsy photos; then staring at photos of her as a child and hearing the stories of her tragic young life. None of that ever leaves you. And I went through similar experiences for all four of my true crime books. After a while, that wears on one. Or at least it wore on me.
DW: Do you think you'll ever go back to writing true crime?
Suzy Spencer: I don’t plan on it.
A Chat with Sheri Booker
Today I am pleased to welcome Sheri Booker to the Death Writer blog! Sheri and I both went to Goucher College. (In case you were wondering, not everyone who goes through the MFA program at Goucher writes about death.) Sheri's book,
, is about working at a funeral home as a young woman. I look forward to reading it.
DW: I read that you began working in the funeral industry at the age of 15, which I think is amazing. How did that happen?
SB: I lost my great-great Aunt Mary to cancer. She lived with me and was my everything. The funeral director who buried her was a member of our church and close family friend. I needed closure and was very curious about what happened to Aunt Mary, so I accepted a position at the funeral home that handled her services. While most people run away from death, I ran towards it. What was supposed to be a simple summer job turned into nine years of living and learning through death. I know it will sound cliché but everything I learned about life, I learned through death.
DW: Did you have experience with death prior to working in a funeral home?
SB: No, just Aunt Mary. If she had not passed away, there was NO WAY I would have worked, stepped foot in, or even looked twice at a funeral home.
DW: What was your job title at the funeral home?
SB: I had so many different roles at the funeral home that I didn’t have a specific title. We were a small business and so you did a little of everything. I probably held every hat there, except embalming. Some days I was a receptionist, greeter, hearse driver on service, personal concierge. I’ve done hair, makeup, helped dress bodies, written obituaries.
DW: What was your favorite aspect of this job?
SB: I worked with some amazing people and they made the work we did so much easier. I felt blessed to be able to service grieving people, especially since I had been on that side of death. I knew how important it was to be that voice of comfort on the phone when we received a death call or that smiling faces when they came to the funeral home to make arrangements.
DW: Were your coworkers a support network for you when there was a particularly upsetting death that you all had to handle? Was there someone you could talk to?
SB: Yes, we were a family. There were no secrets between us. My boss, Mr. Wylie, was like a father to all of us and Ms. Angela, the office manager, kept everything together. We laughed a lot and we had to because we saw some really heartbreaking cases. Working there made us all stronger.
DW: Did you learn anything about yourself during the writing process of this book?
SB: Absolutely. I happened to be one of the youngest people in Goucher’s MFA program and all of my peers kept telling me that I was too young to write memoir, that at the age of 23 I couldn’t possibly have one in me. But in my mind, I had stories for days and days, more than one book in me. Looking back, I’ve realized that they were right about me being too young to write a memoir. I didn’t have the distance and maturity that I needed to really delve in. I struggled through a few revisions because I just couldn’t come to terms with what had actually happened. I think when writing memoir you have to have the ability to be subjective.
DW: Burial or cremation?
SB: It’s so interesting. For me personally, I’d like to be cremated. Of course I want to have a viewing and funeral but for my final disposition cremation all the way. For a long time cremation was taboo in the African-American community because it’s such an inexpensive service. Many people assumed that if you chose cremation you just didn’t have the money to bury someone. Now it’s more of a preference for families.
DW: Are you going on a book tour?
SB: Yes, I will be having events in Baltimore, DC, Philly, NYC and ATL this summer. Check out my website
and
for more information.