I discovered the registry a few months ago and just went ahead and signed up my family, never really thinking that it would be important. Then 17 days ago, my husband left to do a construction job in a city 2 1/2 hours away, in a city where we knew NO ONE! One mile from the job site, my 42-year-old husband, who never complained of anything and seemed perfectly healthy, HAD A HEART ATTACK! The front section of his heart had stopped. He had two blockages.

I woke up to a phone call from the hospital. His cell phone which had the I.C.E. (in case of emergency) stored in the phone book was in his truck. But the words I heard on the other end of phone was a young lady informing me that she had got my number from the NEXT OF KIN REGISTRY and my husband was at the hospital. She then gave me the information and directions and told me what was going on with my husband.

To shorten the story, I was able to give her the information they needed over the phone while in route to my husband. Thanks to NOKR, I was standing next to my husband’s bed when he awoke from his surgery. If I had not registered it could have taking hours for the hospital to locate me.

Like most people, we have an unlisted number and he didn't take his cell phone in with him. If he suffered from drug allergies or had other problems, he could have been dead. So to NOKR, I say thank you for making it possible for me to be there holding his hand when he woke. And on a final note, while he was lying in the hospital, he looked over at me and said, "Honey, I think we should tell friends and folks about that "Registry Thing".

On Thursday April 20th 2006, a family called NOKR from Milwaukee, Wisconsin and indicated that a family member of theirs was found unconscious in his California home due to a stroke. A neighbor had found the unconscious man's NOKR registration card attached to his refrigerator. This card prompted the family to call NOKR. NOKR promptly put the calling family member in touch with the Milwaukee Sheriff's Department. Within an hour NOKR was contacted by the Milwaukee Sheriff's Department. In minutes NOKR verified the calling agency and provided them access to the National registry. With this access the Sheriff's Department was able to view the unconscious person’s NOKR file and determined there were additional family members the victim listed to notify.

I must say that of all the government agencies I have contacted in the past that, your organization has surpassed my highest expectations.

You have made a woman who was in a rather frenzied state, rest a little easier knowing that she has been able to make contact with her husband’s children when time was of the essence.

My sincere appreciation and I am sure Mary would say the same, goes out to all who are working in this group.

I hope that you will forward this letter of thanks to all involved and I would appreciate you passing this letter along to the people who are responsible for administering such a useful and helpful tool to the public.

You should be proud of how fast and efficiently you and your group have replied to this request and actually gone above the call of duty by contacting the parties involved to help a lady in her time of distress.

On Saturday evening, January 16, 2005, I opened the first bill that had come from Weiss Memorial Hospital for my brother, Jim Cooper.  It read:           

            December 17, 2004

            CRITICAL CARE, FIRST HOUR, $681.00

            INSERT EMERGENCY AIRWAY, $426.00 

Jim had moved to the city for a fresh start in the summer and we had not heard much from him.  He was never a great communicator and we often spoke about how "Oh, he's fine, he's just busy."  Besides, we told our mother, if something ever happened to him, someone would be sure to let us know. 

The following morning, Sunday, January 17, 2005, after church, I called Weiss Memorial to inquire if my brother was still there.  After being transferred many times, an ICU secretary bluntly told me that Jim had died a month ago, December 17, 2004.  Stunned, I asked, "Where is he now?" and my call was transferred to Admitting where I discovered that Jim was indeed still there  . . . downstairs in their morgue.  Horrified, I said we would come into the city in the morning. 

The next day, Monday, my sister Teresa and her husband John, my husband and I drove into Weiss Memorial.  The manager of Admitting took us into a small office and asked, "What do you know?"  Huh?  We really didn't know anything.  He kept telling us that he couldn't share any information with us.  Dumbfounded by his muteness, we pleaded for someone else we might talk with.  We were walked upstairs to a prayer room, to wait. 

After a long time, a Nursing Executive arrived and announced that she wouldn't be of much help either but then proceeded to ask "What do you know?"  By this time my heartbreak and frustration overflowed.  Their lack of compassion, almost indifference, was stunning.  Why were we so unwelcome?  Their only concern was, "What do you know?"  How could we know anything?  That's what we were there for. 

We asked if there was some place where we could get some water, sit and talk.  We just really wanted to connect with someone and piece things back together.  We were devastated.  After being warned about the appearance of a month old body, John went to the morgue.  He identified the body and collected Jim's belongings.  We kept asking, "How could this happen?"  "What really happened?"  The circular explanation offered was that the death certificate was not satisfactory to the Medical Examiners office, that the doctor was on family medical leave, that the Medical Examiner wouldn't take the body because of the error and since the ME never got the body.  And they really couldn't say much more.  Apparently the death certificate was still incomplete at that time. 

Hoping to meet and speak with someone who had actually cared for my brother, we returned to the hospital three different times before eventually going away broken.   It was just too painful and too confusing.  On the last visit we finally saw Jim's doctor.  She said she had never met my brother and only spoke with the hospital by phone and didn't complete the first death certificate until two weeks after he had died.   

Jim had been working at running the kitchens (and staying) at a homeless shelter near Weiss Memorial.  He was brought to the hospital, unconscious and never able to speak for himself and it appears that he had no advocate at Weiss.  Inside his wallet, along with his drivers license and other ID was a list of family names and phone numbers.  While they took the time to check his ID for a billing address, his date of birth and social security number, they must have never looked any further.  Perhaps, assuming he was homeless too.  I must say, even homeless folks have hurting families who love them.  Jim was admitted to the ER at six in the morning and died about 9 in the evening.  All through that long day, none of the family listed in his wallet nor anyone where he was working and living was contacted.   Somebody could have been there with him and that hurts.  And what about stashing a body in the basement for a month?  Does that happen a lot? 

Mistakes happen every day and the first person who assumed, "He must just be a homeless guy" made a horrible mistake.  I can forgive that.  However, dozens of people must have had the opportunity to correct that mistake and did not.  "Doesn't this guy have any family?"  "Are you sure?" 

We do not know what kind of medical care Jim received.  "Adequate", is what we guess, and we are grateful for that.  Sadly, we will never really know. 

In 1997, my 28-year-old son died at the guest quarters at March Air Force Base, CA. He was a California Army National Guardsman, and as such he was eligible to stay at military guest quarters when traveling, but not on duty. Unknown to the Guard and almost everyone but a few of his friends my son had been diagnosed with Type 1 Insulin Dependent Diabetes about a year before his death. He had not taken his insulin because if it had been detected that he was a diabetic on insulin he would have been discharged from the Guard that he so dearly loved. He went into cardiac arrest and died secondary to diabetic ketoacidosis. The Riverside County coroner is supposed to inform the next of kin and when they found out that my son did not have his mother or father (we are divorced) listed on his military records they did nothing. Two days after his death an investigator from the Air Force tracked me down.
 
Had this man not cared that my son had a proper burial, I may not have known for years that he was dead because my son had not been in contact with me or his father for six years. Boys exert their independence sometimes in the hardest ways on Moms. National Guard members don't get buried in the National Cemetery until they have 20-years nowadays, so it was vital that his Mother be found. I now live alone. I registered with NOKR. I would not want my mother, or my surviving children to not know for any period of time my whereabouts.