What if death was your constant companion? What if your memories were filled with real-life horrific images most people don’t even see in their worst nightmares?
Meet Joseph Scott Morgan, former death investigator. Everyday was a funeral for him. What others tried to forget, it was Morgan’s job to remember; to study, understand, and memorialize into official record.
Whoever said “men don’t cry” hadn’t stood in the pouring rain, holding the charred arm of human being after more than 20 years of answering Death’s every beck and call.
Joseph Scott Morgan‘s ended not with a bang but more like a whimper when a dance with death on an Atlanta bridge was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.
But somehow Morgan kept his sense of humor through it all as evidenced in his recently released memoir Blood Beneath My Feet: The Journey of a Southern Death Investigator.
Between the covers of this fascinating look into life with the Grim Reaper, readers will be reminded why our war veterans aren’t the only ones with psychological scars with tainted memories even Hollywood can’t fully recreate. Yet Morgan takes it all in stride as he pulls forth the memories of a Louisianan upbringing with a beautiful Mama (no – not Mother, Mom, or Momma but Mama), a God-fearing grandmother whom he calls Pearl, and a brutal stepfather who, in the name of Jesus, made him tougher than Tarzan’s feet and prepared him for a two-decade career at which most people wouldn’t last more than a year.
With only 150 pages, I was surprised as the gamut of emotion I felt; one minute I’d be busting a gut laughing and the next I’d have tears streaming down my face.
Blood Beneath My Feet isn’t strictly true crime. It’s a memoir of a veteran investigator who worked the stories we true crime fans usually read about – and they’re obviously sugar coated, whether we believe it or not. Joseph Scott Morgan isn’t trying to elicit sympathy or going for shock value, he’s just telling it like it is and to read it is like listening to someone tell an extremely detailed story – on a humid Sunday afternoon, sitting on the front porch, after a couple of cold beers have loosened everyone up enough to understand sometimes the only thing we can do about the tragedies of life (and death) is accept them and move onward.
For more information about Joseph Scott Morgan, visit www.josephscottmorgan.com.
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