Frequently in this column I like to make connections between seemingly unconnectable things. Well, here I go again. Follow along.
My calendar says it’s almost Halloween, and with that comes thoughts of ghosts, ghouls, and goblins.
That reminds me of one of my favorite shows, Ghost Adventures. If you’re not familiar with it, host Zak Bagans and his crew of intrepid paranormal investigators lock themselves into allegedly haunted locations overnight, challenge whatever’s in there to show itself, and capture a lot of jerky night-vision footage in the process. The “evidence” gets analyzed, the shadows get chased, and everyone speaks in the sort of hushed, dramatic tones that make you believe the spirits might actually be listening. Bagans is clearly into his role as a ghost hunter and a devoted fan of all things macabre, so much so that he has opened a museum dedicated to creepy curiosities in Las Vegas.
It’s called Zak Bagans’ The Haunted Museum, and it’s exactly what it sounds like. Bagans took a 1938 mansion just off the Las Vegas Strip, filled it with more than thirty rooms of allegedly haunted and cursed objects, and opened the doors in 2017. The collection includes the Dybbuk Box (billed as “the world’s most haunted object”), Peggy the Doll, the rocking chair that inspired The Conjuring 3, and even the chair from Michael Jackson’s death room. You know, your standard Vegas family attraction.
One of the pieces in his collection is the van used by famous, or perhaps infamous, Dr. Jack Kevorkian, who, if you need a bit of a refresher, was known as “Dr. Death.” Kevorkian was a Michigan pathologist who became one of the most polarizing figures in American medicine. Beginning in 1990, he built devices like the “Mercitron” and helped more than 130 terminally ill patients end their lives, often in that very van. He was charged several times but kept beating the rap, until 1999, when he essentially dared prosecutors to act after 60 Minutes aired a videotape of one of his procedures. He was convicted of second-degree murder, served eight years in prison, and died in 2011, forever a Rorschach test for where we draw the line between mercy and medicine.
The pharmaceutical industry has always put improving health, lengthening life, and curing disease at the top of its priorities, and I honestly believe the industry is made up of people who devote their lives to that mission. Of course, there are always a few bad actors (Pharma Bro, I’m looking at you) who can tarnish the image. But by and large, the mission to improve health holds fast.
Which is where I now turn to the more macabre: end of life.
While there are many drugs to make the end of life easier and less painful, the fundamental problem of deciding when to end life is a topic and a decision few want to address. Sure, many people have living wills, which is a huge help. My mother had one, and it helped immensely with her end-of-life decisions. But for those who don’t, what is the merciful way to end suffering?
Animal health is different. Pets are family, and we do everything for them. And when it comes time to mercifully let them go, we can. Believe me, I just went through this, and it is not an easy decision. But I couldn’t let a family member suffer any longer. Why can’t we do that for family members of the human variety?
So yes, I’m sad. But I take comfort in the thought that my little buddy has made her trip over the Rainbow Bridge. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll get a visit from her in spirit form.
I should get Zak Bagans and his Ghost Adventures team here to film the whole thing.
Mike Auerbach
Group Editor-In-Chief
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