Saturday, March 18, 2017



Okay, you saw it, right?

I told you I wasn't lying, or even stretching the truth... Couldn't if I wanted to. Too many other people who were also here that night are reading it. They tell me if I'm off. And I defer to their judgment.

I'm not just a bitter uncle driven mad by grief or whatever else... I've also managed to stumble over something so awful and rotten that my initial reflex was to recoil and retch.

Right here in my hometown. After all the places I've been, all the things I've seen, this is truly the least believable, and the most alarming.

And I'm not letting it go.

After what has already been uncovered, I don't feel the least bit concerned about what people might think, or about how far I should go with these mere words, these paltry paragraphs. I'm not the one who worries about that now...

Because you know there's more.

pH 3.18.17


Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Mendacity 101


The following letter to my sister was written on WMed stationery, but never sent, by Kalamazoo County Medical Examiner Dr. Joyce L. deJong. It is a living testimony to her naked dishonesty and her malicious intentions where my nephew's cause-of-death determination is concerned.


April 21, 2016

To Mrs. Heller:

The opinion of the Medical Examiner's office for the cause and manner of death in the case of Dennis Wolf will go unchanged. This decision is based on a complete evaluation of additional information, including numerous personal letters from various friends and family members of the decedent, Kalamazoo Department of Public Safety police report and interviews conducted by Detective Goodell, a review of the Medical Examiner investigative report with the investigator, blogs provided by Paul Heller, emails and internet links provided by Mrs. Heller, and letters and emails provided by (our attorney).


Joyce deJong, D.O.
Medical Examiner


Quickly, line by line:

"The opinion of the Medical Examiner's office for the cause and manner of death in the case of Dennis Wolf will go unchanged."

I bet you're wrong about that, since Michigan law (per Rules 7.119 and 7.123) does allow for an appeal to be presented to the Michigan Circuit Court; of course this letter will be introduced as well.

"This decision is based on a complete evaluation of additional information, including numerous personal letters from various friends and family members of the decedent..."

You're a damn fine liar, lady. We already know that you were still asking Lyin' Jo Catania if she had those letters in June of 2016, two months after you typed up this bag of liquid crap.

"... Kalamazoo Department of Public Safety police report and interviews conducted by Detective Goodell..."

Lie Number Two. We know through the MDIlog that your henchman, Lyin' Jo, did not even approve the mailing out of the police records until May 2, 2016, so you could not have even seen them yet. Keep going:

"... a review of the Medical Examiner investigative report with the investigator..."

That would be Kai Cronin, who you already knew had made up the suicide circumstances listed in his amateurish report, because our attorney sat across from Lyin' Jo and made her aware of it in person FIVE WEEKS before you bothered with this thoughtful, well-written note... His report is as false today as it was then, as false as it was on the day you sent him to my sister's house to steal her son's body. 

"... blogs provided by Paul Heller..."

It's not 'blogs'. It's a blog, singular, containing many blog posts. You're welcome. I'm the only male human being who has thought about you in recent history (unless you count David Ferris).

It'd be pointless to dignify such grotesque cynicism any further in this space - hers or mine. Joyce, you mendacious [REDACTED], you did the wrong thing. Like a narcissistic sociopath, you refuse to make it right, even in the face of the facts.

Even in the face of a grieving community. Which you were appointed to serve.

Please stop pretending to be a good person. You are not. Good people don't violate the public trust. They don't conspire to torment the citizens who pay for the autopsies they are so desperate to perform on the bodies of children. They don't weave these elaborate webs of obfuscation and then sit in the middle of all the strands pretending not to be a bloodsucking monster. 

Quit. Resign. Please pack up and move out of our town. Our county. Our state. Please do this post-haste. You, your perverse colleagues and Homer Stryker's farcical medical "school" are neither wanted nor needed in Kalamazoo any longer.

pH 3.14.17


Thursday, March 2, 2017



My sister dreams about Charlie a lot.

The key word in the above sentence, is, of course, "about". Her deceased son, you see, is seldom directly in contact with her during the dreams (as she often reports them to me over morning coffee).

Dreams are different from nightmares, which she also has, but doesn't much talk about. She doesn't have to, as they are probably similar to my own, only more vivid as her mind races through it all again. The police cars. The chest compressions. The electrodes. The breather bag. All in vain.

The dream that recurs quite frequently is pretty basic in format. She's at a family gathering (we have a lot of those), and everything is fine, because Charlie is off playing among his many cousins.

He's wherever they are - maybe she sees his bushy lollipop head disappear around a corner, or hears the chirp of his voice, or one of the other kids runs up and tattles about something Charlie just did.

As long as it doesn't dissatisfy her sleep-state brain, that's an okay dream. But if anything in the dream causes her concern, she tries to find him, and is unable to. That usually ends the dream and troubles her back to consciousness. I suppose it doesn't take a certified dream analyst to figure out what it means.

I hope that you cannot imagine what she feels. Even if you wanted to, you'd have to compound her grief and loss by the wrongdoings of our local Liars Club: M.E. Joyce deJong, Investigators Joanne Catania and Kai Cronin, and WMed Deans Hal Jenson and Tom Zavitz. These are the monsters under your bed, the ones who have conspired to perpetuate the abominable falsehood that appears on my nephew's death certificate.

Unlike the many kind souls who have donated their time and money to Charlie's charity, the above entities have collectively exhibited little more humanity than a warm block of processed cheese spread.

After all these years, it turns out the Heller family had the misfortune of being in a place where the crooked coroner has all the power, where the county lawyers are practically lapdogs who lick her rubber-glove-scented hands, where even the County Commissioners seem beset by paralysis, and where the media knows its proper place - up on Coward's Hill.

So you'll understand when I assure you that on some nights my sister doesn't want to go to sleep. And on some mornings she doesn't want to wake up.

pH 3.o2.16


Sunday, February 5, 2017



I awake from a dead sleep to the darkness of night. Under different circumstances, I would take my time doing so, but that is a luxury long since foresaken.

Somebody else is in the room.

My hand grabs the lamp on the nightstand in utilitarian immediacy, poised to hit the switch (to illuminate whoever it is) and poised also to hit whoever it is.

But it's only Mick, the mechanic, who passed away just over a year ago. He is likely unimpressed by my display of nocturnal aggression, as he is fixated on one of my electric guitars, which he holds in his mighty paws.

"Hey, man," I mumble to my friend as I put down the lamp, "Happy Birthday."

Mick runs through the pentatonic scale in A, punctuated with a big power chord crunch, and puts the instrument back on its stand.

Thanks. Nice guitar.

"The Hondo," I tell him. "One of your unfinished projects. I had Guitar Center wire in a new harness, pick guard, jack, the works."

This is the one I put the Faraday cage in, right?

"Yep. You wanna plug in?"

No, I'm supposed to stay away from distortions in the electromagnetic field.

Something tells me that the ghost of my dear friend did not appear before me just to check out the old Hondo with the new guts.

The Big Game is today.

"It is. I think New England will win by turning back the clock 40 years. Atlanta has a middling run defense (in a division with zero quality backs and in a season where they held large leads in most of their games). The Falcons offense can't score if they're standing on the sidelines, watching the Patriots play Five Yards and a Cloud of Dust all night."

You put any money on it?

"Ah, no." I suspect, however, that he isn't here to talk about football, either. He is looking straight at me in the lamplight, his expression winsome, an odd look for Mick.

How is your sister?

"How is she what? Still alive? I don't know... I'm not sure."

How is she doing.

"Better on some days than others." I figure being vague will force him to engage more.

Well, what's going on with the case? It's been a long time. Is it wrapping up or what? You still banging that monkey?

"No. I'm supposed to stay away from distortions in the electromagnetic field."

Mick shakes his head and I notice he's wearing his Galesburg Ford hat.

The lengthy delays are designed to sap your will to continue.


You're sure you guys got this?

"Hope so. Why, do you have some way of impelling this thing from The Other Side?"

Mick the Mechanic turns and looks over his shoulder, as if someone were standing behind him, and that's when I notice his ponytail. He got his hair back... He looks at me again, his expression very serious.

No. And that's what you need to understand.

"Got it. Anything else?"

Yeah. You both need to live more. Not just longer, but more. Know what I mean? Do the things I wish I could do. Let the dead live vicariously through you. Not the other way around.

He looks at the Hondo again. I look at the floor. The wooden floor where I used to play Army Men with Charlie. It's not a comfortable moment, or a short one.

I can't believe you, Heller.

I look up, almost angry now. "What?"

Mick nods at the guitar.

Can't believe you couldn't solder that harness in yourself. I showed you how.

Finally, I laugh. "Oh, man, I'm terrible at it." Finally, Mick laughs too.


I awake from a dead sleep to the darkness of night. Under different circumstances, I would take my time doing so, but that is a luxury long since foresaken. 

Nobody else is in the room.

pH o2.o5.17


Monday, January 16, 2017

Under the Bus


Hey, now... Here's a leftover news item, a digital turkey leg if you will, that might interest you. It certainly interests me.

This is a link  to a December 29, 2016 article, which explains nicely the horrific wrongdoing of Defendant Joyce deJong. It tells how a city government and a county medical examiner in northern Michigan settled out of court with David Ferris II - much to the local tax base's chagrin.

Plaintiff Ferris is just a little bit put out by deJong's dishonest testimony in his case - work so slipshod that its very existence was enough for the prosecutor to drop all charges. False witness was borne against this man, the label of Baby Killer affixed to his name, his reputation.

This caused him to be deprived of his liberty for 97 days. It got him (and his wife) placed on the Michigan Child Abuse Registry. It forced him to endure death threats, which made him pack up his things and leave town.

His wife, in the midst of grieving the loss of her child, also became a target for some of the most vulgar online abuse imaginable. That is perhaps the most disturbing tangent to the Ferris story, the howling, ignorant masses with their cyber pitchforks and LED torches, purveyed by the web's most cynical (and click-craving) masters. I'd link you to one of them, so you could dip your toes in the raw sewage... But you'd no doubt get a virus.

They settled for cheap, the Cadillac cops ($190,000) and the Wexford County ME ($60k), they really did. And they left deJong out in the cold. For her, after what she did, there should be no settlement. Her punishment should be greater than her tolerance for such. Why?

Because she violates, routinely, the very oath of Hippocrates: "First, Do No Harm." She's been doing it for the bulk of her career, an uncaring maniac wielding a scalpel.

In principle, what she did to Dave Ferris is the same thing she did to my family, other families. She takes something unimaginably horrible, plays with it in her clammy little hands, and fictitiously turns it into something even worse - for the record.

For these egregious, serial violations of the public trust, Joyce deJong ought to be in jail. She sure as Hell doesn't deserve to keep a professional license of any kind.

Nobody I know disagrees: This has to be stopped. She has to be stopped. Now.

And just like it went down up North, it doesn't just reflect poorly on WMed, and on Kalamazoo County, the fact that they both continue to employ this monstrosity...

It also makes them complicit.

pH o1.16.17


Wednesday, January 11, 2017



On Feb 2, 2016 6:34 PM, "Joanne M Catania" wrote:

To Mrs. Heller, 

Thank you for calling and talking with me. I truly appreciate how much courage it took for you to call me. I am sorry for the roadblocks or frustrations you encountered through this very traumatic experience. I would like to have further dialogue in hopes that our office can offer some peace in this time of grief. Please send the letter we discussed. Talk with you soon,

Jo Catania MPA, D-ABMDI


On March 18, 2016 3:30 PM, "theresa heller" wrote:

Dear Jo,

Thank you so much for meeting me today. I hope I didn't seem rude. I'm afraid I'm more like a robot than a human being right now. I just know my son would never ever have taken himself away from us. I hope that between the Legacy post and these letters, you will get to know him and see this for yourself. Thank you again, take care.


From: "theresa heller" 4/19/2016 7:24:29 PM

To: Joanne M Catania

It's been almost 9 months since my son passed. Instead of continuing to play games, just give me the answer. Is my son's death record going to be corrected or not? It's a very simple question.

Theresa Heller, MA


On Wed, Apr 20, 2016 at 2:56 PM -0700, "Thomas E Zavitz" wrote:


See attached. I will fill you in tomorrow. We need to coordinate with you, joyce hal and myself.  Z


Then the coroner and her peons got tired of my sister's "behavior". And they said, in petulant exasperation, "we are DONE." And they said the case was closed. Within 10 days of me writing about it, they discussed taking legal action against Yours Truly.

They lied about a peer review that was to take place but never did. They lied about having based their phoney decision on police reports that they didn't even request until the following May. They lied about "wrapping up" an investigation that never even took place, because if it did, they were bound by law to turn it over as part of our FOIA request...

Like the above emails.

I wish I could tell you the Russians were behind the leaking of WMed's and Kalamazoo County's emails, because their words and actions have much more in common with Vladimir Putin's government than they do with mine.

In the spirit of Wiki, I'll be happy to dump the entire contents of our FOIA request, but I'm no hacker. These are public records, and you will be able to read all of them in short order.

But not here, Pilgrim... 


pH o1.11.17


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