by Donna Swagerty Shreve
Ernie had requested if he could scatter his dear friend Ron Boone’s ashes. He had his own boat and he knew of a place where they had enjoyed fishing together. Ernie was actually Ron’s step brother and considered Ron his brother. Melva, Ron’s sister was very willing for Ernie to have the honors. Ron had recently died and did not want any service. Ernie went out by himself without his wife or Ron’s sister.
Ernie carefully maneuvered his boat to where he thought was a good place to scatter Ron. When he had opened the urn, he went to the back of the boat to let Ron go. The day was a bit breezy and there was just enough wind to send Ron’s ashes right back to Ernie. Ernie now had the need for a shower. Ernie related this tale to Melva and she passed it along as a cautionary tale.
Previously Floyd, Melva’s husband, and Grant, her son, had been scattered in the Pacific Ocean off San Francisco by the funeral service. No family member was involved and we just had to trust that the scattering was done as advertised. There was a bit of a scandal concerning the mortuary involved a few years after the scattering of Floyd and Grant’s ashes. We have to believe they were scattered as requested.
Jack Shreve, officially John C. Shreve, was kept in an urn on a shelf in the garage. John Jr., the oldest son, asked his mother while visiting to El Paso, what she was planning on doing with her husband’s remains. She brought him into the house and set him on a shelf in a guest bedroom. I asked my two sons what it was like spending the night with grandpa. They were not thrilled when they realized who had been sharing the bedroom with them. Finally after another visit or two, Bennette decided it was time for an official release of Jack’s ashes. The siblings discussed where their father had enjoyed living and it was agreed that he had an enjoyable time at the Stockton Field Annex where he was in charge of the local National Guard. The family had lived in government housing and lived there for five years.
John happened to have a friend who was a pilot and owned his own plane out at Stockton Field. The only daughter, Adele, now had possession of her father’s ashes. At an agreed date, she and her family drove up to Stockton from San Diego with the ashes. I was teaching an archaeology unit at the time and had homemade framed screens we used to sift through well seeded digs. I brought one home for our task.
Meanwhile John made a special device to scatter the ashes without filling the plane with ashes. He used a large PVC tube with a valve to release or stop the flow. Adele did the honors of sifting the ashes. The rest of us gathered around to watch. Unbeknownst to us human ashes can have bone fragments scattered throughout. Adele carefully removed these and placed them aside to be saved for later.
The local airport requires all pilots to state the purpose of their flights and the tower opens at 6:00 A.M. The family group arrived at the airport at 5:30 so the plane could take off without lying or revealing the flight plans. There was only room in the plane for a limited number so Tim, the pilot, was joined by Adele and John. The rest of us watched from the ground. We could not see actual ashes being dispersed but when they landed, the tube was empty. They had left parts of Jack over the annex buildings and the runway. We found out later that Tim had had to clean ashes from the interior of his plane. Whoops! The scattering went well and Tim was able to land his plane without the tower knowing all the details of his flight.
We all headed back to our home and had a big breakfast with mimosa toasts to Jack. Now Adele had some ashes and John still had some ashes. John decided he wanted to scatter the rest of his at what was then known as Camp Roberts. It was located in a hilly area near Monterey. It was now a C.I.A. training facility and heavily protected. When John arrived on his motorcycle, he sensed it was not the old Camp Roberts. There were multiple guards dressed for combat with assault rifles standing behind K-rail concrete barriers. He approached the first guard at the gate. As the guard gazed at John with suspicion, he explained that he had come to Camp Roberts as a kid with his father for National Guard training. He also mentioned he wanted to scatter some ashes. The guard had John wait as he got in contact with a superior. This individual explained that he could not allow John entry to the facility. Then he paused and asked John to follow him. He took John to some bushes just on the exterior of the compound. He signaled to John that he could do his scattering here. First, however, he wondered if John did not mind but could he see the ashes as he was very curious what they looked like. He then stood there while John scattered the rest of the ashes. They walked back to the gate and John got on his motorcycle and drove home.
Elsie Swagerty Burton knew she had limited time left. She had colon cancer and the doctors had done all they could. She made arrangements with the Neptune Society to spare Harry, her husband, some of the final arrangements. She had a lovely funeral in the Methodist Church in San Jose where she had spent many a Sunday with her family. She had left Harry with a request after she was gone. She wanted her ashes scattered and buried among the roses at the Rosicrucian Center in San Jose where she had volunteered for several years. Harry wanted her buried in the Burwood Cemetery in Escalon where her parents, grandparents and sister were buried. Harry now lived in Modesto and wanted to be able to visit her grave. About two weeks after Elsie’s service, Harry received a heavy box from the Neptune Society. Elsie was now in his care.
He called his children and asked their advise. Tom, his second child, lived in San Jose and agreed to help him fulfill Elsie’s wishes. Harry drove from Modesto to San Jose with Elsie’s remains in tow. Tom and Harry first did a surveillance of the Rosicrucian complex. Somehow they figured out that the guard did his rounds every 45 minutes. The next day just as the sun was setting, the two men grabbed their shovels and the box and quickly went to work. Elsie’s ashes made it to several rose bushes and now time was running out and Harry was quite nervous about being caught. The men returned to Tom’s truck and returned to Tom’s home. The box still had plenty of ashes still in the container. Harry decided to drive home that night with the rest of Elsie with him.
The next morning Mary, Tom’s wife, asked Tom what was in the bed of his truck. Tom looked at some spilled ashes and calmly replied that is was parts of his mother. Tom carefully swept up all that he could and buried the ashes in his backyard.
Harry went to the Burwood cemetery and made arrangements for a plot for Elsie where he planned to join her when it was his time. Harry then was able to take his lawn chair and visit Elsie when he wanted.
Melva Boone Swagerty had made all of the arrangements she could before she died. She had listed all of her preferences and had even prepaid . Melva wanted her remains to be cremated and scattered at sea like her husband and son. Donna, her daughter stored her ashes in the guest room for about a year. Because Melva had been married to a Navy officer, she was entitled to a Navy burial or scattering at sea. Fortunately her grandson Shannon was in the Coast Guard who did the honors of ocean scattering for Coast Guard and Navy veterans. Shannon took care of all of the paperwork and all Donna had to do was provided some documents.
The date for the scattering of her ashes was fluid because the Coast Guard Cutter’s first priority is actual emergencies. The original date was moved forward a week and if no emergencies came up, the scattering was going to happen. Shannon, his brother Jesse and now wife Eve plus Donna and John were in attendance. We traveled to Treasure Island and reported to the 87 foot Sockeye cutter. We were the only ones scheduled for that day and felt quite lucky and special. Off we went under the Golden Gate bridge. The commanding officer of the cutter came over to Donna and asked if the coordinates of Floyd and Grant’s burial were known. He was actually going to try to duplicate the coordinates. Nice gesture.
A team of Coast Guard sailers gathered on the back deck to hold a ceremony. A religious preference of Protestant had already been established and the actual service was lovely and very professional. Then one of the sailors went to the stern and got ready to scatter. The boat had been stalled and backed into the current. After she scattered the remains, the crew cleared the stern and left us to ourselves and we were told we could as much time as we needed. I had brought roses and we all scattered the roses on the ashes as the ashes slowly drifted away.
To my surprise the ceremonies were not over. We headed back to the Golden Gate bridge and instead of heading to Treasure Island we headed to McCovey Cove. Melva was quite a Giants baseball fan and had spent many an afternoon in the stadium by McCovey Cove. Donna was on the bridge with the navigator. She asked the helmsman was she a baseball fan? No, she wasn’t but she was in McCovey Cove as requested by a fellow Coast Guard sailor, Shannon Swagerty. I am sure Melva would have appreciated the gesture.
I have asked my boys to have me cremated and then scattered in Ashland, Oregon where I have spent some very happy moments throughout the years. I leave exactly where up to their discretion, but if they could, I felt it appropriate that some of me to be done near the yarn shop. After the scatter, I want them to get a drink and give me proper toast as my sendoff.
Swagerty-Aldrich Family Web Site 