Title

Robert (1842-1898)

Abstract

My name was Robert, born around 1842 and I lived in Milwaukee, Wisconsin when I died. I died at 56 years old on July 19, 1898, from pneumonia, a condition that left my lungs inflamed; a terrible way to go out, but not as bad as what they did to my body. Instead of letting me rest after my death, my body was donated to the Milwaukee Medical College for science, and they experimented with me. I must have agreed to this before I died, but I don’t remember.

The only information that can be found about me is from my death certificate in Milwaukee Wisconsin. I was a black sailor, I guess on Lake Michigan, since my death record did not indicate that I was in the military. Was I born into slavery? Where was I born? Who were my parents? 56 years on this earth and it was like I never existed.

But I did help people, and if researching my body and lung condition could help save more people, I didn't mind that at all. After the medical research, I was buried in the Milwaukee poor farm cemetery. It may sound inhumane that my body was used for medical study, but I helped train new doctors and saved future generations. What's inhumane is that after all the struggles I went through, I apparently was not destined to be at peace. The poor farm cemetery has been desecrated by new buildings and roads and several of us in the thousands have been dug up for research, without the consent of their family members. I led a low-key life, but I will not be forgotten.

Note

Fictive Narrative

Date

November 10, 2025

Creator

Ryan, a sophomore in high school