Utah Stories

University of Utah Body Donor Program

Donating a body to science to further the cause of healthcare.

|


DSC_0379
Kerry Peterson of the University of Utah Body Donor Program. Photo by Mark Salgado

The dead help teach the living through the University of Utah Body Donor Program.  

Last year, over 200 individuals chose to donate their bodies to science. Kerry Peterson, who directs the program, said the reason for doing so is unique for each individual, but the common thread is altruism. “We have had a person as young as 13 and as old as 108 donate their bodies.  People see themselves as helping to benefit the health of future generations.”

The U of U program accepts bodies from Utah and surrounding states. It is the cadaver resource center for the Intermountain West. The center will pick up a body within approximately 50 miles, or accept a body within a week after a funeral service. Once on site, the body is prepared with embalming fluids to keep it supple. Now the real work begins. Each semester, four first year medical students are assigned to a body, and last year 31 bodies were used for this purpose. The students need to be diligent. “Four times a year, they have nine minutes to answer 30 anatomy questions,” Peterson said.

Advanced residents and practicing surgeons also return to learn new techniques. In addition, bodies are allocated to schools throughout the region for nursing and EMT classes.

The bodies are used by the program between three months and two years. Afterwards, they are cremated and the cremains are returned to the family. “We have known families to scatter the cremains on the top of Mount Olympus and in the Ganges,” Peterson said. Equally important, the center helps families attend to the business of death by filling out necessary paperwork. “For some people, we have been the family mortuary for generations.” In gratitude, the center holds an annual memorial service in May.

For those interested in donating their body, Peterson said the center assists with all forms. One thing he emphasized is that the bodies are treated with the utmost respect. “We tell the students that one way to show respect is learn as much as they can.”

Kerry Peterson and the Body Donor Program can be contacted at 801-581-6728.

Indigent Burials

The phrase “dead broke” truly applies to those who are deceased and indigent.

Each year nearly 200 persons expire in Salt Lake County who lack means for a burial or cremation. Nicholas Rupp of the County Health Department said they either have no next of kin, the next of kin will not participate or they cannot afford a burial. “About 25 percent of the people have no known relatives,” Rupp said.

The county contracts for its indigent services with Carver Mortuary Service and offers up to $350 towards services for individuals who qualify. Carver, in turn, works with the medical examiner and police to locate relatives. The mortuary keeps the physical body for up to a month while this is occurring. Otherwise, the remains are cremated and stored for up to several years if necessary. Carver is also connected to the Missing in America project, which identifies the remains of cremated veterans and accords them a full military honors burial service.

In the end, however, it does not matter if a person was wealthy or poor when they died. The ashes all look the same.

Carver Mortuary Service is located at 847 West 2500 South.

 



Join our newsletter.
Stay informed.


  • Artist Kate Kilpatrick Brings Utah’s History to Life Through Murals

    “I think we’re all interconnected; as individuals as well as societies,” Kilpatrick notes. Her work showcases those connections exuberantly, and whatever scale she’s working on, you can bet that in terms of energy and spirit, she’s painting large.


  • Why Most People Stay Stuck in Business and What It Takes to Move Forward

    Every so often, you meet an immigrant who came here with almost nothing and managed to build something exceptional.

    Prakash Shah is the kind of man who has spent enough time around risk that he no longer treats it like an interruption.

    Today, he works in business brokerage and advisory, helping owners sell companies, helping buyers decide whether they should step in, and, when the fit is right, helping connect those buyers with private equity. He works in a world of valuations, leverage, due diligence, and hard questions that most people would rather postpone. He also operates in Utah real estate and has built a career around seeing value before it is obvious to everyone else. That is who he is now. What makes him interesting is how early that instinct started to form, and how little his life resembles the way most Americans are raised to think about comfort, career, and security.

    He grew up in Nepal in a boarding school system that would feel severe to many Americans. He was an only child, yet he saw his parents only twice a year for twelve straight years, until high school graduation. He lived inside routine. He shared space with boys from different social classes and different family circumstances. The school was structured enough that money did not buy you any special standing once you were inside. Everyone followed the same rules. Everyone was subject to the same discipline. In his case, it was an army school. Everything was measured. Everything was scheduled. In that kind of environment, you do not build your life around preference. You build it around adaptation.

    That contrast matters.

    A lot of American children are raised to search for what fits them. What are you passionate about? What do you enjoy? What feels right? Those are not bad questions, but they can create a habit of waiting for life to align itself before action begins. Prakash learned something else much earlier. He learned that life often does not align itself first. You enter the room as it is, you deal with the people in it, and you figure out how to function without making your comfort the center of every decision. He said that one of the biggest lessons from those years was tolerance, the ability to live with people from all walks of life and genuinely learn to get along with them. That is not a soft value. In business, it turns into resilience. In negotiation, it turns into patience. In career terms, it turns into range.

    When he came to the United States over 25 years ago, he did not arrive with the kind of runway that allows for a prolonged identity search. He came with two suitcases and enough money for one semester. He went to Hunter College in New York City, then to NYIT near Central Park, studying media and then media and technology management. He also studied psychology. Those details matter because they show something about his mind. He was interested in people before he built a career around deals. Even then, what attracted him was not technical prestige. It was understanding motives, behavior, and how people reveal themselves.

    But New York is merciless toward vague ambition. It demands payment in rent, transit, food, and time.

    Prakash worked constantly. He took multiple jobs. He paid tuition, paid rent, and skipped most of what Americans imagine as college life. There were no romantic years of drifting from café to concert to self-discovery. He talked about not having the luxury of dates, travel, or finding himself. He was working. Even laundry was not a small detail. In New York, he pointed out, you do not just throw clothes in a machine at home. You haul them to the laundromat, count quarters, and measure what is necessary. He also described distraction in a way that most native-born Americans probably do not think about. For immigrants, distraction is not always pleasure. Sometimes distraction is the constant pressure of competing needs. Tuition or rent. Food or savings. A better coat or another month of making do. He was not romanticizing the struggle. He was describing the arithmetic of it.

    That arithmetic did not make him cautious. If anything, it did the opposite.

    While in college, he had the option of safer analytical work. Instead, he took a sales job with Time Warner Cable that sent him into the South Bronx from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. to knock on doors. He is not a physically imposing man. He knew exactly what kind of neighborhoods he was walking into. He described apartment buildings where people kept pit bulls, where tension was normal, where one mistake in tone or timing could end a conversation immediately. For most people, that kind of job would have been something to survive and forget. For him, it became a school in human behavior. “It’s not about talking… it’s about listening,” he said.

    One story from that period says almost everything about how he operates. He knocked on a door one night around 8:45 and found himself facing a huge man with a gun on the table, pit bulls nearby, and a half-eaten pizza in front of him. It had all the ingredients of a very bad scene.

    Continue reading and support independent Utah journalism with a purchase of Utah Stories (Digital + Print) or 3 month free trial (Digital).


  • Ancient Pyramid Discovered in Sugar House Park, Salt Lake City

    A Salt Lake City resident says he may have uncovered what he believes to be a buried structure beneath a well-known hill in Sugar House Park, raising questions that have drawn both curiosity and skepticism.


  • Utah Fits All Scholarship Applications Open Through April 30 for K–12 Students

    Utah families have more learning paths than ever and, increasingly, more ways to make those paths affordable. This spring, the Utah Fits All Scholarship opened  for new family applications on April 1, and the application window stays open for one month. The program is a public K–12 scholarship that provides $4,000 to $8,000 per student,…