One of the vendors at my Farm Market today is wearing a T-shirt from Modern Farmer -- a magazine and more: "​the authoritative resource for today’s cutting-edge food producers and consumers: the farmers, wannabe farmers, chefs, and passionate home cooks who are influencing the way we eat right now."

 “Jean” was his name at the migrant camp; to us at the Hospital he was officially “John Doe.”

 He had fallen out of an apple tree while picking fruit at a large nearby orchard, and was comatose when brought to our Emergency Department.

After testing, it was learned Jean had suffered a massive stroke, and his condition rapidly deteriorated to critical, requiring ventilator support to survive.

His physicians guestimated Jean to be in his mid-70’s but his crew leader and fellow workers knew nothing of his present or past. We were told French Creole was his primary language, and he had traveled from Florida for the last several years to pick in the orchards in our area.

Jean was said to be ‘a hard worker.”  His few belongings shed no light on his life.  A small pink, plastic Tinkerbelle wallet we found in his pocket gave us no clues; only a small amount of cash and a scrap of paper with the name “Melba” and a Florida phone number on it.  Melba was thought to be his sister by his co-workers, but multiple calls to the phone number were fruitless; no one claimed to know her or our John Doe.

After a week of continued deterioration in his condition and no positive response to all our efforts for recovery, Jean’s physicians removed ventilator support and he quietly died in our critical care unit.

The staff and physicians who cared for him were disturbed by the fact that not one visitor/ family member came to Jean's bedside during his brief stay to express interest or concern in his well being.  

Why was more not known about him after several years of seasonal picking in a local orchard?  Was he an undocumented worker? Why was Jean's life, and death, apparently so anonymous?

• Bonnie L. Rabold, BA, RN.