Episode 22: Hazards of a Coroner: Dr. Kohr’s Stories from the Edge of Danger
From roach-infested apartments to explosive industrial accidents, Dr. Roland Kohr recalls the hidden risks of a life in death investigation.
The unseen dangers at every scene
For most, a crime scene conjures images of detectives and evidence tape. For Dr. Roland Kohr, former Vigo County Coroner and longtime forensic pathologist, it meant stepping into environments as hazardous as they were tragic. “Of course you worry about what you’re exposing yourself to, the filth, potential bacterial growth, what you might bring home with you,” he says. His routine often included stripping down in the garage, bagging contaminated clothes, and showering immediately before setting foot inside his own house.
Insects were a common hazard. At one case, cockroaches covered the scene so heavily that police tucked their pants into their socks to keep the pests from crawling up their legs. For Dr. Kohr, such conditions were more than unsettling; they carried the risk of spreading disease, infesting his own home, or worse.
The toll of stairs, heights, and confined spaces
Sometimes the danger wasn’t contamination but the physical strain of reaching the dead. After an accident involving “elevator surfing,” Kohr had to climb 11 flights of stairs, twice, because he’d forgotten his flash attachment in the car. In another case, an explosion at a coal gasification plant forced him up five exposed flights of metal stairs to document mangled remains in a cage-like structure. “It would have been possible to fall over the rails and plummet to my death,” he admits. Wind and cold only added to the misery, with nothing but a paper hazmat suit to stave off the chill.
Heat could be just as punishing. Called to an attic where a young woman had barricaded herself with a shotgun, Dr. Kohr found himself working in conditions that easily reached 120 to 130 degrees. With sweat pouring off him, he had to attach a rope to the victim’s ankle and drag her body through the narrow access port, a task he still remembers as one of the most physically miserable of his career.
Chemicals, acid, and the threat of traps
Other hazards were chemical. In a notorious case, a body was discovered in a barrel of hydrochloric acid after a drug deal gone wrong. Responders feared the barrel might be booby-trapped. “The scene reminded [a volunteer fire chief] of meth labs he’d found in the woods,” Dr. Kohr recalls. The team tied a rope around the barrel, retreated 50 feet behind an oak tree, and yanked from cover to see if anything would explode. Even once it was secure, the fumes and caustic risks posed ongoing threats. “Hydrochloric acid can interact with other things causing clouds of chlorine gas,” Dr. Kohr notes.
When the job leaves scars
Not all hazards were avoidable. On a winter case in an abandoned coal strip pit, Dr. Kohr slipped on a frosty slope while searching for missing bones and tore his left ACL and meniscus. Surgery followed, along with permanent restrictions: no basketball, no twisting sports. “That’s the worst injury I ever had as a result of being the coroner,” he says. The accident pushed him toward cycling as a safer way to stay fit, an ironic reminder of how the job reshaped even his personal life.
A career marked by risk
Over the course of nearly 8,000 autopsies, Dr. Kohr has been nicked by scalpels, stuck by needles, and exposed to fluids. Yet he counts himself lucky: no serious infectious disease, no catastrophic accident—just scars, stories, and a rebuilt knee. “There are job hazards,” he reflects. “And that’s one of the things I kind of learned the hard way.”
For listeners of Kohroner Chronicles, his recollections are more than grim tales—they’re a reminder of the hidden costs of the work. The coroner’s duty, after all, isn’t just about the dead. It’s also about what the living must risk to tell the truth about death.