Obituary - Rebecca Marlowe

Rebecca Marlowe, 38, died February 19 at her Indianapolis home. Marlowe, who was a sheet metal tech at Hawker Beechcraft and was not in any way famous for a modeling career, was found with a gunshot wound when police responded to a 911 call placed by her boyfriend, Joshua Phillips, 40. She was pronounced dead at the scene. Phillips, who has all of his limbs and is not in any way famous as an athlete, claimed he shot Marlowe accidentally as he brandished a gun to frighten her during an argument. Police arrested Phillips on a preliminary charge of murder. Marlowe's father, Walter Marlowe, said that Phillips and his daughter had long had a contentious, even violent, relationship. "They fought a lot, and I used to beg her to leave him," said a tearful elder Marlowe. "But I never thought in a million years that someone who isn't a famous athlete could ever do this to someone who isn't a famous model. I just never thought this kind of thing happened among regular people. It's not like you ever hear about it."

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Obituary - Brooklynne Palmer

Brooklynne Palmer, 19, died January 12 in Noblesville. Palmer, who was home for the weekend from her freshman year at Purdue University, had spent the day reconnecting with her high school best friend Mackenzie Waller. "We'd been at Hamilton Town Center Mall, like, all day," said Waller. "We were having such a good time. We were just talking and catching up and shopping, shopping, and more shopping. All of a sudden, as we came out of Aeropostale, she just . . . I don't know, she just dropped."

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Obituary - Viktor Polichenko

Viktor I. Polichenko of Indianapolis, 55, was killed February 15 while visiting family in Chelyabinsk, Russia. Polichenko had moved from the central Russian city to Indianapolis in 1983. Here he met and married his wife, Brownsburg native Natalie Walters Polichenko, who survives him along with their two sons Anatoli ("Tony"), 23, and Viktor Jr., 19. Mr. and Mrs. Polichenko had traveled to Chelyabinsk to the home of Polichenko's aunt Irina Kuznetsov because his uncle Alexei had taken gravely ill. Just after dawn on February 15, Viktor and Natalie got into a heated argument. Kuznetsov, speaking through an interpreter, reported that Natalie had accused her husband of cheating on her. "He was outraged that she would accuse him of this," said Kuznetsov. "He said, 'I am innocent. If I am lying, may God send [a] meteor to strike me down where I stand.'" Though hundreds were hurt and many buildings were damaged, Polichenko is the only fatality from the meteor that exploded over Chelyabinsk on February 15.

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Obituary - That Aunt You Never Liked

That Aunt You Never Liked, 87, died January 14 at The Hearth at Windermere Senior Living Community in Fishers. Or was it Hamilton Trace? It's hard to remember; you really haven't cared until it came up just now. With her constant stream of snide comments directed at your mother, her decades of Christmas gifts to you based around a theme that interested you briefly when you were seven, her apparent inability to quite remember your name correctly, and the fetid, nauseating casseroles she used to bring to family gatherings, That Aunt You Never Liked filled your childhood with fond memories . . . well, with vivid memories, at least. Now you will never again hear her raspy, cigarette-choked voice calling you into the kitchen--at a volume 25 decibels higher than necessary--or cackling at her own off-color jokes at your mother's expense. Never more will you scrub her salmon-pink lipstick from coffee cups or from your own cheek. Your extensive collection of that thing that interested you for a while when you were seven will grow no further. Funeral services for That Aunt You Never Liked will be at Randall & Roberts Allisonville Road Chapel on January 18. With your parents at their winter house in Florida and your sister tied up with work and the kids in Oregon, you're the only member of the immediate family who's close by. Don't you think you should go to the funeral--you know, to represent the family? Oh, I know you had your differences with That Aunt You Never Liked, but it's the right and decent thing to do.

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Obituary - Emmet Landis

Note: The concept and most of the content for today's obituary were submitted by a reader. Remember: if you have died, or if you know of a humorous death (fake deaths only, please -- I don't want to be responsible for a spate of tragic, but hilarious, homicides), you can write to The Obituarist at obituaries@theindytribune.com.

Emmet Landis, 36, a fifth grade English teacher at Crooked Creek Elementary School, was struck and killed by a hearse January 17th while walking across Kessler Boulevard with two English department colleagues. The hearse was driven by Flanner and Buchanan assistant funeral coordinator Lewis Ecton, and neither Ecton nor his passenger in the back was injured. Ecton was departing the funeral home to make the short journey to the Washington Park Cemetery when he lost control of the vehicle at the breakneck hearse speed of 15 miles per hour and struck the pedestrians. The other two teachers were nudged aside by the vehicle and were unhurt, but Landis was gradually crushed under both the front and rear tires before Ecton could regain control of the hearse at that speed. Landis is survived by his mother Jean, a dachshund named T.S. Eliot, and his class of 32 fifth grade students, who are currently studying George Orwell's Animal Farm. His colleagues in the English department say he will be remembered as a bright teacher who genuinely cared for his students, though they have not yet decided whether Landis' death is an example of situational irony, cosmic irony, or just an unfortunate coincidence.

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Obituary - Michael Bay

Noted film director and producer Michael Bay, 47, died January 12 in his Los Angeles home. Bay, whose films include Bad Boys I & II, Armageddon, Pearl Harbor, the Transformers franchise, and other beloved modern classics of American cinema, reportedly died quietly in his sleep. Every identifiable shred of Bay's body was not obliterated by thunderous explosions that did not send colossal fireballs blossoming high into the impossibly orange-tinted Los Angeles sky. Polished luxury SUVs did not perform slow-motion somersaults over one another into onrushing traffic on the Vincent Thomas Bridge, and Bay was not thereby crushed under tons of twisted steel and shattered glass. His death was marked by a complete lack of gargantuan alien invaders incinerating him with their incomprehensibly advanced weaponry that did not in fact reduce the famed Bradbury Building and its surrounding downtown environs to a hellish flaming ruin. No cataclysmic natural disaster brought the Griffith Observatory collapsing onto Bay's head, and he was not smashed to a pulp under tons of shattered concrete, steel, and marble. No, Bay--by all accounts a relatively young and relatively fit man--nevertheless died peacefully and without so much as disturbing his impeccably-pressed Italian linen sheets. Funeral arrangements are pending, but sources close to the project have leaked that it will be held at the El Mirage dry lake bed, that I Am Number Four auteur D. J. Caruso is attached to direct, and that five different pyrotechnic teams have been brought in. Bay's Platinum Dunes production company reportedly plans to release Funeral Deadly Funeral in the summer of 2014.

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Obituary - Roger Bolens

Roger Bolens of Indianapolis, 46, died January 11 at Methodist Hospital. Bolens, who was eleven days into his ninth consecutive new year's resolution to get healthy, died of massive organ failure a day after collapsing during a workout. Working with his friend Dave Collins, who holds no professional credentials but by his own estimation "is pretty ripped and totally knows personal training," Bolens was determined to trim his 5'9", 284 pound frame. "It was day 10 of my program," reported Collins. "Most trainers say to start out light and easy and work your way up. I think that's dumb. I mean, you need the most help when you're all big and fat, so I say start at the maximum and ease up as you get to where you want to be." Collins' program had Bolens on 800 calories of food and 256 ounces of water per day, and in the homemade gym in Collins' garage for up to six hours per day. "He was in a lot of pain," admitted Collins, "but I told him that was just weakness leaving his body. So each day we'd spend some time re-working the muscles that hurt the worst from the day before. No pain, no gain, y'know? I'll give him points for determination, that's for sure--especially since he couldn't really lift his arms or walk after the first couple of days." Bolens is survived by his wife Cathy, to whom Collins has offered a discounted rate should she wish to take over her late husband's sessions.

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Obituary - Audrey Campos

Audrey Campos, 45, died January 6 in her Indianapolis home. Ms. Campos, known among her friends for her disdain of forwarded emails and viral Facebook posts, died when she suddenly became ill from a variety of deadly and fast-acting pathogens that had been drawn into the previously-cut onion that she sliced onto her lunch sandwich. The Marion County Coroner's office reports that her system was already severely weakened by poisoning from the chlorine in the baby-cut carrots she ate with her lunch, the formaldehyde in the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser she used to clean up her dishes, the lead in the lipstick she applied afterward, and the mercury from the single CFL lightbulb she dropped and cleaned up. Tragically, Ms. Campos had only narrowly escaped death earlier that day when a group of gang initiates threw eggs at her car windshield so they could rob and murder her. The miscreants' aim was poor, though, and the eggs only blocked her vision 78.3% rather than the potential 92.5%. She was therefore still able to see well enough to drive home. "It's a real tragedy," reported Ms. Campos' high school classmate and Facebook friend Carrie Walters. "If only she'd taken all my posts at face value like I do, instead of applying all that 'reasoning' and 'discernment' nonsense, she might still be alive."

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Obituary - Everyone Outside the Room You're In

Everyone Outside the Room You're In, various ages, just dropped dead just now. Don't look - it's too horrific. Whether because of some government super-virus experiment gone horribly wrong, or some alien death ray, or something completely other, Everyone Outside the Room You're In is now dead. They all just collapsed right where they stood, just a second ago. So I hope you're in a room with people you like, because you and anyone else who happens to be in the same room with you right now are all that remains of the human race. There's no telling why or how you, and any companions you might happen to have right now, survived the total extinction of every other human on Earth. What remains now is to consider how you--and they, if there are any--are going to move forward in a world populated solely by you. Really. Take our word for it; they're all gone. No, no, still don't look just yet. You'll need more time to come to grips with the magnitude and gravity of the situation before you'll be ready to look outside your current room and to experience the horror of seeing all the corpses that died right in the middle of doing whatever it is people do outside the room you're in. Services for Everyone Outside the Room You're In will be . . . well, pretty much whenever you decide they might be. It's up to you now. It's all up to you now.

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Obituary - Hezekiah Bishop

Hezekiah Jacob Bishop, 21, died November 22, 1812 along Wildcat Creek, near Lafayette. Bishop, a member of the Indiana Rangers, was taking part in the Second Tippecanoe Campaign when his party was ambushed in a narrow canyon. Survivor testimony indicated that Bishop's rifle had misfired at a crucial moment, and an onrushing Shawnee warrior was able to stab Bishop in the heart. Letters from Bishop to his family in the Kokomo area over the preceding months indicate that he had been meaning to have his rifle repaired for some time, but he had never gotten around to it. The Indy Tribune obituarist expresses regret over the lateness of this obituary, but the family only submitted the notification this past week. Jack Bishop, Hezekiah's great-great-great-nephew, admitted "We've been meaning to tell the papers about Uncle Hezekiah for a good while now. Yeah, we Bishops, we, uhh... we're procrastinators." Services are pending.

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Obituary - Mr. Gobblepants

Mr. Gobblepants, the turkey poult that Mike Baxter of Indianapolis thought would be a great Thanksgiving gift for his kids, died January 5 in the old-bath-rug-padded cardboard box Baxter had set up in his backyard. At fifteen weeks old, Mr. Gobblepants was nearing maturity and would have been just about ready to move from a grower feed to a finisher feed--if Baxter had the slightest idea how to properly feed a turkey. "I have discovered, though," reported Baxter, "that microwaved frozen corn niblets are apparently not a good option." Baxter continued, "He was so cute when I got him, and I remember thinking 'How hard could it be?" Well I guess it's harder than I thought, and he wasn't nearly as cute with his feathers falling out and all thin and lethargic like that." There was a brief service for Mr. Gobblepants on January 6, after which the Baxters buried him next to the garage near Floppy McEars, the rabbit Baxter bought his kids for Easter of 2012. At press time Ribbons, the Christmas hedgehog, was still clinging to life in his cage in the children's bedroom.

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Obituary - Lauren Stoddard

Lauren G. Stoddard, 32, died January 6 in Indianapolis in an automobile accident. Ms. Stoddard was traveling east on I-465 on the north side of the city at 9:14 on Friday morning when her car drifted out of her lane, struck the side of a semi trailer, and careened across two lanes of traffic before flying off the road and down the embankment near the Keystone Avenue interchange. Investigators estimate her speed at the time of the accident at 93 mph, presumably because she was late for her scheduled 9:00 arrival at work. Police found an open makeup kit, the remains of an egg sandwich from Starbucks, Ms. Stoddard's smart phone with a partially completed text message, and an open book on the subject of time management in the car's cabin.

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Obituary - Marlin Yoder

Marlin T. Yoder, 56, died November 13 in the parking lot of his employer, Atlas Logistics, Inc. Yoder, a 23-year veteran of the company, committed suicide by setting himself ablaze as horrified co-workers watched through the windows. Several employees rushed out to douse the flames with blankets and fire extinguishers as others called 911, but Yoder was pronounced dead at the scene. According to the suicide note he left in his cubicle, Yoder was inspired by the Buddhist monks in Tibet who have self-immolated to protest Chinese rule. Company office manager Judy Trinkle, who found the note, said it indicated that Yoder's protest was over the company's recent change of coffee creamer brands in the break room. "I can't help but feel partly responsible in a weird way," said Trinkle. "I mean, I bought the other creamer because it was a little cheaper. But for Marlin to do that over a switch in coffee creamers just seems really . . . well, honestly it seems really dumb, God rest his soul. He never even asked me to switch back or said anything to me about not liking the new one or anything."

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Obituary - That Girl You Had That Crush On In High School

That Girl You Had That Crush On In High School, approximately your age, died November 12 at her home in The City She Moved To Which Is Why You Haven't Seen Her In So Long. Known for being far too stunningly, mind-numbingly beautiful to allow you to concentrate on Mr. Jenkins' third period world history class and for whispering snide comments about Mr. Jenkins' ties in the most honey-toned voice you have ever heard in your life, That Girl You Had That Crush On In High School had suffered for the past several years from a heart condition related to the morbid obesity that had replaced the lithe, graceful form that was seared into your memory five mornings a week and to the smoking habit that had caused her once-dulcet voice to sound like a cross between Carol Channing, Harvey Fierstein, and a rusty chainsaw. She is survived by her husband, That Schlub From The Rival High School You Can't Believe She Married, and however many children they had. You were quoted for this report as saying, "Man, I'm old."

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Obituary - Steven Sinofsky

Steven Sinofsky, 47, died November 12 in Seattle, WA. Sinofsky had just announced his sudden resignation as Windows president for Microsoft Corporation, mere weeks after the release of the company's Windows 8 operating system and amid less than spectacular sales of the new Surface tablet. Following the announcement, Sinofsky had left the company headquarters in Redmond, WA to spend a few days in seclusion at Seattle's Roosevelt Hotel. Upon arrival, Sinofsky tripped on the uneven surface created by the upturned corner of a decorative rug in the eighth floor elevator lobby, sending him crashing through a window to his death. Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer spoke to the press after the news of Sinofsky's death broke. "I am personally, as are all of us at Microsoft, grateful to Steven for his 23 years of hard work at Microsoft, and we are deeply saddened by the news of his death," said Ballmer. Stifling a sardonic chuckle, Ballmer continued. "But man, I've got to tell you. Stumbling on an uneven surface and falling out a window on 8. That just . . . well that just says it all, you know?"

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Obituary - Henry Jacobs

Henry D. Jacobs, 78, died November 10 at Community North Hospital after a protracted battle with lung cancer and emphysema. Jacobs, who spent his entire career as a plumber before retiring in 2004, is survived by his wife Martha Jacobs, two children--Lauren Jacobs-Lewis of Hattiesburg, VA and Raymond Jacobs of Memphis, TN--and seven grandchildren. Services are pending. A spokesperson from Citizens Energy, Andrew Bishop, issued a statement saying that speculation that Mr. Jacobs' death had anything to do with their utility would be premature. "We know a lot of people are looking our way after that unpleasant business on the south side," said Bishop. "But we at Citizens Energy want to remind all the people of the Greater Indianapolis area that people do die in this city for reasons that have nothing to do with us."

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Obituary - Susan Jeffras

Susan D. Jeffras, 48, died November 7 at Community East Hospital. Jeffras had arrived home from work on Wednesday evening to find that her son Brandon, 16, had cleaned his room, taken out the garbage, prepared dinner, and completed two loads of laundry--including putting the folded laundry away--all without being asked. "I showed her all of that, and she just gasped and clutched at her chest and fell over." Brandon immediately called 911, but Jeffras was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. "Her heart just couldn't take the strain," reported emergency room physician Dr. Mary Stutz. Brandon, who will be moving into the home of his father and Jeffras' ex-husband Gary Jeffras, was in shock. "I never even got to ask her about getting me a car. That's the whole reason I did all that. Oh well, I'll have plenty of chances to try again at Dad's house. That place is a real shithole."

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Obituary - The 2012 Political Advertisement Season

The 2012 Political Advertisement Season, 2, died November 6 across the US. Season, who reached the end of its pre-determined life span on Tuesday, had become more bloated, more ubiquitous, and more choked with noxious bile--and with cash--than any of its ancestors. No memorial is scheduled, because there seems to be no one who isn't relieved, even overjoyed, at Season's demise. However, Season has two offspring currently gestating: The 2014 Mid-Term Election Advertisement Season and The 2016 Political Advertisement Season. Either or both of these offspring could exceed their parent in size, cost, ferocity, and intrusiveness, and each will be born far sooner than you think they should be.

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Obituary - Runs with Acorns

Runs with Acorns, 8, an Eastern Fox Squirrel, died November 5 in Indianapolis. Runs with Acorns, renowned among the squirrel population in his Fountain Square neighborhood for his bravery and thrill-seeking, was struck by a car as he ran across Laurel Street. Neighboring squirrel Flinches at Birds commented "Don't eat me! Don't eat me!" Coaxed from the tree into which he had fled, Flinches at Birds continued, "Oh yes, Runs with Acorns. That guy was crazy. He was always taking stupid risks. One day a big hawk flew overhead, and he didn't even run. What was that? Was that a hawk?" Reassured that the shadow that had passed across him was that of a common starling, Flinches at Birds again returned from the tree. "He had actually just bet me seven acorns that he could run back and forth across the street three times before that car reached him. Seven acorns, can you believe it? Who does that? I won, because he got hit on his second time across. So I went to his nest and got the seven acorns. They were nice ones, too. Say, by the way, have you seen any nice acorns around here? Hm? There are good trees in my territory--very good trees with many nuts--but if you know of any others I'd sure like to find them." Pausing for a furtive glance in all directions, Flinches at Birds continued, "Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh yes, nuts. Do you know where there are some?"

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Obituary - Jerry Coburn and Frank Schweitzer

Jerry Coburn, 53, and Frank Schweitzer, 57, died November 3 on the sidewalk in front of their neighboring Meridian-Kessler homes. Neighbors reported that the two men got into a dispute as Coburn attempted to place a yard sign supporting Republican gubernatorial candidate Mike Pence and Schweitzer attempted to place a yard sign supporting Democratic gubernatorial candidate John Gregg. The argument escalated into a scuffle that had the two men fencing with their respective yard signs. Police concluded that the men must have simultaneously executed powerful thrusts with the pointed metal legs of their signs, killing both men and causing them both to fall over backward. When officers arrived on the scene the John Gregg sign was firmly planted in Coburn's front lawn through Coburn's torso, and the Mike Pence sign was firmly planted in Schweitzer's front lawn through Schweitzer's face and chest.

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