Dead bodies tell tales. Sometimes they claim for Justice. Sometimes they beg for peace. Sometimes they even teach you how to live. I am one of the very few who can hear them talking. It's not that I have extra sensorial powers. It's what I do everyday for a living: I'm a forensic specialist.

You wouldn't believe the things I've seen and learned from working for more than eleven years as the forensic Doctor in Chief at the Official Morgue of Buenos Aires, Argentine. I've performed more than 10,000 autopsies so far, from a famous cardiologist who, ironically enough, killed himself by shooting a gun against his heart- to the daughter of a good friend of mine. Experiences like these have taught several lessons and that's why I want to share what I've heard dead people say.

You might be wondering how come I became a forensic doctor. Well, I always wanted to be one. I know that is unusual, especially for a kid, but I had it clear long time before puberty.

My father was a famous physician. I used to talk to him, inquiring about his profession. I'd tell him I wanted to work in a Morgue when I grew up. He would look at me in disbelief and say, "Do you know what you are saying? Forensics work with dead people." And I would reply to him: "I know. That's good. That's what I want!"

Doing what I've always wanted hasn't been easy. Drama and pain are part of my daily routine and I have to admit that several times they have been something hard to handle. I remember, for example, when I had to perform an autopsy on a colleague of mine. One day we were performing an autopsy together and the next day I was performing an autopsy on him. His death taught me the real meaning of "living your life fully and complete today"; something I'd heard and read many times before. My colleague's death made me realize how much time and energy we humans spend on activities that are not as important as share with the ones you love. It's not that I don't have bad days anymore, but instead of longing for a better day to come, I always remember that is necessary to enjoy the moment. Trust me on this: you might not get to experience tomorrow.

*****

I feel that my role as a forensic is to unveil the truth and tell the untold stories of the corpses I examine, so that authorities can act accordingly. The procedure itself is not pleasant, but it is amazing to hear dead people's messages.

Sometimes corpses claim justice. Ezequiel Demonty was a nineteen-year-old who drowned in the Riachuelo River, after being forced to jump in by eight Argentinean Police officers. This was a very complicated case, because I found he had been brutally beaten before drawing. Since I work with lawyers, prosecutors and judges, I am frequently asked a lot of specific questions and I've learned to ask myself even more. That's how I questioned Ezequiel and he told me what really happened to him. My report changed the charges against the officers from homicide in second grade to homicide in first grade with torture. The judge sent those individuals to jail for life.

Other times dead bodies teach you prudence. I've learned from them the importance of prevention and the meaning of forethought. That's how my daughter escaped from dying on December 30, 2004.

There was a rock concert that night at the Crogmanon discotheque, one of the best known clubs in Buenos Aires. My child came to me to requesting permission to go to the concert. I said no.

"Why not?" she asked. My answer turned to be premonitory: "Too many people in such a close space with no extra security measures and lots of alcohol it's just too dangerous. Going there is suicidal," I replied.

So she didn't go, but my friend's daughter went. She and other 194 people died that evening as a fire tore through the crowded nightclub. I couldn't stop thinking that my own daughter's skin could have been under my knife. Tears of sadness and gratitude would fill my eyes as I performed the autopsy.

Argentinean media reported as many 1,500 people in the building at the time, but the amount was almost twice as much. The fire was the worst in South America since a blaze swept a Paraguayan supermarket in August, killing 399 people in an Asuncion suburb. Authorities later said the doors were ordered shut by the store's owners to prevent looting, trapping people inside.

I remember arriving to the Morgue on December 31 at 6:00 am and leaving on January 2 at 5:00 pm. I worked 52 hours in a row, autopsy after autopsy. The only way to cope with such an experience is to try to focus on your rational part, rather than on your emotional self. It was very tough, especially the part of taking pictures of the victims so their relatives- who were outside the Morgue waiting waiting for us to do our job- would identify them.

A forensic must close his ears to the livings, lock his heart and open his eyes. That's how a good forensic should work. You can't pay attention to what rumors say about the death of somebody until the body speaks to you to tell you the truth. This is particularly hard when the corpse belongs to someone famous or very close to you.

That was the case in Dr. Rene Favarolo's autopsy. He was a role model for me; a top scientist who not only founded the Institute of Cardiology and Cardiovascular Surgery in Argentina, but spent most of his time teaching and fighting as a human rights advocate. The same guy who developed the coronary bypass surgery for the treatment of ischemic heart disease during his cardiology residence at the Cleveland Clinic, would commit suicide by pushing a 357 gun against his chest, right into his own heart. The reasons that made him kill himself have never been disclosure. Many attribute his suicide to the economic crisis that was affecting him and his foundation. His friends said Dr. Favarolo disappointment was even greater: he was tired of the crisis in Argentina. In the letter he left he says he was tired of "knocking at doors as a beggar."

*****

Autopsy means: to see with your own eyes. What I see with my own eyes, must be translated later in a way that helps to determine three things: the cause, the mechanism and how the person finally died. I must provide all these elements to the judge, so he can dictate a fair sentence.

Unfortunately corpses do not talk all the time. There had been a few cases where you just can't tell what exactly happened to them. I mean, you know there was a plane crash, for example, but you can't tell whether passengers died before or after the crash and whether they suffered or not. That happened to me when I had to perform an autopsy on 70 people who died after a plane crashed in the local airport in Buenos Aires, on August 31, 1999.

Their relatives wanted to know all the details and I only was able to tell them what they already knew- that they were dead. As you see, this job is certainly not easy. I often have my bad moments, when I fell on the verge of collapse and madness, but my family, friends and counselors help me to keep going.

On those instants I try to remember my master's words: "Show respect to the death every day all the time." And that is what we do here, in the Morgue, by working hard and hearing to the stories they want to tell. There are no hierarchies or privileges for anybody. All the dead people are equal, no matter what or who they were when lived.

After all what I've experienced and suffered there are people who still ask me if I'd choose this profession again. The answer is yes. I am happy with what I do and with what I have become. My father used to tell me that this profession implies a life commitment: no Christmas, no New Year eves and no vacations if our services are required. I remember very few times when growing up that my family and I were able to spend the holidays together. Yet I chose this path and I don't regret it. Mine it is pure vocation. I like unveiling the truth and while the autopsy itself is not nothing pleasant, somebody has to do it. I'm that person.

Hard Facts:
Roberto Victor Cohen, Argentine, 42, is a doctor in the field of medical clinic and legal medicine. He has been working in the Judiciary Morgue of Argentina for 11 years. He started working as an official doctor of justice at the age of 30, being the youngest to be part of the Judicial Branch (Supreme Court).

Since 1985, he has also worked at the general hospital José Maria Ramos Mejía, in charge of two areas: Risk Management and Legal Medicine.

For four years, he's been director of SAME (Emergencies System). From 1999 to 2002 he was in charge of all the emergencies in the city of Buenos Aires.

He was an active memberof the Presidential Medical Unit (group of physicians that looks after the President). During those years he was the main and personal doctor of both President Fernando De La Rua's and Eduardo Duhalde's.

He is the only doctor in Argentine specializing in the three instances of an emergency: Pre-emergency (prevention), during (attention and treatment) and after (recuperation or autopsies).

Cohen was chosen by President George W. Bush to be his personal doctor during his visit to Mar del Plata, Argentine in November 2005.