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Crimefighters flock to Knoxville to bone up on forensics

by Molly Kincaid

Class begins much like a typical college scenario, buzzing with students teasing one another and facetiously offering to trade test answers. In a way, the National Forensic Academy is a bit like college in that the students leave their families for two months to reside in Knoxville, two to a room in apartments, resulting in a dorm-like camaraderie among the bunch. But the skills these jovial students are here to learn are no laughing matter, and these are not typical college kids.

After Dr. Steve Symes indulges the class with a string of cop jokes, he clears his throat to begin his lecture. At once, the classroom stiffens—hands shoot up at every question, heads nod in fierce attention, and pencils jot down every word. The level of intensity is not surprising though, because these students of the National Forensic Academy, their professions ranging from Law Enforcement Officer to Military CID to FBI agent, are all the cream of the crop in their field; crime scene investigation. They come to Knoxville, a mecca of forensics, to become even more efficient in the grim business of catching killers.

Dr. Bill Bass, Knoxville’s well-known founder of the Anthropological Research Facility (better known as “The Body Farm” since Patricia Cornwell’s 1994 novel popularized the nickname), thinks of the NFA class as a “graduate school” for crime scene investigators who already have significant field experience. “We’re not dealing with rookies here,” he says. This particular class consists of mostly police officers, male and female, hailing from as far as Oregon and New Mexico, or as close as Nashville. Randy Unterbank, an officer from Charleston PD, says, “The crime-scene office will nominate someone [to take the class]. It’s not something you want to pass up, because you may not get another chance for 10 years.”

It’s quite an honor to get to attend “The Harvard of Hellish Violence,” as the program t-shirts refer to it. This darkly humorous nickname is apt, due not only to the grisly subject matter, but also the caliber of the instructors. In addition to Dr. Bass, the program boasts some of his notable protégés such as Symes, a well-known bone-trauma expert who teaches at Mercyhurst College, and Dr. Arpad Vass, who developed a revolutionary method for measuring time-since-death. The class also travels to Nashville to observe the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation in action and Tennessee State Medical Examiner, Dr. Bruce Levy, perform an autopsy.

In addition, a handful of professors from the UT Anthropology Department, known for its top-notch forensics program, also instruct sections of the NFA class. Dr. Lee Jantz of UT cites the hands-on aspect of the course as the most significant difference from other training students may have received. “They get to dig up a real human body rather than a pig or a model. They get a house, set up a crime scene, and then process it. It’s as close to real world scenarios as you’re going to get,” says Jantz.

The students relish the hands-on activities too; more than one expressed regret that this particular day wasn’t one of the “cool” days. In this case, “cool” could be translated as “something got blown up or set on fire.” During the three-day session on arson, the class acquires a house (usually through TDOT’s interstate-widening projects) and set it on fire. Afterwards, they break down the scene, recovering objects and studying the fire’s effects. Another highlight for students is blowing up a car at the KPD firing range during the vehicle identification exercises. Though confined to a classroom lacking explosives, Dr. Symes’ lecture, chock full of slides depicting blood spatter patterns, skull lacerations, and bullet-trajectory analysis, wasn’t lacking in the morbidly “cool” department either.

Intriguing as all this action can be, the National Forensic Academy’s main goal is to lay the groundwork to improve investigators’ approach crime scenes, so the course also covers a lot of basics. The first few weeks of the two-month course focus on classic whodunit detective tactics, such as photography and mapping of crime scenes, fingerprinting, and trace-evidence collection.

The bare bones of the course surface—literally—when the class migrates to the Anthropological Research Facility to spend a week on forensic investigation. Here, they locate and excavate a human burial that has been set up for them, focusing on full recovery of the remains and mapping the burial in detail. This segment of the course also highlights the capabilities of the different types of forensic scientists. Put simply, forensic pathologists are experts on fresh bodies, whereas forensic anthropologists are called in when a body has begun to decay. Knowing your resources is half the battle in crime scene investigation and calling the right person to the scene is imperative.

Jarret Hallcox, NFA program director, says one resource that developed since the class began three years and nine courses ago is a growing nationwide network of alumni and instructors that fuels collaboration on cases. In the case of a recent stolen-car ring that stretched across the Southeast, one NFA graduate from Horn Lake, Miss. traced some cars into Tennessee. He contacted a fellow graduate from Germantown, Tenn., and they began collaborating to locate the perpetrators. They traced the car ring into Orange County, N.C., where two more NFA graduates jumped in to help. In the end the case was solved, due in part, Hallcox says, to “three states and four graduates all working together.”

Though boundary-quarrels between government agencies and scientists can be overdramatized on TV (a la The X-Files), one aim of the NFA is to forge better relationships between all parties involved at crime scenes. David Burns, Knoxville Police Department, says, “By getting in the trenches and doing what [forensic scientists] do, you realize their capabilities.” Some students will use the forensic skills they learn to a greater extent than others, as Burns points out, “Many law enforcement agencies don’t have the luxury of UT students and forensic experts [that Knoxville has], so they have to do all this themselves.”

In his recent book, Death’s Acre, Dr. Bass praises this type of “cross-pollination” between those with differing expertise but like goals. He cites the example of Dr. Arpad Vass, who used his roots in chemistry and biology to develop three precise methods to determine time-since-death, a valuable piece of information that had previously eluded forensic experts. Vass’s novel approach primarily uses the “goo” (a quasi-technical term tossed about in forensic circles and used by Bass himself) that accumulates on and around decaying bodies.

Determining time-since-death involves measuring amounts of volatile fatty acids present in the goo and is done primarily in the lab rather than in the field. Though Vass projects that ultimately police departments will possess state-of-the-art equipment to process samples in the field, he still covers the basics. “The impetus of what I teach is, number one, that the students know what resources and methods are available—and, number two, that they know how to collect samples and what to do with them,” says Vass. No doubt drawing on his current position at ORNL, Vass also instructs the class in how to deal with weapons of mass destruction and other agents of terrorism.

Though often sensational and stereotypical, primetime shows like CSI and Crossing Jordan have elevated public opinion of forensics from gory to almost glamorous. In The Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad alludes to man’s inherent “fascination of abomination.” This intrigue with the morose—the quintessential example being the urge to stare out of the car window at an accident—has probably always been part of human nature. Before the media popularized forensics, however, some regarded the study as a gruesome indignity. Considering that the “Body Farm” met with disgruntled protest at its outset, Dr. Bass purports that media coverage since that time has been beneficial in that it’s given the public a general understanding and appreciation of what forensic scientists do.

Still, Bass says there are two main problems with the way TV presents crime solving. One is, “they get it done in an hour,” he says with a knowing chuckle. Secondly, “they seldom ask for help. When they do, they get the right answer right away.” In a field where murder cases may sit on the shelf for years, sometimes without a glimmer of hope of being solved, such outcomes are rare.

Collaboration between crime-scene investigators and scientists is necessary to achieve a mutual goal with immeasurable payoff. When a homicide case is solved and the perpetrator is put behind bars, the wounds of a victim’s loved ones can begin to heal. The victim’s unjust and untimely silence is broken, their story finally told. As invaluable as these results are, Symes ponders the question of whether forensic science itself is “priceless.” He modestly decides on the negative, claiming that, “Forensic scientists don’t solve the crime; the important aspect is teamwork, the science just substantiates what the law enforcement does.”

Dr. Bass will give a lecture on “The Anatomy of a Forensic Anthropology Case” on Tuesday, Sept. 28 at 6:30 p.m. in UT’s UC Auditorium at. $5 for UT students, $10 general. (656-4444 or www.knoxvilletickets.com for tickets.)

September 23, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 39 © 2004 Metro Pulse