WWII veteran died penniless, but rich with friends

He died penniless, but rich with friends
S.F. NEIGHBORHOODS
Kevin Fagan
October 26, 2012

It was just before sunrise when Bernie Kern wheeled himself to an outdoor plaza at Laguna Honda Hospital for his usual morning cigarette. He'd been living in the hospital for five years, but four decades of homelessness before that had left him with an enduring affection for the early morning chill and quiet.

The cigarette was done in a few minutes. It was his last.

Kern was found peacefully slumped in his wheelchair just outside the elevator, his heart given out from the long years on the streets.

That was Oct. 9. He was 90.

Having long outlived every relative he knew, there was no family to claim him. The normal city policy in such cases is to cremate him along with other unclaimed indigents, then scatter his ashes into the ocean with all the others on a routine run by a city-hired boat.
read more here