When a tattoo artist suggested on a talk show that his heart bypass surgery scar "would make a natural flagpole," Demski had flags tattooed all over his torso, front and back. Just in case, he had his doctors' phone numbers--one of them wrong--tattooed alongside the flags.
In addition to other squabbles, Demski tangled with authorities about whether the flagpole could be designated a cemetery. When they hooted "impossible," he sort of did it anyway.
Exotic birds became as much of Demski's persona as flags over the last 20 years--he had some two dozen at his death--and he interred a couple of them, starting with his first parrot, Mike, in the pole.
On St. Patrick's Day 1990, Demski also sealed into the pole the ashes of a friend, Air Force Col. Clem Maloney.
Little wonder Demski himself planned to wind up in the pole--specifically in the eagle at the top with the 4-foot wingspan--no matter what government officials think about it.
A couple of years ago, he staged a dress rehearsal for the wake and funeral now due. He lay in a plexiglass, mirrored casket--the better to display his round-the-torso tattoos--placed in his garage while invited guests ate corned beef sandwiches.
He asked to be cremated and, once his ashes were ensconced in the eagle, he directed the casket be donated as a coffee table for the homeless.
Demski certainly believed his plan was all arranged, once telling The Times that Long Beach Press-Telegram columnist Tom Hennessy had promised him: "I'll have you in that pole before the city even knows you're dead."
Hennessy, who wrote one final column about Demski earlier this month, also wrote his obituary, which appeared in the Long Beach paper Sunday.
He described Demski's long-planned funeral and burial orders, but made no personal commitment, noting only: "While funeral arrangements have not yet been announced, they presumably will be along the lines that Demski had planned." He said the decisions would likely be up to Alexander.
Demski never married, had no children, and has no known survivors.
