Mesa Musings:

Ken and Ruth Dutro have an understanding of death and dying that few emergency room doctors or coroners can match.

The Costa Mesa couple don’t possess a morbid fascination for the subject, however. They’ve served as pastors for the past three decades, ministering to senior adults and the dying.

“When we first became pastors,” says Ruth, a 1946 Newport Harbor High School graduate, “we weren’t into preaching; we were into people. That’s never changed.”

For the past 15 years, they’ve been hospice chaplains and have prayed with and counseled more than 2,000 dying patients of all ages. The Dutros are on call 24/7, and have been at the bedside of hundreds of patients as they died. They’ve also conducted hundreds of funerals.

Superficiality doesn’t exist in the world that Ken and Ruth inhabit. Everything — every day — is intensely real, and they’ve learned a multitude of lessons.

“Very few of the 2,000 hospice patients we’ve worked with considered themselves ‘ready to go’ as death approached,” says Ruth, who was awakened to her own mortality in 1990 when she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. The tumor was removed, but returned three years ago. She continues to wage a battle for her health. “Most people — including believing Christians — are terrified as death draws near.

“Churches generally do a poor job of preparing people for death. You see fear in the eyes of patients on their deathbed.”

The Dutros began counseling older adults almost by accident.

“The church where we were serving as visitation pastors had a young staff,” Ken recalls. “Seniors began requesting an ‘older pastor’ for visits, so we took those assignments.”

Ken, 83, and Ruth, 81, served for many years at Newport-Mesa Christian Center and later at Presbyterian Church of the Covenant in Costa Mesa. They’re now affiliated with Shoreline Baptist Church in Fountain Valley.

“We’re on hand to reassure, encourage and comfort,” says Ken, who started the construction program at El Camino College in Torrance and taught there for 27 years before retiring in 1986 to enter the full-time ministry.

Their hospice patients have included Christians, persons of a variety of other faiths, agnostics and even an occasional atheist. The group has also included retired pastors and church workers.

“These people know that death is imminent,” Ruth said. “They’re appreciative of our presence.”

When Ken and Ruth meet a patient for the first time, Ken asks the $64 question: “Do you know how much God loves you?”

“Almost without exception — and no matter their religious persuasion — they have trouble accepting that God loves them,” Ken says. “They feel God can’t possibly forgive them — or, they’re unable to forgive themselves — and they stand at eternity’s door uncertain and afraid.”

“Frequently, they feel they must find the way to heaven themselves,” Ruth adds, “and they don’t know how to do that. They’re worried about the trip.”

The Dutros read them a passage of scripture, from John 14. Jesus provides assurance: “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

Ken and Ruth usually visit their hospice patients multiple times before they die.

“We pray with them and talk about God’s promises and about heaven, and Ruthie will sing a hymn,” Ken says. “Some people are unconscious — but we know that they hear every word until their last breath. Others are completely conscious.”

The Dutros’ visits have a profound effect.

“When they die, many of our patients simply close their eyes, turn their heads and peacefully pass away,” Ruth says. “The fear is gone. One woman, who’d been comatose for a couple of days, suddenly sat up, her face radiant, lifted her arms and said, ‘It’s all gold!’ She laid back and was gone.”

They’ve experienced many similar “goose pimple” moments. “One patient was fearful,” Ruth says, “and just before she died a white dove came and sat on her patio where she could see it through a glass door. It gave her comfort. Actually, we’ve seen that happen several times.”

One gentleman was dying at his waterfront home in Huntington Harbour. On one of his last days, his caregiver opened a door to let in an ocean breeze.

“A sparrow flew into the room, circled once, then flew out,” Ruth said. “We reminded the man that God’s ‘eye is on the sparrow,’ and that he watches over each of us.”

The Dutros’ ministry has irrevocably changed their lives.

“We’re comfortable with death, and we have no fear,” Ken says. “We’ve planned our own funerals, and will go according to His timing.”

Until then, they’ve got miles to go before they sleep.

JIM CARNETT lives in Costa Mesa. His column runs Wednesdays.