'Father Time' found three weeks after death

Some called him Father Time, some called him a lunatic. He was a recluse who had roamed Columbus for years.

It seems he knew no one and no one knew him.

His decayed body was found on May 13 at his North High Street apartment. William Heinz had been dead for three weeks. He was 66 years old.

Heinz's neighbor, Justin Higgins, hadn't seen him for several weeks and noticed hundreds of flies covering Heinz's front window.

He assumed the worst and called the police around 6:30 p.m.

Paramedics arrived and broke into Heinz's apartment. They immediately turned away, gagging.

"It was the worst thing I've ever smelled," said Higgins, a second-year in political science. "The closest thing I can describe is the smell of rotting meat times 100."

Paramedics found Heinz dead in a chair by his front door. Police say he died of natural causes.

Not only was his body decomposed, he was a hoarder. Rotten food added to the smell of his apartment.

"There were newspapers and magazines about 3 feet thick covering the whole apartment," said James Harms, the facilities manager for the complex where Heinz lived.

In his apartment, there were only two walkways: one from the front door to the chair he died in and one from the chair to the bathroom.

"He had so much debris you couldn't even see his furniture," Harms said.

A couch, a love seat and a table were found under piles of newspapers.

His body was so decayed that "a detective came down to me and goes, ‘Was he a white male or a black male? Because we can't tell,'" Higgins said.

Inn-Town Homes and Apartments hired SERVEPRO, a professional cleaning service, to take care of the apartment.

The cleaners came the day after Heinz was found and began clearing out and sanitizing the apartment. They were done by Sunday night, Harms said.

Harms is still working on the cleaning process. All appliances were taken out, and the carpet was stripped.

"It's basically going to be a brand new apartment," he said.

The apartment will most likely be ready for a new renter before fall. However, some potential tenants might feel uneasy moving into an apartment with such a history.

Glenn Vanik, property manager for Inn-Town Homes, said he doesn't think he is required to tell the next renter the background on the apartment. But in this instance, it is more than likely he will.

"I feel bad for the next person that lives here," said Jonathan Francois, a fourth-year in accounting and a neighbor of Heinz. "I wonder how soon they'll try to get someone else to move in because that would be sketchy altogether."

Residents who lived on Heinz's floor might not have known him well, but they do remember details about him.

"He had a long Amish-like beard," said Manan Rathi, a third-year in chemistry. "He was everywhere. Every time I would go somewhere, I would see him."

All Heinz's neighbors said he kept to himself.

"He liked to stare at people. He was a man of few words," said Eric Paljieg, a fourth-year in medical technology.

Heinz wore the same thing every day. He wore a blue button down shirt with black pants and carried around a brown paper bag or satchel.

When Higgins moved into his apartment last year, Heinz told him he was the poorest tenant in the building and all he eats is beans.

He wasn't lying. When the weather was nice, Heinz would sit on the outside ledge of his third-floor apartment, eat beans out of a can and people watch.

Jimmy Barouxis, the general manager of Buckeye Donuts, saw Heinz around Columbus for years.

"He's been around a long time. My grandma even remembered him from the '70s," Barouxis said. "He would always grab the bus. He was a strange character. I wish I had something nice to say about him, but I don't."

Heinz might not have left a memorable impression, but he did leave one thing for his neighbors — flies.

Some residents asked the police if the many flies surrounding the complex and invading apartments would be a sanitation issue.

"A policeman decided to say the worst thing possible, which was, ‘The thing you have to remember is that all the flies were born inside of his body,'" Higgins said. "Every time I see a fly for the rest of my life I'm going to stare at it and chase it until it's dead."

Higgins said he hasn't eaten in his apartment since police removed Heinz's body because he doesn't want food to attract more flies.

Inn-Town Homes has been working to fix the fly problem. They have been using pesticides and have contacted an exterminator.

Although Heinz's neighbors say the situation is unnerving, they aren't losing sleep over it.

"Instead of having a neighbor, I have a boarded-up door," Francois said. "It's weird."

Many of them say they feel bad for Heinz.

Higgins said, "He obviously had no friends, family or work that he could disappear for three weeks and no one would notice."