About a year ago my friend John died, alone in his house.
John was a 62-year-old divorced doctor. At a spring party the day before his death, he mentioned to some friends that he hadn’t been feeling quite right — some dizziness, some forgetfulness. One friend asked if he had seen a doctor, and his answer was, “Yes. Myself.” After a chuckle, someone asked what the doctor’s diagnosis had been. John joked that he’d been prescribed a good night’s sleep. Ultimately, John went and lay down in a guest room for half of the party, drove himself home and died within the next 12 hours from a brain aneurysm.
All sudden deaths are shocking. But the thing that makes John’s death an even greater tragedy is the fact that he lay in his bed for three days before anyone found him. John wasn’t a loner; he had a great group of friends, men and women, who socialized together regularly. We had cookouts, New Year’s Eve parties, enjoyed outings to nice restaurants. The group even had a name: The Wannabe Trainwrecks, of which John was the most instrumental member — and he still lay dead in his bed for three days until anyone found him.
I suppose those events affected me so strongly because I too live alone and I realized that what happened to John could just as easily happen to me, a divorced empty nester in Johnson City, Tenn. In fact, I’d wager that John’s sad and tragic end could happen to many of us. According to the most recent U.S. Census, I am far from alone in living alone. Currently more than 38 million Americans are on their own at home, a number that has tripled since 1940. It’s nice to know that I am in the good company of more than a quarter of the U.S. population.
I am a social person; some would say very social. I have a variety of friends with whom I attend plays, see storytellers, go out to eat, grab a beer and take regular walks with our pups. I spend a fair amount of time with my elderly parents and communicate with them a few times a week. So don’t think that just because I live alone I’m sitting in isolation each night when I come home from teaching. That’s not the case for me, and it wasn’t the case for John either.
Therein lies the problem.
How many people who live alone do not have a relationship with another person they talk with every day? John didn’t have such a relationship, and I don’t either. At first glance, this might not seem terribly problematic, but it would be in the best interest of everyone who lives alone to develop an agreement with someone they can check in with every day, rain or shine, no matter what. As a matter of safety that probably feels more like a friendly gesture, this daily contact could make the difference in whether a person lives or dies — or at least whether they lay dead in their home for three days before anyone takes notice.
I was discussing this topic with my eighth grade students the other day, and a boy in class told us a story he’d heard about a man ordering a pizza from a local shop every day as a matter of having regular contact with someone. Because this communication was so routine, one day when that man didn’t call in his order or answer his phone, the store manager drove to the man’s home and found that the gentleman had suffered a heart attack. Ironically, the unhealthy daily pizza orders created such a routine that they ended up saving his life.
Most of us live our lives as though “nothing can possibly go wrong, not to me,” which is a neglectful and cavalier attitude at best. I don’t want what happened to John to happen to me. The thought of lying alone helpless, sick, injured or even dead for days before anyone takes notice is one of the most horrible scenarios I can imagine.
After carefully considering all of my relationships, I arranged a daily contact with my lifelong friend Sonja. She is a loyal and trusted person in my life, and we have agreed on a quick daily check in so our wellness can be confirmed. If we have time, we’ll chat for a few minutes about our kids, some new restaurant, a cosmetic that wipes away the years. If time is short, we can respond with as little as a specific and unique emoji and rest easy knowing the other is alive and well. If a double text still yields no response within a half-hour, we would know to investigate further. It’s a simple and easy agreement that gives me comfort and peace of mind.
Even though I live alone, I know someone’s got my back, and I don’t take that for granted.
Rebecca Edmisten is a middle school teacher from Johnson City, Tenn.
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Ideas expressed in the piece
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The author contends that the growing population of Americans living alone—currently more than 38 million—faces significant safety risks that necessitate intentional daily contact with another person, as illustrated by the tragic case of a friend who died alone and remained undiscovered for three days despite having an active social life.
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The piece argues that even socially engaged individuals who live alone can lack daily check-in relationships, creating dangerous blind spots where health emergencies or sudden illnesses may go unnoticed for extended periods, potentially resulting in death or serious harm.
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The article suggests that a simple buddy system involving brief daily contact—whether through conversation, text, or even a predetermined emoji—could serve as a life-saving safety measure without requiring significant time or emotional burden from participants.
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The author emphasizes that vulnerability among solo dwellers is not limited to isolated individuals but extends to socially active people, as solo agers are “more vulnerable when anything happens because they don’t always have the support of others.”[1] Research indicates that approximately 38 percent of solo agers cannot identify friends, family or neighbors to help with daily needs, and when major health emergencies occur, they are more likely to end up in prolonged nursing home stays.[1]
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The column contends that establishing a formalized daily contact agreement—distinguishable from typical social interaction—provides psychological comfort and practical protection, potentially preventing situations where individuals remain unnoticed during medical crises.
Different views on the topic
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Research presented in studies of older solo agers demonstrates that many of these individuals maintain excellent social connections and report similar health outcomes to people living with partners, with 51 percent of survey respondents describing their social lives as excellent or good.[1]
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The evidence suggests that solo agers are “generally healthier, more cognitively capable and more socially connected than the broad group of older people living with their spouse or adult children—because they have to be,”[1] indicating that living alone often cultivates self-sufficiency and active engagement rather than vulnerability.
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Experts note that freedom and autonomy are among the most valued aspects of solo living, with participants emphasizing the joy of independence and the ability to pursue personal interests without constraints, suggesting that mandatory daily check-ins may conflict with the intentional lifestyle choices that attract people to solo living.[1]
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Research on intergenerational programs shows that social connection and mutual support can emerge organically through community engagement and voluntary participation rather than formalized buddy systems, with programs like “Big and Mini” attracting over 6,000 participants based on mutual benefits rather than safety protocols.[2]
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The data indicates that many solo agers already prioritize social connections naturally, with 63 percent reporting that spending time with friends brings them joy and 57 percent turning to friends for support and guidance,[1] suggesting that encouraging existing social networks may be more effective than implementing new structured systems.