The eleventh commandment is ‘don’t get caught’

Posted by Richard Rawlinson

What a time it’s been for the funeral industry on the tellybox. Apologies made and inquiries launched by Co-operative Funeralcare after Channel 4’s Dispatches: Undercover Undertakers. Ditto by Funeral Services Partnership-owned Gillman Funeral Service after ITV’s Exposure: The British Way of Death.

These spy camera investigations of sneaky sales practices and disrespect for corpses were partly balanced by a more positive representation of the industry in BBC2’s Dead Good Job, which included an insight into the fast-paced work of a Muslim undertakers.

And we still have to look forward to a documentary for Sky, which will feature the recent Good Funeral Guide Awards at the Joy of Death festival, not to mention our very own Charles Cowling who has collaborated tirelessly with the show’s makers, Sharp Jack Media.

I’ve recently posted a couple of fluffy blogs about funereal fashion and the ubiquity of skulls on everything from cushion covers to cufflinks. This trend, coupled with all the media attention, leads to the question, is there something deathly in the air at the moment?

It’s probable that, while the industry seems to insiders to be in the media spotlight, the public-at-large will be less pre-occupied by the exposés. They no doubt have enough concerns about their own work, bank balances and home lives. Besides, even prime-time documentaries receive only moderate viewing figures in this age of multi-channels and internet distractions. And this week’s Exposure arguably trumps last week’s as an attention-grabber: the reputation of the late oddball national treasure Jimmy Savile is destroyed by revelations he sexually abused under-age girls. His not-so-old grave in Scarborough is now under police guard.

The trouble with our oft-brutal modern age is many people become almost numb to disgraceful behaviour all around, from the top to the bottom of society. Today’s equivalent of Yes, Prime Minister is The Thick Of It, a compulsively ghastly comedy exposing the corruption of contemporary government ‘public service’ which makes charming the gentle spoofing of the ineptitude of yesteryear.

However, the rash of forever-Google-able media attention will no doubt mean funeral service anecdotes will be spreading by word-of-mouth during ‘did-you-see…?’ pub chats, and words such as ‘hub’, ‘leakage’ and ‘hygiene treatments’ will be a bit more familiar.

When another institution close to my heart got a justified slamming for totally mishandling cases of sexual deviance in its midst, I believe the shaming had a positive, humbling effect. I’m optimistic that complacent managers at undertakers—big and small—will have also learned lessons from the recent exposés, and standards will now improve. The eleventh commandment of ‘don’t get caught’ is a terribly jaded and cynical approach to life.

But I’ll close with an observation that the National Association of Funeral Directors’ Code of Practice for members focuses on the rights of funeral consumers, or the living rather than the dead. It says nothing about how to store the dead, or how to conduct oneself while preparing a body. It says nothing about racist or sexist gallows humour directed towards corpses, as caught on the documentaries’ cameras.

The code reveals, however, that NAFD is not naive of human flaws, the desire of businesspeople to maximise profits, sometimes by deceiving clients made vulnerable by bereavement or lack of savvy. It says, for example, funeral directors should “have readily-available price lists covering the basic funeral and all other types of coffins, caskets and services provided”.

It even demands FDs
 “refrain from soliciting funeral orders or offering or giving any reward for recommendation to persons or organisations such as health service establishments, nursing homes or coroners’ offices, etc.”

It wouldn’t have included these codes, had it not been aware of such dodgy practices. Both codes are clearly breached by members. I don’t blame NAFD for not including explicit clauses about backroom practices though. The media corporation for which I work gives new employees a fat staff manual which goes into great detail about workplace ethics, including everything from racist, sexist and homophobic bullying to hanky panky on premises. I’m glad to say I’m surrounded by educated colleagues who behave decently without even having to study the small print guidelines.

Undertakers, whether big enough to have HR departments or not, should be able to regulate their staff without making a public declaration about it. Modern life doesn’t have to be rubbish.

Tichbourne’s Elegy

Posted by Evelyn
 
I heard this on Radio Four over the weekend and liked its mournful simplicity.
 
My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done. 
My tale was heard and yet it was not told,
My fruit is fallen, and yet my leaves are green,
My youth is spent and yet I am not old,
I saw the world and yet I was not seen;
My thread is cut and yet it is not spun,
And now I live, and now my life is done. 
I sought my death and found it in my womb,
I looked for life and saw it was a shade,
I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb,
And now I die, and now I was but made;
My glass is full, and now my glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done. 
 
Chideock Tichbourne 1563-1586

Kicking the Bucket right around the corner

There’s already quite a buzz about the Kicking the Bucket Festival, which threads its way through the second half of this month. Barbara Chalmers tells us she’s coming all the way from Glasgow, so come on, you ought to be able to make it from wherever you are. There’s masses of good stuff on.

The KtB website is full of good info. If you’ve got a paper programme, please note that there are two errors:

Home Death  at the Pegasus theatre. The price is £6/5 not £20 as shown.

Marigolds & Ashes at the Friends Meeting house, booking through Oxford Playhouse should be priced at £12/£10 because this includes food too. “We can offer  a show ticket without food at £6/5 prices shown on the paper programme, but it is the full price if you have the meal.”

 Check out the full programme. It’s an immensely rich diet we are offered. Goodness only knows how anyone organises something of this scale. Hats off to Liz Rothschild!

Thoughts of a funeral-goer

Posted by Lyra Mollington

‘They’re dropping like flies!’

This was Daisy as she came in through our front door on Monday morning. Barry was close behind, shrugging his shoulders by way of an apology.

I replied, ‘You’d better come in for a coffee.’

My (or rather Mr M’s) new espresso machine is proving extremely popular. Daisy is a latte, I’m a double shot cappuccino and Barry is an Americano. Mr M is Earl Grey.

Daisy was in a bit of a flap. ‘Barry’s the last one standing!’

Thankfully, Barry provided the details. When he was a school boy, his best friends were Tom and Richard. The three were inseparable. And, inevitably, their class-mates referred to them as Tom, Dick ’n’ Barry. Tom died in his mid-fifties. Richard died at the weekend – he was only 64.

Daisy was waiting expectantly for me to express my sympathies and ask for more details. However, I found myself on a completely different train of thought. Barry is seven years younger than Daisy – well I never!

I regained my composure. ‘That really is far too young. I’m so sorry. When is the funeral?’

I then discovered why Daisy was flappier than usual. Barry had been asked by Richard’s wife (his THIRD, interjected Daisy) to speak at the funeral.

‘SPEAK! AT A FUNERAL!’ emphasised Daisy. I made a mental note to buy a tin of decaffeinated ground coffee.

When Richard discovered that he was terminally ill, he wrote a letter. He then asked his wife Sally if she could ask someone to read it out at his funeral. Understandably, no-one in the family feels confident enough to do this. Cue Barry, Richard’s oldest friend.

Barry has mixed feelings. He is honoured to be asked. But he is also terrified. Not of speaking in public – as a retired teacher, he’s done plenty of that. The problem is speaking at a funeral, in full view of the other mourners. Daisy and I had thought we’d made a breakthrough when Barry finally admitted that his dislike of funerals stems from when he was a boy and he wasn’t allowed to attend his father’s funeral. Unfortunately, although he no longer dislikes funerals (any more than anyone else, that is) the sight of a coffin unleashes decades of repressed emotion. Or that’s how he views it. We witnessed a burial recently, from a distance, and all I can recall is Barry wiping away a tear. Hardly a torrent of grief. Nevertheless, if it’s important to him that he should be seen to maintain a stiff upper lip, then I was determined to help.

Could I read the letter? Could the vicar or the celebrant read it?

No. Barry believes it is his duty to read it. So I suggested that he reads Richard’s words aloud so many times that they become meaningless. I also offered to come along – I could stare at him menacingly if I see his top lip begin to wobble.

He was willing to try anything. Unfortunately it’s a bit of a trek – a crematorium on the outskirts of Aldershot, in Hampshire. But Barry’s going to drive and there’s bound to be a nice café nearby.

Where fresh air strikes openly and freely

In Namibia, Michael M Liswaniso, writing for AllAfrica.com, deplores the new custom of spraying air freshener at funerals. 

I will start by saying: Eish no please, enough is enough! It is partly inhumane and implies that our loved ones smell when we use air fresheners moments before we lower the coffin into the ground.

I have attended numerous funerals in this country but I have never seen anybody who stands next to the coffin and sprays it with some fragrances in the name of ‘Airoma strawberry’ or any other just to wind down the so-called ‘filthy smell’ emanating from the deceased inside the coffin.

That was until I attended the funeral of one of my close family members. I did not appreciate what I saw. The same thing happened at least at five different funerals in my mother’s town.

I know that when we die and are kept in the mortuary for several days – our lifeless bodies are likely to start disintegrating to an extent that they could partly smell, especially if the morgue is not functioning properly. But such a scenario is unlikely because of the hospital personnel who work hard to keep mortuaries in good working condition.

But to my surprise, most communities in Caprivi and funeral undertakers in some parts of the country have added the ‘air fresheners’ to their shopping list whenever they are to bury their loved ones. Apparently this is done to “avoid the bad smell at the final resting place of the deceased”.

Now, this is what perplexes me totally.

In all the funerals or burial services I attended in Caprivi and other parts of the country, there was no reek of any kind from the coffins. Yet, people continue to spray the coffins even during the funeral service in the church.

The practice distracts the mourners from paying attention to the service, disrupting the entire funeral service.

“Our morgue is always in a bad state that’s why many families have resorted to buying air fresheners at funerals just to avoid a bad smell emanating from the lifeless bodies of their loved ones,” said one source.

I find the practice disrespectful in the sense that even if there is really a bad smell, an 180 ml can of air freshener would never surmount the smell? I do not think so, given the fact that burials take place outdoors at cemeteries where fresh air strikes openly and freely. In addition, air fresheners are mainly meant for indoor ‘isolated’ areas – maybe at a memorial service in the church but still ….

“I saw it for the first time but we don’t do that in my tradition. It is really being disrespectful, it would even imply that the deceased is even stinking to the extent that even a dead dog with maggots is better while in actual fact that is not the case – we are human beings,” – these words came from a friend of mine who accompanied me to a funeral recently.

I have seen and heard of several people who have complained about the practice but the ‘new’ tradition seems to have found a new permanent home in Caprivi and other parts of the country.

My humble suggestion is for people to leave the deceased to take their last journey. Why not then bath our loved ones for the last time, and dress them in their favourite attire and let them wear their most ‘expensive’ perfumes that they might leave behind?

I guess this will help instead of letting one person spray around the coffin for several hours at the gathering. I hope this will assist, if not, then let’s look at other avenues that might work. Until next time, I say Kozo! Eewa

Walking away

Public health, council or (a new term to us) public funerals are on the rise in Burnley Lancashire, a once-thriving mill town from which manufacturing has ebbed, leaving a generally impecunious population — but a halfway decent football team. A report in the Lancashire Telegraph tells us:

In 2007 Burnley Council paid for three public funerals at a cost of £9,000, of which £7,000 was recovered through the deceased’s estate. But in recent years that number has risen by up to 400 per cent, with 13 public funerals in 2010, at a cost of £16,000, of which only £4,800 was recovered. There were nine public funerals in 2011 and there have been seven so far in 2012.

Jill Wolfendale, the council’s principal environmental health officer, says: 

“In the last three years there seems to be an increase in those public funerals where there are relatives but they are unwilling or unable to make the funeral arrangements. Council staff make every effort to point out to family or friends who may want to make arrangements but have concerns or difficulties meeting the costs that they may be entitled to claim a grant to help towards costs. However, in recent years relatives are increasingly unable or unwilling to do this as generally they still have to provide up front deposits to funeral directors.”

Clearly the dysfunctional Social Fund Funeral Payment has a lot to answer for here. What is curious is the rising number of people who are unwilling to assume responsibility for burying or cremating their own. Is there a social trend emerging? 

Full report here.

Second first of the day

Andy Clarke and his partner, artist Holly Bridgestock-Perris, have sold their first, innovative Curve coffin. Andy’s new concept was inspired by a “desire was to make a softer curved product, that moved away from the angular harshness of the traditional shape that’s been with us for hundreds of years, and yet retain the traditional robustness of timber in its manufacture.”

Inevitably, the story behind their first sale is a sad one. The coffin is for a baby. The family are arranging everything themselves. 

Andy tells me that he has refined the Curve coffin since we featured him on the blog back in April, and he’s very pleased with the way it looks now. 

The coffins come in plain or painted. The children’s coffin, the Bambini, is the one with the rope handles at either end.

You can find Andy and Holly’s website here.  

First first of the day

We stood and whooped and hollered here at the GFG-Batesville Shard when we opened this email from Darren Abey: 

Hi Charles

Only Fools and Hearses have just carried out our first funeral in Berkshire. The family loved the send off , they said it was priceless and would never forget that their father had the best celebration of his life possible. Dell Trotter he may not have been but he was one of life’s characters.  That’s why I built this hearse, it gave everyone a day never to forget.

I am over the moon, its worked, it’s proved we want to celebrate our families’ wishes. As Del Boy said, ‘Never stop believing, Rodders’.

Let’s hope this hearse brings more smiles to the funeral world.

We hope it’s brought a smile to your own Thursday countenance. Well done Darren!!

Death by Christmas shopping

Posted by Richard Rawlinson

There was a time when the skull and crossbones symbolised ‘Danger’ when displayed on poisonous products or worn on the clothes of Punks, Goths, Hell’s Angels, pirates and SS soldiers.

For some years now, it’s been a ubiquitous part of mainstream fashion, found on everything from Debenhams babywear to John Lewis cushion covers.

If you go to Google Images and key the word ‘skull’ followed by pretty much any product, you’ll be spoilt for choice: duvet covers, wallpaper, plant pots, teacups, loo brushes, dog baskets, mobile phone holders, trainers, umbrellas, cufflinks, bras…