Dedicated followers of Richard Sage will know that he is operating out of the Mayer Funeral Home.
Invoices issued by the Mayer Funeral Home show that it is owned by Medi Call Southern Ltd, incorporated by Companies House on 07-11-2012. M-Call is – no surprises – an air ambulance business. Its SIC is given as ‘Funeral and related activities’.
Medi Call Southern operates out of a private house: 4 Bramfield Road East, Rayleigh, SS6 8RG.
Its director is named as Mr Sharon Parker.
A new charity which will help bereaved parents with the cost of a baby or child’s funeral is being officially launched on Wednesday, July 23, with a special one-day seminar and exhibition at the National Memorial Arboretum in Staffordshire.
Child Funeral Charity (CFC), whose patron is well-known author and national newspaper advice columnist Bel Mooney, has been set up by a team of child and funeral industry professionals. It is being headed by experienced educationalist Roger Gale as chief executive officer, while Mary and Kevin Tomes at Colourful Coffins and Anne Barber from Civil Ceremonies, are charity trustees.
Full details of the charity will be announced to the funeral trade, and other professionals who work with bereaved parents at the seminar, which is entitled Time to Talk – a focus on Baby and Child Bereavement.
Roger Gale explains: “This event provides the perfect opportunity to create awareness of the new Child Funeral Charity and to call on everyone who works within the industry for their support.
“Although many funeral directors, clergy and celebrants don’t charge for children’s funerals, there are other expenses such as a coffin, a vehicle, flowers and service sheets for the ceremony that all add up. Whether a family has lost a baby through a pre-term loss or stillbirth; a child through a life limiting illness or something more sudden such as an accident; the last thing they want to worry about is how to pay for the funeral. That’s where CFC can step in, but in order to do so, we need the support of funeral industry professionals to work with us as preferred suppliers and to help with fundraising. This is a very emotional time for families and I am sure many in the trade will agree that anything we can do to help alleviate the financial burden will be very much appreciated.”
Delegates are expected to be drawn from a range of bereavement-related professionals, including funeral directors, hospice staff, registrars, hospital bereavement officers and/or midwives, bereavement counsellors, other charities, celebrants, faith representatives and others.
As well as providing financial support, if required, CFC can also put families in touch with other appropriate bereavement charities.
If you’d like to go along and support this new charity, and find out more about it, event details and booking form are on this link or you can download them here: CFC Seminar Flyer — CFC Booking form
enquiries@childfuneralcharity.org.uk
or call 01480 276088
In an article in a recent Spectator magazine, Elizabeth Hardman reflects on the problems that beset males today:
The idea of women having a rotten deal has become so firmly entrenched in British public life that we have become blind to the problem emerging for the boys.
Hardman gives evidence, including the suicide rate:
This year the Office for National Statistics reported that young men are no longer the group most likely to kill themselves. That is because men in their early forties have taken over as the most vulnerable group. Men in general account for 77 per cent of all suicides in the United Kingdom, up from 63 per cent in the 1980s. The suicide rate for men in their forties is the highest it has ever been. The overall suicide rate is down, but that’s driven mainly by a decrease in women taking their lives — the rate for female suicides has halved since 1981. The male suicide rate has fallen by just 8 per cent since then.
Hardman concludes:
But while our political debate quite comfortably lumps certain problems together as ‘women’s issues’, there is a noticeable reluctance to do the same for men, or to worry about our sons. Last month, opposition MPs and journalists kicked up a stink about the new women’s minister, Nicky Morgan, not being senior enough. Perhaps on the basis of the trends we’re seeing today, we also need a minister for men.
From The Times obituary for Walter Walsh:
Walter Walsh killed people for a living. He was exceptionally good at it. But unlike many in his line of work, he never shot anyone who didn’t need shooting. Both as an FBI agent in the 1930s and as a marine officer during the Second World War, he comported himself with unfailing courage, steely determination and, in spite of all, a modest, unassuming humanity.
On October 12, 1937, the Brady Gang, a murderous band of armed robbers led by the notorious Al Brady, were tracked down to Bangor, Maine, where they had negotiated the purchase of a quantity of automatic weapons. Unknown to the gang, the owner of the store had contacted the FBI, whose men were waiting.
Agents, led by Walsh, arrested James Dalhover, a three-time killer, the moment he entered the premises but a second man, Clarence Shafer, was close behind, gun in hand. He opened fire immediately. Walsh, standing just feet away on the inside of the glass door, took a bullet in his chest and another — a lucky shot — to his right-hand, rendering his Colt 45 useless. Without missing a beat, the FBI man returned fire with the .357 Magnum in his left hand, killing Shaffer instantly. Bleeding from his wounds, he then ran out into the street, where Brady was exchanging fire with other FBI agents, to deliver the coup de grâce.
Russell “Rusty” Gibson. Gibson was not a man to be crossed. Wearing a crudely-made bullet-proof vest and armed with a Browning automatic rifle, classified as a light machinegun, he was determined that he would not be taken alive. Walsh granted him his wish. When the two met in a narrow alleyway, they each opened fire. “He shot high,” Walsh recalled. “I didn’t.”
Walter Walsh, marksman, was born on May 4, 1907. He died on April 29, 2014, aged 106
The Birmingham Post reports the takeover by Laurel of 2 undertakers, WH Scott and Earl & Co.
Scott’s is a business with no website but masses of barnacles heritage and a noble lineage stretching back over five generations. We trust that the present generation, the one that brought the proud dynasty to an end by cashing in the family silver, has trousered an absurdly high sum for the business.
So far, so banal. Laurel is in predatory mode just now, seeking whom it may devour. Yawn.
What makes the BrumPo article so funny is the statement by Laurel ceo, Deborah Kemp, who is not only a whiz with jargon but also has a wicked way with a metaphor. She says:
“As is our approach with all the brands in our collective, we will look to retain the personality and individuality of each brand while ensuring both businesses benefit from working under the Laurel umbrella.”
[Laughter]
“With a strong pipeline of funeral businesses expressing an interest in joining the collective, these acquisitions are the first of a number of selective purchases that we intend to make in 2014.”
[Groans]
“Not only will this activity bolster our foothold in key locations and further cement our position in the sector, it will continue to highlight to the industry both the robustness of our offering and our credibility as an acquirer of funeral businesses.”
[Hoots]
Deborah, Deborah, all this fine, fighting talk about cementing your pipeline under your umbrella and not one word, not even a single syllable in your public statement about what a great deal this is for bereaved people.
It is, isn’t it?
Rituals for Our Lives
A Rites of Passage Autumn School
led by Gilly Adams and Sue Gill
Monday, September 29th – Friday, October 3rd 2014
Halsway Manor, National Centre for the Folk Arts, Halsway Lane, Nr. Crowcombe, Somerset TA4 4BD
It takes courage to mark key moments of change in our lives, especially if they are associated with difficulty or loss. Consciously celebrating these transitions helps us to let go of the past and move forward but it can be hard to draw attention to ourselves or to know exactly what to do. This intensive course offers answers to some of these dilemmas through an exploration of the rituals of our everyday lives. Together we can build the confidence and skills necessary to create our own distinctive and appropriate ceremonies. The extensive grounds of Halsway Manor will enable us to work in the landscape as well as indoors.
The course is both theoretical and creative with: hands-on making; writing for ceremony; choosing music, poetry and visual imagery; using symbolic objects and working with the elements. There is also a focus on professional development and the competences necessary to become an independent celebrant.
It is intended for those working in the arts, in community, healing and complementary therapies and mental health settings, as well as face to face with families. Participants are likely to share a desire to find new relevance and contexts for their work.
The workshop will begin at 4pm on Monday 29th September and finish after lunch on Friday, October 3rd. This is our first fully residential autumn school and is longer than recent workshops. Gilly Adams and Sue Gill have been working together for many years and bring their own particular brand of humour and insight to the task of sharing their practical experience of secular celebrancy.
THERE ARE JUST 12 PLACES ON THIS WORKSHOP – and the first 4 are taken.
Fully residential: £505 Non residential: £405 (includes lunch and supper)
Fees need to be paid up in full to secure a place. To book contact SUE GILL
Get in touch to discuss payment by instalments.
“If we want the deaths our lives deserve, we need to start talking about it,” advises a Times leader today.
Yes, it’s Dying Matters Awareness week and all Funeralworld is a-flutter with wheezes to “start the conversation” and encourage people to make a will, jot down their end-of-life wishes and their funeral wishes, even sort out their digital legacy.
As ever, the narrative from Dying Matters is that “discussing dying and making end of life plans remain a taboo for many people.” A possible problem here is that the stats supporting this statement offer comfort to the ‘deniers’ by showing them they are with the majority. Most people, after all, want to be where everybody else is.
And, by gum, the deniers constitute a big majority: 83% of people say they are uncomfortable discussing dying and death. 51% say they are unaware of their partner’s end of life wishes. 63% haven’t written a will. 64% haven’t registered as an organ donor or got a donor card. 71% of people haven’t let someone know their funeral wishes. 94% haven’t written down their wishes or preferences about their future care, should they be unable to make decisions for themselves.
If you reckon it important for people to get their death admin sorted, the present state of affairs is dire. But Dying Matters reckons that 400,000 more people aged 5-75 are talking about this unappetising stuff now than 5 years ago. This, surely, ought to be the headline figure. No one wants to feel left behind.
The difficulty in chivvying people to ‘get their shit together’ is, of course, that it brings them face to face with the terrifying fact of their own extinction:
A week? or twenty years remain
And then–what kind of death?
A losing fight with frightful pain
Or a gasping fight for breath?
There’s this comfy consensus among people in the death business that if you can bring yourself to confront your fear of dying your fears will magically melt away and your life will be gloriously enriched. It ain’t necessarily so. On the contrary, thinking about death can magnify the terror – why wouldn’t it?
For the end is likely to be disagreeable. Sherwin Nuland, in his book How We Die, wrote: “I have not seen much dignity in the process by which we die. The quest to achieve true dignity fails when our bodies fail.”
Nuland wrote his book 20 years before his death in March this year. Did the contemplation of his own mortality induce equable acceptance? Here’s an extract from his obit in The Times:
It is not given to many of us to set the stage for our own demise. For the surgeon and medical ethicist Sherwin Nuland, author of the bestselling How We Die: Reflections on Life’s Final Chapter, the climax of his personal drama, with the audience watching intently and the curtain poised to fall, had been scripted years before and never needed revision. Yet when the time came, Nuland was reluctant to play the part, remaining in the wings, unsure of his lines, not ready to make his last entrance.
According to his daughter Amelia, he talked incessantly about what was happening to him. “I’m not scared of dying,” he told her, “but I’ve built such a beautiful life and I’m not ready to leave it.” Finally, as the end drew near, he seemed “scared and sad”, as if the morbidity of his lifelong preoccupation had, somewhat ironically, rendered him unable to confront the reality.
If only talking about it really did earn us “the deaths our lives deserve” and, in the words of Mayur Lakhani, chair of the Dying Matters Coalition, “enable people to become more comfortable in discussing dying, death and bereavement.”
But if not talk, what else is there?
Over on the Mindfulness and Mortality blog, in a discussion about funeral eulogies, Gloriamundi asks a good question:
“Why do we seem to feel the need to sum up a life and pass judgement on it?”
He goes on: “The torrent of unqualified praise that falls on someone who has just died is an expression of sorrow and compassion, of course.” He wonders, though, if “the only way to set the balance straight and strive for a more balanced, seemingly accurate picture would be to talk about the less angelic side of someone’s nature.”
Gloriamundi concludes: “Who are we to pronounce judgement upon the flickering, shimmering transience of a personality? The imperfect wonders of a human life? Let’s accept the limits of human judgement and not encumber a funeral with verdicts.”
Instead: “How much better to have people tell us, directly or via the celebrant, what the person meant to them. How much better to have anecdotes and stories that illustrate some well-known characteristics; they bring about the smiles of recognition and affectionate grief, they mean much more than generalised and abstract judgements.”
It’s a perennial question: what exactly is the purpose of a funeral eulogy within the context of a funeral rite?
Well, what are the expectations of the audience? Do those who come to a funeral expect an evaluation of the dead person?
Yes, they probably do, don’t they? Religious people, for sure, believe that death is when we render our final account to God and receive, in awe and trembling, some sort of verdict on our life. As the Bible says, on the Day of Judgement, “who shall stand when he appeareth? for he [is] like a refiner’s fire, and like fullers’ soap.”
God is less like fullers’ soap nowadays, more of a mate, but nonetheless: there’s a widespread sense among the unchurched, too, that death is a time for totting up and taking stock. Unbelievers and those of fuzzy faith want their celebrant to deliver a final reckoning, albeit with a much massaged bottom line – more soft soap than fullers’.
So perhaps Gloriamundi and her/his kind ought to view a eulogy as, essentially, an exercise in creative accounting.
But for a eulogist to try and meet the expectations of the audience if those buy cialis malaysia expectations are no more than a cultural hand-me-down is, some would argue, no longer useful nor necessary — it’s time, now, to set aside the traditional funeral in favour of a more apt vehicle. If so, what would that vehicle look like?
As it happens, the eminent humanist Harold Blackman designed one. He questioned the focus on the corpse and the usefulness of the public funeral ritual. He favoured a private, corpse-free (‘unencumbered’) funeral ritual – he called it a memorial meeting – featuring, in the words of his eulogist, Nigel Collins, a “reasonably full, frank and above all honest account of the subject – so, crucially, more a multi-faceted tribute than an idealised eulogy.” This looks very close to the Gloriamundi position.
In Blackman’s words: “Modern humanists should not make much of funeral rites, disposal of the body, attendance on it at the tomb; rather, they should encourage friends and relatives to come together to contribute from their memories and impressions to the creation of a new image of the person they knew, harvesting what was cultivated and produced in life.”
Again: “Even for the most private person, the unencumbered memorial meeting is the real tribute to the dead and the real admonition to the living, for it helps to redeem the loss in a living image and it asks for a life worth valuing. The concentration and collective contribution of the memorial meeting can raise and reinforce the image of the lost person with the sharpness of finality that survives dispersion. This should be a harvest ritual rather than a tomb ritual.”
When Blackman first proposed these ideas to the Royal Society in 1967 he encountered “violent protest … Many of [the Fellows] at least could not tolerate the idea of not paying respect to the dead in the customary way.”
That was almost 50 years ago. Blackman died in 2009 at the ripe age of 105 and was accorded a memorial meeting according to his own model — here. He would be interested to observe the waning of the focus on the corpse that seems to be under way today. And he’d probably like the cut of Gloriamundi’s jib.
Dying Matters Awareness Week kicks off next Monday. Over at DeadSocial, James Norris is getting his awareness-raising in early. He’s holding another of his pop-up shops — venue: 69 Camden High Street, London.
On Tuesday, there was an art exhibition.
Yesterday, the Natural Death Centre did its thing — lots of good stuff about thinking ahead (before you’re brown bread), cutting costs and achieving a more personal funeral. All the big guns blazed. I bet it was good.
Today it’s all about palliative care and carers.
Tomorrow it’s the turn of the Reclaiming Funerals Collective, whose “work is all about helping people to reclaim the funeral as a community event, as an authentic grieving ritual that calls upon natural imagination, authentic emotions and collective resources. Affordability and practicality is at the core of what they do, supporting those with minimal resources to help create beautiful funerals for their loved ones.” We’ll be there for that.
On Friday, Leverton’s are hosting an Ask The Undertaker session followed, in the evening, by Save The Male, a “comedy, poetry and music showcase, raising awareness of the male suicide prevention charity CALM. Compered by stand-up poet Jack Rooke and curated by Cecilia Knapp, the showcase aims to encourage and inspire people of all ages to engage in creative expression. CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) are a charity working endlessly to tackle the statistic that suicide is the biggest killer of young men in the UK.”
On Friday, from 8pm til late, there will be “live music, drinks and industry networking aplenty” at the DeadSocial Party.
This is an amazing achievement by James Norris, who we’re looking forward to getting to know better. To us he looks very like the future.
Full details of all events here.
Another day in the life of the Vintage Lorry Hearse.
Often David Hall, of Vintage Lorry Funerals, is asked what happens if it rains during a funeral. Although under the deck of the 1950 Leyland Beaver there is a slide out drawer with a purpose built translucent sheet, this has been used only once in 200 funerals, and this was only because the final wish from a former Lorry Driver was that his coffin should be sheeted like a load!
Whilst it can rain during the time that the flowers are being loaded, normally, apart from one exception in 13 years, the rain stops when the coffin is presented to the side roller. During inclement weather, when the flower display is being assembled, a tarpaulin is used to protect the area of the deck where the coffin will be positioned just before the cortege departs. This facility was used during a rainy morning in Carshalton whilst the flower display was being built for Bobby Dudley. The interesting things that happened whilst the front section of the display was being built, was featured in last month’s article and in this article the amazing events which occurred just before the coffin was loaded are described.
Eight Family Floral Tributes, that were planned, were supplemented by 58 tributes from friends and more distant related Family members, making 66 in total. Every Tribute was a substantial Spray, Wreath or Tablet, such as a ‘Heart’ and there were no small Bouquets from High Street Retailers. David loaded 65 Floral Tributes on the deck but couldn’t find the appropriate space for a giant ‘Basket of Flowers’, which was then hung on the Drawbar A-Frame, in front of the Radiator Grill. In the creation of such a large scale flower display members of the public gaze in wonderment and some offer assistance. When David was climbing up the ladder to get onto the deck, with a huge Floral Tribute in his right hand and a cup of tea, kindly made by George Hards, in his left hand, an onlooker stepped forward and took the cup out of David’s hand. This kind person continued to hold it, giving David the occasional sip of tea as he passed by with two Tributes in his hands.
Just before the coffin was due to be loaded, David folded over both edges of the tarpaulin which had protected the deck, creating something that looked like a sodden roll of carpet, with a huge volume of water trapped inside. David needed some assistance to transfer the tarpaulin onto the ground and he asked for a volunteer from the group of school boys standing at the Bus Stop. One young man stepped forward and grabbed the end of the tarpaulin, but didn’t follow David’s instructions about standing back as David raised his end of the tarpaulin. Unfortunately a torrent of water gushed out from the end of the tarpaulin at the lower level, and the young man, who wasn’t wearing any weather protection, was soaked. The young man swore profusely using many expletives, thinking that he had been tricked and that David had made a fool out of him. His mood wasn’t helped by his friends all falling about with laughter. If this hadn’t been a funeral, then the scene would have been reminiscent of the 1971 Morecombe & Wise Christmas Show Spectacular, ‘Singing in the Rain’ in which Ernie Wise, with the umbrella, saw no rain and Eric Morecombe, dressed as a Policeman, saw plenty.
Whilst the group of boys were laughing, David noticed a mean looking youth, who was taller than the rest, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. David guessed that this individual was the leader of the gang and he was going to remonstrate with David for disrespecting one of his crew. The youth approached David, and in a softly spoken voice asked, ‘May I be of some assistance?’ David explained the potential hazardous nature of the exercise, and the youth, pointing to his leggings and said, ‘I’m prepared for the task’. As the tarpaulin was sliding over the side rave the youth noticed the two seams in the canvass and asked if the tarpaulin folded into three, two ends into the middle. David nodded and the youth immediately folded his end perfectly in place before guiding David’s end on top of it, such that a well shaped bundle resulted. As David climbed down from the deck, the youth asked, ‘Does the tarp now go into that space left underneath the rear flower display?’ David nodded and with the youth’s help the heavy tarpaulin was positioned perfectly in the hole at the first attempt. David put his hand in his pocket and took out some money to reward the youth. The youth folded his arms and said, ‘I don’t want no money, this world would be a better place if we could all help each other more.’
In the cemetery David off-loaded the 65 Floral Tributes from the deck, but forgot about the ‘Basket of Flowers’ that were still on the A-Frame. However, he was stopped at the cemetery gates and he returned to the graveside.