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Three fresh-faced funeral directors discuss the job they love and how it changed their views on life—and life insurance.

By: Amanda Prischak

They’re young. They’re cool. And they’re… funeral directors?

Yes, such people do exist. And their insights into their profession might make you rethink everything you thought about it.

Another thing they might make you rethink? The need for life insurance, being that they see firsthand the role a good policy plays in covering final arrangements—and in providing for those left behind.

The Author (and Pinup Model)
Todd Harra, funeral director, McCrery & Harra Funeral Homes and Crematory, Wilmington, Del.

Thirty-year-old funeral director Todd Harra hasn’t just organized hundreds of services. He’s also coauthored Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt, a tell-all collection of short stories about being a funeral director, and served as Mr. January in the 2008 edition of the Men of Mortuaries male calendar. (Both sold very well.)

“I like my job’s personal interaction and that each day is different—though that can be the most aggravating part,” says Todd, a fourth-generation funeral director who often works during major holidays.

Easing the stress of a loved one’s passing is preparation. “People are so grateful when life insurance kicks in to pay for a service,” he says. (As we reported in “Why do funerals cost so much?”, the average funeral costs $9,111.)

Unfortunately, not all cases are so smooth. “I’ve seen a lot of sad situations in which we’ve had to counsel families into a less expensive service with a more economical casket, eliminate the limo service or even switch to a cremation instead of a full burial,” says Todd. “You see family members dipping into their 401(k)s, scrounging for a loan or requesting donations to cover funeral expenses in lieu of flowers.”

The Diva
Lori Diaz, funeral director, Diehl-Whittaker Funeral Services, Columbus, Ohio

For Lori, a career in the funeral industry happened by chance. “I researched funeral homes for a class in grad school,” the 37-year-old wife and mother of two teenage girls remembers. “I thought it would be a good fit for me, so I decided to do an apprenticeship.”

Her hunch was spot-on. “I love helping people, and I feel like I’m making a difference,” says Lori, who works at the oldest African-American-owned and run mortuary in Columbus, Ohio, and is a regular blogger on funeraldivas.com. “I walk families through a difficult time and help them plan a celebration of their loved one’s life. I don’t deal with the dead—I deal with the living,” she says.

Lori, an ERIE Customer with Andrew Insurance Associates in Powell, Ohio, says her on-the-job experiences shaped her views on life insurance.

“I see families all the time scaling down a service or delaying it a week so they can borrow money,” she says. “It’s so worth it to have even a small policy to take care of arrangements—not to mention taking care of the loved ones left behind.”

She continues, “I have a policy and wish others would educate themselves. I often see how even a small, inexpensive policy can help a grieving family immensely in the aftermath of someone passing.”

The TV Star
Caleb Wilde, funeral director, Wilde Funeral Home, Parkesburg, Pa.

Caleb always wanted to help people, but he never thought his sixth-generation family business would be the vehicle to do that. Instead, he did overseas humanitarian work. But that funding stream dwindled, so he returned home—to the funeral home, that is.

Since then, the 30-year-old has launched “Confessions of a Funeral Director,” a blog featuring his insights into the profession, the grieving process and mortality. It attracts 20,000 to 30,000 readers every month—and the eye of 20/20, which recently broadcasted a clip of Caleb’s musings on being a funeral director.

“We are like mainstream pastors who provide comfort to those in pain,” he explains. “Some people do paperwork—we do people work.”

Still, there’s only so much he and the staff at the 162-year-old Wilde Funeral Home can do to ease certain pains. “Every few months, I plan the service of a deceased breadwinner who had no contingency plan,” says Caleb, who bought a life insurance policy before adopting a son earlier this year. “I remember one gentleman who passed away unexpectedly without a life insurance policy, leaving his wife and four kids to fend for themselves—it was incredibly sad.”

Exacerbating the problem is the growing trend of funeral homes requiring full payment up front. “We don’t do it, but families facing that situation undergo a massive amount of stress, especially when they have to downgrade a service,” he says.

Though he acknowledges that it’s hard to talk about dying, Caleb says there are many benefits to doing so.

“Planning ahead for the unexpected can help you live more fully and have peace of mind knowing your loved ones will be taken care of.”

J.R. and I at our seminary graduation. I'm not very photogentic when I smile, which is okay because I rarely smile ... because funeral directors rarely smile.

This past week my good friend J.R. Briggs interviewed me over at his blog.  J.R. is one of my favorite people in the whole entire world.  We met each other in a seminary class on the history of hermeneutics.  And while the class was mostly exciting, the duller moments were filled with us trading IM conversations.

J.R. describes himself as such: Husband. Daddy. Friend. Author. Shepherd. Teacher. Follower of Jesus. Church planter. Peace-maker. Rule-breaker. Dreamer.

J.R.’s mentor and pastor is Eugene Peterson (the author of The Message [J.R. and Eugene wrote a book together called "The Message//REMIX Solo").  Eugene is Bono's (of U2 fame) pastor.  Thanks to J.R., I'm can totally say that I know someone, who knows someone who is Bono's mentor.  Really me and Bono are like besties 4 eva!  Holla at my boy!

You can catch J.R. interview of me here.

Also, catch J.R.'s latest post entitled, "[ 10 ] Ways to Help Those Who Are Grieving“. It’s a fantastic post, full of wisdom.

Enjoy.

Today, we are still growing our family ….

Somebody at the studio had been reading my blog and thought I’d fit into a segment called “True Confessions.”

As a condition to the interview, I asked the producer to be respectful toward my family’s business as I didn’t want our 160 year old reputation to be sullied in a two minute nationally televised TV show.  They accepted my stipulation, so I agreed to the interview.

I only told a couple friends that 20/20 was interviewing me (actually, I don’t think I told anyone … my immediate family did most of the telling … and I told them not to tell too many people because I was afraid I’d look like a moron).  It aired last Friday and I think one or two of you caught it and gave me a text/tweet/facebook shout out.

John Berman was the interviewer.  He was a pleasant person.  Harvard educated.  A New England sports fan.  Very relaxed and generous in person.

The producer was a tall, pensive, well-spoken man.  At one point I say, “People sometimes buy (caskets) out of guilt.”  That line was at the producer’s prompt.  The association between guilt and an expensive funeral fancied him.

The camera and sound crew were all local guys who were independent contractors.  Some were out of West Chester, others out of Philly.  And I liked them all … the main cameraman was especially entertaining (did you know that professional cameras start at around $70,000?).

I had my suit dry cleaned, bought a new dress shirt and tie, created and purchased “Wilde Funeral Home” t-shirts for all the crew and had one sleepless night all for two minutes of national televised face time.

Even though they forgot to post my twitter handle on air, it was a good experience and so far (based off the responses I’ve received) the Parkesburg community seems to be proud of the fact that 20/20 came out to Parkesburg.

Here’s a couple behind the scenes shots.

Here’s the video.

This ultimate act of bravery is now made possible through the advancements of 21st Century technology.  We can actually film our last words.  And we can do more than film our last words.  With internet sites like “My Own Eulogy”, you can not only film your eulogy, but build a 21st Century “memorial site” … a library of videos to be shared with loved ones when you pass.

I saw a part of the movie “Get Low” last night which tells the tale of a man who knew he was going to die so he wanted to have his funeral service before he breathed his last.  It’s a great idea that few of us could accomplish even if we wanted to because we simply don’t know know our death date (would you want to know it?).

I’ve planned that each year I’d record a brief video of myself, where I briefly state what happened this past year, what major events occurred, etc.  If I starting doing it now, and create a new one each year, I could then have somebody cut up each video and make it into a brief bio video timeline that could be played at my funeral … as my eulogy. There could be like a 20 second clip from each year and you could see the progression of my aging as the years role by.

“If I Die” just developed a Facebook app that allows you to send out posthumous Facebook messages/videos/updates to friends and family.

And I’m sure as all these ghost Facebook pages accumulate, Facebook will eventually find a way to create a memorial section … a Facebook grave site or sorts.

For the most part, the funeral industry is about 10 to 20 years behind the rest of the world simply because we service the oldest generation.  But within the next 10 to 20 years, I image we will see more and more innovative sites like “My Own Eulogy” (MOE is ahead of the curve) that allow us to speak from the grave.

Here’s my first attempt to “record my own eulogy” that I made for “My Own Eulogy”‘s website.  It was all extemporaneous and I went over the recommended time limit of three minutes.  But, it was a decent first try.

It was definitely hard … it was hard trying to think of words that you’d want to live forever.  My forever words for my family and friends.   And, it was mainly hard because I’ve yet to meet my children, so I’m not really sure what “forever words” I should say to them.

And, I might add, this is kind of a vulnerable video, so if you’re feeling snarky today or you’re just trolling, please resist the temptation to point out my receding hair line or my knack for fumbling for words … or the fact that my nostrils flare when I’m trying to be serious.

So now that you’ve seen the video that I posted (or as much of mine as you could handle, or your lunch time would allow), head on over to “My Own Eulogy” and record your own.  And be sure to check out Alba’s eulogy … it’s pretty cool!

What would you want to say in your eulogy?  What would be your “forever words”?

In the middle of a funeral: “Beep!”

In the middle of dinner: “Beep!”

In the middle of the night: “Beep!”

I’d turn my cell phone off, but I’m on call 24/7, every day of the week so I have to keep it on.

This past Friday night at around 11 PM my phone starts going off about every 30 seconds, notifying me of a new twitter follower.  After about a dozen new twitter followers I begin to get slightly suspicious and start doing some Twitter research to see why so many people would want to follow a funeral director.

And then I see this:

“I wrote that”, I thought to myself.

I was pretty sure it was a mistake, so I replied:

To which Relevant responded:

To be fair – for those of you who aren’t familiar with StumbleUpon – the effect of SU can produce a false positive in that the hits SU produces are more quantity and less quality.   Yes, I beat out Rock Star Rob Bell’s exclusive interview with Relevant … but let’s be serious, I’m just a funeral director.

But still … more hits than an exclusive interview with Rob Bell … at the height of “Love Wins”?!?!

I went to bed with my head expanding with hot air as I pondered this question:, “Hmmm … what perks does this accomplishment entitle me to at the Funeral Home?”

Maybe a couple “Get out of Doing Morgue Work” passes.

Sporting a normal plastic morgue apron, with fashionable scarf and the traditional "funeral director smile". Also, I'm sick in this photo.

Could I get a company car that’s a Lamborghini converted into a hearse?

Possibly I’m entitled to a golden Trocar with my name engraved in it.

Or, maybe they should make a prize that’s given to the most famous funeral director in Parkesburg, and give out the inaugural trophy to yours truly.

Instead of a trophy, maybe the prize could be a diamond encrusted, genuine leather morgue apron that says, “Most Famous Funeral Director in Parkesburg 2011.”

Actually, though, I’m more like the fifth famous funeral director in Parkesburg.  As we’re the only funeral home in Parkesburg and the rest of my family is by far much more well known than me.  People still say, “Oh, you’re Bill’s son” or, “You must be Bud’s grandson.”  Few here in Parkesburg know my first name.

I couldn’t in good conscious take that diamond crusted apron of awesomeness.

Then I speculated, “Could Rob Bell call me up and want to prearrange his funeral with me?”  Then I could hold the title as “The Only Man to Bury Rob Bell.”

Maybe the Relevant post entitles me to a raise at the funeral home … and at this point in my late night day dreaming I started to fall asleep.  Only to be awoken early the next morning (New Year’s Eve) by the sound of my buzzing phone.

“Hellooo” I said in a voice that was attempting to mask the fact that I just woke up.  It was my dad on the other line and I could tell his tone that he was a step away from being peeved.

“Didn’t you get my text?” he asked.

“No.”  I responded, “My phone was on vibrate last night.”  I said this while thinking to myself “it’s on vibrate because I’m so freakin famous.”

“Well, I texted you some time ago.  We have a call at the hospital.  Get your clothes on and come to work.”

Reality sets in.  The expanded cabaza begins to deflate.  No diamond encrusted apron awaits me.  No “Get out of Doing Morgue Work” passes.  And since I’m late, there will definitely be no raise.

****

This “most popular article” news comes at about the one year anniversary of me deciding it’s time to get serious about writing/blogging.

That commitment to blogging coincided with me finding Bryan Allain’s blog and buying his book.  Now, a year later, I’m beginning to touch a small segment of the world where Jesus likes to dwell … with the weak and the broken.  I want to see people worship God through their sorrow.  That’s why I write.

Maybe next year I’ll get my diamond studded morgue apron.

But the fact is this: I’m simply a sensitive person … I’ve been that way as long as I can remember.

I’m not the “sensitive guy” that gets his feelings hurt over small relational misgivings.  Nor am I “that guy” that cries at sad commercials (okay, so that Sarah McLachlan animal cruelty commercial brings tears close to the surface) .

No. I’m the type that feels for others to such a degree that I have to consciously control my heart with my mind.  Like people who have big minds and poor social skills, or jocks with mad ball skills but little brain skills, I’ve had to recognize that having a “big heart” makes me slightly inept in other areas.

But things that “normal” people don’t mind killing — like a fly or mice — me and my over sensitivity tend to let live.

I hate killing things.  Anything.  I should qualify that “anything” by saying “anything except stink bugs.”

*****

This past month we noticed that our dog picked up one or two fleas.  At the same time we noticed we had new friends living with us … a family of mice invaded our 170 year old kitchen.  My first thought was that the fleas on our dog and the mice in our kitchen were probably connected and so, wanting to keep our house free of the side-effects of fleas, which can include infestation, raw skin on Yogi from over itching and even tape worms, I set out to dispose of the mice and the fleas.

I like to kill mice as humanely as possible.  So I stay away from poison and use those good ‘ol Victor Traps, as they make a mice’s death quick and painless.

Or so I thought.

After disposing of about three mice painlessly, I got home from work to find a mouse with his leg stuck in the trap.  I tried, as best I could, to repress my own pain over this mouse’s broken leg, and to approach the situation rationally.  I thought to myself, “How can I get this guy out of my house without killing him?”

So, not thinking too hard about it, I walked about a quarter mile and released him into the wild.

“Mouse out of house … maimed leg, but he still had a good possibility of living”, I consoled myself.

*****

We’ve been keeping Yogi out of the kitchen with a child’s gate so that he doesn’t get his curious nose stuck in a Victor.  But last night, after I came home late, I grabbed a bowl of cereal and forgot to close the gate and Yogi came wondering in with me.

He stayed away from the Victor trap, but wondered over to a little hidden corner and started sniffing around.  I yelled at him and he, like most stubborn Lhasa Apsos, responded little to my verbal rebukes.   I grabbed his collar, pulled him away and saw what he was sniffing.

There in the corner was a mouse.  Just sitting there.  He didn’t seem stunned by the dog … just tired … like he had been poisoned.  I quickly grabbed a Tupperware container and trapped him.  He didn’t seem to care too much.  I then put a big dollop of peanut butter on top of a mouse trap and figured by morning we’d have one less mouse and be a step closer to flealessness.

I was wrong.  About the mouse.  He didn’t fall for the trap.

In the morning, there he was, barely breathing, but still alive.  I grabbed a latex glove and picked him up by the tail only to notice his right rear leg was maimed.  “No!” I thought to myself.  After three days, that poor mouse had found his way back into our house … back to his home.

And I knew what I had to do, but my heart said “no.”  I wrestled with the idea of nursing him back to health; and maybe in another time of my life I would have, but I’ve trained myself to put my mind over my sensitivities and so I took him outside and made his death as quick and painless as I possibly could.

And I don’t know what’s more sad: the fact that I’m such a sap or that I killed this poor little maimed mouse?

When I think of a “Friendship Creator” I think of a relational artist. I think of a person who is a magical conversationalist and a magnetic personality; someone who can bring friendships into existence ex nihilo by their sheer creative warmness.  Somebody who is able to process their thoughts in a conversation, and make that process enjoyable and fun for the other.

For me, my friendships always evolved. They arise out of circumstances that I don’t necessarily control, but that I’m apart of cultivating.  My greatest friendships have arisen out of the primordial ooze of shared experiences; like the fish, randomly growing legs and walking out of the ocean, most of my friendship have evolved based adaptation.

Do you create friendships or do your friendship mainly evolve?  I know it’s a little of both, but how do most of your friendships start?

You’d think I’d be looking forward to being done, but I’m kind of sad cause I’m a dork.  I love studying and honestly, going to school gives me an extremely good excuse to study all the time.

But, there is one reason I’m excited about finishing school … when I finish, I’ll have the time to read the books I want to read. So here are my top four books on my “Must Read” list, which is always subject to change:

I’m half way through the Berry book and I haven’t had the time to finish it.  Love me some Wendell and can’t wait keep reading.

There are some honorable mentions, which I might get to when I finish the above books, and they are:

“The Sabbath” by Abraham Heschel.

“Traveling Mercies” by Anne Lamott.

“Culture Making” by Andy Crouch.

“Personal Knowledge” by Michael Polanyi.

TWO QUESTIONS FOR YOU:

1.  What books are at the top of your “must read” list?

2.  Do you have any books that you’d recommend … cause I’m always looking for great reads!