Caleb Wilde
(218 comments, 980 posts)
Posts by Caleb Wilde
Barbie Doll Mummification: A how-to guide for morbid children
This from Geyser of Awesome:
If you’re looking for an awesome rainy day or ‘It’s way too hot to go outside today’ activity, why not have a go at Barbie doll mummification? It’s all kinds of morbid, geeky fun. Heather and her daughter Izzy started with a trip to the library and some research to create an adorably macabre step-by-step “How to Make a Mummy” list. Then the gathered and/or made all the necessary materials. Barbie’s internal organs and ceremonial death mask are paper cutouts. They used a seam ripper in place of the special tool that ancient Egyptians used to pull the brain out through the nose and a shoebox for the sarcophagus and burial chamber. They also included a tiny toy kitty, because they were sacred to the Egyptians and sometimes part of the burial process.
Visit the Kids Activities Blog for additional photos and a complete description of the Barbie mummification process.
The Corpse Bride of Mexico: Is this a dead girl or a mannequin?
This from Oddity Central:
La Pascualita or Little Pascuala is a bridal mannequin that has “lived” in a store window in Chihuahua, Mexico for the past 75 years. That is quite a long time for a bridal gown shop to retain a mannequin, but then the dummy has a rather strange history behind it.
La Pascualita was first installed in the store window on March 25th, 1930, dressed in a spring-seasonal bridal gown. Soon, people realized that the mannequin closely resembled the shop’s owner at the time, Pascuala Esparza. It didn’t take long for them to come to the conclusion that the dummy was in fact the embalmed body of her daughter, who had died recently on her wedding day after being bitten by a Black Widow spider. This revelation did not go very well with the locals, and they started to express their disapproval. But by the time Pascuala could issue an official statement denying the rumors, it was too late. Nobody was willing to believer her. The daughter’s name has been lost over time, and ‘La Pascualita’ stuck through the years.
Here are the photos:
Here are my thoughts:
1. Embalming. We’ve seen Lenin and other famous corpses last for years upon years, BUT their bodies have been meticulously cared for by people in the know. Sure, an embalmed body might last a couple years, but for it to be kept in pristine condition, it would have to be continuously cared for by people with some degree of technical skill. If La Pascualita is a corpse, seventy-five years is an impossibly long time for it to remain in such good condition.
2. Climate. A consideration in the longevity of an embalmed corpse is the climate it’s in. If it’s in a dry, arid environment it has a longer chance of lasting (example, the Egyptian mummies). La Pascualita is located in Chihuahua, Mexico, which “lies on the western side of the Chihuahuan Desert ecoregion and as such has a semiarid climate.” Moisture is the kryptonite of an embalmed corpse. The fact that La Pascualita exists in a semiarid environment does help the argument that it’s an embalmed corpse.
3. The hands. If La Pascualita is a wax mannequin or any other type of mannequin, the hands are just too intricate.
4. The facial features. When you embalm a person “hard” (thoroughly flush them with strong embalming fluid), the lips and the eyelids will noticeably “dry out.” They will start to act like a piece of beef jerky in that all the moisture will leave the tissue, leaving it shrunken and wrinkled. IfLa Pascualita is embalmed, the facial features would probably be noticeably dried out. The face simply looks too supple. Of course, the “drying out” could be fixed with the right kind of cosmetology wax.
5. My conclusion. I doubt La Pascualita is a corpse. It simply looks too good to be a 75 year old embalming job. If the corpse is meticulously maintained, I suppose it’s possible (especially in a semiarid environment), but it highly unlikely.
Honestly, though, those hands are the mystery for me. They just look too real.
Cheeky Obit Begins with This Line: “McGroarty Achieves Room Temperature!”
WEST PITTSTON — McGroarty Achieves Room Temperature!
Kevin J. McGroarty, 53, of West Pittston, died Tuesday, July 22, 2014, after battling a long fight with mediocracy.
Born 1960 in the Nesbitt Hospital, he was the bouncing baby boy of the late Lt. Col. Edward M. McGroarty and Helen Jane (Hudson) McGroarty, whom the New York Times should have noted as extraordinary parents.
He was baptized at St. Cecilia Church, Exeter, which later burned to the ground, attended Butler Street Elementary, which was later torn down, and middle school at 6th Street in Wyoming, now an apartment building.
He enjoyed elaborate practical jokes, over-tipping in restaurants, sushi and Marx Brother’s movies. He led a crusade to promote area midget wrestling, and in his youth was noted for his many unsanctioned daredevil stunts.
He was preceded in death by brother, Airborne Ranger Lt. Michael F. McGroarty, and many beloved pets, Chainsaw, an English Mastiff in Spring 2009, Baron, an Irish Setter in August 1982, Peter Max, a turtle, Summer 1968; along with numerous house flies and bees, but they were only acquaintances.
McGroarty leaves behind no children (that he knows of), but if he did their names would be son, “Almighty Thor” McGroarty; and daughter, “Butter Cup Patchouli.”
McGroarty was a veteran of the advertising industry since 1983. McGroarty was a pioneer in Apple computing, purchasing one of the first in the Wyoming Valley in 1985. He would like to remind his friends: “Please, don’t email me, I’m dead.”
McGroraty was a founding partner of Pyramid Advertising, and finally principal owner of award-winning Rhino Media until 2006. He was also an adjunct instructor at Luzerne County Community College, from 2005-2009.
He will be laid to rest at Mount Olivet Cemetery, section 7N. He asks to please make note of his new address. McGroarty’s headstone reads: “I’ll Be Right Back,” one of his favorite sayings. He leaves this world with few regrets, one being told in grade school, his adult life would see the Hershey candy bar rise in cost to over a dollar. He maintained given the resources and initiative, he would rally the good citizens of the Commonwealth to a revolution that would force that price to its original 35-cent market value, a dream he was not able to fulfill, by his own admission the reason: “I was distracted by many beautiful women.”
In lieu of flowers, friends are asked to please give generously to the Pennsylvania State Police Troop “P” Camp Cadet Fund.
A Mass of Christian Burial will be held at 10 a.m. Monday in St. Cecilia Church of St. Barbara Parish, 1700 Wyoming Ave., Exeter, following a brief rant of how the government screwed up all of the Bugs Bunny cartoons trying to sensor violence. This will be presented by his attorney, Bret Zankel, Esq. Friends may call from 9 to 10 a.m. Monday in the church.
McGroarty leaves behind a thought for all to ponder, given years of gathering wisdom from different religions and deep study of the Greek philosophers: “It costs nothing to be nice” and “Never stick a steak knife in an electrical outlet.”
Arrangements by the Metcalfe-Shaver-Kopcza Funeral Home Inc., 504 Wyoming Ave., Wyoming.
The Undertaker
(The gender pronouns are slightly outdated in this poem, but it’s easy enough to substitute she for he.)
Written by Darlene Rush
This is for the undertaker,
Whose story is sad to tell,
For what he does is never mentioned,
and often overlooked as well.
He’s not at all what you might picture,
He’s not wrinkled, old and gray.
His face is not the pasty white,
Like storybooks portray.
Some people laugh and make their jokes,
And some turn up their nose,
And many think that he is strange,
For the life that he has chose.
But there are many things that they don’t see,
And even more that they don’t know.
Like all the nights he gets no rest,
But never lets it show.
I have seen him work both day and night,
With no time to eat or sleep.
To care for those in mourning,
And comfort those who weep.
The load he carries on his shoulders,
Is more than you or I could bear.
But he always seems to find the time,
To show you that he cares.
So when you see the undertaker,
Make sure you see the man,
That does the job that no one wants
And that no one understands.
Take the time to shake his hand,
And a moment to just say “hi.”
I think you’ll find the undertaker,
Is just an ordinary guy.
I Don’t Smile When I Embalm Bodies
***I originally wrote this post last fall***
The other day a contentious discussion brewed on my Confessions of a Funeral Director Facebook page. And I’d like to address the topic in my blog’s forum.
The discussion was kick-started when I posted this status:
The second comment on the above status was from a fellow embalmer named Allison, who said this:
Allison’s initial comment eventual prompted this comment from a former embalmer named Kristie.
First off, let me say it’s possible for an embalmer to be both 100% for tissue/organ donation and not enjoy the process of preparing a donor. It’s possible for us to be both professionals and human. I’m one such funeral director. I am firmly and unequivocally a supporter of those who choose to find life in a tragic death, and yet when a donor body comes through the morgue door, it’s not Christmas morning.
I know that the best donors are usually young and they usually die from tragic (not necessarily violent) circumstances that leave their body in decent condition to be harvested.
I have immense respect for families who — in the midst of incredible tragedy and darkness — find a way to overcome their pain and chose life by allowing for the harvesting of a body they love so dearly. This act of donation is one of the few genuinely unselfish acts to be found in humanity.
Yet, while I recognize the intense moral beauty and life saving value of organ donation, I’m less than excited to embalm and prepare a donor’s bodies.
Each funeral home and funeral director is different. Some funeral homes are large enough to have shift work; still others are large enough to employ full-time embalmers, who basically embalm body after body all day. Some funeral homes have secretaries, prearrangement directors, at-need directors, full-time pick-up people, etc., etc. But for many of us small firms, we play role of embalmer, secretary, pick-up/livery person, funeral director, at-need director and pre-need director. We’re on call 24/7 and rarely have an uninterrupted holiday.
Our personal lives are not just blurred with our professional lives, they become one and the same, often resulting in sad endings. Divorce. Depression. Burnout.
Our pay doesn’t always justify what this profession takes from us. According to the BLS, the average embalmer makes $45,060, which isn’t bad until you consider that the salary often comes at the expense of our souls. I’ve worked 20 hour days. I’ve worked 100 hour weeks. Most months I get two days off.
I was up until 12 midnight writing this post and then at 3:30 AM I was called into work. I won’t be finished work until roughly 5:30 PM.
Here’s a picture of me at the nursing home at 4:40 this morning. The smile is real … the nurses were making fun of me for taking the photo.
And although this isn’t about me and the burdens I carry, I will say that my experience isn’t exceptional. The at-need demand, emotional and long hours take their toll on us as people.
So, when the heart is donated and I have to raise six arteries instead of one, I don’t smile.
When there’s bone donation, I don’t look forward to moving the Styrofoam rods around to make the appendages look natural.
When skin is grafted, I don’t smile when I’m cleaning the seepage off the floor.
When I get various liquids on myself because of the intrinsic messy nature of donor bodies, my face doesn’t crack a grin.
Unless I’m listening to stand-up comedy on the morgue’s radio, I don’t embalm bodies with a smile.
I appreciate Kristie’s assertion that she has never thought about complaining when preparing a body. And I appreciate that she always sees it as an honor. I will be the first to admit that Kristie is probably a better person and funeral director than I am. Maybe her suggestion to Allison (that Allison should find another profession) applies to me as well.
But, I, in contrast to Kristie, think it does us funeral directors well to be honest. Maybe not in a public forum like I’m doing now, but we need to recognize that we’re both professionals and human. We love to serve you, but there’s times when we too need to be helped. We need to fight that perception that to be a professional means being an unfeeling robot. We need to ask for help, sometimes we need to seek counselling. If you’re a funeral director and you don’t embalm donor bodies with a smile, it’s okay.
