An Angel with a White Face

Every town has a few very interesting and eccentric characters. For any number of reasons, and often for reasons that are unknown to anyone but the people themselves, their appearance and or behavior is markedly different from the rest of us.

Local legends grow around these individuals, based on rumors and gossip, in an attempt to explain why this person is so different. Usually, the person is really not so different from the rest of us after all, and the reason behind the differences is something we'll never know for sure.

Unfortunately, these individuals are often the targets of derision and cruelty, but many are regarded with great affection by their communities as well. When they die, we realize that not only could we have been nicer to them while they were alive, but that we ourselves have missed out by not knowing them better. We notice too, that our town isn't the same; it's not as rich and interesting without their presence.

Today, I came across the obituary of 90 year old Martha Davis of Davenport, Iowa. She was a fixture of Davenport, and known by many in the region for her very slow driving, thick white pancake makeup, wigs and gloves. She was also known by some for her sweet, generous nature and love of conversation.

The obituary, posted online at the Quad City Times has drawn many comments from readers who knew her and knew of her. Many just wanted to know why this beautiful black woman wore white makeup and covered her skin. Had there been a disfiguring accident? A skin condition? Heartbreak? A desire to appear to be a white woman? - we'll never know, and perhaps, as many comments suggest, it's not even the point.

Many readers recalled stories of being frightened as children, of cruel pranks and regret. Many share stories of kindness, grace, conversation, and love for a woman who taught them not to judge a book by it's cover.

To read the obituary and comments, visit the Quad City Times (the photo also comes courtesy of the QC Times.)

For the story behind Mrs. Davis, reporter, Bill Wundram has been kind enough to allow me to use excerpts from his November 22 article 'The Woman in the White Face'.

She was known not by her name, but by her face. For 50 years she was “the powder puff lady,” or “the clown woman,” or more starkly, the woman who always wore a white face.

She puzzled most everyone, but was a gentle friend to many. However and whatever, she was the Quad-Cities’ most unique personality.

Now, Martha Davis of Davenport is dead at 90.

True to her wishes, she was laid to rest Saturday with her face in white makeup.

She was an enigma. Martha was a black woman who chose to cover her face in heavy white makeup. It was so thick that it often looked like white pancake batter was spread over her face. She would not bare her hands. Always, even on the hottest summer days, she wore white gloves.

She would shop at Walgreen’s or Aldi in white makeup, wearing one of her assortment of wigs — some flowing black, some curly, often an outrageous blonde. Often, her white cheeks were rouged in bright red. People stared, usually shocked, but Martha would shrug them off as if nothing about her was unusual.

Even after talking to dozens of people, mostly relatives, the reason for Martha’s white makeup is not clear. The riddle was buried with her Saturday at Oakdale Cemetery, after services at Bethel AME Church, Davenport.

FAMILY MEMBERS agree that they don’t know why she chose to look white. They say it was her secret. One says it began in the late 1950s. Of all the reasons, the most logical one comes from her niece, Darlene: “She always wanted to be an angel. Angels are white, and that’s what she wanted to be, an angel.”

Martha’s sister, Lula Rose of Rock Island, says, “She just liked to do it; that’s what she wanted.”

Those who knew her said that despite eccentricities, she was a good neighbor, a kindly person who loved to talk endlessly on the phone. One remembers seeing her, about 1990, at the old Fun Shop in Davenport. She was buying makeup.

Her niece, Darlene, says, “Aunt Martha always said, ‘Promise, put me away right.’ ”

Darlene says she was put away right, in smooth white makeup and wearing a frosted blonde wig.

A Fitting Tribute

12/15/2009

Photos via Mansfield News Journal

What makes a funeral or memorial service meaningful? What makes a tribute fitting and moving? This is an issue that has been of great concern to caring funeral directors for many years now, as we strive to meet the changing needs of families. Many different products have come along from candles to casket corners to photo slideshows and dove releases, all offering an opportunity to personalize the funeral experience. These products can be meaningful for some families, but they have a tendency of becoming just one more cookie cutter.

In my professional opinion, creating a meaningful and fitting tribute involves a lot of listening, responding creatively, and enlisting the participation of family and friends. A loving and meaningful expression by the survivors is facilitated, not just sold, and the value of the funeral director is his or her ability to offer experience and ideas, not just products.

A wonderful example of a meaningful tribute comes to us from Shiloh, Ohio, where friends got together in bitter cold temperatures to dig by hand, the grave of retired sexton Pete Ferrell. Mr. Ferrell was a friendly giving man who dug hundreds and hundreds of graves by hand over his 50 year career. Even after the use of modern excavating equipment became common, he insisted on digging by hand because he thought it was a better method.

The tribute is appropriate to Mr. Farrell's life, work and personality. The participation of his friends makes it an act of love, and a healing and uplifting experience for them. How often do you see people digging a grave by hand in frigid temperatures with big smiles on their faces? These people will never forget their experience. They have acknowledged the reality of the situation, and fully embraced an active role in respectfully laying their friend to rest. Mr. Ferrell would surely be proud, and the survivors have worked through their grief in a positive way. That's what makes a fitting tribute.

To read the wonderful article by Dave Polcyn and for more photos, visit

The Mansfield News Journal

For more stories about meaningful services, visit:

Inspiring Services

Noted Impersonator Dies: A Meditation on Individuality

Impersonator Ted Prior in December of 2010 

It's easy to dismiss the importance of a life spent pretending to be someone else.  Ted Prior, no matter what his talents may have been, engaged them in imitating Elvis.  Having known who Elvis really was, we can see that Ted Prior was but a pale imitation of 'The King' - a knock off- a substitute for someone who at first didn't have time, and later was not able to be there.  If he didn't care to be himself, why and how should we mourn his passing?
Sometimes those of us in the western world, and Ted Prior could probably be counted in that number, put too much stock in the value of identity and individuality.  When we look at one another, are we really all that unique?  One has side burns, drives a truck and listens to country music.  Another wears dark frame glasses,  skinny pants and enjoys sushi.  What defining characteristics do we have that are not just a T-shirt slogan or a pale copy of one cultural archetype, fictional character, Pundit or marketing campaign?
Spiritually are we a pale imitation of a heavenly form - a bumbling child playing dress-up in imitation of our Gods?
When I look at the face of Ted Prior, I see a sham.  I see a loser trying vainly to be someone great, and in that way I see all of us, no matter how sophisticated or accomplished we are at our forgeries.  And when I look again, I see the beauty that we all have despite how far we fall short.  It is the beauty of our imperfect humanity, and that is how I choose to mark and pay tribute to the passing of Ted Prior.
Here is his obituary from Philly.com:

There are lots of Elvis Presley impersonators, but probably the most popular in the Jersey shore resorts was Ted Prior.  He would show up at a casino one night, the back room of a Red Lobster the next, wherever Elvis' fans might be ensconced.
He was particularly popular in Ocean City, where he took part in the festivals, parades and other events for which the family resort is famous.
Ted Prior died yesterday of the cancer he had been battling since last fall. He was 68 and lived in Galloway Township, Atlantic County.  His death was announced by his manager, Neil Regina, who wrote on Ted's Facebook page:  "The stars in heaven will be much brighter and the music in rock and roll heaven will be much sweeter with him on lead vocal."
Ted's streak of nearly 10,000 performances over 50 years ended when he was forced  to miss a New Year's Eve show in Ocean City. He said the medication he was taking made him too weak to perform.  Ted's career path was set when, at the age of 14, he picked up a guitar he didn't know how to play at a party and began to sing. A friend yelled out, "Hey, Ted, you sound just like Elvis."
He took guitar lessons and gradually transformed himself into Elvis. He insisted that he was not an Elvis "impersonator." He preferred to think of himself as an Elvis "performer." -Philly.com

Death's Grim Harvest: 1901 Obituary of My Great Grandfather, Austin McNally

DEATH’S GRIM HARVEST

The hand of death has been busy among our citizens the past week and with deep feelings of regret we chronicle the departure of several old and honored friends who have answered the final summons and gone to that bourne whence no traveler returns.

St. Martin's Catholic Church, Cascade, Iowa

Here is the text of my Great-Grandfather's 1901 obituary.  Austin McNally was an undertaker, and a hardware store proprietor in Cascade Iowa at the end of the nineteenth century.  The obituary is remarkable compared to modern obituaries in its length and use of flowery phrases, and also in its account of the emotional effects of death on the family and community.  I hope you will find it as interesting as I have:

Cascade mourns the loss of a respected and honored citizen in the death of Austin McNally.  A citizen and business man who was identified with the welfare and advancement of this community since the day of his location in the town twenty-on years ago.  Always a leading factor in every public movement and a staunch advocate of every enterprise that tended to turn the wheels of progress, Mr. McNally’s death is a public loss and the keen sorrow that befalls his bereaved family descends alike upon the community.  Genial, whole souled, and generous – Austin McNally was known and held in high respect by all his fellow citizens.  His friends were numberless and expressions of sorrow and regret on account of his demise are common on every hand.  Years of daily intercourse with the public as a business man had widened his acquaintanceship until he was known far and wide, and his retirement after his sickness befell him was an innovation to those who expected to see his familiar form in his usual place of business, and now that death has removed him from the scene of life’s activity the thought is a sad one to his numerous friends that he is no more among them.  Mr. McNally’s illness, which culminated in his death last Sunday afternoon, December 15, at 3:00 o’clock, dated from the 20^th of last July, when he was seized with a serious attack of kidney trouble, which subsequently developed cancer of the kidneys.  Skilled physicians, both local and others, were consulted, and beyond a temporary relief failed to affect a permanent cure of the malevolent disease.  After treatment here, with a view to securing the benefit of hospital treatment he was removed to the sanitarium at Anamosa on the 25^th day of September last.  The change for a time seemed beneficial and some improvement was noted in his condition, so that on November 9 he was brought home again.  From that time t o the last hours of the deceased his condition was more or less changeable, though from day to day it was evident that the malignant disease was gradually consuming the vital spark of life.  The final depressing attack which ended in his death began on Friday last and continued to be very discouraging the succeeding day, and Sunday, in the afternoon of which Mr. McNally breathed his last, surrounded by the members of his family.  

Main Street, Cascade

Austin McNally was born in Washington township, Jones county in what was then known as the territory of Iowa on the 24^th day of May 1843.  His parents Mr. and Mrs. Thos. McNally were among the early settlers of the county, having settled there the year before Austin was born.  The latter’s boyhood and manhood were passed upon the old homestead farm and for sixteen years after attaining his majority he assisted in the material development of his father’s estate.  He continued to live there until his marriage to Miss Mary Quigley, of Anamosa, which took place at the above town April 20, 1880.  In December, 1880, Mr. McNally came to Cascade and opened a hardware store and undertaking establishment, which business he followed almost uninterruptedly for twenty-one years, or until the first of last October, when the business was sold to Devaney & Son.

Early in the 80’s Mr. McNally associated in the undertaking business with S.B. Beatty, but continued under his own name his hardware concern, and in order to take care of the latter properly he built a fine new store building, which was completed in the fall of 1896 and is still owned by his estate.  Always popular and liberal in his dealings he enjoyed an immense trade in the hardware line.  In 1898, when Mr. Beatty sold out and removed to Cedar Rapids the undertaking department was included in the sale and Mr. McNally retired from that branch of business until last year, when he again added it to his business, taking as a partner P.A. Koob, who had served his apprenticeship with himself and Mr. Beatty.

St. Martin's Catholic Church

Mr. McNally, always a public spirited citizen, served his town in the capacity of alderman and was a member of the town board during the period when Cascade made several important additions to its municipal improvements, principally the construction and installation of the water works system, in which purchase and establishment, he was an important factor.  Politically, Mr. McNally was a consistent and unswerving democrat.  He was a member of St. Martin’s Branch R. C. M. Protective Association and an honorary member of St. Gonzaga’s court, Catholic Order of Foresters.  He was a devout Catholic and a God-fearing man whose last earthly days were consoled by the faith of his fathers and the grace-giving sacraments of his religion.

Besides his sorrow-stricken wife he leaves behind a family of five daughters and one son, namely; Bessie, Mae, Irene, Genevieve, Evelyn and Harry.  Four children died in infancy.  He is also survived by his brothers Robert and James McNally of Richland and Washington Townships, and sisters Miss Ann McNally of Washington Township, and Mrs. James Lynch.

The funeral took place at 10 o’clock Tuesday morning from the residence to St. Martin’s church, and was attended by the R.C.M.P. Society and Catholic Order of Foresters, whose members marched in advance of the funeral cortege, followed by many fellow citizens and friends of the deceased.  Solemn High Mass was celebrated with Rev. J. J. Brogan of Placid, celebrant: Rev. L. Roche, pastor, deacon, and Rev. J. Kelly of Gary Owen, sub-deacon.  Rev. L. Roche delivered a very touching address, and referred feelingly to the deceased to whose character as a man and citizen he paid high tribute.  At the conclusion of the services the remains were conveyed to the Catholic cemetery and laid to rest.  The floral offerings were very beautiful and were contributed by the Catholic societies, the Protective society, the Foresters, and the Dubuque Casket Co.

The pall-bearers were: James A. Hayes, James McCue, T.H. McQuillen, J.C. Devlin, T.D. Fagan and P.L. Devaney.

Life and Death According to Margaret Moth

Margaret Moth

War zone Camerawoman, Margaret Moth, age 59, died on Sunday, March 21 in Rochester, Minnesota. Ms. Moth led an extraordinary life and accepted her death with grace and dignity. There is much we can all learn from her approach to life and death. Below, via YouTube, are excerpts from the CNN documentary on her life, "Fearless". Absolutely worth the time to watch.

A younger Margaret Moth

Humberto Luis Rivas: Photographer of Silence dies at 72

Fina, 1974

BARCELONA – Award-winning Argentine photographer Humberto Luis Rivas died Saturday in Barcelona, where he had lived for the latter half of his life. He was 72.

Rivas, called the photographer of silence because his portraits attempted to capture the interior qualities of the people he photographed, was born in Buenos Aires in 1937 and arrived in Barcelona in 1976.

Rivas’ death came just two days before Barcelona City Hall was to award him the Gold Medal for Artistic Merit in recognition of the value of his images.

From the Latin American Herald Tribune obituary. For the full text, visit http://www.laht.com/article.asp?ArticleId=346985&CategoryId=13003

Barcelona, 1989

Corrientes, 1986

Barcelona 1982

London, 1972

Maria , 1979

Humberto Rivas

Humberto Rivas from JulioBCN on Vimeo.

Putting Your Best Face Forward: Younger pictures in obituaries

10/25/2009
Look carefully at the obituary page of your local newspaper and you'll notice that the photos of the deceased often show them to be much younger that they were at the time of death. If the age difference is significant, it can be confusing for readers because they will often pass by the obituary thinking that the familiar name belongs to someone else. This is especially true with military service photos because today's dress uniforms and portraits are often very similar to the ones used in earlier conflicts. I understand the desire to use a meaningful photo, and love to see the old ones, but as a funeral director, I counsel families to use one that friends will recognize in the obit, or to use two photos to show both ages.

from Bobby Neel Adams' Family Tree series

A recent study suggests that there is more to this phenomenon than meets the eye. A trend has been found where the age disparity of these photos grows greater each year. The reasons behind this trend are not necessarily linked to vanity, as most photos in my experience are not chosen in advance by the deceased, but by the survivors.

from Bobby Neel Adams' Family Tree series

The study was examined in an article published in the Jerusalem Post today. Here is an excerpt:

A recent study at Ohio State University that looked at photographs published in The Plain Dealer of Cleveland found that the number of obituary photographs showing the deceased at a much younger age more than doubled between 1967 and 1997. And women were more than twice as likely as men to have a youthful obituary photo, said OSU social work Prof. Keith Anderson, who coauthored the study.

Anderson said either spouses or adult children of the deceased chose the photographs. They understandably wanted a photo that they thought represented their spouse or parent at his or her peak, he said. But what is remarkable is how we as a society define these peak years.

In 1967, about 17 percent of the obituary photographs surveyed in the daily newspaper were "age-inappropriate" - meaning they showed the deceased at least 15 years younger than when they died. By 1997, the rate (among 400 obit photos) had increased to 36%. "Obituaries and their photographs are one reflection of our society," wrote Anderson in the study published in Omega: Journal of Death and Dying. "Our findings suggest that we were less accepting of aging in the 1990s than we were back in the 1960s." for the full article, visit the Jerusalem Post

Obituaries of Note: Nancy Spero

Nancy Spero, an artist whose political and moral conscience had a lasting and profound effect on the art world, died at age 83 on Sunday, October 18, 2009.

Detail and full view of Azur -2, 2003

Here is an excerpt from her NY Times obituary by Holland Cotter:

Born in Cleveland in 1926, Ms. Spero studied at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and there met her husband, the painter Leon Golub, to whom she was married for 53 years until his death, in 2004.

The couple moved to Paris in 1959, where Ms. Spero steeped herself in European existentialism and produced a series of oil paintings she had begun in Chicago on the themes of night, motherhood and eroticism. When they settled in New York City, which became their permanent home, in 1964, the Vietnam War and the social changes it was creating in the United States affected Ms. Spero profoundly.

To come to grips with these realities, Ms. Spero, who always viewed art as inseparable from life, developed a distinctive kind of political work. Polemical but symbolic, it combined drawing and painting as well as craft-based techniques like collage and printmaking seldom associated with traditional Western notions of high art and mastery.

And from Adrian Searle's article in the Guardian:

Nancy Spero's death on Sunday took a great artistic conscience from the world. ……Spero's work was determined and unerring. During the 1960s she focused on the Vietnam War: helicopters whined overhead, bombers emptied their loads on an undefeated populace. She developed a cast of characters and a repertoire of images which she repeated and recombined in different ways every time they were shown. … Her figures danced and raved around the walls of galleries and museums worldwide, swarming in a cacophonous, mischievous, floor-to-ceiling choreography.

…. Her art could also be riotously funny and sexy as well as macabre, and she made many works which dealt with female jouissance and eroticism, pleasure and pain. Spero was a spearhead of feminist art in the 1960s, calling for greater recognition of women artists and women in the New York art world.

Spero was a vital, energetic artist. She never lost her curiosity in the world, nor her sense of anger at its injustices, and she found a way of making work which combined the graphic with installation, relevance and timelessness.

Detail and Full view of Black and the Red 111

So, can an artist make a significant contribution to society? I would say so.

Obituaries of Note: The Pink Lady, Donna Mae Mims

Donna Mae Mims, a memorable and groundbreaking woman who loved pink and racing corvettes, died on October 6 at age 82. In accordance with her wishes, her body sat in state behind the wheel of her pink Corvette. A procession of Corvettes lead from the service to a luncheon following the funeral service at Beinhauer Funeral home in Peters, PA.

Donna Mae Mims

Following is an excerpt from the obituary by Jessica Turnbull in the Pittsburg Tribune:

Donna Mae Mims wanted to be behind the steering wheel when friends said goodbye to the woman who made history when she became the first female to win the Sports Car Club of America championship in 1963. Mims, 82, of Bridgeville died Tuesday of a stroke. She was known as the "Pink Lady" of sports car racing for her signature color — blonde hair dyed pink and "Think Pink" emblazoned across her cars. Mims was introduced to racing after she and her former husband bought a Corvette. He wouldn't let her paint it pink, so she put what would become her motto — "Think Pink" — on the side. When the two split, she kept his name, the car and a love of racing.

The Pink Lady and her car

After she retired from racing in the 1970s, she helped start the Steeltown Corvette Club and the Three Rivers Corvette Club, while volunteering with the Sports Car Club of America and the Corvette Club of Western Pennsylvania.

L to R, Donna Mae, Janet Guthrie, Liane Engeman

In 1972, Mims organized a three-woman team to participate in the original Brook Yates' Cannonball Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash. The Cannonball Run was an illegal cross-country race from New York to Los Angeles, which took about 36 hours to complete. Mims' team, in a Cadillac limousine, didn't make it to the finish line. A team member fell asleep at the wheel in Texas and flipped the car. Mims, asleep in the back seat, recalled waking up and thinking she was in a washing machine. Mims walked away from the crash with a broken collarbone, but she feared the worst. That's because a Spanish-speaking doctor backed away while examining her. He told a translator that Mims' hands and face were both green. The porta-potty in the car, which had been emptied at the previous pit stop, had spilled chemicals all over Mims, turning her green.

Still in Pink

Obituaries of Note: Mimi Weddell

Mimi Weddell, an icon of style and personality, died at her home at age 94 on September 24th. Starting a career as a model and actress in her 60's, following the death of her second husband, Mimi reached her stride in her 90's. Through the force of her personality and style, Mimi broke barriers and changed our ideas about age and beauty. She is an inspiration to those of us who start over later in life. It is often said that people like Mimi are one of a kind, or that the mold was broken after they were made. I hope that the opposite is true, and that our world will find more and more Mimis coming forward to wake us and inspire us, lest we rest peacefully a little too soon.

Mimi for Juicy Couture

From the NY Times Obituary:

She built an idiosyncratic career, appearing in advertisements for Louis Vuitton and Nike; in numerous films, including “The Purple Rose of Cairo”; and in television series, including, almost inevitably, “Sex and the City.”

Mrs. Weddell excelled, above all, at striking glamorous attitudes, waving her cigarette holder and sporting one of the 150 or so hats she regarded less as a style statement than as a physical necessity, like oxygen.

Aviatrix

Mrs. Weddell’s film roles could perhaps be described as small, some even minute, but only by the literal-minded. For the few moments that the camera lingered on her, she radiated Norma Desmond-like star power. She did print ads for Burberry and Juicy Couture, appeared in photo spreads in Vogue and Vanity Fair and at 90, still going strong, was named one of the 50 Most Beautiful New Yorkers by New York magazine. Then came the documentary, directed by Jyll Johnstone, which gave audiences the full flavor of her personality. The attention was gratifying. The income helped support the hats.

Mimi in NY

“Hats give you a frame,” she told The Times in 2008. “However dreary you feel, if you put on a hat, by golly, you’ve changed everything. I keep telling my daughter, my granddaughter, everybody, ‘If you don’t wear a hat, you’re missing it.’ ”

for the full obit by William Grimes, visit NYTimes.com

from Vogue Casa October 5 via

What is it that can make someone in their 90's so cool? The same things that make a 20 year old cool -attitude, a personal style and a belief in oneself. The hats and cheekbones don't hurt either. Here is a message from Jyll Johnstone, the producer of 'Hats Off', posted on the film's web site .

September 28, 2009

Dear Friend of Our Site,

I am so sad to let you know that our Mimi passed on Thursday, September 24th. She had been in the hospital for an infection in her throat, and she just got gradually weaker. So, Sarah, her daughter brought her home.

At home, she was in good spirits, and met with some old friends. She sang songs, handed out advice and was witty as ever. I was fortunate enough to be there, and watch this amazing woman go through a deep transformation.

At one point she wasn’t speaking very much, and I was asking her if she was comfortable, if she was hungry, thirsty, and then I said, “Are you scared?” I heard a strong, ”NO”, and then silence.

Even at the end I learned so much from Mimi. She continued to care about others, and to ask what they were working on, what were they reading, and how they were doing. She just did not want to talk about herself, unless she was asked.

It was an honor to be there with Mimi’s family, and I want to thank them for allowing me to be at their home during such a precious time.

Jyll

PS Sarah said when Mimi passed that her spirit did not even linger for a second. She was set free, and rose above it!

and finally, a clip from the film via youtube. God Speed, Mimi!

A Parking Lot: Dedication to Larry Burman

On August 30th, we held a ceremony dedicating the new parking lot at the Olson-Holzhuter-Cress Funeral Home in Stoughton, in the memory of a beloved employee and friend, Larry Burman. A parking lot may seem like an odd thing to dedicate, but as Pastor Richard Halom noted in his opening address, a well constructed parking lot may not be a glamorous thing like a bridge or an ocean liner, but it makes life nicer for everyone, and welcomes them in to where they are going. Larry was like that. He wasn't flashy and didn't need to be the center of attention, but his smile, wit and gentle helpfulness made difficult days easier for his co-workers and the families we serve.

The Rev. Richard Halom addresses the gathering of Larry's friends and family

In this business, there are many stressful deadlines and concerns, but nothing like that ever seemed to phase Larry. He was always smiling and in a good mood, and usually had some choice wise-cracks along the way. He took care of everything that needed to be done even before any of us thought to do it. We knew that if Larry was on the job, everything would go well, and we’d have a good time too. Larry wasn’t a funeral director, but he could certainly run a funeral better than most of the funeral directors out there. What always amazed me about Larry was how fast he moved - even though he suffered from arthritis. When he came to work in the morning it seemed like he was hopping out of his car and ready to go - even before the car came to a full stop. The only time I ever saw Larry upset was when he came in one day to tell us about the seriousness of his illness. He wanted so much to be around long enough to hold his new grandchild.

Following Pastor, I shared some memories of Larry and performed the dedication

Larry had a wonderful and humorous take on everything, and he referred to everything as a ‘doo-hinkus’. Larry had a sharp wit- he didn’t suffer foolishness, and you always knew how he felt about something, but it was always good natured, and he was willing to laugh at himself as well. One night, we were working a visitation, standing to the side and visiting, and Larry looked down towards the floor and started laughing. It seems that when he got up in the morning it must have still been dark, and he put on one brown shoe and one black one. He laughed about that for a long time and he even made a point to tell the family about it –which I know brightened up the evening for them.

Larry's Plaque and Monument sit in a garden planter in the parking lot

Larry had a great love for his family. He was always talking about them, and you could tell that he cared deeply for them. Larry’s wife Pat, and their children and grandchildren are wonderful people just like Larry. When Larry died, I can only imagine what his family was going through, but when we got out to his house, I’m not sure if I was helping the family through things, or if they were helping me, because that’s the kind of gracious giving people they are. I know that Larry loved them very much.

Gathering in the funeral home to share memories after the dedication

Because Larry was so good at so many things, he was always in great demand for all sorts of projects at all of the Cress locations. So, it was natural that he took the lead when we needed a new parking lot. We took a lot of bids to resurface in asphalt, but Larry was smart enough to realize when D.W. Nelson Concrete of Stoughton gave us a great bid for doing it in concrete, that this was the best choice in terms of quality and cost effectiveness for the long term. On Larry’s recommendation, we went with Nelson’s bid, and I know that Larry would have been very pleased with the work they did for us.

Larry's wife Pat, stands with me at the close of the service

And so, we found it fitting to dedicate our parking lot in the loving memory of our friend Larry Burman. The plaque that now rests in the garden planter area of the lot, generously donated by Wisconsin Monument of Stoughton, will be a reminder to us of Larry’s wonderful spirit; cheering us up as we go out to services, reminding us as we come back in the afternoon why we do this work, warming us with his memory as we stand out parking cars on the cold winter days, and in a special way, we know that Larry will still be the first one here in the morning.

Skip Johnson: Former Boy Wonder, and All Around Good Guy

C.R. Skip Johnson, a wonderfully unique, sweet, witty and irreverent man, passed away on Wednesday morning. Skip was a world renowned woodworker and a respected and beloved educator. In January, I posted a story by Doug Moe, about the cemetery Skip built on his farm. It consists of styrofoam monuments that mark the passing of things like 2 cent library fines, 5 cent beers, and Skip's neckties. And now I am saying goodbye to him.

Stoughton- C.R. Skip Johnson, former boy wonder, passed away at HospiceCare in Fitchburg at age 81, on Wednesday, September 9, 2009. He was born in Painted Post, NY on June 14, 1928, a son of Murray and Wilma (Reynolds) Johnson. Skip served his country in the Navy, where he met his wife, Joan Lage. Skip and Joan were united in marriage on December 15, 1951. Skip was one of the first three graduates of the Wood Program at RIT, and continued his education at many places, including the UW Madison, where he was a professor of woodworking from 1967 until his retirement. Even after retirement, Skip continued his role as an educator in all aspects of his life. He was a wonderfully creative man with a great sense of humor, and was loved by all who knew him. In addition to being a world renowned master woodworker and a master of hi-jinks, Skip enjoyed horse shoes, gardening, travel, curling, and beer. He is survived by his son, Christofer (Michelle) Johnson; daughter, Kari Jo (Tim) Radl; sister-in-law, JoAnn Johnson; and nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his son, Eric; wife, Joan; and brother, Don. A celebration of Skip’s life will be held on Saturday, September 12, 2009 from 3:00 to 6:00 pm at the Johnson Homestead. Memorials in Skip’s name may be made to Penland School of Crafts, or to public radio station WORT.

A funny thing happened on the way to Skip's obituary. His family gave me the choice of the three photos shown here to use in the newspaper. It took me about 30 seconds to decide that opening the newspaper to the obituary section and seeing Skip with his tongue sticking out, would bring a smile to his many many friends. Unfortunately, a hour after the deadline, I got a frantic call from the newspaper.

"My editor is having a heart attack over this picture! He says it's sacrilegious and disrespectful, and he will not run it under any circumstances. Could you please send us a different picture?"

So, Skipper, I'm sorry, but we wouldn't want to give a newspaper editor a heart attack would we? Instead, I sent in the handsome picture at the top of this post. I must say, though, that no one ever wants to be seen on the obituary page, no matter how handsome the picture is. I know that Skip didn't want to die, and none of us wanted him to die either. Quite simply, death and dying suck. And while sticking your tongue out at death won't stop it from coming, it can still make you feel a little better.

It is a difficult thing for an undertaker to care for a friend, but it is also a great honor, and a wonderful opportunity to perform one last act of kindness for someone you love.

Skip, I am grateful for your friendship, for your many gifts to this world, and for the opportunity to take you back home one last time.

October 14 update: Here is another article
about Skip by Doug Moe - "A toast to the man who kept a beer bottle in his back
pocket" http://host.madison.com/wsj/news/local/doug_moe/article_d0714760-b1f2-11de-bb1f-001cc4c03286.html