Does This Mean You'll See Me Naked? (12 page)

The same supervisor, held in such awesome esteem by his employees, had a habit of making us feel uncomfortable when we did accomplish a respectable copper-or-better sale. He was rightly concerned about where the payment was coming from, particularly with a high-end product. On many occasions, I had to explain in detail exactly who would pay the bill; whether insurance proceeds were involved; and most important, how soon he could expect the payment. It was always satisfying when I was able to stroll into his office; report the good news of a high-end casket sale; and hand him the signed contract, complete with an envelope full of cash stapled to it—in other words, a paid-in-f account. My coworkers were sometimes envious of my ability to convince families to pay by the day of the service; however, in most cases, I was merely lucky that I had met people wishing to get it all over with.

Caskets made of solid bronze are the costliest and probably the most impressive looking of all. Bronze sales are rare, though, and when they do occur, most funeral directors are beside themselves with glee. Obviously, as the wholesale cost increases, so does the retail markup and profit margin. Entry-level bronze caskets retail for nearly $5,000 for a low-end and up to $9,000 for a high-end. A gold-plated, solid bronze casket that wholesales for $17,000 sells in some markets for $34,000.

Whenever I travel, I make a point to secure a general price list and a casket price list from a funeral home or two. During a recent trip to Los Angeles, I discovered that one home was charging three times wholesale as common practice. I realize the cost of living is higher there than in Ohio, but that markup was ridiculous.

When I first began my career in the funeral business, solid bronzes were referred to as gangster caskets. From reading about the Mafia and seeing the mobster movies of the day, I learned that a great send-off seemed to be part of their public image. One of the first embalming-fluid salesmen I met was based in Chicago. I always looked forward to his calls because of his spellbinding tales regarding his father's funeral home on the South Side of Chicago in the late 1920s and early 1930s. The father had been approached by a ranking mobster and informed that his business had become the local syndicate's funeral home of choice. When he was handed $10,000 in cash to seal the relationship, the gentleman realized the seriousness of the situation and that he had better play ball.

His first job for the Chicago Mob was to place a bullet-riddled body beneath the bed of a casket already occupied by a recently deceased person. The funeral took place with two occupants, one hidden in the same casket. This act was repeated several times over the years, with a few complaints from pallbearers about the heavy weight they were carrying.

When the practice became too risky, the Mafia partners supposedly equipped his establishment with the South Side's first crematorium. To cremate an enemy and obliterate the body, as my acquaintance described, indicated a total lack of respect. Cremating dispatched enemies was so much easier, with far less evidence left behind, so a whole new cottage industry developed. The funeral director was said to still receive his standard fee for services rendered.

I once drove to a funeral home in Kentucky to bring back an accident victim and I received the grand tour of the small town's establishment. The owner proudly showed me several framed awards proclaiming his funeral home as the top seller of copper and bronze caskets for many years in a row. His casket supplier was no doubt equally excited. What I found most intriguing was that every casket in his display room was either solid copper or solid bronze! No wonder he sold so many. I asked him what happened when a family of modest means came to him for service. He responded that everyone in his area knew that when they patronized him, they had better bring along plenty of money.

The average retail bronze casket is priced at $8,500, so it is not a very common purchase. The few times, perhaps twice a year, that I sell a solid bronze, it is almost an unbelievable experience. That is, I am always puzzled when a customer purchases such an expensive casket. I suppose it is my college sociology taking over, but I want to uncover the reasoning behind spending that much money for an item that you will enjoy for basically a few hours. Is it a guilt trip? Is it to impress the expected mourners? Is it assumed that it is the last thing you can buy for the deceased loved one? Is it the theory that since the cost is so high, it must be the best that money can buy? Does it make you a better son if you buy your deceased mother a solid bronze casket? All of that plays in my mind in the case of such a purchase.

In my experience most bronze sales are not to the ultra-rich but to the middle class. The first time I ever sold a solid bronze was to a retired General Motors factory worker who had saved money over the years specifically for his wife's burial. He didn't trust life insurance salespeople and even opted not to accept the insurance GM offered. Still, he told me he wanted the most expensive casket for his spouse, and he didn't care what it cost. Most funeral homes today have a dedicated room on the premises devoted exclusively to the presentation of caskets, burial vault models, and perhaps cremation urns. The showroom or selection room, with an average of fifteen to twenty units, has always been, and hopefully will remain, a place where the thought of profits dance like sugarplums in the funeral director's head.

Many years ago, I met a funeral director who operated his business in my hometown back in the 1940s. As we discussed our common vocation, he offered for my perusal a brochure he handed out to potential customers back in his day. It was the last brochure he had, so I couldn't keep it, but it described his funeral home as equipped with “ice cold conditioned air,” “two reposing parlors,” and “a goodly supply of the latest metal caskets.” I asked the old gentleman what exactly constituted a “goodly supply” and he replied, “Seven.”

I attended a family funeral in Tennessee a few years ago, and of course the funeral home owner and I immediately struck up a conversation to talk shop. He gave me the grand tour of his facility, and I was flabbergasted to see that he had fifty-two caskets on display in his showroom. His funeral home was a huge, grand old mansion, and the entire second floor of the building was devoted to casket display. The funeral director informed me that when he brings a bereaved family into his selection room, he makes the effort to pause in front of each casket and explain each and every attribute of the unit before them, from the price, exterior color, material of construction, interior color and fabric, and hardware description. I told him I thought that his funeral arrangement conference must be extremely lengthy, but he informed me that, normally, by the time he and the family had made their way to the seventh or eighth casket, they had made a selection decision.

I am lucky to be in my part of the country, which is close to the major casket manufacturers of eastern Indiana and allows for next-day delivery. Caskets arrive on the manufacturer's delivery trucks, covered by a quilted drape, similar to furniture delivery covers, to defend against dents and dings in transit. Back in the 1960s, I used to enjoy accompanying my older brother to the train station to pick up special-order caskets from the now-defunct National Casket Company, whose home office was in New York. National was known for its many high-end copper and bronze caskets, and when transported by train, the units were encased in wood-slatted crates for protection. The crates were made with top-shelf pine, and each end was branded with the words
National Casket Co
. I discovered that funeral directors were very careful in dismantling the casket crate, not just to avoid damaging the precious cargo but also because they wanted to salvage the high-grade lumber. I have been told that there is many a funeral home that used that crate material as paneling for garages and basements, and even conspicuously displayed the logo.

Batesville and Aurora Casket companies have developed ingenious touch-screen technology for a whole new casket-selection experience. Bereaved family members can custom design their loved one's casket with the mere touch of a finger, selecting the casket shell, color, pinstripes, corner art, and interior fabric and color. The hands-on family participation generates better sales for the funeral home, but families still want to be able to see and touch a real casket before making their final selection.

CASKET ALTERNATIVES

I participated in a point-counterpoint discussion on a PBS television show recently, which pitted me against an advocate of “green” burial. The gentleman promoting green burial immediately railed at me with stabbing criticism of my practice of “planting dead bodies pickled with formaldehyde in a steel box that shall rust and decay, thereby fouling the water table and poisoning our water supply for generations to come.” I attempted to defend my profession by assuring him that the casket is inserted into a concrete burial vault in the grave and that most cemeteries do not infringe on the water table. Not to be appeased, the gentleman presented his case with the thought that all cemeteries nationwide should be forced to set aside a certain area of the grounds for those who desire a green burial. Such a burial entails placing the unembalmed body into a large burlap-like sack, and placing the sack into the grave. In theory, the body would decompose naturally and rapidly and pose no environmental threat to society. There is no legal requirement for a body to be embalmed before burial, unless the deceased is to be shipped across state lines or died from a contagious disease. Many funeral homes, however, do require embalming if you are planning a service that includes a viewing or visitation. Many times during the show the gentleman made sure that his toll-free telephone number and website were mentioned to hawk his green burial sacks. I was happy that the discourse between us ended with the gentleman understanding that traditions in different areas of the country dictate funeral customs. The West Coast differs greatly from my area of the country, which happens to prefer burials in the ground. Also, I think my green-burial rival paid attention to me when I explained that a dead human body in only a burlap sack would be fair game for coyotes and other animals. Unless the body was buried very deep, there is no question that animals would be onto the scent of decomposing flesh very soon after interment. This possibility was one of the earliest reasons for a casketed burial.

THE BURIAL VAULT

The casket does not sit in the dirt in the grave, of course. A burial vault is the box-shaped concrete receptacle into which a casket is placed. The burial vault, constructed of concrete and reinforced with steel, resists the entrance of air, water, and any other elements of the grave.

Such grave liners originated many years ago after some unpleasant incidents following the burials of a few wealthy early Americans. Rich people were known to be buried not only in their finest clothing but also with precious jewels. The gravedigger, perhaps a private contractor or even the undertaker himself, would return to the cemetery under the cover of darkness, dig up the fresh grave, open the casket just wide enough to get a hand inside, and then remove the fancy jewelry and sometimes even gold-filled teeth!

When the wealthy Vanderbilt family buried a beloved aunt in the 1890s, fear of grave robbing prompted the family patriarch to have a wrought-iron fence installed into the grave to surround his late aunt's fine casket. Unfortunately, grave robbers were still able to reach through the wrought-iron bars, open the casket, and remove some precious jewelry from the fingers of the deceased. To prevent robbery, the casket needed to be completely encapsulated.

Such atrocities led to the use of rough wood boxes installed into the grave, placement of the casket into the box, and nailing down the lid of the box. Eventually, bedecking deceased loved ones in expensive jewelry went out of style, so crude wooden grave boxes were still considered acceptable liners. But as cemeteries began to fill up with more and more decedents, Mother Nature taught us that wood did not hold up well underground. Changes in weather, insect activity, and moisture caused many a box to decompose, thus causing the grave to partially cave in. Cemetery caretakers and bereaved family members were not happy with such a condition—the caretaker had to keep filling in the area with more and more dirt, even planting English ivy or myrtle on top to help hide disappearing earth.

Steel vaults soon became a trend. A thick seven-gauge plate of steel was placed into the bottom of the grave; after the casket was placed on the base plate of steel, a domelike lid was lowered into the grave, and the domed top of the vault and the bottom plate snapped together at six connecting points. The air-seal principle then came into effect. Just as when turning a glass upside down in a sink full of water the air pressure keeps the water from entering the glass, in the air-seal burial vault, pressure keeps water from the casket in the grave. Steel burial vaults were rather expensive, so a lot of people scratched their heads to come up with a more economical way to protect a loved one's casket from not only grave robbers but also the ravages of the elements.

The arrival of concrete ushered in the notion of a manufactured burial box, created by pouring the economical material into a mold to form a tub-like structure and then crafting a corresponding lid to construct a concrete box. Concrete is solid enough to prove an ideal barrier against moisture and other elements. Also, the dirt used to fill an adult grave is of tremendous weight, and with vehicles and other cemetery machinery traveling overhead, a stout burial vault not only keeps the grave from collapsing but also protects the casket and its resident.

A concrete burial box is just what it sounds like—a large grave liner with a lid. The lid is placed on top, where it sits flush with the leading edge of the bottom portion. It possesses no sealing properties and is not air- or watertight. In contrast, a vault is constructed with reinforced steel rods for added strength, much like a sidewalk. It also carries some degree of protection, since it is constructed tongue-in-groove and equipped with a thick, tar-like sealant. The bottom of the vault features the molded tongue around the top edge, and the corresponding groove in the lid meets and somewhat improves the protection of the casket. A mastic of tar-like material is introduced into the groove of the vault bottom to successfully seal the vault. Over time, many innovations have been added to burial vaults to increase their strength and durability, such as reinforcing the concrete with steel rebar and adding stainless steel, copper, and even bronze sheets to line the interior of the vault. Vault manufacturers have resorted to dressing up their products with such costly amenities as copper, bronze, stainless steel, and fiberglass liners, and even lids decorated with religious emblems and pastoral scenes. As with “sealer” caskets, the Federal Trade Commission prohibits funeral homes from warranting results—although manufacturers can choose to do so. Also, because of a lack of training or downright deception, some cemeteries still sell unsuspecting consumers inexpensive, non-protective concrete boxes, all the while referring to them as vaults.