FUNERALS: POST #49

There were some sad times at Herman Junction just like there are sad times everywhere else. I remember them vividly. We came home from school one day and there were several people at the house on the other side of the track from us between Herman Junction and Davis Spur. The wife and mother of the family that lived there had died some time before. On this day when we got home and saw all the people there we learned that the father/husband of the family had just died. I believe that there were four children in the family and now they were without father or mother and I remember how painful the thought of that was to me. I don't know what happened to the children but I hope that they have each had a very good life as adults.

I hated funerals. I only went to two funerals and left both times before I began preaching and had to preach one. I went to the funeral of My Lady's brother, Pete and I had to leave because I could not stand the pain that completely filled that building. Pete was 18 years old and died of kidney disease. My Grandmother died and I went to her funeral but again I had to leave because I simply thought that I would burst with pain when I saw my Dad and so many, many, others who hearts were broken. I am an extremely emotional person and to this day I cry every time they open a new Wal-Mart store or something like that. Funerals are especially tough for me. I have come a long way though and was able to speak at both Dad's and Mom's funeral although later I crashed.

There were some things about Herman Junction funerals that I didn't understand and I thought were quite odd. Most of the time the body of the deceased was taken home for a day or so before the funeral and people in the community would come to the house and 'sit up' with the family. I remember a lady who lived there and when someone died she would just move in with the family for a couple of days. Sometimes she didn't even know the family but she would always go and just sit there and eat. You know, there was always a ton of food for the family when someone died and this lady would go there and just graze for a couple of days and I remember Mom and some others talking about that. I thought that I could surely find a better place to eat myself. When the funeral occurred this same lady would just wail and carry on like she had lost her best friend but after the funeral she was just fine and ready to eat again.

One of my Aunts had always heard that the body of the deceased was put in a casket with clothes that had a front in them but no back and she had always wondered about that. One time she decided that she would sit with the corpse and when everyone else was gone she would take a peek and see if that was true. But, there was one other lady who sat there too and didn't budge to leave. They sat there together all night long although they really didn't know each other very well. Later, my Aunt learned that the other lady was there for the same reason that she was but neither of them knew what the other was thinking.

One of my preacher friends preached an entire funeral calling the deceased by the wrong name. She had a twin sister and the living sister sat there and heard her own funeral preached! Her corrected it at the cemetery.

The people in the community in those days honored the deceased and the family in every way that they could. Work almost stopped. Traffic on the highway stopped as the procession made it's way to the church building and cemetery. If there was a crop in the field that needed to be tended, neighbors banded together and took care of those needs. If help was needed financially there was always someone to lead the way to gather funds and help. There was a bond in the community that is seen very seldom these days and everyone was willing to do whatever he or she could do to relieve the needs of their neighbors.

In Romania a funeral is so different and I was shocked one day when I saw one taking place. I was sitting in a big bus that was stopped and I was just looking out the window. My Lady and some other Americans were with me. Suddenly there was a three quarter ton truck passing by and up on the bed of that truck was a casket with a body in it and the top of the casket was turned across the front of the bed and the body was lying there all clothed but exposed to the elements. There was a rail across the rear of the truck and family members were holding on to the rail and behind them were other family members and friends. The truck was moving very slowly so the people could keep up with it and they were very, very, respectful as they made their journey to the cemetery. There was a lot of loud wailing and crying as they walked down the street. But, I was amazed at the body just lying there and I told My Lady and the others that if I die in Romania to please put the lid down on my casket because it is unusually cold over there.

I didn't like the funerals at Herman Junction but there were some funny things that happened sometimes and I guess that was alright because it helped to lighten the load a bit. I hope there isn't a funeral at Herman Junction today because it would have to be James or Ann Ritchie or my sister, Mayor Linda and I wouldn't like that.