Chamblee54

Andrew Sullivan had an uplifting feature, the other day, about obituaries. As is his custom, he found an article at another site, threw out a juicy quote, and moved on. It is up to Chamblee54 to provide more detail, and put up pictures for the text averse. These pictures today are from the Pleasant Hill Baptist Church cemetery. This is a repost. Many of the links are dead.
It is a common practice to look at the obituaries (aka “Irish sports page”) first thing in the morning. If the reader is not included, then the day can proceed as normal. This custom does not take into account the possibility that you have died, and your family it too cheap to purchase a notice.
The article in question is Ten things you don’t know about the obit biz It starts off by saying that the family members are usually happy to help the obit scribe. They have stories about the recently deceased, like ” Eddie “Bozo” Miller boasted of regularly drinking a dozen martinis before lunch, yet he lived to age eighty-nine.”
Newspapers take different approaches to obituaries. Some assign rookies, or use the death beat as punishment for troublemakers. Others give the job to their best writer. The paid notices are usually written by family members, with the help of the undertaker.
Of course, there is the occasional oddball. Alana Baranick, obituary writer for Cleveland’s The Plain Dealer and lead author of Life on the Death Beat: A Handbook for Obituary Writers , likes to visit every municipality in the United States named Cleveland.
One oft repeated saying is that obituaries are about life, not death. As the source puts it: “The British “quality” newspapers — The Times, The Daily Telegraph, The Guardian, and The Independent, substantiate the old chestnut about obituaries being about life, not death. These papers rarely mention the cause of death, focusing instead on presenting a vivid account of a lived life. American papers have an unhealthy fixation on death. It’s common for “complications of chronic pulmonary disease” or “bile duct cancer” to show up in the story’s lede, never to resurface.”
Only one obituary has won a Pulitzer prize. ” Leonard Warren, a Metropolitan Opera baritone, dropped dead mid-performance in 1960. Sanche de Gramont (who changed his name to Ted Morgan), a young rewrite man at the New York Herald Tribune, banged out the obit in under an hour and won a 1961 Pulitzer in the Local Reporting, Edition Time, category.”
There is an The International Association of Obituarists The headquarters is in Dallas TX, presumably near a grassy knoll. They have an annual convention, which is said to be a lively affair. The 2005 conference was in Bath, England. The 2007 conference was in Alfred NY. There is also the Society of Professional Obituary Writers.
IAO was founded by Carolyn Gilbert, the lady who puts the bitch in obituary. Ms. Gilbert collaborates on a page, Remembering The Passed. RTP has a series of podcasts. They require an apple app to listen, which is too much work for PG.
Death is a part of life. Every language has a word for it, and English has a number of slang expressions. An incomplete list would include : ““passed on”, “are no more”, “have ceased to be”, “expired and gone to meet their Maker”, “are bereft of life”, “have ceased to be”, “rest in peace”, “push up daisies”, “whose metabolic processes are now history”, “are off the twig”, “have kicked the bucket”, “shuffled off their mortal coil”, “run down the curtain” or “joined the Choir Invisible”
Columbia Journalism Review (Motto: Strong Press, Strong Democracy) has a feature about Obit. “Krishna Andavolu is the managing editor of Obit an online magazine intended for those interested in obituaries, epitaphs, elegies, postludes, retrospectives, grave rubbings, widow’s weeds, and other such memorabilia of expiration. Part eulogistic clearinghouse, part cultural review, Obit purports to examine life through the prism of death. Founded in 2007 by a wealthy New Jersey architect who sensed an exploitable niche after seeing a middle-aged woman distraught over the death of Captain Kangaroo, the site is a locus for enlightened morbidity.”
OM is worth a visit. The top story features a picture of Betty Ford, who survived Breast Cancer, Alcoholism, and The White House, to die at 93. The site has an ad from Newlymaid.com, with the creative suggestion to Trade In Your Old Bridesmaid Dress & Get a New Little Black Dress.
OM has a popular feature called Died on the same day. Grim reaper recruits on January 5 include Bolesław IV the Curly, High Duke of Poland (1173), Calvin Coolidge (1933), George Washington Carver (1943), Sonny Bono (1998).
No google search is complete without someone trying to make money. Obituaries Professionally Written says ” … we believe in honoring a life with respect, dignity and integrity. When needed, euphemism is used liberally. “
OPW content provider Larken Bradley says “”Obituary writing is an honor, a privilege, and great fun … I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.”… After she dies she expects her obit headline will read, “Obituary Writer, Six Feet Under.”

PG was going to repost an old favorite, Obituary Mambo. When you recycle something this often, it is a good idea to check the links. For OM, many do not work.
The story begins with a story at the digital home of Andrew Sullivan. This fine facility is now in paywall purgatory. When you click on the old link, you see a cartoon of a French borderguard, and the message “THIS CONNECTION IS UNTRUSTED You have asked Firefox to connect securely to andrewsullivan.thedailybeast.com, but we can’t confirm that your connection is secure. …” The browser has this reaction to several of the links in the original story.
Monetization of obituaries seems to have run aground. Links to Obit Magazine give you a page of fine print HTML. The International Association of Obituarists is not on the internet. The NPR interview with Carolyn Gilbert, founder of the IAO, is still up. Presumably, she is still putting the bitch back in obituary. Maybe the 2005 convention in Bath, England was too much.
Another link gave this result: “Welcome to http://www.obituarywriters.com ! Our new web site, powered by EarthLink Web Hosting, is currently under construction.” In its place is The Society of Professional Obituary Writers, “Proudly powered by Weebly.”
SPOW hosted a contest in 2011 and 2012. “Each year, The Society of Professional Obituary Writers holds a competition to honor excellence in obituary writing. Obituaries are submitted by reporters and editors from all over the world, and blind-judged by a panel of our members. Winners receive trophies, known as the Grimmies, and are feted at the annual conference.” Grimmies were given for Best Obit, and Best Body of Work.
2022 UPDATE SPOW is holding on. “Membership is temporarily closed. We’ll be accepting new members after the pandemic ends.” The most recent ObitCon was in 2019. SPOW has a podcast, Immortalized, and is active on twitter, @obituarywriters.

There was a man known as XWinger. He sold Celtic music, and promoted DimSum groups. He also had a blog. It linked to a site that tells you what the Number One song was on that day. The arbiter of number oneness is Billboard, with assistance from wikipedia.
The List goes back to 1892. On January 1, 1892, the #1 hit was “Drill, Ye Terriers, Drill,” by George J. Gaskin. I imagine that before a certain date this would refer to sheet music, or maybe player piano thingies. Other big hits from the Gay Nineties include “The Fatal Wedding” (1894, George J. Gaskin), “Little Alabama Coon” (1895, Len Spencer) and ” A Hot Time in the Old Town”(1897, Dan Quinn).
When my daddy was born in 1916, the top hit was “M-O-T-H-E-R (A Word that Means So Much to Me,)” by Henry Burr. When my mother was born in 1922, the top of the billboard charts was “Stumbling,” by Paul Whiteman.
In October 1929, the stock market crashed to “Am I Blue,” by Ethel Waters. When Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, the big song was “Chattanooga Choo Choo,” by Glenn Miller. Mr. Miller joined the Army after the start of the War, and toured with a band to entertain troops. On December 15, 1944, his plane disappeared in France. The number one hit that day was “I’m Making Believe,” by the Ink Spots and Ella Fitzgerald. The Ink Spots played at the Domino Lounge downtown when I was a kid. I heard people say, “the Ink Spots have been around for a while”.
In 1954, this reporter was born. The number one hit that day was “Wanted,” by Perry Como. Two years later, my brother was born to the sounds of “Heartbreak Hotel,” by Elvis Presley.
One way to track the hits through the years is to pick a date and follow it. It should be noted that Billboard is the essence of “commercial”. On my tenth birthday, the big sound was “Hello Dolly,” by Louis Armstrong. On the verge of the summer of Love, the big hit was “Something Stupid,” by Frank & Nancy Sinatra. At no time did the Beatles have a number one hit on my birthday. This attitude improved in 1969 with “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In,” by the Fifth Dimension.
The seventies continued the commercial tradition with “Joy to the World,” by Three Dog Night. This was in 1971, the year they played a big show at Atlanta Stadium. The disco monster raised its glittering hand with “Night Fever,” by the Bee Gees in 1978.
As the eighties rolled in, I got a job and apartment, and music became less familiar. The first big May hit of the eighties was “Call Me,” by Blondie. It was from a movie starring Richard Gere, without gerbils. The decade was not a total loss, as 1983 featured “Beat It,” by Michael Jackson.
Moving into the nineties and oughts, my old fogey decrepitude is near total. Or is that the wasteland of pop music? By this time top 40 is all but extinct, am radio given over to all talk stations, and fm music so spread out that no one style of music is dominant. The number one hit on my birthday, one recent year, is “Bleeding Love,” by Leona Lewis.
Of course, the leaders of our country don’t always listen. On May 28, 1915, the biggest song was “I Didn’t Raise My Boy To Be A Soldier,” by the Peerless Quartet. And, on May 28, 1964, the number one hit was “Love Me Do,” by the Beatles. Pictures are from The Library of Congress. XWinger, aka Michael Liebmann, passed away July 26, 2016.