Obituaries: A Dying Art Form

Most people are not famous and will be lucky to get a1,000-word sendoff in their local paper’s obituary section. 

For years, this literary tradition was a passing thought, acorner of the paper where newsrooms broke in the rookies.  But pioneers like Philadelphia investigativereporter Jim Nicholson began giving proper literary sendoffs to regularJoes.  He and other cutting edge obitwriters realized most normal people still lead interesting lives that deserve agrand goodbye.  For example, the obit ofthe son of a federal judge who was shot to death in a tavern reads:

“Every family of any size has one: the uncrowned prince orprincess who does not seek special stature but achieves it nevertheless.  It is not always the oldest, nor thebest-looking nor the most successful. Chris Kelly was the favorite uncle, the trusted brother, the loyalson.  He would have shunned suchdescriptions.”

Another one, written by Douglas Martin and with a morehumorous slant, reads:

“Selma Koch, a Manhattan store owner who earned a nationalreputation by helping women find the right bra size, mostly through adiscerning glance and never with a tape measure, died Thursday at Mount SinaiMedical Center.  She was 95 and a 34B.”

Professional obituary writers are now in a strangetransition as many are being pushed out of newsrooms across the country withmemorial websites, do-it-yourself obit kits, and social media giants likeFacebook picking up the slack.  Butpeople will always be dying so obituary writers will always be in demand.

See Ann O’Neill, Funny Obits Bring New Life to a Dying Art,CNN, July 9, 2013.