I've never been much of a newspaper reader. I'll watch the Today show while I'm on the treadmill in the morning, and since we left Minnesota and I had to break my NPR addiction, I've been feeling a little bit out of touch with what happens in the rest of the world. But when we're in Utah, I always make sure that I read the paper (isn't that what you're supposed to do on vacation?), and I make a beeline for the obituaries.
One of my dirty little secrets is that I love reading the obituaries in Utah. For one thing, as with almost everything in Utah, I almost always see someone with whom I have a connection in the obituaries. I brought home last Tuesday's Deseret News for the purpose of writing this blog post, and Eddie had connections with at least two of the thirty or so people featured in the obits.
Connections to the recently deceased aside, my favorite thing about the Utah obituaries is the unintentional comedy. I find myself constantly giggling as I read them. I'm not laughing at the obituaries, exactly, more laughing with them. I love the quaintness of the obits, the personal statements, the shameless bragging. Obituaries in Utah are such a microcosm of LDS culture that I feel a great connection to my Mormon identity when I read them, for good and for bad.
Where I grew up, and in most of the places I've lived since leaving Utah, the obits are fairly straightforward: name, age, survivors, funeral information. Obituaries in Utah, on the other hand, read either like a resume or a mini character sketch.
From last Tuesday's paper, here are a couple of examples of the character sketch variety of obituary:
"Elmer Johnson's deepest desire and last wish was to be reunited with his beloved wife Mary Coon Johnson who preceded him in death in 1993.
"...A talented craftsman, Elmer owned and operated the Town Studio Upholstery, cutting folding and sewing ten thousand yards of fabric and a hundred miles of thread into beautiful furniture for homes all over Salt Lake City."
"Marion loved baseball and would travel to spring training in Arizona with Noel each year and then make several trips to all the Big League parks in California in the summer."
"She shared her design talents with others on many occasions and is now busy making design changes in heaven."
"He moved his family to Salt Lake City (1964) into a home with a large swimming pool. The family gave up the animals, took up recreation and fun times."
and my personal favorite from last Tuesday's obits:
"Edith and Frank loved to go eat at Little America and the Village Inn in Bountiful and Fred Raso Jr's Village Inn at 4th South and 9th East, where all waiters and waitresses knew them by name."
Dale Berg's obit is the perfect example of the resume-obituary, with a 300-word paragraph listing his many accomplishments, including at least 100 words enumerating the many construction projects he had worked on. I probably would have hired him, if not for the unfortunate fact that he wouldn't be able to report to work.
Many of the obituaries, for both men and women, list all of the church callings (at least the notable ones) that the recently deceased ever held. Some even talk about writing sacrament meeting programs and cleaning up the church parking lots.
If Eddie ever manages to finish his fellowship (only two more years, he promises me!) and we make our way back to the promised land, we're definitely going to have to subscribe to a newspaper. And every morning you'll find me eating my cereal with my nose buried in the obituaries. What better way to start your day than with a small dose of morbidity?
--originally published 3/18/07
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