Transformational Funeral
Transformational Funeral Service

Many years ago, as a student at Baldwin-Wallace College, it was revealed to me that one day there would come a time when any person wishing to maximize his or her potential needs to transcend from being simply transactional into a transformational phase of their voyage à travers la vie.

This not only can apply to their professions, but also to family, religious and social relationships, moving them from an ordinary existence to one of excellence. This is, unless they are in the habit of changing their clothing in a phone booth (if one can be found) or parachuting into the office every morning.

On the wall in the Baldwin-Wallace College Gymnasium there is an expression by Eddie Finnigan, long-time coach at the school, and the man who helped develop Harrison Dillard into an Olympic champion: “It is very easy to be ordinary, but it takes courage to excel, and we must excel.”

For me, that journey began on a blustery winter evening in the late 1950s when, as a young upstart in the funeral business, I was sent to the Pittsburgh Airport with the Dawson Funeral Home limousine to return two sales reps for the Hall China Company to our town, East Liverpool, Ohio.

The Hall China Company was established on August 14, 1903 as a result of the dissolution of the East Liverpool Potteries Company. Robert Hall, the original owner, died in 1904 and his son, Robert Taggart Hall, became manager, working relentlessly to develop a non-lead glazed china with a single-fire process. In 1911, the resulting product helped make Halls a leader in the manufacture of cookware, teapots and dinnerware. The company was sold to the Homer Laughlin China Company in 2010.

One was Bill Mayers, son-in-law of Joe Thompson. Joe married the oldest daughter of F.I. Simmers, a major stockholder at Halls. (Now there’s a transactional move if ever there was one!)
The other gentleman was Brice Palmer, a distinguished, old-school-type sales person, who knew how to ask questions – an important prerequisite for a professional in any field.           

It was on this night that I realized I could answer all of Mr. Palmer’s questions – mostly about funeral service. In the words of world-class public speaker Nido Qubein, now president of High Point University in North Carolina, I had begun transcending from being transactional to the transformational phase of my career.

My boyhood friend, Coach Lou Holtz, once related his experience, which occurred at a football coaching staff meeting at The Ohio State University. With Woody Hayes in charge, assistant coaches were busy discussing strategy and how to win the next game, when it suddenly dawned on Lou that he could do this as well as, if not better than, anyone in the room.  A pretty tall order as the OSU staff that year led the Buckeyes to an undefeated season and no less than six assistants went on to become head coaches at the NCAA Division I level.

Lou was correct, however; he had gone beyond the transactional into the transformational, and Woody had gone beyond training his staff to influencing and impacting at least one coach’s career.

For all professions, then, comes the next step, which is to pass on the knowledge, we have acquired and give the benefit of our experience to the players, our fellow workers and the families we serve.

Noted funeral historian, author and lecturer Dr. Todd Van Beck, in his book, Winning Ways, states that there are too many of us in funeral service who never seem to get away from our side of expectations. We seem to never get into the family’s shoes. We might get the call, help with selections, and do the funeral, but do we make the service as valuable, meaningful, or creative as it can be?

Van Beck continues, “Engaging clients from their side of the equation results in more helpful service and that is what all families are ultimately looking for. They appreciate it, but in reality, it is something they seldom get anymore.

“Acquiring the ability to see through the other person’s eyes is something none of us can achieve overnight. This attitude toward service (in our profession, anyway) is learned by an individual only through personal observation, study and practice.

“All products and services offer distinct uses or advantages. The suppliers in our profession have done an outstanding job in creativity and innovation. It is up to us to individualize them to our families – show how the offerings of merchandise will make their tasks of mourning easier, contribute to their peace of mind, and make their adjustments to life more productive,

“Our attitude of service must be one of, “This is to your (family’s) advantage. The quality is for your benefit. You will find peace of mind with this feature. We have done this service because it accomplishes this for you.’”

Dr. Kenneth McFarland, one of the finest public speakers of all-time, often talked about the “circle of influence,” and how everyone likes to stay within his or her own circle. The element that distinguishes a true professional stems from their ability to cross into another’s circle and develop synergism. This is what Brice Palmer helped me do. This is what Woody Hayes did for Lou Holtz.

To pursue Dr. McFarland’s thought, all of our circles, then, have the potential to intersect into one big loop, which makes sense. It is when we enter the circle that we have congruency, we have leverage, we have efficiency, and we develop energy. We now find ourselves in a circle of influence. We have entered the transformational world of who we are and what we do.
So what does all this transactional, transitional, transformational philosophy have to do with your profession and mine? The answer is everything!

In funeral service, if all we do is embalm a body, write an obituary, pretend to direct a funeral and dispose of the remains, we are not living up to our potential as morticians, or for that matter, elected officials, corporate executives, physicians, actors, and the list goes on.

When a funeral service professional is dedicated enough to get into the back seat of the family limousine, at the graveside, with a disabled family member while the casket of that person’s closest relative is being lowered into the ground, it becomes a transformational moment.

When we are committed enough to pay attention to the grandchildren of the family we are serving or send the company snow plow out to the residence or deliver the eulogy or perform one hundred and one other menial tasks, we are orbiting the world of transformational behavior.

If all we have to offer is the transactional personality of a K-Mart clerk, people will use us and discard us and seek another funeral home in the future. But if we become transformational, people will respect us, and when you earn respect, people will bond with you and trust you.

All relationships are based on trust. If I trust you, then I will listen to you based on reason, and reason leads to focus, and focus leads to congruence, and wonderful things begin to happen.
My good friend and best teacher (even though I never actually had him in the classroom) at Baldwin-Wallace College (now University), Dr. Neal Malicky, took the college to a higher level, academically and financially by building relationships not asking for money while serving as the school’s president

If a college exists for the lone purpose of passing out diplomas, then there are hundreds of institutions of higher learning out there doing the same thing. But when students are taught to think for themselves, develop an open mind, set realistic goals, originate life-long learning habits and build relationships, then something extremely significant begins to happen. That, again, is transformational at the highest level.

The purpose of this book is to make something significant happen -- to help readers transcend from being transactional to transformational. The first half passes on organizational thoughts and the second portion covers techniques gleaned from some 60 years of observing the operational side of the funeral business.

Finally, for me, it all means starting with a breast pad. I hope you will start there, too.