Several months ago, the fourth-floor visitation room at Frank E. Campbell – The Funeral Chapel, was filled with 40-plus seated people, many of whom were dressed in black. Colorful flowers in brass urns peppered the corners of the room. Floating candles in elongated glass cylinders lined the floor. I was standing at a podium and had been speaking for the past eight minutes. When I looked up, I saw the nodding of heads, the drying of a few tears and a thoughtful, interested expression on everyone’s faces.
I ended, as I always do, with “thank you.”
Then I heard clapping.
Frank E. Campbell is the signature, famous funeral home on Madison Avenue in New York. (Did you all see the last season of “Succession”?) I wasn’t giving a eulogy for a departed family member, even though my father’s and my grandmother’s memorials were held here, not to mention Judy Garland’s and a slew of other luminaries. It was a book party, and I was reading from my novel, “The Joy of Funerals,” which was reissued in October in honor of its 20th anniversary.
The audience, rather than people paying their respects, were invited by the funeral home, which hosts several events: a bingo game, comedy show and winter concert — complete with Santa. And yes, they orchestrate memorials, over 400 a year.
Funeral homes, similar to cemeteries — I’ve read at those too — are becoming the new community centers, and people are attending events not for sad occasions, but because they have become death curious, death fascinated, and death comfortable as we all move closer to that final chapter.
“The stigma around funeral homes is dissipating. The vibe of our funeral home is changing. People come to these events wanting to be here, as opposed to having to be here,” said William Villanova, president of Frank E. Campbell – The Funeral Chapel. “There’s a void we are filling in our community. We put on large-scale, high-quality, catered events with talented people at an extraordinary space.”
Indeed. That space includes a newly completed 1,500 square-foot roof deck, the only funeral home that offers one in New York. “People come to these and on their way out ask, ‘When’s the next one?’ ” added Villanova.
It would seem death is no longer a taboo subject, and mortality has entered the realm of polite conversation and even popular culture.
“Oppenheimer” star David Dastmalchian announced his partnership in March with Titan Casket, a coffin company known for selling direct to consumers at lower costs. Wielding a bent towards the macabre, the “Dune” actor is the company’s first celebrity ambassador.
Speaking of coffins, there are now classes you can take to make your own permanent resting place. If you don’t trust your workmanship skills, you can hire coffin artist David Cramton, an ex-Marks & Spencer textile designer in the UK, to make something unique for you. His creations range from Porsches to Pepsi bottles, even Louis Vuitton bags. (There’s even a guy in El Salvador who specializes in selling Barbie themed ones.)
If you want something less physical, fear not, a plethora of ways to partake in the death space are now available. There are obituary writing courses; facilitated grieving group dinners; letter writing classes where participants share their thoughts and feeling with a deceased family member or friend; lively cemetery tours; and social-media GraveTokers, folks who collect recipes that appear on headstones, then make that dish at home, only to return to the deceased to eat that meal alongside them — all of which is shared on TikTok.
Two decades ago, when I wrote “The Joy of Funerals” and immersed myself in this world, most of these experiences — including the death positive movement, the permission to grieve, the death clubs and funeral conferences, the colorful characters who specialize in this industry — didn’t exist.
They do now.
“COVID was the biggest eye opener of our own mortality. It showed how deeply we need support and community, and additional ways to live our lives differently,” said Gabrielle Gatto, manager of public programing at Green-Wood Cemetery. The historical landmark in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, offers more than 30 programs that focus on death, dying, grief and loss, including workshops, lectures and practical death preparation — think bouquet making for the bereaved; Grieving & Weaving: Resolutions & Renewal, a knitting class that talks about grief while crocheting; and A Day in the Life of a Death Doula.
“These classes exist because we need to get less afraid with the uncomfortable truth that we are all going to die, and because we need education for what to do at the end of life. People are curious enough to show up, plus they’re fun and it’s presented in a safe environment,” Gatto says.
The truth is, death ain’t cheap. It’s big business.
According to Bloomberg, 2.4 million trackable funerals take place each year, accounting for over $20-plus billion annually. Last year crowdfunding site GoFundMe claimed memorials were one their fastest growing categories of campaigns, garnering $330 million-plus yearly to cover funeral expenses.
For Generation Xers like me — there are currently over 65 million of us in the United States — our aging parents, almost 70 million Boomers, are inching closer to their final days. Though we are living longer, we are being confronted by a reality we weren’t prepared for. And let’s not forget the Millennials, the 72-plus million who want everything personalized and customized — including their death preparation experiences.
For those attached to their apps, you’ll be tickled to death to know an array exist that prepare and organize you for your last days.
WeCroak, founded by Hansa Bergwall and Ian Thomas, and inspired by the Bhutanese folk saying “to be a happy person, one must contemplate death five times daily,” will send you quotes about mortality from poets, philosophers or notable thinkers, or a reminder to consider or meditate on your mortality.
Others, like Be Ceremonial, co-founded by Megan Sheldon, a ceremonialist and death doula from Vancouver, assist you in preparing or creating a ceremony for when a loved one passes, or if you want to mourn and honor someone, yourself included — while still among the living. “Hearing stories from loved ones about their impact in this world can be such a healing experience,” Robinson says.
Death doula Catherine Durkin Robinson offers living funerals or celebration of life party services alongside more traditional wakes and memorials. Since 2020 she has been part of 20 funerals and two celebration events.
“Those clients wanted to enjoy a party that they were paying for, and to hear the eulogies before they passed,” said Robinson, who lives in Chicago, Ill., and described herself as a wedding planner or master of ceremonies for funerals.
In 2019, famed real estate and businesswoman Barbara Corcoran celebrated her 70th birthday with a funeral. The “Shark Tank” star, decked out in a red Carolina Herrera gown, had photo ops with her 90 guests who came, dressed in requested black-tie, to celebrate and pay their respects while she posed, motionless, in a coffin in her living room, which she had turned into a funeral parlor. Her caption on Instagram read, “What the heck, you only die once, you might as well be around for it!”
“Folks who are open to the idea want to hear the kind and loving things people will say, and to enjoy a celebration of their life. They want to be a part of the party,” Robinson added. “There’s far more impact and peace around death when you get to rise to the occasion, or for someone to say, ‘I’m sorry, I forgive you.’ For some, they’re saying goodbye for real even if they are not dying. We want to plan our death because it’s all about reducing fear and anxiety.”
Curmudgeon comedian Larry David was assigned the task of being the master of death ceremony when comic colleague Albert Brooks, in the thick of COVID, wanted to plan his living funeral on the Season 11 premiere of “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” in 2021.
“In the last three years, I’ve been to five real funerals,” he tells Lucy Liu in the episode. “The idea that friends get together and say wonderful things should be done to a person who can hear it.”
People are gravitating towards that thinking, and not just those with terminal illnesses or octogenarians.
Tricia Mawson, now 71, experienced her “best living and death day” — which were the same.
“My daughter and sisters threw me a 60th birthday funeral surprise party,” shared Mawson, who lives in Ambler, Pa. “I got to hear all the beautiful and loving things people were saying about me. It was one of the happiest times of my life.”
The “funeral” was held in the basement, where she sat in a lounge chair while eulogies, given by 25-plus people, lasted for several hours — the best one was said by her husband.
“It might be morbid for other people, but now I don’t have to worry about my funeral. My funeral was checked off my list,” said Mawson, who no longer fears dying. “I just have a fear of getting old.”
Alix Strauss, a pop culture journalist, is currently on tour with her cult classic novel, The Joy of Funerals. She is penning a new book on death and our mortality.
