him?
“Stop asking questions,” she snapped, and went into the bathroom to put on lipstick. Clearly, we would be having company.
JoAnn started crying and Jamie had his hand over his mouth in shock. They were both close to Uncle Carl and Aunt Evelyn, spending many afternoons at their house across the field, playing with Paul and Ben. They’d played together all their lives.
It turned out that Uncle Carl was found dead in the parking lot of a restaurant in Cincinnati. He was sitting upright in his blue Mercury with the engine running. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Being suddenly dead was trouble enough, but a young lady was dead too. She was found in Uncle Carl’s passenger seat, and she wasn’t Aunt Evelyn.
All the radio channels were airing the story and saying, “Foul play has not been ruled out.” It would probably be on the eleven o’clock news as well. Dad knew that Mammaw and Papaw always had their police scanner on, so he had to get down there quick before they heard it on there. And someone still had to tell Carl’s family.
Mom picked up the phone and called Dave Kilner to make sure he had gotten the call to retrieve the body from the morgue in Cincinnati. Dave told Mom he would send his brother Hugh instead, so he would be at the funeral home when Dad came over to make the funeral arrangements.
Mom called the rest of Dad’s brothers: Clarence, Bill, Larry, and Ernie, who all headed over to Mammaw’s house and then down to Carl’s to tell Evelyn and the kids.
Aunt Evelyn took the news of her husband’s death badly, but she took the news of the twenty-nine-year-old girlfriend with a heavy sedative.
It was all so dramatic—having to be sedated over Uncle Carl. Who knew he had it in him to have a girlfriend, just like Dad? And now he was dead.
When Dad came back to the house to change clothes, his eyes were swollen and red. I could not believe it, he was actually crying. I didn’t know how to react. He hated me so much, I wouldn’t have tried to hug him or go within two feet of him, but he needed something from someone.
Dad changed his clothes without saying a word to any of us and headed to Elk Grove to go over funeral details with Dave.
Mom took a chicken casserole over to Carl’s house but didn’t stay long. Mom was happy to pour Campbell’s cream of chicken soup over some noodles or make phone calls, but she wasn’t good at tears and hysteria.
The Elk Grove Courier carried the story on the front page the next day with the headline:
GALESBURG MAN FOUND DEAD IN CAR IN CINCINNATI
The family was already devastated and now they were publicly humiliated, as the article laid out where Carl was found and the name and age of the woman found in the car with him. The story continued on the second page, listing those who survived him, and there was Dad’s name right after Evelyn and the boys.
Ironically, right below his own brother’s obituary there was a picture of Dad in his Shriner’s fez celebrating the “newly formed Elk Grove Shrine Club” at the “gaily decorated” Elks Club.
At the mortuary that week Dave let me arrange flowers for Carl’s funeral, which I did by color: yellows to the far right, then pinks, whites, and reds. All greenery was on the left along with the larger sprays. Carnations were placed in the far back. I hated carnations.
Uncle Carl was downstairs with Max Cooper getting ready for the viewing, but Dave didn’t let me go down there. I wouldn’t have wanted to see Carl like that, laid out on the white porcelain table with the two drains in it. It was not comforting to think of a family member being embalmed by Max and made up by Virginia, who had been back from vacation for a while now.
The night of Uncle Carl’s visitation, the Peterson family began arriving at four thirty p.m. I felt a prick of resentment as they invaded my mortuary. It was the one place where none of them could get to me, but here they were, walking through the front door. Dad was the
“Stop asking questions,” she snapped, and went into the bathroom to put on lipstick. Clearly, we would be having company.
JoAnn started crying and Jamie had his hand over his mouth in shock. They were both close to Uncle Carl and Aunt Evelyn, spending many afternoons at their house across the field, playing with Paul and Ben. They’d played together all their lives.
It turned out that Uncle Carl was found dead in the parking lot of a restaurant in Cincinnati. He was sitting upright in his blue Mercury with the engine running. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Being suddenly dead was trouble enough, but a young lady was dead too. She was found in Uncle Carl’s passenger seat, and she wasn’t Aunt Evelyn.
All the radio channels were airing the story and saying, “Foul play has not been ruled out.” It would probably be on the eleven o’clock news as well. Dad knew that Mammaw and Papaw always had their police scanner on, so he had to get down there quick before they heard it on there. And someone still had to tell Carl’s family.
Mom picked up the phone and called Dave Kilner to make sure he had gotten the call to retrieve the body from the morgue in Cincinnati. Dave told Mom he would send his brother Hugh instead, so he would be at the funeral home when Dad came over to make the funeral arrangements.
Mom called the rest of Dad’s brothers: Clarence, Bill, Larry, and Ernie, who all headed over to Mammaw’s house and then down to Carl’s to tell Evelyn and the kids.
Aunt Evelyn took the news of her husband’s death badly, but she took the news of the twenty-nine-year-old girlfriend with a heavy sedative.
It was all so dramatic—having to be sedated over Uncle Carl. Who knew he had it in him to have a girlfriend, just like Dad? And now he was dead.
When Dad came back to the house to change clothes, his eyes were swollen and red. I could not believe it, he was actually crying. I didn’t know how to react. He hated me so much, I wouldn’t have tried to hug him or go within two feet of him, but he needed something from someone.
Dad changed his clothes without saying a word to any of us and headed to Elk Grove to go over funeral details with Dave.
Mom took a chicken casserole over to Carl’s house but didn’t stay long. Mom was happy to pour Campbell’s cream of chicken soup over some noodles or make phone calls, but she wasn’t good at tears and hysteria.
The Elk Grove Courier carried the story on the front page the next day with the headline:
GALESBURG MAN FOUND DEAD IN CAR IN CINCINNATI
The family was already devastated and now they were publicly humiliated, as the article laid out where Carl was found and the name and age of the woman found in the car with him. The story continued on the second page, listing those who survived him, and there was Dad’s name right after Evelyn and the boys.
Ironically, right below his own brother’s obituary there was a picture of Dad in his Shriner’s fez celebrating the “newly formed Elk Grove Shrine Club” at the “gaily decorated” Elks Club.
At the mortuary that week Dave let me arrange flowers for Carl’s funeral, which I did by color: yellows to the far right, then pinks, whites, and reds. All greenery was on the left along with the larger sprays. Carnations were placed in the far back. I hated carnations.
Uncle Carl was downstairs with Max Cooper getting ready for the viewing, but Dave didn’t let me go down there. I wouldn’t have wanted to see Carl like that, laid out on the white porcelain table with the two drains in it. It was not comforting to think of a family member being embalmed by Max and made up by Virginia, who had been back from vacation for a while now.
The night of Uncle Carl’s visitation, the Peterson family began arriving at four thirty p.m. I felt a prick of resentment as they invaded my mortuary. It was the one place where none of them could get to me, but here they were, walking through the front door. Dad was the
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