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In recent years, one of the emerging ways to honor loved ones is through natural burial. At its core, the purpose of natural burial is to allow the body to return quickly and naturally to the elements of the earth and to begin the regeneration of new life. While natural burial is not exactly today’s status quo, it’s easy to see how it is becoming more of interest to those who have a keen interest in helping to preserve our planet and in giving back. At Gearty-Delmore, we are here to navigate end-of-life commemorations, in whatever form those tributes might look like.

Fort Snelling National Cemetery’s Memorial Rifle Squad firing rifles at a Memorial Day Ceremony. Photo credit: MPR Photo/Tim Nelson

Photo Credit: FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency)

Photo Credit: FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency)

I was summoned to Our Lady of Peace Hospice in St. Paul about two years ago to meet with a terminal woman who wanted to complete her own funeral arrangements. While not a typical request, I would say I meet a few times each year with a person facing the end of their days on earth. The small-framed woman was very much at peace that her life was drawing to a close. She had thought things through clearly and knew what she wanted, to be bathed, wrapped in a shroud, and be buried without embalming with her parents and grandparents in the family plot in southern Minnesota. She was asking for natural burial and wanted to be buried as simply as possible. She had many questions about the process, and I will try to answer them to give some insight about natural burial.

Lois Cavanagh Hagel began our conference by admonishing her husband, “LeRoy, you can’t build your own casket, what will people say?” My notes say that the date was January 28, 2007 and what Lois was referring to was her husband LeRoy’s desire to build his own casket out of the barn wood from his family farm in Rogers, MN. LeRoy Hagel was born on May 19, 1926. Like so many of his generation, he enlisted in WWII at age 18 and served in the Philippines and the occupation army of Japan. He married Lois, from the very prominent Cavanagh family of Robbinsdale. Lois’ father Phil was a home builder and he taught LeRoy the construction business. LeRoy and his father-in-law built the Hagel family home in Golden Valley. LeRoy and Lois came that January morning to do what so many people do; pre-plan their funerals to provide guidance for their services and ease the burden of their children. Lois wanted a funeral Mass followed by cremation and LeRoy wanted to build his own casket for burial. They were to be placed in a single grave at Holy Name Cemetery in Medina, their church home where they were extremely active. Lois was concerned that people “would talk” about the homemade casket. LeRoy explained the theological reason why he wanted to build the casket and the urn for Lois. He built the home where they had resided since the 1950’s, where they raised the kids and where they continued to live in retirement. That house protected them through freezing winters and blistering summers. He wanted to build the “home” that would protect their mortal remains until the day of Resurrection. He wanted to build it of the wood of the family farm, where their son John lived. LeRoy took measurements of caskets in our building. He measured widths, heights, lengths of the casket to assure it would fit in the vault when the time came. LeRoy proudly called when it was time to transfer the completed product to the storeroom of Gearty-Delmore, the pictures included show LeRoy and me carrying it out of the barn door in Rogers. There was one stop on the way: a Berber outdoors lining was stitched in at Northwestern Casket Co. The interior lid was adorned with a photo of the Rogers homestead. Lois passed away on January 24, 2016. In all kinds of weather, LeRoy made a daily trip from their home to spend the day at St. Therese with Lois. When we arrived at St. Therese Home, LeRoy was at her side and followed us out to the hearse. As Lois’ arrangements were being finalized, LeRoy decided that he wanted to place Lois’ urn in the casket he had built, and to await him so that she could be placed in the casket with him. LeRoy adjusted to life without Lois, it was not easy for him, but he persevered. John Hagel lived on the family farm in Rogers. He was the first of three adopted children that Lois and LeRoy lovingly raised. John suffered from a few health issues and relied on dialysis to survive. August 29th of this year, John was found in the farmhouse, his death the result of natural causes. His service was held on September 3rd at the Plymouth Chapel presided by LeRoy’s pastor, Fr. Steve Ulrick. The music performed by Paul and Jody Keefe, Paul being one of John’s closest and longest friends. LeRoy got up and addressed the friends assembled. He recalled the happy days in Golden Valley, the close relationship of the Keefe and Hagel families, as well as acknowledging others in the room who had been close to John over the years. LeRoy asked for mercy on John’s soul and forgiveness of his transgressions. He went on to ask for forgiveness for himself as well, from anyone in the family that he had wronged, and hoped the good Lord would look favorably on him when his days ended. With slightly misty eyes, he went to the casket of his son, blessed him, said good-bye and commended his soul to God. It was the last time I saw LeRoy. He went to his daughter’s home in Miller, South Dakota to recuperate and get a little rest. While there, he became ill and died on November 22. The hearse was dispatched to bring LeRoy home. Tuesday December 1, 2020 was an unusually warm and sunny day. There was a small crowd at Holy Name Church, mostly family and a couple of friends in attendance for LeRoy’s Mass. The cantors were life-long friends, Paul and Jody Keefe. Fr. Steve Ulrick said the Mass. In his Homily, Fr. Steve spoke of the great humility of LeRoy, that he was totally dependent on the Lord. His life consisting of family, the earth and the work of his hands. LeRoy lived the cycle of life over and over, serving his family and his Lord. People often ask me how I do this day after day, watching the sadness. My answer is to read this article and walk the journey of Lois and LeRoy. They came to see their friend, the funeral director, to plan their services. LeRoy described his wishes for burial that reflected his faith. He left those plans with his friend in total confidence that his wishes would be carried out. This scenario is carried out across our country every day and provides funeral directors the greatest satisfaction in their vocation. The last act was the burial in Holy Name Cemetery. Fr. Steve and I stayed to be sure that LeRoy’s creation would fit in the vault, the greatest uncertainty of home-made caskets. I told Fr. Steve I would be partly to blame as I was the measuring consultant so many years ago. The casket fit perfectly, a testament to the perfection and craftsmanship of the carpenter, LeRoy Hagel. In the liturgical season dedicated to preparing for the Lord’s birth, we buried LeRoy with Lois tucked at his side to await the Lord’s return. “O come, O come, Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear”

HEADLEY, NANCY - March 16, 2020

Pat Menke, complete with her Holy Family red baseball cap, has held court in the St. Louis Park church kitchen for 30+ years. Surrounding her is a group of dedicated ladies (and a sprinkling of men!) who serve the funeral luncheons for all parishioner families who have experienced the loss of someone close. On Wednesday mornings at Holy Family, following 8 AM Mass, there has been a gathering of long-time parishioners near the kitchen. Pat makes them all breakfast sandwiches that would rival a fine hotel’s wares. If there is a funeral on that morning, I know that I am to come early and partake- Pat will make extra sandwiches for the funeral directors. The hugs for the family (most Pat knows personally and for years) and the hugs for the funeral directors are given in equal dosages. There is a bond with Pat and the parishioners at Holy Family, an extension of pastoral ministry that she does not even realize she provides. And at the moment, she is not providing as church luncheons have been tabled for social distancing. The Church or Kitchen Ladies are a staple of congregations from the Methodists to the Mormons. Ask any clergy where the nerve center of their campus is and they are likely to point down the hall to the kitchen. They are the quickest to volunteer and guaranteed to be the quickest with an opinion, whether we are talking new china or a new Clavinova! If you step in the kitchen and ask them the length in years of their memberships, you will get answers ranging from the 1950’ and 60’s to “I was baptized here!” and you are likely speaking to one in their 80’s. They are fiercely loyal to their congregation, proud to tell you they are a member of the Ladies Circle of Lutheran Women and equally ready to complain a little, telling you that “is not the same since Pastor Jones left”. Pastor Jones may have left in 1967, they are still there, and still not quite sure about the replacement or even replacement of the replacement! They are equally loyal to their regular funeral directors. If you are clear across town, out of your territory, you will likely be quizzed as to why. Once when I explained I was there because the deceased was a relative of my wife’s family, my answer was dismissed as not good enough! For 44 years I have watched the kitchens do their ministry. Countless children of an elderly parishioner will recognize a face in the kitchen, a dear friend of their mother and a mother of a former classmate in their high school years. Soon they are gathering their siblings together looking through the posters of Confirmands in the hallway. Sure enough, you will find the daughter of the deceased and the daughter of the kitchen lady standing side by side along with the 65 others that routinely matriculated through the 1970’s at so many suburban congregations. The connection to First Lutheran is the now frail body hugging and consoling, and telling them how much the church and the ladies will miss their friend. It is good to come home, especially when home holds the memories of family baptisms, weddings, church festivals and finally, commending a soul to God. My first funeral home job was right after high school at the Johnson-Boman Funeral Home in Mankato. I was a city kid through and through. I had never been on a farm. The first fall I was there, going to school at Mankato State, my bosses took me to the St. John Lutheran Church in Good Thunder, MN. I was warned never to say or write St John’s, it was St. John Lutheran Church. The funeral luncheons were a grand affair, full chicken dinners with all the fixins. I was there on Christmas Eve morning to help with a funeral. While in the kitchen, one of the ladies asked me when I would be heading to Minneapolis that day to spend Christmas with the family. I explained that I had to stay and answer the phones overnight, and I would be able to go home for New Year’s, but Christmas was my holiday. She worried aloud how I was going to get a Christmas Eve meal and I assured her that I would be fine, I had food in the apartment. I was in the apartment around 5:30 PM or so, when I heard the buzzer under the canopy door on the driveway. Sometimes when people would die suddenly enroute to the hospital by ambulance, the local service would bring them without notice, so I thought that to be the case. What other possible reason would bring one to a funeral home on Christmas Eve! I went to the landing and saw one person standing under the canopy. It was my Good Thunder friend, in the cold, with a full tray covered by towels. The church lady had driven all the way in to Mankato, about 10 miles, to bring me a Christmas dinner. She told me that it bothered her all afternoon that an 18 year old had no Christmas Dinner! When I asked her about her own dinner and family, she told me that they were waiting for her at the farm. In classic church lady style, I was told to eat before it got cold. When I unwrapped my meal, it was all there and it was all warm. How she did that I am not sure. Modern church administrators and pastors will often tell us that the numbers of dedicated church ladies continues to dwindle and they worry that soon only caterers will be available. That is likely true, but it never ceases to amaze me how we arrive to find a kitchen crew, a little older and not moving like they did 20 years ago, but still providing M & M’s (meals and ministry). The funeral meal and reception is one of the most important parts of a funeral service. It is outreach for the parishes and comfort for the bereaved. The stories flow, memories are shared, friendships rekindled and every once in a while, relationships healed. At the moment, they are not happening at all, the church ladies are benched. COVID has disrupted many things, and we hear mostly about the economic impacts. The ministry around the coffee pot and the plate of brownies in the church parlor is another casualty with ramifications and unmet grief resolution we may never know.

Photo Credit: Rod Long