Ira Kaufman Chapel

Green Funerals: A New Trend

2010-09-16T05:55:00.000-07:00

We are family

2010-09-07T07:23:00.000-07:00

By Joshua Tobias

I walked into a shiva house recently for a family who recently had a funeral at our chapel. I had not met them prior to making the arrangements just two days beforehand. However, when I walked in, it felt like entering the house of a family member. There were hugs, kisses, tears and, overall, just a really comfortable feeling.

It made me realize something. I used to think that we were here to service families in the Detroit Jewish community. I now understand that this community is one big family and The Ira Kaufman Chapel is a part of that family. This is true on several levels. Over the last almost 70 years, we have assisted so many families, that it is somewhat unusual for us to arrange a funeral for a family whom we have not worked with in the past.

There is a comfort that goes along with that familiarity. We are able to share what arrangements were made the last time a member of their family died, which is often helpful in the current decision making process.

I recently met with two sisters who were looking to pre-arrange a funeral for their mother, who is very ill. They came to the chapel without a real idea of what they wanted to do. I told them what was done for their grandparents 30 and 40 years ago, what had taken place. This then snowballed into a conversation about what we had arranged for other members of their family. One sister even remarked that we seemed to know more about her family than she does.

That is the point. If we’ve assisted your family in the past, you know that we are there when you want us. It isn’t only because we have been doing this for almost 70 years, but because we are a part of your family. Be comforted in knowing that your family at The Ira Kaufman Chapel is here for you in your time of need.

For those of you whom we have yet to meet, you can be assured that The Ira Kaufman Chapel provides quality and caring support and will be there for you.

A different Father’s Day message

2010-07-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

On Father's Day, June 20, Mitch Albom wrote a very compelling column in the Detroit Free Press entitled “Father's Day needs more real fathers.” He mentioned the large percentage of those “who are more sperm donors than fathers, shirking the consequences of careless unprotected sex, making parents out of those unwilling and sometimes unable to responsibly bring a child into the world.”

Mitch pointed out that most Father's Day columns “culminate in an appreciation of the man, something sweet he always did, something wise he always said, some love he always showed.” He warned that his was not one of those columns.

Were I to encourage you to read Mitch's column the way I did, I would urge you to think of another void which is becoming a new trend on Father's Day. It is not the numbers of children lacking a father on Father's Day, but a Father's Day in Detroit and surrounding areas where fathers mark that particular day with their children by calling, texting, skyping and emailing - sending love to distant places due to insufficient jobs and opportunities right here at home. My own personal experience was shared by many friends whose kids also live in distant places and were unable to “come home" for a Father's Day celebration.

Let me say that, as with most parents, our kids’ happiness is first and foremost. I can honestly state that each of our kids - Ari, Ashley and Milo in Chattanooga; Chad and girlfriend Whit in Eugene, Oregon; and Stephanie and boyfriend Zack in Olympia, Washington - each are at great places in their lives with successful careers and great relationships. Their choices for residency spoke volumes about what they saw as a lack of opportunity in their hometown. Each visit home is highlighted by the frustration that, while visiting mom and dad, there are few high school friends left to hang out with. Their friends also found little workplace opportunities in the community where they were raised.

I watch the exodus of those who leave the city. Because their kids don't live here, their choice of end of life decisions reflect the perception that Detroit is no longer considered home. I do not pretend to have a solution to this alarming situation, but I am deeply concerned for our community. Unless we can attract our kids with meaningful career possibilities here, we will lose more than great talent we spend so much love, time and energy developing.

Record-Setting Phone Call at The Ira Kaufman Chapel

2010-06-03T12:23:00.000-07:00

I recently received a phone call from Florida from a woman who sounded along in years.

She started with, “My mother is determined to pay her funeral expenses, so that the costs come from her own money, not from funds from my older sister and me.”

As we proceeded with the conversation, I asked if we had buried her father. Apparently we had. I looked up our records and noticed her father was born in 1899. Figuring that her father would have celebrated his 111th birthday, if he were still alive today, I asked how old her mother actually was. She is about ready to celebrate her 106th birthday.

Now very curious, I asked, “You mentioned your older sister. Slap me over the phone if this is an inappropriate question, but how old is your older sister?”

The caller answered, “My mother had my sister when she was 19, so she is now 86.” "Slap me over the phone if this, too, is an inappropriate question, but how old are you?” I inquired. Her response? “I just turned 84.”

She then took charge of the discussion. “As long as you are so inquisitive, I have a question for you. What was the age of the oldest person buried through your funeral home.”

I pulled up a record card for Jack Halperin and explained that, if her mother could hang on for another 19 months, she would assume the impressive distinction of being the oldest person buried through The Ira Kaufman Chapel. I then told her, “Even if your mother is not able to achieve the age of 108, one record I know will stand and I imagine will outlive me is that you and your sister will be the oldest siblings to arrange a service for their mother.”

Most people perceive my job as being very sad and depressing. Every time I think of this conversation, I can only smile. I had the feeling that, when we take this arrangement from pre-need to at-need, there will be a sense of appreciation for the extraordinary years granted to these ladies who have outlived the mortality tables while caring for their 106 year-old mother.

Tattoo or not to

2010-04-29T06:06:00.000-07:00

I will confess the obvious to you: I am not a Jewish scholar and fully expect that such a title will not be part of my obituary when my time on earth comes to an end. However, I also confess to a respect for Jewish tradition, which is a part of my soul. This respect comes from the practicality Judaism provides those who choose to live by its principles, because the guidance that has been passed from generation to generation is often rooted in sensible answers to often-complex questions.

In my work with children explaining the death of a loved one, I am fortunate that the Jewish approach is easily understood. Consider the shomer who stays with the body from death to burial, or the religious ritual of washing and dressing the body in a shroud, the burial taking place as quickly as possible, the family and friends participating in the final burial, and the shiva, kaddish and yahrzeit – these all make sense, so much so, to the amazement of many parents, that even their young children can grasp the wisdom we are blessed with.

Which brings me to one of my favorite phone calls in my 37 years as a funeral director.

“David, you have a phone call from a young woman - and I do mean young.” I picked up the call and it was from a girl just a few weeks away from her 16th birthday. Two years earlier I had taken her, her siblings and a couple of cousins on a tour of the chapel prior to their great grandmother's funeral.

Now, her parents wished to buy her a meaningful 16th birthday present that wasn't a car and had asked her what she wanted. She told them a tattoo. Predictably, that conversation went the way of so many conversations with our teenagers, starting with the emphatic, “No!”…“Why not?”… “Because I said so.”… “I think I'm entitled to a reason.” You can imagine the rest. Then the famous line from her mother, “If you get a tattoo, you can't be buried in a Jewish cemetery.”

Our very skeptical, almost-16-year-old refused to believe that and announced she was calling me.

Before I take you to the conversation's conclusion, let me say that nowhere have I ever seen it written - and never has anyone given me a Jewish traditional response - which would prevent someone from being buried in a Jewish cemetery because of a tattoo. I have heard it explained that we should not choose to desecrate our bodies in life or death (hence no embalming, no autopsy unless ordered by law). Arguably a tattoo could be construed as desecrating the body, so it should be avoided.

I asked if this young girl's parents were home. As I suspected, she and her mom were arguing and dad wasn’t actually involved in that discussion. I told her I could not guarantee her a tattoo, but she would most likely enjoy the next couple of minutes of conversation. Her mother joined in on the phone call. I inquired where the mother came to understand that a burial in a Jewish cemetery was not forthcoming if someone had a tattoo. She explained she remembers hearing it from her parents while growing up, always took that as the authoritative opinion and carried it to the next generation.

I explained to her that, at a Chevra Kadisha conference in New York, the subject of tattoos and Taharah (the ritual of washing and dressing the body by members of the Chevra Kadisha) came up. The head of this organization, an Orthodox rabbi, explained the concept of Kavod Ha’met, respect to the dead. Each one of us has a Jewish soul and we treat the body with the utmost respect. Everyone receives this reverence and denying one who is Jewish a proper burial goes against everything Judaism teaches us. Do we deny survivors of the Holocaust burial in a Jewish cemetery because of the numbers on their arms? How about veterans of the Navy who have been tattooed with the naval symbol to signify solidarity with their squad? Do we deny them burial in a Jewish cemetery? The answer is quite clear.

Mom was a little shaken, for she had put all of her eggs in the basket by using the denial of a Jewish burial as her argument against the tattoo. I offered this young girl an opportunity to call my daughter in Olympia, Washington. My daughter had told me, if she had it to do over again, she would have never decided to get that tattoo a long time ago while on a trip to Mexico. She had really wanted it at the time, but now regretted it. My caller didn’t contact my daughter, however.

Three weeks after our conversation, I received a text message from the now-16-year-old, showing a photo of a tattoo below an ankle and consisting of a heart with an arrow through it and the word “LIFE” on it. The picture was followed by a message, “Thank you, you're awesome.”

I hope she truly does love life and lives it to the fullest, with the knowledge that upon its end, burial in a Jewish cemetery awaits her.

Josh Tobias joins The Ira Kaufman team

2010-03-24T11:39:00.000-07:00

I would like to introduce myself. I am Josh Tobias and I recently joined the staff of The Ira Kaufman Chapel.

2010 has been a whirlwind year for me. I left my job in the mortgage business that I’d held for the last seven years to work at The Ira Kaufman Chapel. I had been looking to make a change for quite a while, but never in a million years did it occur to me that this would be the place for me. After all, it’s not as though I woke up one day and said, “Gee, I really want to be in the funeral business.”

However, after several meetings with David Techner and the rest of the staff, I knew that it was meant to be. There was just something that felt right about it. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that what mattered most to me was finding something fulfilling, meaningful and rewarding. Working at The Ira Kaufman Chapel has met and exceeded my expectations in all three areas. I really look forward to going to work every day.

Now, since I started, I have been asked the same questions a hundred times and in several different ways: “How do you handle the sadness?” or “Isn’t it depressing?” or “How do you do that every day?” I tell these people that it can be sad, it can be depressing, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love what I do and I look forward to being here for each family needing our help.

One of the most challenging aspects of my transition was explaining my new job to my 11-year old daughter and five-year old son. With my son Charlie, I had to start at the beginning, by asking him if he knew what a funeral was. He didn’t, so I spent a great deal of time with him, explaining what I do and answering an unlimited number of questions. Actually, the questions still pop up fairly regularly.

With Cady, my 11-year old, it was a very different. When I told her what I was going to be doing, her immediate response was, “Dad, that’s like a mitzvah job.” It brought tears to my eyes. She understood. She got it. But, more than that, she reinforced for me that I was finally where I was supposed to be.

The Ira Kaufman Chapel has always been about service to our Jewish community. That
means so much to me and is one of the main reasons I was attracted to working here. Throughout my life, I have been involved in worthy causes in this community. I see my new position as a very meaningful extension of that and as an opportunity to help.

-Josh Tobias

In death a greater legacy

2010-01-14T07:48:00.000-08:00

Elvis Presley would have celebrated his 75th birthday on January 8. Thousands were on hand at the Graceland mansion to commemorate the occasion. I am totally fascinated with Elvis, not because I loved his music, but rather the fact that, since his death on August 16, 1977, he has been annually one of the highest earning entertainers with his estate bringing in almost $100 million dollars a year. These numbers far exceed his earnings while he was alive.

Michael Jackson at age 50 found himself tens of millions of dollars in debt. So, he was planning his final "farewell" tour when he died of a drug overdose, the drug allegedly administered by his personal physician to help him sleep. Since his death six months ago, his estate has earned an estimated more than $100 million, with his death making a greater impact than he was able to when alive.

Which brings me to Marabel Chanin (see my June 8, 2009 blog). Follow the logic. Marabel Chanin was the woman who became known through a moving report by reporter Brad Edwards of Fox 2 News. She had lived in a veritable fortress mirroring Fort Knox on a street that looked more like a war zone than a neighborhood. Brad wondered why she stayed. It was her home, even though a 9-1-1 call played on air displayed her terror as gunfire rang out amid the makeshift dope houses surrounding her. “If I scream, who will hear me?" was the question that captured the attention of viewers watching the report.

Marabel died on December 26, 2008, but was not buried until May 2009. You see, with no family around, Marabel apparently died peacefully and anonymously - so much so that, until Brad was doing a story on unclaimed bodies at the Wayne County Morgue. He reran his piece announcing that Marabel's body had sat unclaimed until a distant relative called. The relative remembered attending Marabel’s mother's funeral at The Ira Kaufman Chapel long ago.

Brad announced on air the graveside funeral, and much to the surprise of Rabbi Loss, Cantor Neil Michaels and myself, more than 50 people attended her service. It seems that Marabel's death finally brought to her a sense of family that she had lacked for much of her 88 years. Rabbi Loss commented that he had not officiated at a funeral where the deceased had never met those that had come to pay their respects. Marabel Chanin in death seemed to have had a greater impact in death than in her years granted on this earth. No, her estate was not earning millions of dollars, but her death brought perspective to those touched by her story.

Norm Powell took his family to Oakview Cemetery before Thanksgiving and spoke to his family of the blessings of their family, the meaning of Thanksgiving. He called to ask what arrangements have been made to erect a headstone. I met him at the cemetery with Dave Huber of Monument Center. I was touched to not only see fresh flowers on Marabel's grave, but advised by the staff at Oakview that the grave receives fresh flowers regularly and has a constant stream of visitors.

As we stood at the grave, we discussed what the headstone should say. Marabel's stone will read as follows:

"She cried, "If I screamed, who would hear me?"

We heard you

Marabel Chanin

TEACHER

An unveiling of her stone will be held in the spring. I'm assuming Brad Edwards will announce this service too, as he reviews the coverage of Marabel's life and death. I'm guessing that occasion’s tribute to her will once again act as a reminder to all of us to count our blessings for the love of family - Marabel's true legacy.

Why G-d created dogs

2009-11-09T06:51:00.000-08:00

Towards the end of his career, Rabbi M. Robert Syme, of blessed memory, would often ask me to take him on Shiva calls, which I was more than happy to do. Once, a longtime member and dear friend of his died and the family asked him to officiate. The deceased had a grandson who was six and a half years old and was described to me as being very sensitive, wise beyond his years and very curious about death. Rabbi Syme suggested that the family contact me and arrange a meeting and tour of the Chapel to help the child make sense of his grandfather's death.

As I sat with this young boy, I wondered where this glowing assessment came from, as he appeared to barely listen, asked no questions and seemed disinterested in any discussion involving his grandfather's life, his death and Judaism's approach to life after death. Although he came to the funeral, I saw little of the gifted child described in my initial meeting with his parents.

Rabbi Syme and I visited the home where Shiva was being observed. As Rabbi Syme sat down, the boy approached us with information that I hadn’t known about. “My dog died,” he announced.

As I began to comprehend the reason behind the child’s previous silence, Rabbi Syme asked, "What was your dog's name? What kind of dog was he?"

For the first time since meeting this young boy, I saw his eyes light up. He described his dog with an enthusiasm not previously shown in the discussions about his grandfather. When the boy finished telling Rabbi Syme about his dog, Rabbi Syme asked him, “Do you know why G-d created dogs?” The crowd gathered in the family room stopped all activities and conversation. You could have heard a pin drop.

The boy responded, as I believe everyone in that room might have, with, “No, why did G-d create dogs?” Rabbi Syme answered, “There are three reasons. First: dogs teach us how to give unconditional love. You can be mad, furious with your dog and he will still snuggle up with you through your anger, regardless of the seriousness of what indiscretion he might have performed. Second: dogs teach us humans how to receive unconditional love. I have noticed that when families go through illness and bereavement, the family dog is there through thick and thin, giving and receiving love at a time when we need it most. And finally, and most importantly, dogs teach us how to lose.”

The boy looked puzzled and said, “I don't understand.”

Rabbi Syme continued, “You see, the average person in the United States lives about 78 years. The average dogs lives 11 years. What dogs teach us is we can bring them into our family and love them unconditionally from puppy to old age. And when we lose them, as difficult as it is, we can reflect on the gift of love given and received, shed our tears, cherish our time we were blessed to share, and realize that life, as difficult as it may seem, must go on. This is why G-d created dogs.”

The silence in the room spoke volumes. As we left the home, you could sense that everyone who shared this experience felt enriched by this exchange between a young child and his Rabbi. As we buckled our seat belts, I looked at Rabbi Syme and demanded, “Where did that come from? That was brilliant!”

Rabbi Syme explained that, when rabbis are posed a question for which they have no answer, they respond by writing a sermon. Once he was asked by a young child, “Why did my dog die? Didn't G-d love my dog?” Rabbi Syme didn't remember his exact response, only that he felt it was not something he was comfortable with. So, he wrote and delivered a sermon later entitled, “Why G-d created dogs,” a sermon he continued to deliver and one that has probably been repeated by everyone who was in that family room that day.

“What happens to bodies in the ground?”

2009-10-07T14:40:00.000-07:00

In 1989, while I was being treated for cancer at the University of Michigan Comprehensive Cancer Center, I received a call from an elementary school in Northville. The staff asked me to speak to the school after a beloved teacher had lost her battle with breast cancer.

As was my usual routine, I talked about what had happened and how we could memorialize this teacher in a meaningful way for the school and her family. When I opened it up for questions, the theme seemed to go in the one direction of this subject that made me uncomfortable - what happens to the body in the ground? I was used to answering openly and honestly almost any question I asked, but the concept of explaining decomposition to a large group of elementary school students made me a bit uncomfortable.

I left feeling frustrated that I couldn’t respond to these questions with the same ease that I felt these kids deserved. When I arrived at my appointment at the hospital that day, I shared my frustration with my oncologist. He offered to call a professor who, he promised, despite his lack of bedside manner was a gifted teacher he was sure could help me handle this topic.

I met the professor in the cafeteria and he looked at his watch, signaling he was in a hurry. I explained the experience I had just come from and he said, “So, you want to know what happens to the body in the ground?” I confirmed that was my goal.

Here is the conversation exactly as it happened.

“Our bodies consist of two-thirds of what?” “Water,” I quickly replied.

“What's the other one-third?” I thought about it for a brief moment and somewhat guessed, “Bones.”

“All right, let's review what we've learned. Your body consists of two-third’s water and one-third bones. What happens when water sits still with nowhere to go?” he asked. “It evaporates,” I replied. “What's left?” “Bones,” I responded and then he asked, “Can I go now?”

I was stunned that the one issue that caused my only sense of discomfort could be explained so easily. As he walked away, he turned around and added, “Oh, by the way, make sure they know it doesn't hurt!”

In my blog, “Helping parents tell kids the truth about death,” I stated that the difference between physical death and spiritual death is that, with physical death, it is fact: there is no mystery. The only mystery for me was this explanation and, in less than 60 seconds, that was solved.

Talking to kids about spiritual death

2009-09-23T07:32:00.000-07:00

In my previous blog, I mentioned that, if you are able to distinguish between Physical Death and Spiritual Death, you are most of the way home to a message that a child can comprehend. Physical Death is fact: there are no mysteries and we understand it. You should experience little difficulty in explaining the concept of "THE BODY STOPS WORKING." Spiritual Death is an entirely different story.

Spiritual Death has no simple road map to navigate. Your definition of what you believe happens when someone dies is your individual belief - no one else’s. So, ask yourself: “What do you believe?” and you will have your answer to the mystery of spiritual death. This is your explanation and no can claim you are either right or wrong: it is simply your belief.

As I have been telling kids for 30+ years, I have been involved in thousands of funerals and no one has ever called, written, faxed, texted or twittered back to me exactly what lies ahead when our time on earth comes to an end. So, just how do you explain spiritual death? Although your own approach likely will be necessary for a complete explanation, here is mine.

If I see Steve and Nancy at a restaurant and I know them, I can approach them, say hello and ask how things are going. How am I sure that these two people are Steve and Nancy? How do I know WHO they are? By their appearance!

So, I explain to kids that, when we bury someone, we bury the WHO of the person who has died. When we walk away from the grave, what we take with us is the WHAT of the person that died - what he meant to you as a grandfather; what he meant to your mother as a father; what he meant to your grandmother as a husband. Those are relationships that are exclusive to each person. That relationship was yours and is yours for the rest of your life. When you think of that person for any reason, his spirit is there with you. Death changes a relationship; it doesn't end a relationship.

A very important thing to remember is that you probably have a different view of spiritual death than your spouse and other members of your family. It might be wise to examine those different ideas, so you can present them as your beliefs, your husband's beliefs, your mother's beliefs, etc. Respect each of these beliefs as individual and never as right or wrong.

I very seldom can get out of a room or a class without being asked what I personally believe. So, here is my belief: My wife and I had a daughter who died in January of 1978 at eight months old. I explain that, although I can't necessarily define it, I do believe in something beyond the grave. I can't believe that our only contact with Alicia was her time on earth. I do believe we will be reunited. I can't prove it, but I believe it. I feel the same about my mother and father and other relatives who have gone before me.

This is my belief, I can't prove it and, as I tell the kids, if I'm wrong, I've been wrong before and I'll be wrong again. I just won't be able to tell anyone about it.

Helping parents tell kids the truth about death

2009-09-02T17:29:00.000-07:00

In discussing with parents what approach to take with their children, it is very revealing to find out what, if anything, they have told them. So, when we finally come face to face, either at home or at our chapel, I usually ask the kids if they know what happened that brought us together. “Grampa died.” “Gramma went to Heaven last night.” Whatever explanation is offered, I am well on my way to simplifying the concept of "physical death."

“Let me explain what has happened – your Grandfather's BODY STOPPED WORKING: His heart stopped beating and his brain stopped working, so nothing in the body works. He still has eyes, but he can't see; has a nose, but can't smell; has a mouth- can't talk, can't eat; has ears, can't hear; doesn't have to pee and poop any more.”

When a young child hears that Grandfather doesn't have to pee and poop any more, they realize he's really dead.

“Why doesn't Grandpa need his body anymore? Because it doesn't work. We don't need his body anymore. Why - it doesn't work. So, we have to do something with the body. Do we hide him in a closet, put him in the basement, or the trunk of a car? What do we do with the body?”

Most children are aware of the answer to that question, but they and their parents have never really considered this one: "Why do we bury people?"

The answer? “We have 6.8 billion people who live in the world today. But there have been hundreds of billions of people who have lived before us. If we didn't do something with the body after it stopped working, you and I would live in a world of dead people!”

After a chorus of Yuks and Oooohhhh's, a very simple explanation of physical death has been achieved.

What makes it easier to explain physical death and to comprehend it is that physical death is a fact. We understand it; there are no mysteries connected to physical death. We know what happens to the body over time.

In my next blog, I will tackle a far more complicated concept of death, that of "Spiritual Death," what people BELIEVE happens when a person dies - is there a heaven, a soul, an after-life?

Is my child too young to attend his grandpa’s funeral?

2009-08-18T08:40:00.000-07:00

How old is old enough? How young is too young? I am asked these questions constantly by parents trying to determine if their child should attend a funeral.

Although I am aware of a child's age being a factor to take into account, a far more important consideration is the relationship between the child and the deceased. Are there older siblings attending the funeral? The reality is that I have met four year olds with greater maturity than some six year olds. There are six year olds I feel more comfortable having attend the service than some who are eight. This is why I have made it a practice to meet face-to-face with children and explain what happens from the time of death until the time of burial. I will tell them not only what goes on, but also discuss why, often introducing them to a tradition that has been the cornerstone of our faith for generations.

Let me make a very important point. By interacting face-to-face with the children, I may be looking at them, but I'm also talking to the parents. Many times, the parents are hearing about these traditions for the first time, along with their kids. Prior to their visit, parents will express concern about whether their child could possibly deal with the concept of death. My response is, "What is it that you understand about death that your child doesn't?" My job in that meeting is to offer clarity to everyone in that room, regardless of age.

What is it that kids are afraid of? The same thing that adults are afraid of: the unknown. Over the next several blogs, I will discuss Jewish tradition in a way, hopefully, that will make you appreciate the beauty of a tradition we’ve handed down, “L'dor V'dor,” from generation to generation. I will explain the concept of “physical death” and “spiritual death” and how, by separating the two, you will find a compass that can guide you for years to come.

Finally, I will share the gifts I have received from the 30 years and thousands of kids who have continuously challenged me and reinforced the importance of being open and honest, even when our instincts may suggest otherwise. I cannot put into words the feeling I get when mothers or fathers ask me to take their kids on a tour of the chapel and proceed to relate how they remember decades ago when they themselves sat, listened and toured our facility. Their memories are still with them of how they were prepared and encouraged to attend a funeral when, years before, their own parents were not given that opportunity.

Involving children in the grief process

2009-08-06T13:22:00.000-07:00

I was recently asked to explain my passion for involving kids when their family suffers a loss. This blog will not only explain the roots of my interest in this subject, but also will be the beginning of a series intended to assist parents in helping their children navigate through what is often a painful and confusing time.

I was nine years old when my grandfather Samuel Techner died. Samuel was lovingly known to his family as "Pa Sam" and was a larger-than-life figure to me growing up. As his health began to deteriorate because of leukemia, it was obvious that his days might be numbered. Initially, my brothers and I could visit him at Sinai Hospital. Then we were able to speak briefly on the phone with him. Eventually, it became a situation where my parents would report back to us that Pa Sam was very weak, but the doctors felt they could make him better.

I came home from school one day and saw many of my aunts’ and uncles’ cars outside. Sadly, I concluded that Pa Sam's battle with leukemia had come to an end. I walked into the house and learned that I was correct - Pa Sam had, indeed, died. Incredibly and inexplicably, my parents had chosen not to tell my two older brothers or me that Pa Sam had died, and the funeral and burial had already taken place. My parents had concluded that a full seven-day shiva period with morning and evening services at our home was all that was required for my brothers and me to get through this time.

My brothers and I, along with our similar-age cousins, had far more questions than we had answers. And yet, there seemed to be no one to help us understand what happened, why he died and even where he was buried. Nobody. Death was just not talked about in 1960. Pa Sam's dying left a void, not only in my life, but also in those of so many grandchildren, nieces and nephews who had loved and admired him.

When the opportunity arose for me to become the third generation of this proud family business, I couldn't help but think of the only significant loss I had experienced to date. Ironically, my family had been served by the business I was about to join. I knew that the way Pa Sam's grandchildren had been treated many years before was not a standard I felt comfortable with. I applaud Ira and Herb Kaufman for their support and in taking a bold step in unfamiliar territory for the funeral profession. They put their faith in a 23-year old with a great deal of passion, but little experience in the industry and, from then on, children’s feelings became an important consideration in the way deaths are handled here.

A dear friend of mine, Rabbi Harold Loss once said, "If out of something negative comes nothing positive, consider it a wasted opportunity." I think of Pa Sam each time I am privileged to sit with a grieving family and their children, and hope to help them understand the process and the traditions that have guided us for generations.

2009-07-21T08:46:00.000-07:00

What do we do with leftover food from the shiva tray? Ah, the eternal question!

The Jewish people have always got one thing right – the tradition of sitting shiva following the death of someone. We gather together as a community, providing strength and support of friends, family and neighbors, to help the bereaved get through the process of grieving. It is cathartic and enables the mourners to set time aside to dwell on the passing of the loved one, before picking up the "busy-ness" and stress of normal daily life.

Those who have sat shiva or have visited a shiva house know there are several rituals involved. Who hasn’t noticed the pitcher of water outside the open front door for those returning from the cemetery; covered mirrors; the memorial candle; and low chairs for the mourners? Serving a meal of condolence (seudat ha-havra'ah) to mourners upon their return from the cemetery is a message from friends that life must go on.

And what would a shiva be without the ritual of food? Most pivotal moments in Jewish life, from a baby’s bris, a youngster’s bar- or bat-mitzvah, to Shabbat and holidays (except fast days), incorporate eating. Food is a tried and true component of both happy and sad times. It’s comforting and universal.

At a typical shiva home, friends generously band together and organize shiva trays to be delivered from area caterers and delis to the bereaved to free them from cooking. In some cases, the family is given several trays over the course of the shiva period. The food is traditional, with cold cut platters and hot meals being the norm. It is meant for the family, although some will invite visitors to eat with them.

There is often plenty of food left over and it seems a waste to throw it away. But, before you package some up for tomorrow’s lunch at your own house, be aware it is not proper for visitors and other family members to take food home from a shiva house. Is there an alternative?

Certainly there is. It is acceptable and commendable to donate the food to a charitable cause. There are several area soup kitchens that would appreciate it. . Contact them and arrange to drop the food off to them. Some of their clients may never have tasted kugel or latkes before, but thoroughly enjoy them, I’ve been told.

2009-06-22T10:44:00.000-07:00

Updating my Dad

As Father's Day approached and the 29th anniversary of my Dad’s death is about six weeks away, I was thinking about bringing him up to date over lunch. The conversation might go as follows:

“How's my cute little grandson Ari doing?”

“Ari was 16 months old when you died, Dad and he's now 30, married, expecting his first child, our first grandchild and your first great-grandchild.”

“What does he do to support himself?”

“He and your other grandson Chad, who’s 28, own a golf club manufacturing company called Scratch Golf. They started it from scratch and have become a force in the golf industry worldwide.” I envision my dad smiling from ear to ear, not only for their apparent success, but having two Techners successfully working together.

“Just the two boys?"

“No, Dad. We also have Stephanie. She's 23, has her degree in Sustainable Agriculture, manages a farm and she and her boyfriend have dreams of owning their own farm.”

“Does she even look like her mother?”

“Hard to tell their high school graduation pictures apart.”

“Your mother must be proud.”

“Yes, Dad, she was proud. Mom died peacefully six years ago after a decade-long battle with Alzheimers. She loved those kids.”

I would then tell him of his other two sons – my brothers – his four more grandchildren and how each is in a very good place. He would have been so happy to know the Techner name was going strong.

“Dad, brace yourself with this news. This country just elected its first black President. Gas is at $3.00 a gallon, down from $4.00 a gallon last summer. Remember General Motors? It’s in bankruptcy court and was taken off the New York Stock Exchange because the value of its stock no longer warrants a place on the exchange. Chrysler is also in bankruptcy, but it looks like Fiat's going to own them. Oh, and Merrill Lynch, the company that handled your stocks, is gone. Bunches of banks and insurance companies have imploded - the government’s trying to save them by pumping a couple hundred billion their way to save them -that's billion with a B.”

Dad asks me about the device was on the table. “It's a cell phone, Dad. I can virtually call anyone anywhere in the world on it. Oh, I can also email and send texts all over the world. It's really pretty handy.”

“Where's the wire to hook it up?”

“That's why they call it a cell.”

I can see he is overwhelmed. I want to tell him about 9/11, but what is the point? I just hope that, knowing we are all well, he can rest in peace, assured that his legacy to his family is safe.

Smoking Regulations at Home and Abroad

2009-06-17T06:54:00.000-07:00

When I asked my son Ari what he wanted for his 30th birthday, he replied, “A golf trip to Scotland with my father.” Great strategy for, if he had said a golf trip to Scotland with a friend, what would have been my response? This seemed rather doable.

As I contemplated previous trips to Europe, I recalled the difficulty of visiting places in countries with no restrictions on smoking where seemingly everyone smoked. I have been a non-smoker my entire life and am quite uncomfortable when someone lights up within smelling distance of where I am sitting.

To my absolute delight upon arrival, I learned that Scotland had now become a non-smoking country, as least for public buildings, restaurants, hotels and other public venues. I can report a fabulous trip with incredible golf, great memories and only one offense with the whole smoking issue. That was my caddie at St. Andrews Links, as he sauntered the course rolling his smokes with a parade of jokes that made him a walking comedian.

I left asking myself why Michigan is unable to enact laws with the same restrictions? I wonder why non-smokers must be subjected to second-hand smoke, when it is hard to refute the argument that it is dangerous to those exposed to someone's burning cigarette or cigar? I pray on behalf of my children and grandchildren that the legislators of Michigan find a way to join the many states and nations that believe their citizens are entitled to clean air in public places.

David Techner, Funeral Director

Marable’s Legacy

2009-06-09T15:10:00.000-07:00

The funeral announcement started off simply: “Marabel Chanin, 88, of Detroit, died on 26 December 2008.” It then went on to say, “The funeral was held at Graveside on Thursday, 21 May 2009 at 2:00 PM. Rabbi Harold Loss and Cantorial Soloist Neil Michaels officiated.” Why, you might ask, was the funeral date almost five months later? After all, aren’t most Jews buried within a few days of death?

Marable was one of those people who fall through the cracks. Somehow it happens, a sad reminder of today’s busy, less personal world. She lived alone in Detroit and died alone of natural causes, the only person on her street, away from family and friends – so much so, that her body lay unclaimed in the Wayne County Morgue for months. It wasn’t until a distant relative saw a story about her on Fox 2 and put two and two together, that her passing could be properly celebrated.

And what a moving ceremony it was! Somewhat strange, but very moving. Not one person who attended actually knew Marable and most weren’t Jewish. They came out of respect for her, because they didn’t want her to be buried unheralded, without anyone caring.

Something needs to be done for all the Marabels out there, Jews and non-Jews alike. Brad Edwards from Fox 2, Phil Douma who is the executive director at the Michigan Funeral Directors Association (MFDA), and I are currently working with MFDA on an initiative to get all unclaimed bodies identified and buried. We are hoping to have funeral directors donate their time and a basic casket. Maybe that will be Marable’s legacy – to help set in motion a community effort where nobody dies alone or is buried alone. In fact, the first step is underway: a fund is being set up with donations that were given in Marabel’s honor to be used to help other individuals like her.

David Techner, Funeral Director

Out of Town Arrangements

2009-05-18T08:59:00.000-07:00

A husband and wife walked in to The Ira Kaufman Chapel the other day to pre-arrange their funerals. They are in perfect health and have been spending winters in Florida for a little more than a decade. This winter two of their inner circle of friends in Florida died unexpectedly. It left them uneasy and feeling very unprepared about what to do if they were suddenly in the same position.

Their two children live out of town and they had not selected cemetery space. Their biggest question was, if death occurs in Florida, whom do they call first - the Florida funeral home or The Ira Kaufman Chapel?

My answer to them was to contact us. We would call our colleagues in Florida with whom we work regularly. I took statistical information required for a death certificate as well as what is required these days for newspaper notices. They had no interest in selecting or paying for their funeral ahead of time, but left assured that, if something were to happen, they were armed with the knowledge and confidence to navigate through the experience. I am certain they will also encourage some of their other friends to prepare themselves for a contingency like this.

David M. Techner
Funeral Director

Is the Funeral Industry Recession-Proof?

2009-05-06T20:03:00.000-07:00

It seems appropriate that one of my earliest blogs should be about the economy, since that seems to be first and foremost on everyone's mind these days. We are facing an unemployment rate approaching the highest it has been in my lifetime, the Dow reduced to half its worth in a very short period and real estate numbers a fraction of what they were just a few years ago. Confidence in the future is at an all time low.

In discussing a recession versus a depression, an MSNBC host was asked to explain the difference. "When your neighbor loses his job, it's a recession. When YOU lose your job, it's a depression. Whatever your definition, the one certainty is that our community is experiencing great pain.”

Almost daily someone will tell me, either when I am out in the community somewhere or at the Chapel, that the funeral business is one not affected by the economy - a recession proof business. Think about this for a moment. We meet and interact with families experiencing pain. Never has there been a time when people have come to us hurting so deeply in addition to the grief they are experiencing over the loss of their beloved family member. As in every business, we face challenges in continuing to offer services that have meaning while being sensitive to economic hardships facing our entire community.

David Techner, Funeral Director

A Funeral Director On Blogging

2009-04-28T08:47:00.000-07:00

A funeral director blogging on his funeral home’s Web site. This is nothing I could have ever imagined when I graduated from Mortuary School 35 years ago. Yet, what a wonderful opportunity to inform, to educate and to share ideas, while the community is navigating The Ira Kaufman Chapel Web site seeking the time of a funeral, shiva information or where a family wishes contributions be directed in memory of their loved one.

As I begin my journey in the blogosphere, I ask for your input. If you would like me to blog about any particular topic, let me know. My greatest fear is that I will run out of things to write about. My wife and children assure me there is no danger of this happening. Just in case they happen to be wrong, feel free to email me with your thoughts, dmtec51@msn.com

David Techner, Funeral Director