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It may seem maudlin to some, but I enjoy reading obituaries, especially those printed in The New York Times,  which are considered a form of creative non-fiction.    From cradle to grave, people’s lives fascinate me.   Some might say I’m nosey, but I would prefer the word curious.  I guess that’s why a fundraising career was such a perfect fit.   Before I retired I got paid to talk to people.  Now I do it for free.




My local paper publishes obituaries in a section called Life Tributes, an ambiguous title because it’s not clear to me whether the person is dead or alive.   Generally speaking, these profiles are a statement of facts, often written by a family member, who doesn’t have the time or experience to be creative.  However, recently a local life tribute really jumped out at me.  Heaven gained an incredibly kind and wonderful angel when B.J.  passed away last month.  She is preceded in death by her ex-husband, members of her family, including a sister, a friend “Tiny,” and all the dogs she loved her entire life.    How touching her obituary included her many four-legged friends,  but how surprising the write-up mentioned her ex-husband.





If the obituaries in The Times were longer than the requisite 700 words, I’d call them page turners.  One I consider memorable profiled an engaging gentleman from New York’s Upper East Side, whose raison d’être were frequent lunches at upscale Manhattan restaurants,  like Le Cirque and Tavern on the Green.  What stood out about these occasions were his special companions  — all famous people, like actors, writers, artists, politicians, opera divas, etc., and he always picked up the tab.  He and his guests  were often the first to arrive and usually the last to leave, but always engrossed in deep conversations.  Maybe these events were the basis for the famous Louis Mallé film “My Dinner with André.”





In my early fundraising days, I phoned  a prospective donor to see whether we might continue our conversation about his making a large gift.  When I asked the stranger, who answered the phone, if Mr. Smith was available, the man’s voice, in hushed tones, said, “Well, we were just leaving for his funeral because, I’m sorry to say, he died last week.”  You could have knocked me over with a feather!   After saying something appropriate (I hope) and putting down the phone,  I flipped through a stack of unread newspapers until I found his obituary published the week before.  From that day forward, reading obituaries became a daily habit, along with my morning coffee, because I didn’t want to make this faux pas again.





A recent obituary in The New York Times caught my attention when I read Keith Murdock, 74 dies: Enigmatic rugby player.   Describing a rugby player as enigmatic seemed unusual, so I was eager to read on.  In the piece Murdock was referred to as the Rugby version of Bigfoot.   “Murdock remained the only All Black (a New Zealand national rugby team) to have been sent home from an international tour.  But Murdoch, in fact, did not go home.  Issued with a ticket back to New Zealand, he got off the plane in Singapore and diverted to Australia — to the City of Darwin and from there he virtually disappeared — “Into the Bush” as the Australians say,” and that’s how the moniker Big Foot was acquired.    His legend was so big that he became the subject of a play, “his legend growing in inverse proportion to the confirmed sightings of him.”  Click on this link to read Murdoch’s entertaining obituary in its entirety.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/10/obituaries/keith-murdoch-rugby-bruiser-who-vanished-is-dead-at-74.htm .



Thankfully, not Murdock, but instead a photo from the MUSEO DE LAS MOMIAS (MUMMY MUSEUM) in Guanajuato, Mexico 


Obituaries teach readers a little about a lot:  history, art, medicine, sports, psychology, geography, technology, philosophy, etc.   Reading Philip Roth’s  two page obituary reminded me of the impact Alexander Portnoy’s complaints had on me as an impressionable young reader, and how books like  Tom Wolfe’s  masterpiece “The Electric  Kool-Aid Acid Test” prompted me to explore the 1960s counter culture, since Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters lived just down the road from me in Northern California.    I suspect many of Roth and Wolf’s popular books will become best sellers again after people read their obituaries and are reminded what literary giants left Earth this month.




The New York Times has a staff of experienced obituary writers,  and Margalit Fox, one their best, is retiring in June after 24 years.   “Someone has to do it,” Margalit writes, “but while they have to be done, they also have to be done right.”  Researching is a huge part of the job.   https://newrepublic.com/article/142044/art-new-york-times-obituary 




Death is not a subject I dwell on since I don’t like thinking about things over which I have no control.  However, like the obituaries I enjoy reading, I hope mine is an accurate portrayal, written in the style of  creative nonfiction, that focuses on a colorful life rather than a dreary one.   If my obituary included all the pets I’ve owned, I’d do a little jig, but  if it included the ex-husbands I’ve disowned, I’d turn over in my grave.

















Pam Perkins

  • Phil C Kidd III

    May 24, 2018 at 10:15 am Reply

    Thanks, Pam Phil Kidd

  • Anne Cowan

    May 24, 2018 at 11:04 am Reply

    You would be amazed at the obituaries that are written in the South. I, too, am an inveterate obit reader, going so far as to subscribe to our newspaper’s daily email for this, especially when we are traveling. Thanks for your interesting and amusing post!! Hugs from us.

    • mm

      Pam Perkins

      May 24, 2018 at 11:11 am Reply

      Anne, I suspect that there are many of us who relish the obit page. After reading Philip Roth’s two pager in today’s New York Times,I’m definitely going back and reading one of his many books. The only drawback is that it seems these days I know more of the people, especially in our local paper. Your biking trips continue to amaze me. What’s next?

  • Farah

    May 24, 2018 at 11:10 am Reply

    I had never thought about reading orbituaries! This blog just gave me a whole new perspective. Farah.

    • mm

      Pam Perkins

      May 24, 2018 at 11:13 am Reply

      They are fascinating short stories. If you like biographies but don’t have time, read obituaries instead.

  • marilyn levin

    May 24, 2018 at 11:11 am Reply

    Fascinating And you are a great writer. If it’s not too dreary, you should write your own obituary. Not for a long time.

    • mm

      Pam Perkins

      May 24, 2018 at 1:17 pm Reply

      Thank you, Marilyn! Yes, right now I would find it dreary. Ask me in ten years.

  • Carla newton

    May 24, 2018 at 4:16 pm Reply

    Obits of authors whom you love provide a reminder to go back and read more of their work. This alone makes obits essential reading.

  • Mary Ellen Cuykendall

    May 26, 2018 at 8:03 am Reply

    Not only are obituaries something I enjoy reading, but attending the funerals of patients I have met as a hospice volunteer, although it sounds grueling, can be such a delight. Getting a glimpse of the deceased person I never got to know is both heartwarming and fascinating.
    Thanks again for a wonderful piece with stunning photos!

  • mm

    Pam Perkins

    May 26, 2018 at 12:43 pm Reply

    Hi Mary Ellen, Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it and liked the photos. I have a fascination with cemeteries.

  • Phyllis Whiting

    May 27, 2018 at 4:21 pm Reply

    I rarely read obits — unless it’s a famous person I admired or someone I knew even slightly. Although on a tour of NYT I found that they have already written obits for many Bold Type people and only need to add the final details. A little spooky but very practical. Hugs Phyl

    • mm

      Pam Perkins

      May 29, 2018 at 4:16 pm Reply

      Phyl, thanks for your reply, which is now posted on my page!

  • Andrew Hill

    October 31, 2018 at 12:46 pm Reply

    What an interesting and delightful post, Pam. I’m reading it months after the fact because I’ve been so busy. But as usual, your website does not disappoint. I’ve read somewhere that remembering the dead is not only a way of honoring them but keeping them alive, so to speak. We live on in the memories of those who knew us. You’ve added a unique and interesting twist to this. You’ve given us a chance to remember and honor people we don’t even know. A thoughtful remind that we are all connected–whether we’ve met or not. Thanks so much for posting. I’m tweeting this and sharing on my own Facebook page. Hope that’s okay.

    • mm

      Pam Perkins

      October 31, 2018 at 3:44 pm Reply

      Hi Andrew, Thanks for sharing this post. Of course, I’m flattered. I know what you mean about being busy. I haven’t been writing, but I hope that after the first of the year I will be back online. My mind is too cluttered with other things at the moment. xoxoxo

  • LuRhe Streb

    January 2, 2019 at 4:01 pm Reply

    Another interesting blog! You are always thought-provoking, Pam, and you never disappoint! I wish I had time to go back and read all of the ones I have missed, but I will get to them one of these days!


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