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May 13, 2012 / hippiechickamblings

Death Becomes Him

My dad was the son of a coal miner and grew up poorer than dirt. When he quit school at sixteen to venture underground into those black, oily pits, it was simply all he knew to do. Apparently, it didn’t take him long to figure out his future lay somewhere else, for he left that hole in the ground and joined the Army, seeing a much bigger world than he’d ever imagined. I’ve often wondered what that must’ve been like for him, a mountain boy from the coalfields, suddenly in the green valleys of Germany.

That sheltered young boy wound up in a big city, facing the dubious prospect of planning a future for a young wife, (after waiting seven years to marry her, which is another whole story). So, what does he wind up doing? Going to mortuary school to be an undertaker! When I asked him once, how, on God’s green earth, he hit on this idea for a vocation, he said, “Well, I had to do something to hang on to your mother. I figured being an undertaker was one way I’d never have to worry about being out of a job!” When I asked him if he was interested in that “field,” or if he knew what he was getting into, he replied, “I didn’t have nary a clue.”

copy right 2012 written by hippie chick all rights reserved no part of this may used

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