Experiences of a coffineer - Part 4

Let's talk about death, baby. Let's talk about you and me.....



....Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be.

Did you see what I did there?

Ok sorry, but given the nature of this post, I couldn't resist the play on words. And it makes such a nice catchy title doesn't it? No, truly, doesn't it?

Anyway, if you're bored already and would rather not talk about death, maybe click the link below and listen to the Salt N Pepa classic instead. It's really called "Let's talk about sex" just in case you weren't aware - and it's a funky little number!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzfo4txaQJA

However, if you are still here (or you've just come back having listened to Salt N Pepa) then that's a good sign.

This week has been all about getting people to talk about death, or so it seems to me, and I think that is a really good thing.

Why do I think this? Well let me put it this way, we all have to talk about death at some stage - it's inevitable that death is going to cross our path on at least one occasion in our "life" and it's more likely that we'll have to deal with the death of at least a couple of friends and family members on the way - so why wait until it's smacking us in the face with its harsh reality to start talking?

Life really is a beautiful thing and hopefully most of us will enjoy at least some part of our short time on this planet (and hopefully a lot more). But we all know this time is limited (within our present existence anyway) and so isn't it better that we are open and honest with ourselves and acknowledge this fact. Isn't it a better idea that we talk about life and death, and talk about our hopes and wishes in both? Isn't it better that we prepare our children and spouses and siblings for what is going to happen instead of shielding them from it - only for it to appear in childhood nightmares and possibly shocking depression in later life?

I remember as a child, no one ever talked to me about death and I was never taken to the funerals of family members until I was in my late teens and early twenties when my grandmothers passed away - and I think by then it was too late and I didn't really understand what it meant or how i thought about the whole thing. I think I just felt a bit awkward about it all, seeing my parents and relations upset and emotional in a way that I hadn't previously experienced.

And, then a few year later, I remember my boss's mother dying. At work, I sat right next to him in an open plan office - right at the top of the NatWest Tower just before it was blown up by the IRA - and on his first day back into the office I didn't have a clue what to say to him or how to react and so out of ignorance (and feeling highly embarrassed) I said nothing at all and could hardly look him in the eyes. I remember I was mortified at the time (and a while after) and this thought has stayed with me forever. But this, I think, is a perfect example of lack of understanding and preparation within our culture.

Anyway, this week has brought to my attention the existence of three different ideas to improve this failure in our "protective" society, get rid of the awful stigma that surrounds death and get people talking about it:

No. 1 on the hit chart for me is a primary school teacher in Japan who encourages his pupils to write notes about how they are feeling and gets them to read them out to the class as a debating point. On this occasion we see one little boy talk about his grandmother's passing and this then encourages other pupils to talk about their own experiences. This then prompts a little girl who lost her own father at a very young age to open up and talk about her own thoughts for the very first time. It's very moving (and very lovely at the same time) so prepare yourself with a big box of tissues:

Running time less that 10 mins - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=armP8TfS9Is


In a close no. 2 position, is the new, morbidly named Death Cafe which is becoming popular both here and abroad. Have you been to a Death cafe? Or do you fancy organising one for your village hall? It's not as morbid as it sounds - more of a self help group really but you can make it your own thing so long as there is cake a-bounty and lashings of tea and coffee on hand. Essentially, it's an idea to help people come to terms with death by talking with like minded people...and it's catching on fast. So it's true, people do want to talk about death!

Find out more at www.deathcafe.com


And Finally in position 3 - but there's no intended ranking here they are all good for their own achievements - the Natural Death Centre's brand spanking new and completely free "more to death magazine" a bi-annual publication which covers all aspects of death but with a bias towards natural funeral options.

Find out more at www.naturaldeath.org.uk


So a trilogy of activity to get people talking about death. Nice. 

Now go and listen to that Salt N Pepa classic one more time...but sing along with the "new" words!

To find out more about Wealden Coffins please visit www.wealdencoffins.co.uk

Experiences of a Coffineer - Part 3

The emotional side of being a Coffineer


Twelve months ago I was working as a Marketing Manager in a city investment firm. Now I'm building the new and innovative Curve coffins that seem to be creating a stir in some circles (see my previous posts) - both good and, sometimes, not so good!

As you can imagine, life is quite different in many ways. I've swapped the luxurious air-conditioned offices - with freshly brewed cappuccino and natural spring water on tap - of central london for a draughty, often smelly farm building in the Kent countryside. I've swapped the never ending buzz of city life for an isolated farm with often no one but Ken Bruce, Jeremy Vine and Steve Wright for company!

In some ways I miss the constant buzz of city life - but in many more ways I prefer the peace and tranquility of the countryside and the satisfaction I get from making beautiful coffins with my gorgeous partner, Holly - she's the artistic one! - plus the sheer beauty and wonderfully fresh air you can only get from working in the countryside. 

One of the most satisfying parts of the job are the new people that I have met and some of the heart-moving conversations that I've had with them.

It has to be said that, since starting in this business, I have had some of the most amazing conversations of my life. Conversations that I never dreamed that I would be having even just 12 months ago. 

Gone now are the discussions about sales levels, fund performance, RDR (IFAs out there will know what I'm talking about), TCF (or Treating Customers Fairly) and lots of other not-very-interesting industry acronyms. No more 3 hour meetings to discuss why our investment process is so much more fabulous and amazing than ABC Fund Managers down the road (and on that point it's fair to say it's been a pretty topsy-turvy ride for most fund managers in recent times no matter how robust their investment process!) and gone is the office gossip about things like what Brenda in accounts was seen doing with Dave in the mail room at Trisha's leaving drinks!

No, now I have real, meaningful conversations about people's lives or more accurately people's deaths. Conversations about how they are planing their own funeral, or the funeral of someone close, conversations about how they want to do something special, something out of the norm or simply something to be remembered.

Now, I'm quite an emotional wreck at the best of times - I cried at Toy Story and Avatar, and many other Disney movies, for God's sake - but I'm afraid this is nothing compared to hearing real stories from real people. Stories about love and life and death.

Although I have had many amazing conversations, I think the most emotional story I have heard to date was from a young mother - we'll call her Sophie.

Holly and I had been away for the weekend visiting friends and upon our return I had an email and 2 voicemail messages from Sophie - one on my land line and one on my mobile - the battery of which had run out halfway through the weekend - so I knew that this was an urgent call.

Feeling slightly unnerved, I phoned Sophie first thing on Monday morning and she answered the phone almost immediately. The next 15 minutes were some of the most difficult minutes of my life but at the same time, somehow, some of the most beautiful. 

Sophie told me how she had found Wealden Coffins through the Good Funeral Guide whilst undertaking research for the funeral of her 18 month old daughter. For ease, we'll call Sophie's daughter Emily.

You see, Emily had a congenital brain tumour and her life expectancy was never expected to be too long but she had survived 18 months and her parents had lived every day of her short life with the knowledge that their little girl might not last another week. However, the previous week had not been a good one and Emily had taken a turn for the worse. Sophie and her husband had been told to prepare for the worst by their doctors. 

Sophie and her husband had decided to undertake Emily's funeral themselves so they could make the service as personal as possible and Sophie was looking at all of the options available to them. They were going to arrange and conduct the funeral with the help of the priest at the local church and they wanted a special coffin for their little girl. Of course, despite the incredibly sad circumstances, I was quite overwhelmed that they had chosen one of our hand painted Curve coffins over all of the others available on the market.

In between telling me about her daughter's condition we somehow also managed to talk about the practicalities of supplying a coffin for later that week, we discussed the colour scheme and the design that they wanted painted on it and we talked about the cost. What made it even harder for me, I think, was the knowledge that at this time Emily was still alive but not expected to survive the week. I could only imagine the level of heartache that Sophie was suffering whilst arranging the funeral of her little girl with humility and dignity.

At the end of the call I immediately burst into tears and sobbed for several minutes. It had taken all of my self control to hold it together during my conversation with Sophie and I hadn't realised the extent of the affect it was having on me. It had left me physically and mentally exhausted and that was from just one short phone call with a mother whose daughter was about to die. It only makes one wonder what sort of anguish those parents were going through on a daily basis.

Holly and I worked hard to deliver the coffin in time and I must say it looked quite beautiful. I know that Sophie and her husband were delighted with the coffin - we received a lovely email from them telling us so - so I assume that sadly they did require it in the end and poor little Emily passed from this world into the next.

Conversations like this one make me realise just how lucky I am to have three healthy children and remind me just how fragile life is. It amazes me that people like Sophie have the strength to carry on when they are suffering such mental anguish. 

But, at the same time, it also makes me see that if we can do anything to make that transition into the next world any easier by producing beautiful coffins for people then we must be doing something right.











Sorry, this is not a great picture and does not really do justice to Holly's lovely artwork.

For more information about our beautiful coffins please go to www.wealdencoffins.co.uk





All of the names used within this post have been altered for personal privacy. 

Experiences of a coffineer - Part 2

What's in a name

Before I start this peice I should just say (and I think it's completely appropriate given the subject of this particular post) that this blog was very, very close to being titled "The experiences of a confiner". Not because I thought this was a particularly good title or the fact that I like the idea of being the ultimate confiner, so to speak, but solely due to the power of the Blogger spell-check / auto-correct function. 

Yes, the blogers' tool had decided in its wisdnm that "Confiner" was a better word than "Coffineer" and had tried to outwit me by sneaking in the change. It was only at the last second, as my curser hovered perilously close to the "Publish" button that I spotted its dastardly plan and changed it back. You see the word "Coffineer" for some unknown reason does not actually appear in the OED the Collins or any other dictionary for that matter* and so in a way the computer blog thing was right...or was it?

Anyway, back to the story which takes place over a pint or two of Shepherd Naeme's finest ale at the Vine Inn in Tenterden. I was enjoying a drink in the warmth of the bar with my partner, Holly and our two friends Barry and Izzy who had been minding our collection of Curve coffins whilst we packed up the "stall" after the aforementioned late night shopping evening. 

As previously mentioned, I had been frozen to the core with nothing but a Woodchurch scouts' alcohol free mulled wine - if there can be such a thing - and a last minute, life saving portion of Bob's chips (bought to me by the delightful Holly) after 4 hours in the freezing cold and so was in desperate need of a pint or two of the amber nectar in the warmth of this fine hostelry.

It was a particularly busy night but we managed to secure a few inches of carpet close to the bar. We are pretty good friends with one of the managers at this particular drinking hole, what with him being a fully paid up member of Equity and what with three of us also treading the boards on occasion, and conversation soon turned to the events of the night and how we were getting on with this 'ere coffin making malarky. 

After explaining that we had had a good night despite some "raised eyebrows" - see later post to come courtesy of Kentish Express - Fraser, for that is the bar manager's name, asked what the formal address should be for a coffin maker of distinction. Was it a Coffinister, a simple box maker, a death chippie, a screwer and banger or what?

So I in my finest anglo-saxon and at the top of my voice proudly declared "I am a Coffineer - All for one and one for all!" 

Experiences of a coffineer - Part 1

The late night shopping experience

And so it was, on a cold winter’s evening in deepest darkest Kent, that I found myself ferrying freshly made and painted Curve coffins back and forth between my small farm-based workshop and the 8 by 8 high street plot that was to be my pitch for the evening.

Now, I whole heartedly agree that, perhaps, coffins are possibly not everyone’s obvious first choice as a stocking filler, but as newly signed up members of the local Chamber of Commerce, Wealden Coffins were invited to attend the Christmas late night shopping event alongside other local businesses and organisations. We were positioned in a prime position alongside a local scout group and the Kent Air Ambulance and opposite a local hostelry from whence came an abundance of festive entertainment. A good pitch I thought, although without any of the usual mod cons – gazebo, outside lighting, thermal underwear etc. Just me, a pork pie hat and the coffins - see pic below.

I say ferrying (above) since at this moment in time we are not in possession of a sensible vehicle for the carriage of coffins and so (for transportation purposes) they sit proudly on the roof bars of my resourceful Renault Clio. As you can imagine, this spectacle alone has raised many an eye in the Kent countryside and further afield as we transport our coffins around the country. However, we’ve used this tried and tested method on several occasions to deliver our beautiful coffins to funeral directors as far afield as Brighton (around 30 miles) and Central London (around 50 miles – which included a fair jog around the M25 en route).

Whilst delivering a sample Curve coffin to ARKA in Brighton last year, at one point we found ourselves in a funeral convoy with a traditional hearse up front, a funeral limousine and then our little Clio with one of our coffins aloft. Fortunately, in many ways, the Curve doesn’t really look like a traditional coffin and so I think many people assume we are just transporting a painted ottoman or such like. Anyway on this occasion I think we managed to get away with it!

So, back to the late night shopping and eventually I was all set up and raring to go in the high street with three of our Curve coffins on trestles (2 of which were hand painted and a third which was plain timber), a stack of marketing literature and details of our exciting “Design a coffin” competition! First prize a £20 Amazon voucher!

Despite the cold - and blimey it was cold! – quite a few people had braved the weather to enjoy the festivities, take in the sights and generally fill themselves on free mince pies and mulled wine from the various stalls and shops that were open and offering free treats to entice customers in. And, despite any freebies of my own, very soon I started to get people stopping and looking and pointing and even a few people who wanted to chat.

I always knew that it could be quite controversial to have a coffin stall at a Christmas late night shopping event – well, it’s not normal is it? – and I think the Chamber of Commerce were quite brave in their decision to invite us but I was quite surprised at the level of interest we received. As you may imagine, we had a very mixed reaction from people as they passed  our display but reaction we did get as well as some interesting follow-up PR from the local press.

Interestingly, the majority of people didn’t seem to realise immediately that I was promoting coffins. I had many people rush up to me asking, “What are they?” and swiftly followed up with an “I knew they were” or an “I told you so” or even an “that’s five quid you owe me” when I confirmed that they were indeed coffins. It seems that many of these just didn't quite believe that I could be standing there with a display of coffins when Santa was just around the corner giving treats out to young children and Mary and Joseph were entertaining the 3 wise men in the local church. 

I must admit I did get a few people who suggested that it wasn’t particularly festive and even one gentleman who muttered under his breath, but loud enough to make his feelings heard, that it was “bloody outrageous”. But at the same time I received a lot of very positive feedback from people who wanted to talk about the interesting new look of our coffins, were pleased that we had bought a “taboo” and hidden away subject out into the open, who were interested in the construction of the strange curved coffins or who were just interested in having a chat.

Extraordinarily, following a conversation with the event organiser for Godington House in Ashford, we may also have the potential of exhibiting one of our coffins with them, during their annual “sculpture in the gardens” exhibition! We'll see how that one pans out in a later instalment.

All in all, a pretty good evening I thought, despite eventually losing the feeling in both my toes and my fingers, and definitely something that I would do again. It was a real eye-opener to see how the public reacted to our presence and yet the praise we received far outweighed any negative sentiment. Following the many positive conversation I had this evening I think it is time that we brought our industry out into the open and let people see some of the options available to them before they reach that time when they have to make a purchase!

Photo courtesy of Lewis Brockway – Dec 2012

For more information about Wealden Coffins please visit www.wealdencoffins.co.uk