Any regular readers of the newspaper will begin recognizing the same names over and over again, whether it's elected officials making a case for keeping their jobs, brainy kids who always show up on the school honor roll or habitual offenders who continually populate the arrest log.For others, the only time their name will appear in print is when we run their obituaries.
Too often we receive information from a funeral home that makes an editor slap his head and wish we had known about the person when he was still among us -- people who took in countless foster children, who had unusual occupations or significant triumphs, who traveled to far-flung nations or established a successful business right here in town with only a grade school education.
Sometimes it's not too late. A case in point was a few years ago when a local couple died within hours of one another. An astute editor spied the possibility of a story that needed to be told and a reporter talked to the couple's daughter, learning that her father was in a nursing home and had died first. Her mother, a patient in a hospital across town, heard the news and whispered that it was now time for her to join him.
It wasn't a story with a huge headline, but the reporter crafted it into an account of the love and devotion that existed between this husband and wife and the daughter who appreciated that fact even as she was grieving.
Obituaries can truly be an art form, and some of the major daily newspapers have staff devoted just to covering "the dead beat." Of course, with the cuts to newspapers lately, some of this may suffer along with the way they're closing foreign bureaus.
When I taught a writing class, I had examples of what I considered good prose. Included was an obituary from the Los Angeles Times about a cop reporter who had some notoriety among police and newspaper folks.
The obituary painted a picture of this man who lived for his job, who had a dozen police scanners and showed up on the scene long before his competition. He drove a rental car and would trade it in when the back seat overflowed with fast-food wrappers and scraps of food. He always kept a pile of newspapers back there, too, just for cushioning in case he got rear-ended. He traveled with a sidekick named Tiny who weighed 300 pounds. Now that's painting a picture.
Several years ago, when we published obituaries free of charge, we had strict guidelines about what could be included -- for instance, foiling some clever people who tried sneaking in pets as surviving family members. Today, obituaries can be as creative and inclusive as survivors want since they're paying for them.
We are no less careful, however, about making sure that we follow newsroom guidelines for accuracy. If the funeral home says there are three brothers surviving, we make sure to list three names. But that's not to say there won't be mistakes -- we are dealing with humans -- and when that happens there is as much gnashing of teeth and feeling bad as if we get a wrong headline or leave a crucial detail out of a story.
We are mindful that families are going through a tough enough time dealing with their loss and a mistake in an obituary is the last thing they need. We realize that for many, this is the only time they will appear in print, and we must get it right.