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The Modern Viking Funeral
When Charlie died the family wanted to do him right by making sure he was dressed for the afterlife ready for his favorite past time. Charlie loved to hunt.
Charlie wasn’t big into religion. Sunday being three of the twenty-one days he had off during deer season just wasn’t going to compete with stand time. As for the rest of the year he’d show up for Christmas and Easter. And per his wishes he was to just have a small memorial at the local mortuary that by coincidence also had it’s own new high tech cremation service. He also dictated that his ashes be poured beneath his favorite stand that he might see all of the deer that he’d missed.
So there he was on the day of the funeral in his coffin dressed in his wool shirt and Mackinaw coat. Blaze orange hat with the visor on it in place just so. It was quite the presentation. Walking by the coffin you’d swear he was still alive.
The kids had even put a can of Venus velvet tobacco, some rolling papers, and matches in his vest pocket. Two ham sandwiches, a bag of oatmeal cookies, deep woods off, a small jack knife, a roll of cord, Kleenex, hand warmers, and half a dozen small snickers bars were tucked away in easy reach in the vest pockets, and the carved deer antler handle of his favorite hunting knife and the small red plastic lid of his coffee thermos was visible just above the lower lid. You could even smell the faint whiff of the small spill of fresh Folgers that had just been put into the thermos not half an hour ago.
The entire casket was draped in camouflage colored canvas and a garland of fresh bittersweet surrounded it. Across the top of the opening lay his prize 30:06 semi automatic with scope. The safety on and the breach open of course. The family and friends passed the casket and said their tearful farewells while Charlie looked like he was just basking in the sun on a warm day in the stand.
The minister eventually announced the start of the service whereupon Charlie's younger brother ceremonially placed the rifle in the case and handed it back to the family. The casket was sealed and the service started. The Minister's sermon was full of details of Charlie's life and of his love of the great outdoors.
Finally the time had come. The family rose and laid their hands upon the casket one last time. The bittersweet were removed and draped over the large square opening that had appeared in the back wall of the chapel. The camouflage was folded and set over in the corner by the mortician. Six of Charlie’s younger, husky male friends and sons stood around the casket and moved it from the stand in front of the pew to a stand with rollers in front of the opening. The minister said a last prayer, the casket bearers stood back and the three hundred pound box of finely finished pine slid silently into the incinerator The outer door of the device slid down silently into place.
After a moment of silence the mortician flicked a switch and the was the sound of a great blower, the click and rush of five cubic feet of propane per second and the roar of flames.
The minister said another prayer for the family, the community, and Charlie’s new adventures in the great beyond, " in the name of the father, and the son, and HOLY @#$&!"
He exclaimed as the first of the 180 grain Remington shells exploded! In their attempt to be accurate the kids had also placed two full ten round clips and two loaded belt magazines with twelve bullets in each of the red plastic holders on their fathers belt.
In addition Charlie was packing a flask of twelve year old Johnny Walker Black Label Whisky, a 1911 Range Office Champion 45 ACP with a full clip of 230 grain rounds, a spare magazine in the right pocket of his Duluth pants and a 50 round box that he always carried (just in case) in his vest and a halfpound tanneite target tucked between his legs.
The pews emptied quickly as everyone dove to the sides of the room. Fortunately the device was made of rather heavy gauge welded steel which only amplified the sound.
Due to the imprecise nature of the process, the slowing of the process by the exploding coffee thermos, and the random location of all of the ammunition the show continued on for a good half hour with periods of quiet and sudden bursts of gun fire as if Charlie had snuck up on a band of terrorists and a battle ensued. There was no way to stop the process and no one was crazy enough to suggest that they attempt to open the door and put out the fire.
His two sons that had been so careful to artistically ensure that their father was authentically presented had forgotten that cremation involved burning.
Following the service a small lunch of deviled ham sandwiches, potato salad, glorified rice, mints and peanuts was served. The bar across the street was quite busy following the ordeal. Everyone had to admit that Charlie had definitely gone out with a bang!
When Charlie died the family wanted to do him right by making sure he was dressed for the afterlife ready for his favorite past time. Charlie loved to hunt.
Charlie wasn’t big into religion. Sunday being three of the twenty-one days he had off during deer season just wasn’t going to compete with stand time. As for the rest of the year he’d show up for Christmas and Easter. And per his wishes he was to just have a small memorial at the local mortuary that by coincidence also had it’s own new high tech cremation service. He also dictated that his ashes be poured beneath his favorite stand that he might see all of the deer that he’d missed.
So there he was on the day of the funeral in his coffin dressed in his wool shirt and Mackinaw coat. Blaze orange hat with the visor on it in place just so. It was quite the presentation. Walking by the coffin you’d swear he was still alive.
The kids had even put a can of Venus velvet tobacco, some rolling papers, and matches in his vest pocket. Two ham sandwiches, a bag of oatmeal cookies, deep woods off, a small jack knife, a roll of cord, Kleenex, hand warmers, and half a dozen small snickers bars were tucked away in easy reach in the vest pockets, and the carved deer antler handle of his favorite hunting knife and the small red plastic lid of his coffee thermos was visible just above the lower lid. You could even smell the faint whiff of the small spill of fresh Folgers that had just been put into the thermos not half an hour ago.
The entire casket was draped in camouflage colored canvas and a garland of fresh bittersweet surrounded it. Across the top of the opening lay his prize 30:06 semi automatic with scope. The safety on and the breach open of course. The family and friends passed the casket and said their tearful farewells while Charlie looked like he was just basking in the sun on a warm day in the stand.
The minister eventually announced the start of the service whereupon Charlie's younger brother ceremonially placed the rifle in the case and handed it back to the family. The casket was sealed and the service started. The Minister's sermon was full of details of Charlie's life and of his love of the great outdoors.
Finally the time had come. The family rose and laid their hands upon the casket one last time. The bittersweet were removed and draped over the large square opening that had appeared in the back wall of the chapel. The camouflage was folded and set over in the corner by the mortician. Six of Charlie’s younger, husky male friends and sons stood around the casket and moved it from the stand in front of the pew to a stand with rollers in front of the opening. The minister said a last prayer, the casket bearers stood back and the three hundred pound box of finely finished pine slid silently into the incinerator The outer door of the device slid down silently into place.
After a moment of silence the mortician flicked a switch and the was the sound of a great blower, the click and rush of five cubic feet of propane per second and the roar of flames.
The minister said another prayer for the family, the community, and Charlie’s new adventures in the great beyond, " in the name of the father, and the son, and HOLY @#$&!"
He exclaimed as the first of the 180 grain Remington shells exploded! In their attempt to be accurate the kids had also placed two full ten round clips and two loaded belt magazines with twelve bullets in each of the red plastic holders on their fathers belt.
In addition Charlie was packing a flask of twelve year old Johnny Walker Black Label Whisky, a 1911 Range Office Champion 45 ACP with a full clip of 230 grain rounds, a spare magazine in the right pocket of his Duluth pants and a 50 round box that he always carried (just in case) in his vest and a halfpound tanneite target tucked between his legs.
The pews emptied quickly as everyone dove to the sides of the room. Fortunately the device was made of rather heavy gauge welded steel which only amplified the sound.
Due to the imprecise nature of the process, the slowing of the process by the exploding coffee thermos, and the random location of all of the ammunition the show continued on for a good half hour with periods of quiet and sudden bursts of gun fire as if Charlie had snuck up on a band of terrorists and a battle ensued. There was no way to stop the process and no one was crazy enough to suggest that they attempt to open the door and put out the fire.
His two sons that had been so careful to artistically ensure that their father was authentically presented had forgotten that cremation involved burning.
Following the service a small lunch of deviled ham sandwiches, potato salad, glorified rice, mints and peanuts was served. The bar across the street was quite busy following the ordeal. Everyone had to admit that Charlie had definitely gone out with a bang!
