Funeral Times issue 4 2021

Page 72

Coffin Mixtures By Mattie Lennon Am I right about this? When growing up in Catholic rural Ireland would one merit a Plenary Indulgence by procuring one’s coffin before death? Or did this apply to the purchase of the brown habit pre-mortem? Or am I imagining the whole thing? What put that into my head? Oh yes. When Covid restrictions were lifted I visited the Men’s Shed in Blessington. Woodworking tools dating from the early eighteen hundreds to the present day and wooden ashtrays, lamp bases and wood carvings of various shapes and sizes confronted me. Testimony to the talent and skills of the members. Personally I can’t even saw straight. If I attempted to hammer a nail into scaffolding plank there is a good chance that I‘d split it. (The plank, not the nail.) So, you can imagine the reaction of the assembled craftsmen when I asked, “Why don’t you make coffins.” They didn’t say that I was stone mad. Well... not in so many words. But it was pointed out to me that coffin-making was a closed shop. My lack of manual skills is compensated for, somewhat, by my dubious talent for sourcing information. So, I managed to track down a septuagenarian former palliative worker, Katie A Tardis Coffin

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Eileen and Dot Williams, in Rotorua, New Zealand, who, in 2010, decided to make her own coffin. She called a meeting with some of her old friends who had useful skills. Some males raised their eyebrows but did attend the next meeting and the Coffin Club was formed. Katie researched the legalities of the project, tools were discussed, templates were made and plans for construction of coffins were secured. Away they went. Each member enthusiastically embraced the new pastime and set out to make his or her own coffin. Membership is made up of mainly people over 65. Disabled people also help. For instance there was the blind man who wanted to undercoat coffins. He was set up and guided by a volunteer. His Black Lab Help Dog was in great danger of changing into a Dalmatian. Usually the coffins are decorated to reflect the lifestyles of the occupants. Raewynne Latemore’s casket is a shrine to Elvis. And there was the man who planned to take his wallet with him. He attached the back pocket of his jeans to the end of his coffin with the sign, “Who says you can’t take it with you.” Some people might be reluctant to make their own coffin but there is no record of even one death being caused by the exercise. One


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