Death is making a comeback, but not in an apocalyptic way. And women are leading the charge. Women like end-of-life doula Christine Dehlinger.
Dehlinger, a Wisconsin resident, accompanies dying people and their loved ones through the final stages of life, providing support, resources and comfort.
Dehlinger is a part of a growing number of women becoming leaders in a new death movement.
It’s a calling, not a job.
Christine Dehlinger
Beyond the work of funeral homes, women are at the forefront of reawakening discussions and understanding of death.
The movement, sometimes called the Death Positive Movement, aims to enlighten people about death and dying.
As women like Dehlinger work independently within the death industry, there is a growing collective of women, and some men, who are connecting through groups like The Order of the Good Death.
The Order of the Good Death is an online collective that consists of funeral industry professionals, academics and artists who aim to make death a part of life by normalizing death and dying. The group was started by Caitlin Doughty, a mortician in California.
Members of The Order of the Good Death range from morticians to medical historians to animators, and even a cake maker whose work centers around death.
The group aims to take back what death once was: a female-driven operation.
For years, death care was a domestic task that women were in charge of. Funeral homes were opened in the 20th century by men, taking away the death experience from women.
Now, women like Dehlinger are reimagining the death experience.
While Dehlinger works to comfort and aid people as they die, Susana Alba, a Funeral Arranger at Doughty’s Undertaking LA, picks up where Dehlinger leaves off, by organizing funeral services for the deceased.
Undertaking LA is a progressive funeral home in Los Angeles, run by all women.
“What it means to be a progressive funeral home is to give death back into the family’s hands,” said Alba.
“We don’t do ‘traditional funerals’ unless the family requests it. We offer home funerals, dressing, and bathing a body at home. We don’t hide death.”
The number of women in the funeral services industry is rising steadily.
In 2014, according to Data USA, there were over 11,000 men and 2,300 women in the business. By 2016, there were around the same number of men in the business, but the number of women rose to over 3,500.
According to the National Funeral Directors Association (NFDA), nearly 60 percent of mortuary science students in the United States are women.
Despite this increase, there is still a significant wage gap between the genders.
The average male salary is 57,928 dollars, while the average female salary is 43,804 dollars, according to the NFDA.
However, women are working in the death industry in a different capacity than men.
While men run mostly traditional funeral homes, women are invested in natural burials, progressive funeral homes, and other non-traditional movements.
They aim to create a world where death is not something to be feared. They want to create the idea of a ‘good death’ and, in turn, a way to live a good life.
The Evolving Mortician
Funeral Director Sarah Wambold has been in the funeral business since 2005 and seen a major change in the gender dynamic of the industry.
“It’s gotten a lot better,” she said.
“When I was coming into it, it wasn’t like there weren’t women in the business, but they were definitely really gendered roles.”
Women now own, manage, and work in funeral homes, something that Wambold was just beginning to see when she began her apprenticeship at Krause Funeral Homes in Milwaukee.
After completing her undergraduate degree at the University of Iowa, Wambold began her studies at Milwaukee Area Technical College, in their funeral services program.
Much of her graduating class was made up of women.
“I got to be a part of a generation of change and now it’s just like a lot of women are getting into the business and taking leadership roles. So, it’s really good,” said Wambold.
Although she notes that there is still some surprise when female funeral directors are mentioned.
“I think there’s still that sort of shock when people hear you are a funeral director and when women show up to do removals,” said Wambold.
And Wambold says sexism and harassment are still an issue.
People don’t understand decent behavior when women come in the work place and I’ve experienced that as well.
Sarah Wambold
Now located in Austin, Texas, Wambold is a member of The Order of the Good Death, and a pioneer in conservation burials.
A conservation burial stems from a green burial, which is a funeral that does not involve any invasive procedures, including embalming.
“You can have a container that does not use any sort of non-biodegradable material, so like a pine box or a shroud, or nothing if that’s allowed,” said Wambold.
“Families are usually encouraged to have as much involvement as they can. You can hand dig a grave or fill in the grave. And usually there is no headstone, it would be like a stone that is natural to the environment and flat to the ground.”
Wambold now leads program development for large-scale land and conservation burial in Texas.
“In doing a burial on the land, you are furthering to protect the land development and facilitate regrowth or rehabilitation of an area. You are kind of doubling your impact by conserving the land and protecting it,” she said.
Dealing with death every day is stressful, but it has given her a rare insight into people, and the value of life.
“It can all go away, and you definitely appreciate each day a little bit more just because of what the stakes are. It may not be there tomorrow.”
A Mortician’s Education
The funeral services program at Milwaukee Area Technical College (MATC), West Allis Campus, can only enroll 30 students at a time. It’s the only funeral services program in the state.
Glenna Cassini, of Muskego, Wis., graduated from the program in August 2016.
“It’s way more than just embalming and planning a funeral,” said Cassini.
“It’s meeting with families and understanding needs and wants when maybe they don’t even know. It’s learning ways to comfort a person when they are going through one of their worst days. It’s calling churches and cemeteries to make arrangements in a timely manner. It’s coordinating a whole day.”
Program coordinator Julian Jasper has been a licensed funeral director for 26 years.
Jasper noticed a growing trend of women entering the industry.
Traditionally it was more males. But we are seeing more and more females, so that is changing
Julian Jasper
Jasper says last year’s class included only three men.
According to Jasper, students complete their pre-requisite courses elsewhere, and then spend two semesters at MATC completing fifty-seven credits, as well as field experience.
Local funeral homes take on students as apprentices, which counts toward their field experience.
There are specific courses taken for each semester aimed at the funeral services program. Students also take business, and science classes that include microchemistry.
The embalming lab is where students begin to work with and prepare real bodies, donated to the college.
“They come from the ME’s office, unclaimed bodies. Also, we get donations of bodies from funeral establishments where they’ve checked with the family,” said Jasper.
Cassini’s favorite class was Restorative Art.
“I learned how to look at face shapes, symmetry in faces, different techniques for making a natural look and colors. It was a combination of art and science which I really enjoyed,” she said.
In Restorative Art, students start out with a skull, and throughout the semester they must build up a face using wax.
“At the end of the semester they are graded on that, so we look to see if everything is on point with the measurements and how much it looks like the individual,” said Jasper.
Students also have to complete a mock arrangement, where they lead their classmates through making arrangements for a funeral.
Once they have completed their courses and field experience, students sit for their national and state board exams. They also must complete an apprenticeship before getting their license.
Jasper says two characteristics are vital for success in the business.
“I mean you can learn the techniques of how to embalm. You can learn the technical skills of restoring artwork, but when it comes to dealing with the family, it has to be innate. You have to have compassion and be ethical.”
The Doula and the ‘Good Death’
Christine Dehlinger is comfortable with the dying.
Dehlinger, a resident of Brooklyn, Wis., is a certified End of Life Doula, which allows her to accompany people with life-threatening illnesses and their loved ones through the dying process by providing emotional and spiritual support, love, companionship and caring.
In Greek, the word ‘doula’ means ‘to be of service.’
Many people are familiar with birth doulas who are present during the birthing process. An end of life doula hopes to fill somewhat the same role at the other end of the spectrum of human life.
Christine Dehlinger
Dehlinger, who worked as a professional business communicator for nearly 40 years, realized her calling to become an end of life doula came after her mother died of colon cancer in 1989.
“She had what might be considered a ‘good death’ at the time,” said Dehlinger.
“Although she died in a hospital, she and my dad had the opportunity to express her wishes regarding medical intervention, and her wishes were respected. The nurses were caring and provided much comfort as my sister and I sat vigil the night before our mother died.”
After her dad died four years ago at the age of 90, Dehlinger was sure that becoming an end of life doula was her calling.
Dehlinger is in the process of satisfying criteria from the International End-of-Life Doula Association (INELDA), as well as working to earn the Proficiency Badge from the National End-of-Life Doula Alliance. She is a member of both organizations.
End of life doulas provide patients and their families with a variety of support services.
Most of Dehlinger’s training comes from hospice work, where she volunteers her time and skills.
As a blossoming career focused on caregiving and comfort, it’s no surprise that the field consists of mainly women.
According to Dehlinger, the class that she took for training had only two men among the 30 participants.
“To date, the majority of our attendees have been female,” said Jeri Glatter, the vice president of INELDA.
“Often, we have two to three males (in a class of 30 or more). In addition, we have had an increase in individuals who do not want to identify as gender specific. We are also seeing an increase in people of color,” Glatter said.
End of life doulas hope to be able to facilitate a ‘good death’ for their patients, like Dehlinger’s mother had.
According to an Institute of Medicine report, a ‘good death’ is,
“Free from avoidable distress and suffering for patient, family, and caregivers, in general accord with the patient’s and family’s wishes, and reasonably consistent with clinical, cultural, and ethical standards.”
Doulas wish to allow the patient and their family to not only have the support they need, but the knowledge and comfort in knowing that their wishes and decisions matter.
The Horses and the Hearse
Mary Jane Swedberg stood in the carriage barn with an ornate, black, horse drawn hearse, romantic and beautiful.
The hearse was made in 1885 and has belonged to Swedberg since 2012.
The dream of owning a hearse began years ago when Swedberg stumbled on a picture of a hearse in a magazine.
The hearse has allowed Swedberg to be a part of some very special days in people’s lives.
“I feel very privileged, very special to be a part of their celebration,” said Swedberg.
Swedberg, originally from a farm in Antioch, Ill., owns Hoof Beats Express, located in Oconomowoc, Wis. which offers myriad horse drawn services.
Hoof Beats Express does weddings, parades, community events, sleigh rides, and funerals.
Swedberg owns nine well-trained draft horses, but only five are patient enough to take part in funeral services.
“I need a pair that stands quietly when the casket gets loaded and unloaded,” said Swedberg.
Those horses stand quietly for about one to two funeral services a month, according to Swedberg.
The base fee for the horses and the hearse is 1650 dollars, and Swedberg will do it year-round, weather permitting.
A majority of the funerals that Swedberg is asked to be a part of are African-American.
“That culture celebrates life and celebrates the living that that person that has passed away did,” she said.
“And they choose to create an event around that funeral process.”
But some funerals are incredibly sad.
A few years ago, a little girl was shot and killed while sitting on her grandfather’s lap in her Milwaukee home. It was a death that rocked the city, and Swedberg was hired by a private benefactor to carry the casket.
What is usually a 25 mile an hour ride in a hearse slows to around three miles an hour when Swedberg and her team are involved in the funeral procession.
To Swedberg, horses bring an incredible presence to honor special people’s lives. She recalls one mother who lost her child in a tragic accident, who expressed gratitude to Swedberg for helping her honor her little girl.
That mom will now remember that her little girl went to heaven, went to the cemetery, in the hearse.
Mary Jane Swedberg
According to Swedberg, the hearse says a lot about how special and loved the person in the casket was. She hopes her presence at funerals allows for a lasting image for those who the deceased left behind.
“Bringing that special memory to the family, the one that when they think back on their loved one, they can think of the horses and the hearse.”
The Librarian and the Books Bound in Skin
Megan Rosenbloom is not afraid of the macabre; in fact, she’s fascinated by it.
In addition to her work at the University of Southern California Norris Medical Library, where she is the Associate Director of Instructions Services and a Medical Librarian, what piques Rosenbloom’s interest is a practice called anthropodermic bibliopegy.
“Anthropodermic bibliopegy is like the big fifty cent phrase for this practice that not many people know about which is binding books in human skin,” said Rosenbloom.
Occurring mainly in the 19th century, the practice was a melding of clinical medicine and book binding.
As doctors and their treatments became more widely accepted, they had to develop what’s called a “clinical gaze” with their patients in order to remain professional, according to Rosenbloom.
However, the development of a clinical gaze could go too far, as Rosenbloom notes that it was not uncommon for doctors to be doing dissections and saving a piece of skin to bind books in.
It was while Rosenbloom was working toward her Master’s in Library Science at the University of Pittsburgh, that she returned to the Mütter Museum in Philadelphia, a place she had grown up visiting, where she encountered the first of many books bound in human skin.
The Mütter Museum contains fascinating collections of anatomical and pathological specimens, as well as antique medical equipment.
Rosenbloom noticed a display filled with books. The books were normal, brown leather, and not particularly good looking. It wasn’t until Rosenbloom read the display’s caption that she realized what she was seeing.
“I couldn’t believe they existed,” said Rosenbloom.
Over the course of Rosenbloom’s academic and professional career, she would begin to encounter more and more books bound in human skin.
It wasn’t some evil doctors, you know some Hannibal Lector types, doing this work. They were often doctors who were totally well-respected in their field.
Megan Rosenbloom
Rosenbloom, completely intrigued, wanted to test rumored anthropodermic books, and it wasn’t until a chemist applied an old method of protein analysis called peptide mass fingerprinting to the books that they were able to, for the first time, separate the real from the fake.
From this, the Anthropodermic Book Project was born.
Rosenbloom and her team travel the United States and other countries, testing rumored books to uncover the truth that lies in their bindings.
The team has tested 49 alleged anthropodermic books, with 18 confirmed as being bound in human skin.
Rosenbloom is interested in testing books in England that relate to the trial and execution of a prisoner. The books are rumored to be bound in the prisoner’s skin.
The stories that each book has to tell resonates with Rosenbloom, so much so that she wrote her own book about the practice and project entitled “Dark Archives,” scheduled to be published in 2019.
Rosenbloom is also a part of The Order of the Good Death as the Director of Death Salon, and a leader in the Death Positive movement.
The Order of the Good Death is all about death positivity, according to Rosenbloom.
“It’s like a mindset or a philosophy that tends to enrich people’s lives by realizing life’s limitations,” she said.
The ‘Memento Mori’ Jeweler
Angela Kirkpatrick receives some very odd mail.
What she finds inside those envelopes and packages are often pieces of human or animal hair, or cremains.
Kirkpatrick is a memorial jeweler, who takes the contents of those strange packages and creates something beautiful for people to remember their loved ones by.
She has run her own business, Wisp Adornments, out of her home in Olympia, Wash. for almost six years.
Kirkpatrick’s work is done in a Victorian antique fashion, reminiscent of the ‘Memento Mori’ tradition.
“’Memento Mori’ means remember death,” said Kirkpatrick.
From around the 15th Century to the 20th, people often wore jewelry that would remind them of not only their mortality, but also hold hair, ashes, or teeth of their loved ones who had passed away.
It is a tradition that Kirkpatrick believes needs a revival.
“I just really felt like the tradition of Victorian mourning jewelry should be something that we can revive because I think it’s useful to help people feel close to people they’ve lost,” she said.
Kirkpatrick has always liked Victorian antiques and was intrigued by mourning jewelry. Her interest started when she asked a neighbor to set some of her grandmother’s pearls in a bracelet for her, but her neighbor, instead, offered to teach Kirkpatrick to make her own jewelry.
When a friend whose dog had died, wanted a piece of jewelry with her dog’s ashes in it, Kirkpatrick considered making her passion a profession.
Kirkpatrick contacted mortician Caitlin Doughty, founder of The Order of the Good Death.
“She asked me if I could make a ring with her grandparents’ hair in it,” said Kirkpatrick.
Shortly after, Kirkpatrick joined the organization.
“Just being a death activist, being involved with The Order of the Good Death has changed my life, for me, pretty considerably but also I think it helps to be a person who’s willing to talk about grief and mourning and encourage other people to pay it forward with people that they know,” said Kirkpatrick.
It is through her work as a memorial jeweler that, Kirkpatrick believes, she is reclaiming some of that positivity around death.
Many of her clients have also become her friends, and Kirkpatrick has met many in person.
It’s those connections that she often finds are the most meaningful.
“I think sometimes when I meet someone, that those stories stick with me or they stick a little harder in my memory,” said Kirkpatrick.