Another surprisingly effective promotional item is the fancy ink pens that I present to folks in mass quantities. Again, on the advice of my marketing friend, I now purchase expensive ballpoint pens (with my name and phone number on them, of course) and offer them to people just as I would a business card. If people ask to borrow my pen, I hand it over and tell them to keep it. My pens are thick with a padded grip, trimmed in gold and cost more than $3 each. If you offer people a cheap pen, then they have a cheap pen; offer them a quality, expensive pen and they are impressed that it is theirs to keep and are not likely to forget who presented it to them. My sons and I have a pocketful of pens with us at all times and make sure we hand them out every day, if possible. When we go to remove a deceased loved one from a hospital, a nursing care facility, or even a private residence, anyone present or nearby receives an official Webster Funeral Home pen. The nurses and caregivers at the local hospice unit greet us when we arrive with a familiar refrain: “We need some more of your nice pens.”
A family called recently and requested that we come to the residence to remove their late mother. The caller on the line stated that he was calling our funeral home because his next-door neighbor always had one of my pens in his pocket and often told folks in the neighborhood that I had once given him a handful of pens one day.
Whenever I go to deliver a prearrangement presentation in a group setting, I always leave two pens at each attendee’s seat. Many times attendees approach me at the conclusion of the presentation to return the pens but are happy when they realize the pens are theirs to keep.
Speaking engagements are the ultimate seed planters. When I started in the funeral business many years ago, I worked for an employer who despised public speaking, and if a group requested a presentation from the funeral home, I was instructed to be the sacrificial lamb. My employer would tell me that such public presentations were a waste of time and that those in attendance consistently asked the most idiotic questions. I, however, welcomed the opportunity not only to gain some possible customers but also to educate a public yearning to know about what goes on in a funeral home, and especially how much it is going to cost. My former employer probably won’t admit it, but there were many funerals at that funeral home because of my “pre-need” presentations. (When we are called for service upon the death of a loved one, that is considered “at-need.” When someone who is very much alive decides to arrange and pay for their funeral services before their own death, that is “pre-need.”)
Since I opened my funeral home in 2001, I have actively offered to speak to Veterans of Foreign Wars groups, retirement communities, and churches. Nearly every request I have made is positively acknowledged, and most every time an appointment is made for such a speaking engagement. For the first few seminars I conducted, I came prepared with a briefcase stuffed full of insurance applications, contracts, and ink pens, assuming I would be inundated with a new crop of customers. Alas, such is not the case. I have not once completed a sale at the conclusion of one of my seminars—most likely because folks are hesitant to attempt to complete such documentation in such a public forum, and I completely understand. Perhaps folks are concerned that their peers might overhear some of their answers to required questions, especially when a monetary amount is discussed.
However, just like billboard advertising, television advertising, ink pens, or business cards, a personal appearance seminar is a sure-fire seed planter. Even the informational brochures I hand out plant the seed in the potential customer’s mind to remember my funeral home when the need arises. I have had so many customers come to me to prearrange their funeral services because they attended one of my seminars two or three years earlier. A gentleman called recently to inform me of his wife’s death. During our initial conversation, he thanked me for being so informative when he and his late wife attended a pre-need presentation I had delivered three years prior at a Ford Motor Company retirees’ luncheon.
There are cases where funeral directors have woven their own networking webs by mingling at various civic functions, especially anything church related. Bingo nights at churches have long been golden opportunities for directors to press the flesh, hand out draft beer and Cokes, and always be certain to pause and fawn over the elderly ladies—who are the mouthpieces of their church. They quickly spread the word when they find a funeral director whom they consider nice.
One longtime director friend who has since died was once considered the area’s king of the church supper. He hit as many as possible on any given evening, and upon his departure, he would find the minister, thank him for his hospitality, and slip a crisp $50 bill into his palm—a huge sum in the 1940s. Which director do you suppose that minister recommended whenever a death in the church family occurred?
My elderly friend scored big in the 1950s with an ingenious promotional item, again targeting churchgoers. A traveling salesman was peddling high-priced grandfather-clock kits. He also had thirty large schoolhouse clocks stored in a warehouse, collecting dust, which he wished to dispose of. My friend proposed that if his funeral home’s name were painted on the clocks’ white faces, he would buy all thirty. Soon thirty local churches had new clocks positioned in their sanctuaries so that the clergy could see them clearly. Instead of glancing at their watches to be sure their sermons ended by noon, they glanced at the clocks—and at the same time etched the funeral home’s name in their minds.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Just what is a wake, anyway? What about a visitation? A viewing? A memorial service? Clarification is sometimes necessary when detailing funeral events.
A visitation, sometimes still referred to as a wake, which long ago meant staying awake to spend time with the deceased and his or her family, still involves the act of spending time. A visitation means that people visit and pay respects to the deceased and his or her surviving family members. Friends and associates of the deceased’s family come to the funeral home, sign the guest book, view the reposing deceased, and offer condolences to the family. Generally, most mourners leave after these obligatory acts, but other mourners will stay and have coffee, or just sit in the chapel for the entire visitation period. Also acceptable is viewing, which literally means to view the deceased.
The traditional wake, staying up with the deceased, is still sometimes practiced today. In my area there are many Southern Pentecostal families, for whom all-night visitations are quite common. Two or three times each year we conduct them, usually at churches. We deliver the deceased by four o’clock, and the visitation continues until the funeral service takes place the following day. It’s noted in an obituary as follows: “Visitation after five o’clock Tuesday at the Church of Holy Grace until the time of the funeral service on Wednesday at eleven o’clock.”