The art of the obituary: summing up a life

Back when newspapers existed only in print, aspiring journalists had to make their bones writing obituaries. While those of literary pretensions considered this beneath them, writing obituaries actually requires mastery of the basics of good journalism--accuracy in the who, what, when, where, why, and how. And, if possible, capturing the spirit of a human being's life in just a few hundred words.

Today, many newspapers have outsourced the writing of obituaries to funeral directors and legacy.com, which means much of the art is lost.

In my first newspaper job, at the Painesville Telegraph in Ohio, the readership included a large community of Finnish immigrants who came to work in the salt mines under Lake Erie. Spelling all the family names correctly in an obituary represented a mighty challenge. Some random Finnish names will give you the idea--Armas Oiva Sarkkinen, Toivo Suursoo, Jukka Kuoppamaki.

Immigrant obituaries offered the possibility for fascinating stories. When and why did they emigrate? What was the journey like? How did they meet their spouse? Where were they stationed during the war? (because there is nearly always a war in these stories).

I remember an editor telling me, "This is often the only story that will ever be written about that person. Their family members clip and save the story. You have to get every detail right." A well written obituary is sometimes the best thing in a newspaper. The drama of one person's life: pain and glory.

Once while covering suburban news at the Columbus Dispatch, I interviewed a 20-year-old who had started a business designing and building helium and hot-air balloons for advertising and transport. He had earned a license as a commercial balloon pilot and took people for rides.

His name was Louis Kovach. He crackled with intelligence. Turns out his fascination with balloons had started early and evolved into a drive to know all their history and the science behind them: how they were used by armed forces as far back as the 18th century; how they were designed and built; which materials were used. He spent three months in Europe during his high school years visiting centers of balloon research. He relied on translators except in Hungary, his father's native country.

Louis's father was a nuclear safety engineer, so the son's scientific bent may have come naturally. The younger Kovach dreamed of one day flying a balloon around the world, so he studied global weather patterns and interviewed experienced pilots. He was convinced it could be done in a hot-air balloon. (This was 1980; a Swiss and Brit accomplished the feat in 1999.)

College would have to wait. A year after I interviewed him, he was giving a ride to a couple when the wind carried the gondola toward an electric transmission tower. He told the passengers to lie on the floor of the gondola for their protection. When the balloon hit the tower, Kovach was thrown backwards, and the backs of his hands struck a transmission line. He was electrocuted, and the balloon fell about 15 or 20 feet to the ground. His two passengers were only slightly injured.

At the time of the accident, I had been transferred from the suburbs to covering state government and politics. So I am not sure why I ended up writing Louis's obituary. Maybe I asked. Louis's energy and vision had impressed me, and his death saddened me.

At an informal memorial gathering of friends and family, I met Louis's father. He told me a Federal Aviation Administration investigator said that Louis's actions probably saved his passengers' lives. The elder Louis Kovach was glad to be told that a reporter had been impressed by his son. He wanted the world to know how proud he was of young Louis.

I am not sure that many newspapers today would cut a reporter loose for half a day to drive up to a memorial gathering and interview grieving family members face to face, which is what I did. I don't claim it is a great obituary, just the best I could do that day within the newspaper's limits of space and time. Today it probably would have been the job of a funeral director or the family themselves to write the obituary.

Somehow it seems more valuable for a community institution, like a daily newspaper, to call attention to the achievements of someone who has died and lament their passing. People value these stories. A publication with some skilled writers could even specialize in them. I'm surprised that no one has figured that out yet.

Related: 
Life and death in a Spanish village
Córdoba's mix of Muslim, Jewish, Christian culture
What we learned traveling in northern and eastern Europe