A mortuary technician by the name of Garry.
One of the things I love about being a shopkeeper is how quickly a conversation with a customer can become an organic learning experience. There is so much more time in this little village to get to know and learn about the lives of so many people, whereas, in the city, it would be all about lining coffees up one after the other and getting them out of the door. It is challenging, however, to get away from my desire to grab my notebook in order to take down every quote, verbatim, for the purposes of accuracy.
But, I have also become aware, through my career as a journalist, of how the presence of such a notebook (and seeing someone take down one’s words in writing) can actually disfigure the facts and the beauty of the message being conveyed. People can become so caught up in how they project themselves that they unknowingly distort the truth in order to present a more palatable version of the truth; or to unwittingly create a more handsome facade of themselves in connection with the truth.
In these times where “Fake News” is the catch cry for anything unpalatable, to the receive; I am becoming interested in a new concept of interactive journalism. First, I write down my take and my experience of the conversation with the subject and then inviting them, through the blog, to respond back as to what their experience of the conversation was and where, I might perhaps, have misinterpreted their message. Maybe, through a mutual editing process that comes after the raw interaction, there is more of an opportunity to find what is real. It might also spark further insight as the conversation is given an opportunity to extend beyond the parameters of time constraints of commitments in the physical world.
It was with this approach that I trialled one of my first official fireside chats for this blog with Chudleigh neighbour Garry Campbell. Garry, who was, until recently, a mortuary technician, had stopped in for a burger as his wife, Kathryn, was working and so he was at a loose end – particularly as he had been out pursuing his hobby, of vigorous motorbike riding, only the day before. I was totally unaware of Garry’s career of five years. His calm, likeable demeanour gave nothing away of his confrontations with death.
Garry and his wife Kathryn at Chudleigh General Store.
I was a little embarrassed, myself, to be probing him on his experiences, feeling a touch morbid, yet intrigued by what he said had been an enjoyable career.
Garry soon put me more at ease. So it was that we came to discuss the thing that we as humans couch in euphemisms. We talked about how we, as a society, kept death hidden; whereas some cultures helped the healing and acceptance process of death by not hiding it away. The concept of the Irish wake and how, seeing a body (as he did on a day-to-day basis) laid out on a table, made it easier to understand and thereby less frightening.
As the fire cracked and popped beside us, Garry looked into its aura and we talked about the comfort of watching a fire and how it made speaking the truth somehow easier and more natural. Garry said it was a privileged, intimate experience, working with a dead client. The importance of what he was doing, in respectfully separating parts of the person’s body, to ensure an accurate determination of death by the pathologist, was never lost on him and was where his career satisfaction came from.
As we talked, Garry actually expressed appreciation for the opportunity to discuss his career. He explained at one stage that he had had to seek treatment from a psychologist because of some of the things he had had to confront. He said he was ok now, but might not have been without the opportunity to speak to someone about the provoking images he was forced to take in. He said he might never have had to seek help, if he had only had the chance to talk with people about it.
He said he now had absolutely no fear of death and while he was not a religious man, he had gained real insight and a sense of his own human spirit, through that which he had seen.
Other than the senseless suicide of children, who he felt were being desensitised to life through the internet; he had had one other very recent disturbing experience, just prior to his retirement from the job 5 months ago.
Two workers who had been constructing a house in Chudleigh, had been killed on their car journey home. Garry said he had walked past and waved to one of those people only two days before and yet there he was taking that same person apart in order to help the pathologist determine the exact cause of death. This was an extremely important role for increased knowledge to help prevent further such tragedies. It was, however, one of perhaps a dozen times where he has had contact with people in life before tending to them in death. This had been hard to process and made leaving his privileged career easier.
He is now looking forward to travelling with his wife of three years, Kathryn, around Australia. They will rent out their home and seek our new shared experiences in the quiet nooks of the world where they can marvel at the beauty of nature in all its complexity. He hopes to continue his appreciation of life with all its wonders, having a greater appreciation of it through his own unique journey and his privileged, intimate role in handling people in death.