These guidelines seemed simple and straightforward enough, even though a past president of the New York State Funeral Directors testified at the ftc hearing that the list was "a threat to the American way of life," and the trade organ Mortuary Management accused the FTC of "trying to force their agnostic, atheistic ways on God-fearing, traditional family-oriented America."
Despite their simplicity, it took ten years to adopt these guidelines, and constant pressure from the industry over the following decade has worn away whatever resolve the ftc had to protect funeral shoppers. Some of the requirements were dropped before the rule was ever adopted, and since 1996 funeral homes have once more been allowed to "bundle" their prices, meaning the customer pays for the whole enchilada—embalming, slumber room, mortuary chapel, hearse, flower car, family limo, and so on. Declining any of these services does not result in a lower bill, just a miffed mortician.
Funeral directors, it appears, consider death their rightful domain and yield place to no one, not even clergy, when it comes to advising the bereaved. Mitford quotes the trade publication National Funeral Service Journal, which named "religion, avarice, and a burning desire for social reform" as the industry's primary nemeses. "The minister is perhaps our most serious problem," the journal speculates, "but the one most easily solved." The clergy's chief sin lies in cautioning families about extravagant arrangement, though the growing trend toward holding funerals in churches also alarms the industry. The journal may have found it easy to outfox interfering clergy several decades ago, but they reckoned without today's Internet—and Fr. Henry Wasielewski, whose Web site (www.xroads.com/~funerals) provides exhaustive price comparisons of funerals, especially those offered by the new mortuary conglomerates that are rapidly buying up mom-and-pop funeral homes across America.
And what about the "pre-need" funeral plan I thought had grown out of the funeral-reform movement and that my parents hoped would save money as well as their children's sensibilities? As of 1997, only seven states protected buyers of these plans against default. While the corporation is collecting interest on the $15,000 my parents have already paid, it is not required to place that money in trust; morticians might simply use it to pay their operating costs during a lean year. Most states do not audit these funds.
My father's belief that "pre-need" plans are a hedge against inflation also appears doomed. Charges are routinely added to the package—for instance, fees for providing obituaries (written by the family) sent to newspapers (which do not charge for this public service). The most common and costly additions, however, occur when the mortuary claims it no longer carries the casket originally ordered. The bereaved finds herself in the very position the plan was purportedly designed to circumvent—making difficult choices while in an unsettled emotional state. No wonder the AARP has already issued a caveat to its members about purchasing such policies.






