Friday, April 07, 2000

Woman blessed with love for two careers

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BY JOHN JOHNSTON
The Cincinnati Enquirer

        Irene H. McCracken taught school for 32 years, including 25 at Dixie Heights High School.

Everyone has a story worth telling. At least, that's the theory. To test it, Tempo is throwing darts at the phone book. When a dart hits a name, a reporter dials the phone number and asks if someone in the home will be interviewed. Stories appear on Fridays.

        “Loved every day of it,” says the red-haired, 69-year-old Erlanger resident.

        And she might never have stopped, but events led her to consider a new career, one very different from teaching, one she never dreamed she'd undertake.

        Flash back to September 1952. Irene was doing what she loved — teaching — when the school principal appeared at her classroom door.

        He told her there was an emergency at Bullock Funeral Home down the street. The organist had not shown up for a service.

        The principal knew Irene played piano.

        “I'll cover for your class,” the principal said. “Please go play for this funeral.”

        She did.

        You might say a little seed was planted that day. Or maybe it had been sown years earlier when Irene was growing up, and her church often tapped her musical talent for funerals.

        Anyway, the seed grew — very slowly — even as Irene happily taught physical education, driver education and business classes at Dixie Heights.

        Twenty-nine years after filling in for the organist, Irene returned to the same funeral home to help make arrangements after her father-in-law's death. While there, she asked the funeral director if she could she spend two weeks learning how the business works. She would take that knowledge and teach it in her school's business vocational program.

        She got approval.

        A funeral fell on her third day of on-the-job training. When the organist didn't show, the funeral director said, “Irene, you've got to play.”

        She did.

        But this time around, she did more for the funeral home than just play the organ.

        She typed death certificates and watered flowers. She paid bills and helped arrange visitations. She did whatever needed doing.

        The weeks turned to months.

        “At the beginning, I considered it a volunteer job. But then it got so that I was there so much they insisted on putting me on the payroll.”

        And so for three years she worked two full-time jobs. On weekdays, Irene taught school. Nights, weekends, summer vacations and holidays she worked at the funeral home. She wasn't missed all that much at home because her two daughters were in college and her husband, Milton, was busy as a school administrator.

        “I didn't want to give up something I knew I loved (teaching), for something I thought I loved,” she says.

        Finally, she was sure. She retired from teaching in 1984, and devoted herself to funeral service. She earned her funeral director's license in 1990. She's still at the same place, now the Middendorf-Bullock Funeral Home.

        Over the years, she has done just about everything but embalming, which would have required another year of schooling. As for the people-oriented work, she didn't need much training for that.

        The most satisfying thing, she says, is helping people at a time they really need it. Many are her former students.

        “Oh, I'm so glad you're here,” they'll say. “This is so much easier.”

        Sometimes, people who are not connected to a church ask her to conduct the funeral service. On one such occasion, she traveled with a family deep into the Kentucky mountains.

        She accidentally left her prepared materials at home that day. She improvised by sharing a favorite Scripture from an old, dear friend — Adolph Rupp, the late, legendary University of Kentucky basketball coach.

        “Unto these hills I will lift up mine eyes, from whence cometh my help.” “I had 'em in tears, never intending to do that at all,” she says.

        Some days are more difficult than others.

        “Babies are the hardest,” she says. “Because they haven't lived their life. Funeral directors are human. We try not to show our emotion, but there are times you can't help it.

        “One of my driver-education students was killed in an automobile accident. That was really hard. I'm thinking, "What didn't I teach to that kid that might have saved his life?'

        “But you learn early in funeral service not to play the "what if' game. You have to assume you made all the best decisions you could at the moment, and you can't punish yourself later on.”

        Last July, Irene slowed down a bit, and went to part-time hours. But it would be hard to completely give up the job she loves. Here's one reason:

        Not long ago, a man died who lives down the street from the funeral home. As soon as the call came in, Irene didn't hesitate. She headed to the house, where the man's family had gathered.

        The moment she walked in, the man's widow turned to the others and said, “Didn't I tell you Irene would come?”

       

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