How would you like to be remembered at your funeral or memorial service? Perhaps you don't care although that's hard to believe. Would you care if the officiating person even mentions your name or anything about a few personal accomplishments or family relationships? As an emloyee of a funeral home following retirement from the United Methodist Church, the author witnessed numerous funeral services led by various clergy persons of different faith groups. Some services were well thought out and brought hope and healing to surviving persons. However, a number of those services indicated the opposite--services that were lethargic and impersonal by officiants who hardly mentioned a word about the deceased person including their name. It was almost as though the deceased person barely entered or exited their life's journey without any impact. The title of the book comes from some of those reflections while employed at the funeral home. The first part of the book provides some insights about funeral services, reflections on grief practices and cultural mores, and the raising of several issues that challenge a sometimes impersonal, pernicious, and apathethic clergy as to how grief ministry is provided. The book also provides several examples of outstanding clergy care and pastoral support during times of mourning. The second part of the book contains a few humorous thoughts on several practical issues that he has encountered. The book concludes with thoughts about the nomadic and traveling lifestyle that he and his wife have enjoyed for the last six years.

The players of the independent Carolina League were outlaws. A diverse lot that included preachers and ex-cons, with many former and future Major Leaguers, they played ball during the desperate years of the Great Depression, when half of organized professional baseball's minor leagues went broke and ceased operations. Despite the number of defaulting leagues and teams, the players were held to their prior contracts, and many found themselves unemployed, unable to play without violating the reserve clause that bound them to their previous club. The threat of being blackballed by organized baseball notwithstanding, hundreds of players went to bat for the independent Carolina League, and their stories offer unique glimpses into the pastime's--and America's--most difficult years. This follow-up to the immensely popular and award-winning The Independent Carolina Baseball League, 1936-1938 (McFarland, 1999) takes the story of outlaw baseball into extra innings, offering a wealth of previously unpublished interviews with the key players and personnel associated with the league. With outstanding coverage of nearly 20 players, including the notorious Edwin Collins "Alabama" Pitts and well-known Lawrence Columbus "Crash" Davis, this book also offers the unique perspectives of umpires, journalists and players' wives. Appendices include a Pitts family history, the Kannapolis Towelers team record book, player records, and the history of the Carolina Victory League.

A collection of memorial tributes, poetry, essays, and letters of condolence.

Reprint of the original, first published in 1872. The publishing house Anatiposi publishes historical books as reprints. Due to their age, these books may have missing pages or inferior quality. Our aim is to preserve these books and make them available to the public so that they do not get lost.

In January, 1914, Francis Athelstan Sherbrand, Viscount Norwater, only son of that fine old warrior, General the Right Honourable Roger Sherbrand, V.C., K.C.B., first Earl of Mitchelborough, married Margot Mountjohn, otherwise known as "Kittums," and found that she was wonderfully innocent-for a girl who knew so much. It was a genuine love-match, Franky being a comparatively poor Guardsman, with only two thousand a year in addition to his pay as a Second Lieutenant in the Royal Bearskins Plain, and Margot a mere Cinderella in comparison with heiresses of the American canned-provision and cereal kind. It had seemed to Franky, standing with patent-leathered feet at the Rubicon dividing bachelorhood from Benedictism, that all his wooing had been done at Margot's Club. True, he had actually proposed to Margot at the Royal Naval and Military Tournament of the previous June, and Margot, hysterical with sheer ecstasy, as the horses gravely played at push-ball, had pinched his arm and gasped out: "Yes, but don't take my mind off the game just now; these dear beasts are so heavenly! ..."