Inside a seventh generation family business of funeral directors who in 2019 celebrated their 100th anniversary.
It was early afternoon in the summer of 2013, I was riding my bike through Islington, London, and don’t recall where I had been before, but as often I had a camera around my neck and when I spotted the two funeral directors basking in the sun outside their shop I stopped.
It wasn’t the picture that came to mind when I thought of a funeral director. The image I might have conjured up was more along the lines of the undertaker from a Lucky Luke comic, dressed in black, solemn, pale, but of course funeral directors are just people, doing a job like everyone else. I asked to take a picture, the scene somewhat idyllic, with two dogs at their feet and that was how that first image came about.
As I cycled off and long before processing the image I had taken I thought it would be interesting to return and meet the people who worked there.
Five years on I send a follow up email referencing the initial photograph I had sent, to see whether I could drop in and spend some time at the parlor, meet the people and learn something about everybody there and the business.
Brothers Pete and Andrew Miller ran the business with their sons Stuart, Mark and George who would one day take over. The business had been in the family for 99 years and was one of a shrinking number of family run funeral parlors. From day one it was Pete I reported to, Pete who took me under his wing and Pete who showed me around. Everyone else, was initially more reserved, more cautious, but over time we warmed to each other, and I got to know everyone who made up the business during that period.
There was Trevor, never short of a joke and a veteran, Steve, Syd, Terry, Little Ned, John and Lou who was by far the youngest. From February 2018 until the end of 2019, I was a regular at the shop, I would drop in every other Friday and even accompanied Pete to a public health funeral (paupers funeral). It was a sad affair at the crematorium with only a celebrant and the funeral directors paying their last respect, as the deceased was sent off.
I watched as coffins were prepared and polished, watched as flowers were installed on hearses and coffins being carried from the parlor and loaded into cars, sometimes a horse drawn hearse. One time Pete took me around the corner to witness the way the horses which, complete with horsemen and carriage, were rented for those occasions, were gotten ready outside the comedy cafe around the corner. I saw tears and grief of mourners as well as nervous laughter as they dealt with the loss of a father, mother, sibling or friend.
Towards the end of 2019 I was invited to attend the 100th anniversary of the family business, it was a grand affair attended by fellow funeral directors, priests, celebrants, morgue technicians, horsemen and of course family.
When the pandemic hit in 2020, I passed by the shop a few times, but stress levels ran high and rather than getting in the way I mostly stayed away.
By that time I had accumulated over 3000 images and reached a dead end, and while we kept in touch my visits to the shop became fewer.
Then in April 2024 I received an email from Stuart informing me that Pete, had passed after being ill for some time. The family invited me to the funeral service and in Pete’s spirit asked me to bring my camera and document his last journey. A huge crowd of family, friends and industry professionals, had assembled at St Marylebone Crematorium in North London. As the coffin was carried inside for the service, I noticed the sign that had been attached to Pete’s desk for as long as I had known him, ‘It’s A Bad Day Piss Off’ it read and reflected Pete’s outspoken personality and good humor, it had been attached to the coffin that now held him.
It was the end of his journey and our journey together; he enriched my life while he was around and I was glad to have counted him as a friend.
