[ad_1]
CENTERBROOK, CONN. – Joe Heller always wanted to have the last laugh.
Thus, at his death, on September 8, at the age of 82, his daughter, Monique Heller, sought to provide it by writing in the local newspaper a paid obituary describing the irreverent and absurd personality of his father.
His humorous tribute was published – online and print – in The Hartford Courant last week and immediately caught fire in digital.
Readers loved the catchy tale of this small town, Everyman, who embodied the united nature of this hamlet near the Connecticut River, between New Haven and New London.
Obituary enumerates achievements such as being an "accomplished consumer" and a regular browser of collectibles at the local garbage dump.
"There was no street, restaurant or friend's house in Essex where he had not fallen asleep," wrote Heller, adding that her father "had left his family with a house full of shit, 300 pounds of bird seeds and dead indoor plants which they have no idea what to do."
Mrs. Heller wrote that her father had warned her against a mad expulsion upon her death, preferring that her family "dig a hole in the yard and let it in".
He said, "I do not want anything like that in the funeral home," she said, using a different word of color.
They disappointed him with a festive memorial Thursday night at the city's fire station, where everyone told stories to Joe Heller. Obituaries implored participants to wear "the most inappropriate t-shirt with which you are comfortable in public, as Joe often did".
On Friday morning, Mr. Heller's body, in a coffin draped with an American flag, was placed on the 1941 Mack A fire truck that he helped restore and take to Centerbrook Cemetery where he was buried next to his wife, Irene, who died in 2015, and that he bothered every day "with his mouth and his choice of clothing, "according to the obituary.
Family members followed the fire truck into the perfectly restored 1932 Plymouth Roadster with, according to his request, a series of plastic testicles hanging from the rear bumper.
Mr. Heller's obit has been widely shared on social media, first locally among his many friends in the city, then around the world, which has led to the publication of articles in many media.
Ms. Heller said Friday, "My friend told me that my obit had created a new category called Joe-bituaries. She said, "You just put the fun in the funeral."
Many paid obituaries are often brief and deplorable catalogs of survivors and information about the funeral, but Ms. Heller's testimony was a quick and shameless interpretation of her father as a great jester in Middlesex County, Connecticut.
"God broke the mold after Joe's birth," she wrote.
Mrs. Heller, the youngest of Mr. Heller's three daughters, recalled his father's doctor who had approached them at the end of Mr. Heller's life and told them he was "a man very sick".
Their humorous response: "You have no idea."
The obit chronicled Mr. Heller's insidious insights and his incessant pranks, ranging from a cake filled with laxatives to friends who stole his lunch to give his dogs badly colored names (to make their dogs blush). close by calling the animal).
"I wrote the obit for his local friends and friends and I did not think it would go any further, but I guess it sounds with people," Ms. Heller said, adding that comments and suggestions condolences had been received "from the 50 states". as well as in several countries, including up to Australia and New Zealand.
"I am grateful to the universe that this love message has become viral," wrote Dawn from Canada.
"It looks like he's an amazing guy," wrote John Williams of London.
"Good old Joe could have been my relative – lol," wrote Bruce Freshwater of Pittsburgh.
As a young man, Mr. Heller worked as a library assistant at the Yale Law School Library before joining the Navy. Having no money for college, he managed to get a job as a self-taught chemist in a local makeup company, where he developed his first cosmetics ranges.
When the company moved to Greenwich, Connecticut, Mr. Heller decided that the new city would be too rich for his blood and he decided to give up his job to stay at Centerbrook, among friends of the working class that he cherished, Mrs. Heller. I said.
"He was proud to be a blue-collar and was not part of Essex's old or new money," she said of the Municipality that includes Centerbrook and has affluent neighborhoods and a wealthy summer quota with yachts and second homes.
Mrs. Heller's obituary indicated that her father considered many of these people as "blue bloods, snoots, and summer barnacles walking around the city."
Mr. Heller was also proud to be a local official, as a longtime member of the Essex Volunteer Fire Department and founder of the local ambulances corps.
He has also held a variety of positions: City Constable, Snow Plow Operator, Bridge Guard and Dog Catcher, she said.
"He had these jobs because he was the man of trust in the city," Ms. Heller said. "When the city needs to do something, they just call Joe."
As a dogcatcher, he adapted the wording of his truck to read "Dawg Kecher", and he steadfastly refused to follow local guidelines requiring the euthanasia of certain dogs.
Ms. Heller said her father raised her daughters in a TV character scheme like Archie Bunker and Benny Hill.
When young men were looking for an appointment with his daughters, Mr. Heller first checked their license plates and checked the safety of their vehicles, including an inspection of the condition of their tires. .
When the suitors entered the house, he made sure to clean one of his weapons and that his collection of shotguns and harpoons was clearly exposed, Heller said.
On Friday morning, a Navy Honor Guard – long known as the Veterans 'Organization (veterans' organization) because of his seniority, made a rifle salute, played taps, and performed a ceremonial ceremony. folding the flag.
The guard of honor, Joseph Barry, admitted that Mr. Heller "dropped some F bombs" by declaring the thing superfluous.
After the funeral, Mrs. Heller waved the American flag in honor of her father and said that the obit may have struck a chord with ordinary people.
"People like my father are the backbone of this country," she said, "and I think the world wants to hear their stories."
[ad_2]
Source link