The Funeral Director's Son
Chapter 1
Campbell and SonsThere are only two styles of portrait painting; the serious and the smirk...
-- Charles Dickens, Nicholas Nickleby
I spend a lot of time thinking about f-words.
Food. Friends. Fun.
And funerals.
That's right, funerals. Our family runs Campbell and Sons Funeral Home. We live upstairs from the business. Family on the second floor. Funerals on the first. Frankenstein stuff in the basement. When you kick it in Clover, my home is your home. You're welcome anytime. Every day that ends in y. Morning, noon, or night.
It's been that way since 1875. Ever since my great-great-great-great-grandfather Christopher Adams Campbell had the fishbrain idea to start a funeral business. He was a carpenter, the only one in town, and I guess he was building so many caskets, he figured he might as well bury them too.
I wish the old Pilgrim could have picked a better product. Potato chips or bubble gum or chicken soup or something. But that's spit off Clo ... read full excerpt from The Funeral Director's Son ebook