Christmas in Zombieland

Last week it came to me that I should recount for you all the circumstances of our first Christmas as husband and wife – 36 years ago now.

Reading between the lines of the last post, you might have guessed that our job is demanding and challenging. As ‘resident’ managers, we’re always on call – even on our one day off. But this isn’t the first time we’ve had a job like this one – but last time, the ‘tenants’ were a lot less trouble.

I can’t remember how Rick heard about the employment opportunity – probably through Student Job Placement at Butte College. Hall-Van Hook Funeral Chapel in Chico was hiring ‘night’ managers. I can’t remember all that was in the ad, but they were looking for a couple to live on the premises and help out after normal business hours – some duties were what you would expect: janitorial services and property security were a given. But, the responsibilities of managing a funeral home are – shall we say – unique.

We learned we were the successful candidates the second week in December, 1973. We had only been married a few months and had been residing in Rick’s old stomping grounds – the huge metropolis of Princeton, California. At least our mailing address was Princeton. I hardly think ‘third rice field on the left past the corner of Road P’ qualifies as an address. Any way, when we learned of the advantages – housing, utilities and $100/month salary provided in exchange for our duties - we gladly exchanged our $100-per-month-three-bedroom-house-in-the-country for the small apartment above the Chapel near downtown Chico.

During the interview and actual orientation/training process we learned more about our new job: We were actually job-sharing with another college couple. As the senior managers, ‘Dan’ and ‘Pam’ lived across the hall from us in the luxury suite. Their apartment was spacious and comfortable – hardwood floors - in fact, there was wood everywhere – a really lovely and well-kept building in general. In fact, they already had their Christmas tree up and it was stunning.!

We were to rotate the duty schedule – we would be on-call every other night and every other weekend. Our ‘work’ day began at 5 p.m. when the chapel business office closed for the evening. After hours, we answered the phone, greeted guests who came for a visitation or the occasional evening funeral service, and did routine janitorial chores. If memorial folders needed to be printed for the next day’s services, we did that too – on an old off-set press where we actually had to set the type and print them one at a time, by hand. Even when vacuuming and cleaning the toilets, Rick had to be dressed up in a suit and tie, in case he got a call and had to fulfill the priority of his job description – helping the funeral director collect the deceased and assist with the actual embalming of the remains.

Nights we were on call, the phone would often ring after we went to sleep. No matter how groggy he might have felt, Rick would answer in his best professional voice, ‘Hall Van-Hook Funeral Chapel.’ The call rang at the funeral director’s residence too. He never answered the call – that was Rick’s job – but if he was on call too, the funeral director – Ric, short for Fredrick, was usually listening in to get the details for the pick up. Rick would have to then get up, quickly dress in his suit and tie, and hurry downstairs to get the hearse warmed up. Ric would soon arrive to meet him, and they would drive together to the hospital, rest home or private residence to retrieve the body and transport it back to the chapel. They would then immediately set to work on the embalming. Sometimes it was daybreak or later when Rick would come back to the apartment. If he didn’t have class he’d come back to bed, if he did, he might have to go right to school. As I recall we were on duty until 8 a.m., so he’d have to hustle to catch the bus – a 30 minute trip to campus from Chico.
So, there we were, in a new-and-demanding job, just days before our first ‘married’ Christmas. Both our families lived close, and both were looking forward to having us spend time with them for the holidays. But Christmas fell on the weekend that year – Dan and Pam’s weekend off – so we were trapped. We couldn’t really leave the building. I couldn’t even go to the store. If Rick was called out, I had to be there to answer the phones in his absence. On our weekends on call, we couldn’t even go to church. We were sequestered from 5 p.m. Friday until 8 a.m. Monday morning.

And since Dan and Pam’s families both lived in the Bay area, and since as students, they were on a break from their classes at Chico State, we offered to work both Christmas and New Year’s weekends for them. I believe we took all their night calls for the week as well. It was business-as-usual in the Chapel office, so we could go out during the day to get shopping done, etc.

Anyway, since they wouldn’t be around, our co workers offered us the use of their spacious apartment while they were gone. I don’t think we slept in their bed, but we did enjoy their beautifully-decorated Christmas tree. We sat in front of it for hours every evening – Rick in his suit and tie - playing board games – particularly Aggravation – and Rick won game after game after game – until I thought that would be our first and ONLY Christmas together as I would divorce him after his unprecedented (and aggravating) winning streak.

And, you know, I think, the job was kind of off-putting to our families. We lived within thirty miles of both of them. We didn’t even receive a phone call from any of them – let alone a Christmas visit.

At 5 p.m. Christmas Eve, we did get an unexpected surprise from our boss – a $10 Christmas Bonus – and we’d only been with the company two weeks! What a great job this was going to be!

Remarkably, the ‘house’ was quiet and empty for the week – not a single night call either. We were adjusting to our new situation nicely, despite the demands and unusual duties. As Christian believers, we were Biblically taught regarding life AND death. When the soul departs the body, it is clearly just a shell – an empty vessel.

However, we always kept the door leading down the back stairs into the Chapel locked and bolted – just in case!

Merry Christmas from Zombieland!