Everyone has a story.
Each week, the Shreveport-Bossier Journal’s Tony Taglavore takes to lunch a local person–someone who is well-known, influential, or successful, and asks, “What’s Your Story?”
By TONY TAGLAVORE, Journal Services
It’s not surprising Andy Shehee remembers the year (1991) and the day of the week (Tuesday).
You would, too, if one of your funeral homes came within an “How Great Thou Art” of burying the wrong dearly departed family member. Times two.
“A daughter in Minden told our funeral director, ‘That’s not our Daddy.’
He said, ‘Now honey, our excellent embalming techniques and methods can often make a person look younger.’ She said, ‘That’s not my Daddy’ . . . . In Bossier, the family had their visitation and funeral, and did not know that was not their daddy. We had to explain to them what happened. They were kind of confused and some of them got a little angry. But some of them may have been embarrassed because they didn’t know that wasn’t their daddy, or their grandfather as the case may be. We made the change. We brought the correct father from Minden. We didn’t charge either family for their funerals.”
Fortunately for Shehee, that hasn’t happened since. But the well-known, well-respected executive director of Rose-Neath Funeral Homes has seen a lot during his almost 40 year career. Shehee told me stories, and his story, over a meal at Strawn’s Eat Shop Too in Shreveport. Andy had eggs and bacon, while I took down a hamburger and fries.
Andy has built his livelihood by way of an interesting dynamic — death.
“No, but I wonder about it sometimes,” Andy said, when I asked if he ever feels guilty taking money from people during their time of grief. “If we get four nice caskets in on a shipment, you go, ‘Oh, this is pretty good.’ It’s a business. I am hoping our numbers will hold up this year, which means people are going to have to pass away for us to achieve that goal. But you also realize those numbers are inevitable.”
Born in Washington, D.C. Shehee grew up in what was then rural southwest Shreveport. Son of the late, prominent community leader Virginia Shehee, Andy didn’t grow up around death, but rather, chickens.
“That’s where I got my interest in agriculture. I began raising chickens when I was five years old . . . . (My sisters) had to feed the horses, and I had to feed the chickens before school. Oftentimes, it was still dark and very cold, but you learned how to do that.”
Shehee’s grandparents co-founded Kilpatrick Life Insurance Company in 1932. Around the same time, Shehee’s mother and stepfather began Rose-Neath Funeral Homes. By the time Andy reached school age, both businesses were doing well, allowing a country boy to attend an in-city private school.
“I was actually a little embarrassed because a lot of my friends grew up in big homes along Fairfield Avenue and Thora Boulevard. But I soon found out they loved coming out to the country because we had a big, huge, Olympic-size swimming pool. We had all the animals. We had an eight-acre pond, and people loved to fish on it.”
When it was time for high school, Shehee was hit with a bit of a culture shock. He went to C.E. Byrd, a public school, and excelled as an athlete.
“It was a big change. Byrd was integrated my sophomore year. I ran track. 70 percent of the team was black, and the coach was black. Several of the football coaches and other coaches were also African-American. But back then, there were no problems because discipline was important. If you did something wrong, you were punished.”
Like the time Andy inadvertently broke his coach’s rule about being addressed as ‘Sir.’
“One time we were practicing baton drill handoffs. I got flustered. He was giving me some technique instructions, and I said, ‘I can do it man.’ He said, ‘What did you say?’ I went ‘Uh-Oh I can do it, Sir. I meant to say Sir’ . . . . I had to do 100 sit-ups as punishment.”
Considering Andy’s mother and grandmother graduated from Centenary, “it was a logical place to attend college.” Not only did Shehee — who majored in sociology, as did his mom — go to school at the private, liberal arts college, he worked there almost six years, helping recruit students and, in his last role, raising scholarship money.
“I wasn’t really comfortable with the scholarship development, because as my mother said, ‘You’ve gone from selling the school, to begging . . . . “It had run its course, and I had the opportunity to go back to the funeral profession, so I did that.”
Andy estimates he has been involved, directly or indirectly, with some 15,000 funeral services since 1968. He doesn’t deny the fact the funeral home business is just that — a business. But Andy says that doesn’t mean you have to take advantage of someone at their most vulnerable moment. For example, there was the time Andy was in the casket room with the widow of a prominent Centenary professor. She was trying to decide between “a beautiful, solid copper casket”, and an 18-gauge steel, medium (price) range casket.
“She said, ‘Andy, what’s the difference between these two?’ I could have struck.
(I could have said) ‘Ma’am, this is a wonderful copper casket. With your husband’s prestige at Centenary, this would be very befitting of him. Then my conscience kicked in, and I said, ‘Ma’am, the difference is about $2,000.’ She took the 18-gauge steel — not the copper.”
So, it’s not always about the money. Sometimes, it’s about the challenge. Andy likes challenges, which he thinks stems from his athletic days.
“We had a lady who was, sadly, way overweight. The family wanted a solid pink casket. I had a window of four days. We got it done. She got that solid pink casket, with a white floral interior, just like she wanted. We try to take care of people like that. Now, we got paid for it, but we still performed a service.”
According to ourworldindata.org, 61 million people worldwide died last year. So, I began to feel guilty, as surely Andy was needed to help ease the pain of a family in mourning. So, I asked Andy my final question. As always, what is it about his story that could be influential to others?
“Have respect for others. Show objectivity in your decision-making, and your business relationships with others. I had a man tell me one time that it doesn’t cost you anything to be nice to people. I’ve always tried to practice that in my dealings with people.”
People alive, and dead.
Do you know someone who has a story to tell? Email SBJTonyT@gmail.com