Coffins

DURING these troubled times when the media are little more than the propaganda arm of the administration, it took courage for Howard Rosenberg to point out how easily those who aren't paying too close attention are being manipulated in the name of entertainment ("World Mayhem as a Hollywood Production," Feb. 24). I imagine he was all but buried under a barrage of callow vituperation from those who equate patriotism with fealty to a leader, however addled. So many forget that those ever-waving flags also drape nicely over coffins, and that following the whims of dictators and megalomaniacs can easily fill those coffins no matter where one happens to do the waving.

With eyes swollen from crying and voices quaking with grief and gratitude, the Russian people on Saturday buried their three newest heroes in coffins draped with the white, blue and red flag of free Russia. Clutching candles, bouquets of flowers and enormous photos of the dead men, hundreds of thousands of people--many of whom had stood with the victims in a dramatic people's resistance to last week's reactionary junta--moved solemnly through the streets of Moscow.

After solemnly reading their wills, seven perfectly healthy university students climb into caskets in a dimly lighted hall. "I want to give all of you one more day to live, but it's time to be placed into coffins," a man in a black suit says in a resounding voice. "I hope your tired flesh and bodies will be peacefully put to rest." Workers nail the coffins shut, then sprinkle dirt on top as the lights are switched off and a dirge is played. Muffled sobs can be heard from some of the coffins.

Steve Seaver was working the store alone Tuesday noon, and things were quiet. About what you'd expect in a casket and urn shop, even on an otherwise busy mid-day on Beach Boulevard. I'd dropped in to ask Seaver about the prospect of discount giants selling caskets, assuming he wouldn't be overly thrilled. Seaver was even-keeled to the point where I could see how his manner might comfort grieving customers. But sure, he said, he's not happy that discount stores might rise up as competition.

It's an idea that just won't die. Two years ago, a husband-and-wife team opened a cut-rate casket store in Santa Ana. That endeavor, unable to compete with big-name funeral homes, recently closed its doors. Along came Pete Fuller to fill the void left when Hillmark Casket Gallery went under. Fuller plans to take on the funeral industry with his own discount coffin store, Caskets Retail, which he defiantly positioned right across the street from Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Cypress.

It is the sort of window display that stops you dead in your tracks: Soft back lighting, discreet potted plants--and shiny, open coffins with names such as "Emerald Mist," "Lord's Last Supper" and "Going Home." The windows in question are on Main and 9th streets in downtown Santa Ana, where Hillmark Casket Gallery opened its doors seven weeks ago to a hail of outrage from the funeral industry.

When it came time to bury his dad, Billy Campbell wanted a plain pine box -- no frills, no satin lining, no filigree. But the only wood casket at his local mortuary was a varnished beauty of Spanish oak that would have been suitable for the leader of a small republic. The funeral director pointed out it was the same model used by Dan Blocker -- Hoss, of the old "Bonanza" television series -- but to Campbell that was cold comfort.

The coffins arrived on the same commercial airplane, US Airways Flight 29 from Philadelphia. Two grieving families, representing different generations of loss in the Iraq conflict, huddled in the fog-shrouded cargo bay outside San Francisco International Airport. On one side of a cargo zone parking lot, standing in the eerie green glow of airport halite lights, the mother of 21-year-old Marine Lance Cpl.

It was Phyllis Barrett Reusche's 24th birthday--Nov. 20, 1967--and she was feeling on top of the world. She had assessed her life and smiled in satisfaction--"I had three beautiful sons, a husband I loved, our own home. I thought to myself, 'I have everything I have ever wanted.' And I was very happy."

It was the Kennedy family that insisted that the polished bronze casket used to carry President Kennedy's body from Dallas to Washington be dumped into the ocean, according to documents released Tuesday by the National Archives. The documents showed that despite concerns over whether the casket should be destroyed, the government honored the Kennedy family wishes and took pains to ensure that the casket would remain at the bottom of the ocean.