Coats funeral home tries to degrade WWII Vet
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No, I will NOT let it go!
My father died on November 14, 2009.
just 7 short years later my father a World War II Veteran, also passed on to spend eternity with my mother and had already paid in full for his funeral. This way he knew his children wouldn't have to do this and it would be easier for us to get through the day.
Coats Funeral Home in Waterford Michigan is a very nice and well kept funeral home and for the most part the people who run things are very nice and show much compassion for your loved one. But when it comes to being sneaky the woman Pam Mcfagan was pushy, rude and didn't so much as have a guest booK, and only a hand full of cards for guests.
My mother was treated fairly and with dignity, but now I know, it was because of the crowd. With my father, they didn't have this crowd, so they didn't think word would spread about their behavior.
WELL, HERE IT IS! I'M SPREADING IT, AND I WILL NOT LET IT GO!
My father, 87yr old WWII Vet was going to be pushed through there as if he didn't matter because there wasn't but 6 people at his funeral. When Ms. McFagan excused herself for a second she lied that she had to look something up when in fact she had left the room to make a call to someone who asked to be alerted when he passed, his daughter who didn't want to attend her fathers funeral. If fact, she didn't deserve to know since she said to his face she was not going to attend his funeral. Other than my mothers death it was the only time i ever seen my dad cry, it hurt him that his daughter would say such a thing. I'm glad I stood by my father and cared for him in his last days, even when he asked for her I had to tell him it would do no good she already made her choice that she wanted nothing to do with Any of us and would not come unless it suited her own feelings, which is what she did.
Because my mother was a cosmotologist by trade, she had many friends, clients. Her and dad attended church regularly so of course people from there came to hers but didn't come and pay him any visits after she passed, not even his sisters made the effort to come. The funeral homes pastor was the one who gave him their version of a very generic eulogy for my mom.
My dad on the other hand, trusted very few people, and he did not make it a point to make many friends in life. He'd said often, that if you make one true friend in life, you've done well. That he'd only met one man in his life that he'd trust with a suitcase full of money! He'd told me this man he felt confident he could leave him with a suit case of money then be gone a year and every cent would be there when he returned for it. He was right about so many things.
But this hub isn't about that per se, it's about how he was treated, after he'd fought for this country during WWII and witnessed hell on earth, and some might believe he came out of that war unscathed, but they are wrong. He still fought that battle til the day he began to lose his memory due to dementia.
While my mom lay dying in a coma in 2002, dad went to Coats Funeral home to make their arrangements. He paid in full everything from their account. Because mom's funeral held so many people, she was given a full treatment that any person should deserve, but when it was my fathers day at that funeral home, they shortchanged him every way they could. Right down to under folding his suit rather than having me return it for the correct size.
The woman who ran the funeral was crass and rude and if I. Our stop one family from enduring what I went through with them I would. She took advantage of my pain and used it to her advantage. I'm also sure she pocketed any money as there was not so much as a card or flowers from either of his living sisters. No acknowledgement whatsoever all due to his middle daughter.
As my friend walked with me into the large room, room without flowers or people, I had a few items that I wanted to put with dad to rest with him. One of those things being his wallet. No, I didn't put a large sum of money in it, I left it just as he had when mom died. He'd taken all the photos out of it, and other things. But he still carried it around with him. I put a dollar in it, because he always joked he couldn't have enough money. He did have money but it had been stolen by the two people he trusted the most. What he left me was gone for biker parties, dates, booze and trinkets. I only for the empty box.
- We stood there over dad, and I held his wallet, I was going to slide it as close to his back pocket as I could, when she (the funeral director) snatched it out of my hands, and tried to tuck it under HIS HANDS! *She was quick to grab, and try to push the "show" on, so they could get us out of their way. I just had to tell her I wanted to be alone with my friend for a minute. So the funeral director left the room. Not that she was invited in anyway! But my friend and I finally were there alone with dad. She agreed we could gently tuck it by his side, so that's what I did. That's when I found his pants had been tucked under him.
Then dad had a hat he loved, a golfers cap. My son had bought it for himself, but dad took a liking to it and sort of made it his own. He wore it til the day he died. It too was going to be buried along with him. The problem was, it just didn't match dad's suit I'd bought him. Also the funeral home was careless and had gotten make up on the sleeve of his suit. My friend proped it over his arm in a nice way, making it look as if he were standing he could be holding it, and it covered the make up stain the funeral home had left on the arm of the suit jacket. I can never be thankful enough for my dear friend who stood with me, and my friends who came to be with me. They were and are my true family.
My son had bought him two tiny tractors, while he was on the road, (he's a truck driver) and they sat on dad's dresser, so we decided to tuck them in as well. We tucked them under the side of the pillow, I guess so we'd have the feeling we sent some of the "country" my dad knew so well with him.
He looked nice, although I believe they put too much rouge on him. Dad was never the dress up kinda guy, he was totally a manly man! He was quite pale all his life. Good color for him as he was fair, with blonde hair blue eyes as a child, that changed darker over the years.
- When it came time for us to leave, there were only going to be 3 cars behind the hearse. This lady funeral director came to me and said that we'd not have the flags, because this was so small, so we'd have to obey all traffic signals and such.
- That was a slap in the face. The bill had been paid, they got their money now they just wanted this OVER so they could have the rest of their day off. I guess one can't expect a funeral director to have much compassion as death since death and dying are their business. But why is it that they give much respect to those with larger funerals, and no respect to those of smaller funeral turn outs.
- It's not a popularity contest after all now is it? Or, is it? (Apparently at Coats it is).
I would not hold my tongue. No! My father who fought for this country, America, and served his time and was given an Honerable Discharge was not going to be short changed by this rude woman! I told her, yes, you're going to give my father the same respect that any one else would get regardless of the people who showed up or not. One person or 1,000, he would get the flags, and we'd have the same respect on route to the cemetery that everyone else got.
She didn't like it, and I saw the frowns upon their faces, and WHY was everyone in such a hurry? Why didn't he matter? His life insurance paid the same price as was due. I actually think he was charged twice for the digging of the grave, but I just couldn't argue that point that day. They know family is distraught, so they took advantage of that. But I still insisted on the flags for the cars, and we made our way to the cemetery. Upon arriving at the cemetery, things were of the norm.
A strange pastor, one of their choosing gave a passe' eulogy, saying really nothing about what my dad's life was about or like. He did not know my father, never asked any questions to what kind of person he was, nothing. It didn't matter, I don't even remember what he said.
What point I really want to make known is, PLEASE, DO NOT USE
COATS FUNERAL HOME IN MICHIGAN, BECAUSE THIS IS HOW WE WERE TREATED, UNFAIRLY TO A WWII VET, A MAN WHO FOUGHT FOR THIS COUNTRY, AND THEY TRIED TO STRIP HIM OF WHAT HE DESERVED IN A FUNERAL.
I know some will think "just get over it," but no, that's not going to be the case. I will NEVER GET OVER HOW RUDELY THEY TREATED MY FATHER, MY SON AND MYSELF.
Funerals, the reminder of, the dreaded day.
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Coats Funeral Home in Waterford Michigan
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