Interesting obituaries

We had a similar thread on the AO that I found interesting. Opening this one with an obit I came across today.

Summary

Renay Mandel Corren

El Paso, TX—A plus-sized Jewish lady redneck died in El Paso on Saturday.

Of itself hardly news, or good news if you’re the type that subscribes to the notion that anybody not named you dying in El Paso, Texas is good news. In which case have I got news for you: the bawdy, fertile, redheaded matriarch of a sprawling Jewish-Mexican-Redneck American family has kicked it. This was not good news to Renay Mandel Corren’s many surviving children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, many of whom she even knew and, in her own way, loved. There will be much mourning in the many glamorous locales she went bankrupt in: McKeesport, PA, Renay’s birthplace and where she first fell in love with ham, and atheism; Fayetteville and Kill Devil Hills, NC, where Renay’s dreams, credit rating and marriage are all buried; and of course Miami, FL, where Renay’s parents, uncles, aunts, and eternal hopes of all Miami Dolphins fans everywhere, are all buried pretty deep. Renay was preceded in death by Don Shula.

Because she was my mother, the death of zaftig good-time gal Renay Corren at the impossible old age of 84 is newsworthy to me, and I treat it with the same respect and reverence she had for, well, nothing. A more disrespectful, trash-reading, talking and watching woman in NC, FL or TX was not to be found. Hers was an itinerant, much-lived life, a Yankee Florida liberal Jewish Tough Gal who bowled 'em in Japan, rolled 'em in North Carolina and was a singularly unique parent. Often frustrated by the stifling, conservative culture of the South, Renay turned her voracious mind to the home front, becoming a model stay at home parent, a supermom, really, just the perfect PTA lady, volunteer, amateur baker and-AHHAHAA HA! HA! HA! Just kidding, y’all! Renay - Rosie to her friends, and this was a broad who never met a stranger - worked double shifts with Doreen, ate a ton of carbs with Bernie, and could occasionally be stirred to stew some stuffed cabbage for the kids. She played cards like a shark, bowled and played cribbage like a pro, and laughed with the boys until the wee hours, long after the last pin dropped. At one point in the 1980’s, Renay was the 11th or 12th-ranked woman in cribbage in America, and while that could be a lie, it sounds great in print. She also told us she came up with the name for Sunoco, and I choose to believe this, too. Yes, Renay lied a lot. But on the plus side, Renay didn’t cook, she didn’t clean, and she was lousy with money, too. Here’s what Renay was great at: dyeing her red roots, weekly manicures, dirty jokes, pier fishing, rolling joints and buying dirty magazines. She said she read them for the articles, but filthy free speech was really Renay’s thing. Hers was a bawdy, rowdy life lived large, broke and loud. We thought Renay could not be killed. God knows, people tried. A lot. Renay has been toying with death for a decades, but always beating it and running off in her silver Chevy Nova. Covid couldn’t kill Renay. Neither could pneumonia twice, infections, blood clots, bad feet, breast cancer twice, two mastectomies, two recessions, multiple bankruptcies, marriage to a philandering Sergeant Major, divorce in the 70’s, six kids, one cesarean, a few abortions from the Quietly Famous Abortionist of Spring Lake, NC or an affair with Larry King in the 60’s. Renay was preceded in death by her ex-boyfriend, Larry King. Renay was also sadly preceded in death by her beloved daughter, Cathy Sue Corren Lester Trammel Webster, of Kill Devil Hills, NC, who herself was preceded in death by two marriages, a fudge shop and one eyeball lost in a near-fatal Pepsi bottle incident that will absolutely be explored in future obituaries. Losing her 1-eyed badass b**** of a daughter in 2007 devastated Renay, but it also made her quite homeless, since Cathy pretty much picked up the tab. A talented and gregarious grifter, Renay M. Corren eked out her final years of luxury (she literally retired at 62) under the care, compassion, checking accounts and, evidently, unlimited patience of her favorite son and daughter-in-law, Michael and Lourdes Corren, of world-famous cow sanctuary El Paso, TX. Renay is also survived by her son Jeffrey Corren and his endlessly tolerant wife Shirley, of Powell’s Point, NC; Scott Corren, and what’s left of his colon, of Hampton, VA; Marc and Laura Corren, the loveliest dirt farmers of Vernon, TX (seriously, where is that); and her favorite son, the gay one who writes catty obituaries in his spare time, Andy Corren, of - obviously - New York City. Plus two beloved granddogs, Mia and Hudson. Renay was particularly close to and grateful for the lavish attentions of her grandaughter Perla and her great-grandchildren Elijah and Leroy, as well as her constant cruise companions Sam Trammell of Greenville, NC, and Adam Corren of El Paso, TX. Renay took tremendous pride in making 1 gay son and 2 gay grandchildren, Sam Trammell and Adam Corren.

There will be a very disrespectful and totally non-denominational memorial on May 10, 2022, most likely at a bowling alley in Fayetteville, NC. The family requests absolutely zero privacy or propriety, none what so ever, and in fact encourages you to spend some government money today on a 1-armed bandit, at the blackjack table or on a cheap cruise to find our inheritance. She spent it all, folks. She left me nothing but these lousy memories. Which I, and my family of 5 brothers and my sister-in-laws, nephews, friends, nieces, neighbors, ex-boyfriends, Larry King’s children, who I guess I might be one of, the total strangers who all, to a person, loved and will cherish her. Forever. Please think of the brightly-frocked, frivolous, funny and smart Jewish redhead who is about to grift you, tell you a filthy joke, and for Larry King’s sake: LAUGH. Bye, Mommy. We loved you to bits.

RIP RENAY MANDEL CORREN 10 MAY 1937 - 11 DEC 2021

Posted online on December 15, 2021

Published in The Fayetteville Observer, Funerals Today

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There’s an interview with the (I think?) son, where he talks about it.

A very Catholic obituary (and funny… )

I will give the intro and hide the rest…

Richard A. “Dick” Ruth

June 13, 1924 — August 20, 2024

Johnstown, Pennsylvania

Richard A. “Dick” Ruth

RUTH—Richard A. “Dick,” 100, Geistown, croaked on August 20, 2024. Dick’s soul did not go shooting straight up to Heaven like everybody else’s does, but made a detour to Purgatory where he will remain until he is purified enough to stand before his all-perfect maker. Born June 13, 1924, on the feast day of St. Anthony, to whom he had a life-long devotion because of the many favors he received through his intercession.

it goes on for a bit -- he requests smoking friends to quit smoking for a day in lieu of flowers

He was born to Leo and Florence (Karr) Ruth. Preceded in death by great-great-grandparents; parents; wife, Dorothy (Kokoruda), brothers, Bob, Bill and John and sisters, Mary Dolores Vaught and Barbara Ann Boxler and her husband, James. Survived by brother, Paul and numerous nieces and nephews. He had the unique distinction of marrying for the first time on his 65th birthday. (Search the Business Book of Records to top that one.) Dick had a lot of self-respect after he realized his wife Dorothy waited for 50 years for that perfect man to come along and she settled for him. He failed miserably in his youthful dream to fill his “uncle” Babe Ruth’s baseball shoes. He was the proud eccentric life-long driver for 44 years of old, big used cars until he finally broke down and bought a new one. Well known for his German thriftiness (or if you wish, his Teutonic miserliness). Not for the money he hoarded, but for the things he saved. Actually, Dick was one of the few Catholics who tithed, and in later years, sometimes he double tithed. Benevolent grower of tulips and daffodils. Dick, who was influenced by the well-kept graves he saw in the cemeteries of Germany, worked hard through the years to keep the graves of his beloved dead well adorned with tulips in the spring, and summer flowers throughout the rest of the growing season. He hated violence and sex on TV, hence, he watched little or no TV. Ace trouble shooter and number on pneumatical engineer for the former GTE Telephone Company. Self-appointed and self-acclaimed defender of the faith. Faithful, active member of the Cursillo movement since 1976. Auxiliary member of the Legion of Mary. Strong opponent of abortion and pornography. Ardent crusader against cigarette smoking. He was quick to point out that he outlived many of his smoking contemporaries. He was a frequent contributor to the “Readers Forum” of the Tribune-Democrat and “Letters to the Editor” of the Catholic Register. Co-founder and faithful member of St. Benedict’s Pro-Life prayer group since 1979. In-active, card-carrying member of the Knights of Columbus, like so many of his brother Knights. Feeble evangelizer of Jesus Christ. Faithful member of the St. Benedict Choir from 1959 until 1995 when he got too old to “cut the mustard.” He rated himself among the top 20 singers in the St. Benedict Parish, a view shared by almost no one. Well known for his heart-felt rendition of “Danny Boy” which he plans to sing at his own funeral, in spite of the fact that his voice has deteriorated. Dick was survived by neither a cat nor a dog. However, he was survived by a colony of squirrels and also by chipmunks who saw fit to claim his premises as their domain. Dick and Dorothy had no children and surprisingly enough, no grandchildren. But they had this consolation: none of their children or grandchildren are going to Hell! Not everyone can say this with such certainty. Dick was an eccentric, counter-cultural person. He had no interest in what the culture was interested in. His main interest Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church (in spite of its many shortcomings), and the scripture. He also had a great love for poetry and the psalms. It would take him over an hour to recite the poems and psalms he had memorized. As stated by Dick, “To those who view my mortal remains, know thee this: I really was not this handsome while alive. It just goes to show you that Bill Harris and his staff know how to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” This obituary was crafted and written by Dick himself over the last 25 years. He proudly wrote it and revised it over the years so that it stated exactly what he wanted to it to say. The family will receive friends from 8:30 a.m. until 9:30 a.m. Saturday, August 31, 2024, at Harris Funeral Home, 500 Cherry Lane, Richland followed by Funeral Mass at 10 a.m. Saturday, August 31, 2024 at St. Benedict Catholic Church, Fr. David S. Peles Pastor officiating. Entombment, St. Joseph Cemetery Mausoleum under the mosaic of St. Joseph, the patron saint of a happy death, and under whose watchful protection his remains will lie until doomsday. In lieu of flowers, Dick requests that all his smoking friends (few though they may be) stop smoking for one day in his memory. Online condolences may be posted at www.wharrisfuneralhome.com

literally a dying breed, those Richards who go by Dick

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Again, he was 100 years old.

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Well, it was claimed that he was over 100 years old, at least.

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