For one immigrant, funeral business was a way out of the mines. The faces in the old photo are serious. Wearing black coats and somber faces, these men offer a stark contrast to the women in white gathered on the South Bethlehem sidewalk.
The open hearse with casket tells the story of death. From the windows the shawl-draped figures mourn the passing of a loved one. The loss and the pain on the faces is clear. It's the turn of the century. Industry, built by the hands and backs of these ethnic Europeans that look back at us, has transformed the nation. But a price had to be paid. It came in the form of long hours, crippling illness and sometimes death.
The grim reaper was not an unfamiliar figure in their lives. These immigrants had seen his shadow all too often in the Old Country. And their lot in America was not always much better. In the mines or factories, a death with dignity was usually denied. But a decent funeral was one way to grab back some of their humanity. And that's where the man at far right came in. With his shiny top hat, frock coat and wing collar, the funeral director, or undertaker as they said then, represented dignity and respectability. And for the ethnic people of South Bethlehem, the man who filled this role was a talkative Irishman named Joseph F. Kinney. It is his business that, under the name of Downing Funeral Homes, recently marked its 100th anniversary.