Following the publication of my article on Leadership Transition, I received a call from the son of the owner of a member firm. This young man told me that his father not only refused to discuss the article, but also has rebuffed every inquiry into potential transition/ownership issues.

My caller’s situation and frustration are not uncommon. Most members of the industry know of eighty-plus year old funeral directors who maintain control of their companies while their sons/daughters and grandsons/granddaughters wait in the wings. How ironic that the professionals who confront the frailty of life on a daily basis, who should inherently know that nothing lasts forever, seem convinced that their own managerial positions do not adhere to these tenets!

To resolve the young caller’s dilemma, I explained that he needed to understand what was driving his father’s behavior (the motivating force), and, then, to identify which of four basic reactions to that force his father displayed. With this knowledge, he would be able to proceed effectively.

The prime motivator: Fear

The unique challenges and requirements of successful funeral-directing create a personal environment which is difficult, if not downright frightening, to abandon.

The funeral director who holds tightly to the control of the organization very likely spent his/her life sacrificially. Sacrificing time with family, failing to pursue hobbies or cultivate friendships outside of the profession, he/she channeled all energies toward service. Ask most funeral directors to describe themselves, and their story will focus on their career–how they have cared for their community, nurtured their staff, endured personal sacrifices in their devotion to promoting and expanding the business. Funeral directors, especially males, seldom label themselves as husbands or fathers first. Their personal identity has come from funeral directing, their satisfaction from pleasing and serving the community and from developing and supporting a close-knit staff. Because most of the director’s time has been spent with the people whom he serves and the people with whom he works, he is understandably fearful of losing the camaraderie and the well-deserved accolades his service and success have earned.

Additionally, if the director has regularly created personal yardsticks by which success could be gauged, (ten more funerals a year…one more good director on staff…one more innovation…one more…one more), how will success—or the worth of the director—be measured if the work- journey ends?

The Predicted Response: To Fight, To Flee, To Freeze, To Forever Defer

As my young caller began to understand his father’s fear, I urged him to consider whether his father was responding by fighting, running away, stopping dead in his tracks, or simply delaying. I proposed four examples for his consideration:

#1. Fight. This reaction to fear is exemplified by the director who rages at his staff on a regular basis. The director’s anger, stemming from the fear that nothing will fill the void the loss of power and control will leave, creates significant family infighting and contention. Though beginning at the top, the fighting eventually becomes endemic to the organization at all levels and creates an abusive or dysfunctional environment. Unchecked, it leads to the eventual destruction of the organization.

#2. Flee. Rather than face an issue, this director retreats to a safer activity where he does not have to face his fear. The cars need washed, this certificate needs run, these chairs need delivered… all safe reactions to a very fearful event. Many times, this director uses work as an excuse to walk away from major discussions—we label this director a workaholic.

#3. Freeze. This past Wednesday, I walked to my barn to feed the cats who reside there for mouse patrol. I opened the cupboard for their food and came face to face with the largest snarling raccoon I have ever encountered. What did I do? I froze on the spot! Time stood still. After what seemed like an hour, I tore out of the building at a speed far surpassing any quarter mile race I have ever entered! This freeze response is a natural reaction to danger. As a reaction to the fear of transition, it is revealed in the funeral director who spends hours alone in the office, who hides in the liquor bottles, who knows what needs to be done but never moves to do it. A numbness permeates both the director and the organization.

#4. Forever Defer. A variation of #3, this director also knows what needs to be done and appears to pursue a resolution; the task is never quite complete. Instead, days are filled with consultant after consultant–none of whom have the right answers; articles are read; superficial discussions occur; “lip service” is given to a possible plan of action; but, the actual transition is, forever, side-stepped. This is the funeral service operation that is “working” on transition when the owner dies—leaving the operation in disarray.

As my caller began to digest the information, I emphasized that his father’s behavior and attitude were not unusual. Confronting fear successfully is difficult, especially when it is shrouded with the cloak of anger or busyness, immobility or impotence.

When I made the decision to leave the active managerial role at my funeral home and transition my children into that position, I gave up my entire social network, the security I found in the experience of management, and my life story up to that point. I was unprepared for the fear which gripped me every day. But, going back to school to learn new skills (with students half my age!), I gained a far deeper respect for what we do in our profession, for the people we employ, for my family, and, most importantly, for myself.

Through Gestalt training, I understood the errors I had made, and saw how I could help others

avoid them. I learned that the future is not an individual journey, but a journey we co-create; for as the leaders of independent funeral homes, we are responsible not simply for our careers, but for the preservation of the multi-generational heritage of the organization we have led.

As our conversation drew to a close, I assured my caller that I was confident that successful transition would occur if he and his father were willing to be guided through two vital steps. Initially, they would both need to acknowledge the issues; then, they would need to begin directed, productive conversation to resolve them. Completing these steps would allow him to consider his father a mentor and advisor–not an adversary, and would empower his father to confidently move away from the presidential chair and stand, not fearing the future, but helping design it.

Richard Geib II is chairman, and past-president of the Geib Funeral Homes, Crematories and Remembrance Centers in New Philadelphia and Dover, Ohio. Geib presently assists key business operators in perfecting short and long term business strategies. Share feedback or contact him at rich@geibassociates.com or by telephone at (330) 260-7003.