Cemetery work isn’t just a job, it’s a ministry

    If there is a Super Bowl for cemeteries, it’s All Saints Day.
    More people visit cemeteries of the Archdiocese of New Orleans on Nov. 1 than on any other day of the year, and this year was no exception.
    On a postcard day – 72 degrees and azure skies – dozens of families visited the tombs of loved ones in St. Louis Cemetery No. 3 on Esplanade Avenue and placed fresh flowers in front of the marble memorials as Archbishop Gregory Aymond meandered up and down the quiet lanes, blessing the white tombs.
    At a distance, archdiocesan cemeteries operations manager Alan McCoy, in his crisp, white shirt, took it all in as though he were holding the Vince Lombardi Trophy.
    This is serious business, McCoy says, and everything matters.
    On Aug. 9, 1994, McCoy started as a maintenance worker at St. Louis Cemetery No. 3, a full-time job he needed to feed his family but one that he wasn’t exactly sold on.
    “It was kind of eerie at first,” McCoy said. “I worked all kinds of jobs, but now I was working at a cemetery, at a graveyard. This was definitely a different job.”
    As the new kid on the cemetery block, McCoy immediately was put to the test. To prepare a family tomb for a new burial, quite often room has to be made. It was McCoy’s job to carefully dismantle the previous casket and treat the physical remains with great reverence as they remained inside the tomb.
    “I passed the test pretty good,” McCoy said. “I was never really nervous because I had small kids and I knew I needed a job, and this was a permanent job. I had to overcome any nervousness to feed my family.”
    As the years went on, McCoy worked his way up to superintendent of St. Louis No. 3 and then to operations manager of the archdiocese’s 13 cemeteries. As he rose in his job, he had to shift roles from being a colleague of his coworkers to being their manager.
    “You have to separate yourself from being a friend and being a boss,” McCoy said. “That was something I had to figure out, and it brought a lot of hardship and confusion when I had to start physically writing people up or giving them verbal warnings. It took a little while, but I figured it out. I deal with guys in a respectful way, and they can still get along with me and respect me, like I respect them.”
    McCoy’s job often goes unnoticed, but everything about it affects a family at its most vulnerable moments.
    “When I started out, it was kind of like just a job,” McCoy said. “But over the years, you work out here and you meet the families. A lot of families know me personally. I really love doing it because it’s doing good for people who are really grieving and hurting. If there’s something small I can do for them – anything, like taking something out of the trunk of their car and carrying it to the place for them – it makes me feel good to see them happy.”
    Little things count. One woman wanted her nephew to be buried in the family tomb but didn’t want her father’s casket disturbed. McCoy was able to remove the father’s casket intact, dig a little deeper and then reinsert the casket in a way that both caskets fit.
    “That really pleased the family, and every time they come out, they always tell me hello,” McCoy said.
    When McCoy lost a nephew to suicide after Hurricane Katrina, he quickly bought a mausoleum crypt.
    “It was like my brother almost lost his will to live – he stopped working, like he was giving up,” McCoy said. “I did a lot of things to encourage him to pick himself up. I’ve never lost a child, but you know just watching how they hurt. What they’re going through affects me.”
    Later, McCoy purchased another larger space, where he, his parents and other relatives  will be buried one day.
    McCoy’s profession may raise eyebrows when he meets strangers, but he knows there is a sacred purpose to his mission.
    “I count everything as a blessing,” McCoy said. “Pretty much just waking up in the morning and being able to live to see another day is a blessing. God has to allow you to see another day. Being blessed with a job is a blessing in itself, because a lot of people are unemployed and looking for work and needing a job.”
    Sometimes, McCoy will just walk through the cemetery and say a quick prayer.
    “So many people are passing on,” he says. “Sometimes I’ll tell people, ‘I already have my place paid for. Whenever God calls me home, it’s already here. I’m ready.’ I think about that a lot.”
    Peter Finney Jr. can be reached at [email protected]