Ties optional: Funerals in pubs, bowls clubs, trains a sign of times

The mourners, many dressed in jeans and rock T-shirts, drink beer as loved ones give speeches. They write messages on the cardboard coffin. A can of beer has been opened on top, for Steve.

Some of Steve’s friends and even his mother, Dianne, get up to dance. The band, some of whom knew Steve, chant, “Steve! Steve! Steve!“

Celebrant Kimba Griffith, dressed in a black leather skirt and a T-Shirt emblazoned with her company’s name, The Last Hurrah Funerals, tells the crowd we are here “to farewell a true one of a kind, master of shenanigans, uber nerd and total legend - Steve Ellis”.

She says he took his own life, but never lacked love and friendship. She urges us to seek help if we feel low.

Griffth’s voice rises as she says: ’We come here to throw this killer funeral/gig/wake, in order to honour Steve as fiercely and fully as we can! Am I right?” Cheers ensue.

Ms Griffith, who has conducted 65 funerals since starting The Last Hurrah with business partner Nastassia Jones a year ago, prefers to term its style as “unique” rather than “alternative”; they’re not theme funerals, but seek to capture someone’s essence.

A keen horticulturalist’s funeral might be held in a beautiful garden; a well known bar fly was honoured by the hearse stopping at his favourite pubs and his football club. Some clients might prefer an Irish wake-style service at home, with the coffin in the lounge room.

“It’s about having a funeral that reflects the person that died so that when you turn up as a friend or family member you say, ‘that’s them’.”

Steve Ellis’s mother, Dianne Ellis, gained comfort from giving Steve a send-off “he would have really liked”.
She didn’t want a “boring hearse” - The Last Hurrah used a 1973 white Cadillac hearse - and “didn’t want that sycophantic fake sympathy” of a conventional service.

Steve had done work experience at the Tote while studying sound and lighting, and loved music and a party.

“He loved the Tote. That place meant a lot to him,” she said.

“I felt such a wonderful sense of peace after that funeral, as crazy as it was.″⁣

James MacLeod, managing director of Tobin Brothers funerals, said there has been a trend towards more creative funerals, be they held at a pub or involve mourners playing barefoot bowls.

”People want to celebrate their loved one’s life in a manner that befits them,” Mr MacLeod said. “And it’s really important that we do that.”

“Every life’s different, every life’s unique and we believe that every funeral should be too,” he said. “Our philosophy is ’if it’s legal, it’s possible.“

One Tobin Brothers funeral was held on a vintage train; one memorial service on a Boeing 737 jet; and one funeral was held on the banks of the Murray River, with the coffin arriving by boat.

Kelly Scott, a senior vice president of Australian Funeral Directors Association’s Victorian branch and general manager of TJ Scott and Son funeral home in Kyneton said in the last 30 years people had moved away from religious services, although often there is still some spiritual element, and venues chosen included shearing sheds, art galleries and tennis courts and Hanging Rock.

“We listen to what the family wants and organise whatever they need,” she said. “Pretty much, if we can get permission, we’ll do it.“

Ms Scott saidduring the COVID-19 pandemic there had been more services held outside, which had “almost given people permission to think outside the box” and hold services at somewhere like a football oval.