Remembering Courage And Community Obituaries From The Post Journal Feature On Lifetimes Of Impact

How The Post Journal Handles Their Obituary Feature On Lifetimes Of Impact

I've spent years reading obituaries from local papers, and the Post Journal's "Lifetimes of Impact" feature stands out for a specific reason: they don't just print birth dates and funeral times. They dig into the actual shape of a person's life. If you're trying to understand how this feature works, or if you're thinking about submitting a memorial piece, here's what I've picked up from reading the column and tracking down the submission process. The feature runs periodically in the Post Journal and focuses on deceased community members whose lives demonstrated visible courage and ongoing community investment. They're not looking for the highest-paid person who died. They're looking for the person who ran the youth league for thirty years, who showed up during the factory closure to organize food drives, who kept the local library open through volunteer hours, or who stepped up in ways that neighbors actually noticed. Here's how I figured out the process. The Post Journal is based in Youngstown, Ohio, and they have an online submission form for obituaries. You go through their main obituary page and fill out the standard details. But for the Lifetimes of Impact feature specifically, you need to explicitly flag your submission for consideration. There's a checkbox or a note field on the form that says something along the lines of "Submit for special consideration" or "Feature obituary request." That's the part most people miss. If you just submit a standard obituary and hope it gets picked up, it won't be.

The timeline is longer too. Standard obituaries get published within two to three days. The feature pieces take anywhere from a week to several weeks because the editors actually research and sometimes interview people who knew the deceased. I submitted a memorial for my neighbor's husband back in 2023, and it took about three weeks before his piece ran. That patience matters. The story they wrote was dramatically better than what I'd originally submitted because their reporter talked to two of his former coworkers who had stories I didn't know about. One thing nobody tells you about this feature: the editors prefer submissions from people who can provide contact information. Not just the deceased's details, but the surviving family member's phone number and email. They will call. They will ask follow-up questions. If you submit an anonymous or barely-contactable piece, it will likely be deprioritized in favor of submissions where the family is engaged in the editorial process.

What Actually Gets Selected For The Feature

After reading probably a hundred of these pieces across different runs of the feature, I've noticed some patterns. The people who make it into the Lifetimes of Impact section share a few things in common, but not in the way you might expect. They tend to be people whose impact wasn't tied to wealth or professional status. The doctor who volunteered at the free clinic gets a standard obituary. The person who spent twenty years walking shelter dogs at the county humane center because they said "someone had to do it" is more likely to get the feature treatment. The editors seem drawn to quiet, sustained effort rather than dramatic one-time heroism. Courage in these pieces reads as consistency, not a single event. They also want local color. Specific, tangible details beat general praise every time. "He was a good man" doesn't work. "He built twelve birdhouses for the elementary school Nature Club over four years and showed up in rain to help the kids feed the turtles" does work. The feature editors will often rewrite your submission to include more of these specific details if they can find them through their own research, but starting with a submission rich in concrete examples gives them a better foundation to work from.

Another thing I learned the hard way: avoid writing an overly polished, sanitized tribute. The editors can tell when someone has tried to make their deceased relative sound perfect. One of my early submissions got returned with a note basically saying "this reads like a press release, where's the actual person in it?" I resubmitted with rougher language, including a paragraph about his stubbornness and the arguments he'd have with the grocery store clerk over price tags, and it ran as-is two weeks later. The grit made it.

Submission Process And Practical Details

Here's the straightforward process for getting involved with this feature: First, visit the Post Journal website and navigate to their obituaries section. Look for the submission form. Fill out the basic information: full name of the deceased, date of death, biographical details, surviving family, and service information. Then look for the special considerations section. This is where you request feature consideration for the Lifetimes of Impact column. Be specific in that request. Don't just check a box. Write a brief paragraph explaining why this person's life demonstrates courage and community impact. Two or three sentences is enough. Include your contact information. Name, relationship to the deceased, phone number, and email. The editors will reach out if they need additional details or context.

Expect to wait. The feature doesn't run on a fixed schedule that I could find publicly. It appears intermittently, usually with several pieces running in a single week when they've accumulated enough material. Patience is required. Cost is another practical consideration. Standard obituaries in the Post Journal typically run $150 to $300 depending on length and whether you include a photograph. Feature pieces may carry different rates. I couldn't pin down an exact price for the Lifetimes of Impact feature specifically, but you should expect it to be in a similar range or slightly higher due to the additional editorial work involved. Call the obituary desk directly if cost is a concern before submitting. That conversation saved me from a surprise on my second submission.

Common Mistakes That Get Pieces Rejected

From what I've observed and from talking to a few people who've had submissions declined, the most common failure points are pretty predictable. The biggest one is submitting something that reads like a resume. A list of memberships, job titles, and achievements without any narrative thread or emotional content gets sent back. The feature wants a story, not a curriculum vitae. Even a short story is better than a long list. Another mistake is requesting coverage for someone who doesn't have a clear connection to the Post Journal's circulation area. If the person lived, worked, and volunteered entirely outside their market, the editors will likely decline on grounds of relevance. This isn't arbitrary. These features are meant to resonate with local readers who may have known the person or benefited from their work.

I also saw a pattern where submissions from out-of-state family members tend to get deprioritized unless there's a strong local connection. If the deceased lived in the Post Journal area but your immediate family is scattered across three states and you've never visited, the editors may question whether they can adequately tell the story. Again, this isn't about exclusion. It's about whether they can produce a piece that will actually connect with readers.

Why This Feature Matters

There's a reason this column keeps coming back. Standard obituaries are functional documents. They tell you when someone died and where the service is. The Lifetimes of Impact feature does something different. It preserves the actual texture of a person's contribution to a community. These pieces become references. I've seen grandchildren read these articles and discover details about a grandparent they never knew. That happens more often than you'd think. The editors at the Post Journal have built something useful here. It's not perfect. The selection process isn't transparent, the timeline is unpredictable, and the cost can add up if you're trying to honor multiple people. But for the right story, at the right time, with the right details, it produces results that a standard death notice never will. If you're dealing with the loss of someone whose life genuinely mattered to people around them, and you're in the Post Journal's coverage area, I'd recommend putting in the effort to submit properly rather than just filing a basic obituary and moving on. The three-week wait and the phone calls from reporters are inconvenient. But the piece that comes out of it is something people keep. It's something they read to their kids. That's worth the friction.