Writing Obituaries That Actually Work
Most people have no idea what they're doing when they sit down to write an obituary for the Salem Statesman or any local paper. They grab the phone, call the funeral home, and start dictating a list of surviving relatives like it's a grocery order. The result is usually flat, generic, and sometimes wrong in ways that upset families. I've watched this happen enough times to know where it goes sideways. Let me walk you through how it should actually work, including some things I've learned the hard way.
Salem Statesman Obits Honoring Legacies Navigating Loss With Precision And Dignity
The core of a good obituary isn't pretty language. It's accuracy, structure, and knowing what details matter to the people reading it. Your goal is to give the community a clear picture of who this person was while hitting all the practical requirements the paper needs to publish it. Start by gathering the raw facts before you write a single sentence. Full legal name, date of birth, date of death, city of residence at time of death, and cause of death if the family wants that included. You need the full list of surviving family members — spouse, children, grandchildren, parents, siblings — and the predeceased list too. Funeral or memorial service details come next: date, time, location, and whether it's private or public. If there's a memorial donation preference, that goes at the end. Here's where I made a costly mistake early in my career. I once published an obituary without confirming the spelling of a sister's married name. The family found out after it went to print, and we had to run a correction the next day. It caused real friction. Now I require written confirmation of every single name spelled out, including maiden names and any name changes. I send it back to the primary contact and say: confirm this is correct or send the corrected version within four hours. Nobody likes being rushed during grief, but getting it wrong is worse.
The narrative section is what separates a forgettable notice from one people actually read. This is where most writers either go too short or drift into hagiography. A balanced obituary includes a brief life summary — where they grew up, education, career, military service, hobbies, community involvement, and defining personal qualities. Two or three specific anecdotes carry more weight than a paragraph of vague praise. "They volunteered at the food bank every Tuesday for twelve years" means something. "They were a wonderful person who touched many lives" means nothing. The Salem Statesman has specific submission guidelines that aren't always obvious. Word count typically runs between 200 and 500 words for standard submissions. Longer pieces may incur additional charges. Photos are accepted but need to meet their resolution requirements — usually a high-resolution JPEG, minimum 300 DPI. The paper also requires a fee, and payment is usually processed at the time of submission. Make sure you have the exact cost before you finalize everything so there's no last-minute scrambling. One thing beginners consistently miss: the difference between an obituary and a death notice. A death notice is essentially a factual announcement — name, age, date of death, service details. It's shorter and cheaper. An obituary includes the biographical narrative I described above. Families often want the fuller treatment but don't realize the price difference. Explain both options clearly and let them decide. I've seen families choose the cheaper death notice only to regret it when they realized they couldn't include the life story they wanted.
Get the Full Details

Timing matters more than people expect. Most newspapers need obituaries submitted at least 24 to 48 hours before publication. The Salem Statesman typically publishes on specific days of the week, so check their schedule. If someone passes on a Thursday and the family wants the obituary in Friday's paper, you're already cutting it close. Weekends and holidays create additional complications that can push publication back by days. There's also the question of online versus print. Many families now want both. The Salem Statesman likely offers digital obituary placement in addition to print. Digital versions can include photo galleries, video tributes, and guestbook features that print simply can't match. If the family is interested in this, find out exactly what's included and what costs extra before you recommend it. The hardest part of this work isn't the writing. It's managing expectations. Families are grieving, often exhausted, and sometimes disagreeing about what should be included. I've had siblings argue over whether an ex-spouse should be mentioned. I've had adult children want to include details about a struggle with addiction that the parent never discussed in life. There's no formula for every situation, but the rule I follow is straightforward: include what the deceased would have wanted included, filtered through what the immediate family can reasonably handle. If a detail is likely to cause harm or distress, flag it and move on.
Proofreading is non-negotiable. Read the entire piece aloud before submitting. You'll catch errors that your eyes skip over when reading silently. Check dates, names, and times at least twice. A wrong date on a death certificate reference is the kind of error that gets called out in print and damages credibility permanently. Keep a template file with the standard sections pre-formatted. You don't need to reinvent the structure every time. What changes is the content. Having a reliable template cuts preparation time significantly and reduces the chance of forgetting a required field. I keep mine organized by section: biographical header, survivor list, service details, narrative, and closing donation information. It takes me about twenty minutes to draft a standard obituary once I have the facts collected. Don't overlook the photo. A good headshot or life photo makes the obituary stand out and gives readers something to connect with. If the family doesn't have a suitable image, suggest they check old albums or ask friends. Blurry smartphone photos from 2019 rarely work well in print. Resolution is the enemy here, and nobody thinks about it until it's too late.
Finally, after submission, confirm receipt. Some papers send automated confirmations. Others don't. Follow up with a phone call if you haven't heard back within the timeframe they specified. An unsubmitted obituary is worse than a late one. At least late means you can still make it. Missing it entirely means the family has to start over, possibly missing the publication window they had in mind. That's essentially how it works. It's not glamorous. It's detail-oriented, occasionally uncomfortable, and requires you to stay level-headed when everyone around you is falling apart. Get the facts right, write honestly, and don't rush it. The rest takes care of itself.
