Writing an Obituary That Actually Honors Someone
Most people have to write an obituary at least once in their lifetime, and most of them do it wrong. They either write something too generic that could apply to anyone, or they pile on so much formal language that the person comes across as a cardboard cutout instead of a human being. I learned this the hard way a few years ago when I helped my neighbor draft her father's tribute after he passed suddenly at 72. The trick isn't in fancy language or dramatic structure. It's in picking the right details that make someone feel present. My neighbor's dad was a quiet guy who fixed cars out of his garage for free whenever someone in the neighborhood couldn't afford it. He wasn't famous, he didn't win awards, but if you asked anyone in the area about him, they'd tell you the same story about how he showed up unannounced with a toolbox and a thermos of coffee.
The Heartbreaking Obituary Of Ronald Meadows A Tribute To A Life Of Service
Ronald Meadows' obituary is a good example of what works. The piece doesn't try to be poetic. It doesn't use grand metaphors about angels or journeys. Instead, it sticks to the facts and lets the service he provided speak for itself. Ronald was a career public servant — something like 35 years in local government, mostly in infrastructure and community development. He retired two years ago, survived by his wife Margaret, three children, and seven grandchildren. What stands out in that obituary is how it handles the service angle without turning it into a resume. The writer mentions the bridge project he oversaw in '98 that connected the south side to the downtown core. Mentions the community center that opened in 2004. But it also includes the detail about how he always kept a drawer full of granola bars at his desk because he knew kids in the after-school program would skip dinner sometimes. Those granola bar details are what make the piece land. If you're trying to write something similar, start with a list. Write down every job, every role, every volunteer position the person held. Then circle the ones that actually meant something to them, not just the ones that looked impressive on paper. Ronald could've listed every committee he sat on and every ribbon he cut. The obituary doesn't do that. It picks the ones that defined him.
Another thing that works in Ronald's piece: it mentions his death without making death the focus. He died on a Tuesday. That's it. No dramatic last words, no hospital scene. Just the fact that he was gone. That restraint matters because it keeps the attention on the life, not the loss. I've read obituaries where the family spends three paragraphs describing the final days, and it completely shifts the tone from celebration to grief. Both are valid, but they serve different purposes. One pitfall I keep seeing is the automatic inclusion of the survivor list right at the top. It's traditional, sure, but it's also the first thing most readers scan and forget. Try pushing it lower or tucking it into the body. Ronald's obituary opens with his work instead, which makes more sense. You're introducing a person, not filing a legal document. There's also the question of tone around service-oriented people. It's easy to slip into hagiography when someone spent their life helping others. You start piling on superlatives — selfless, dedicated, tireless — until the person sounds like a saint instead of a human. Ronald was clearly dedicated, but the obituary avoids that trap by letting the facts do the work. The bridge project is mentioned matter-of-factly. The granola bars are mentioned in the same tone. No extra adjectives needed.
Get the Full Details
Length is another consideration. The Meadows piece runs about 400 words, which is on the shorter side but appropriate for a newspaper column. If you're writing for a website or a memorial page, you can go longer, but there's no reason to pad it. I've seen 1,200-word obituaries that contained the same information as a tight 500-word version. The extra length usually comes from filler — repeated achievements, vague character descriptions, or listing every single trip the person ever took. One practical note about formatting and submission. Most newspapers have word limits and will edit down what you submit, sometimes aggressively. If you want control over the final version, check the outlet's guidelines first. Some will let you submit a longer piece and trim it themselves. Others will return it for revision if it's over a certain count. The obituary for Ronald Meadows likely went through the local paper's standard process, which is why it reads so cleanly — the editor probably helped tighten it. If you need help finding examples to from, searching for obituaries of people in public service is a good starting point. Look for ones that mention specific projects or moments rather than general character traits. Those tend to be the most readable and the most memorable. Ronald Meadows' piece works because someone bothered to include the granola bars.
