Growing up in and around a funeral home allows for many unique experiences not everyone can relate to. The Parthemore’s shed some light on their childhood growing up in a funeral home.

“When Dad opened the funeral home and we moved from 9th St. to Bridge St. I had to leave Hillside Elementary and start 4th grade at Manor Elementary School. It only took a few months until some of the kids started calling me Mort (short for Mortician) when they found out I was the new kid who’s dad just started a funeral home. It carried through high school with some of them and to this day a couple of them will still greet me as “Mort” after a period of time of not seeing each other.”
~ Gib Parthemore

“Of course there are a million memories, but the something that definitely stands out is that we had our own parking lot to ride our bikes. Actually, not sure if this considered normal or not, but as FDK’s (funeral director’s kids), we would tie the red wagon to the bicycle. One of us would ride the bike and the other one would lie in the wagon and we would pretend that it was a hearse in funeral procession!”
~ Bruce Parthemore

“Growing up at the funeral home, I recall, more than once, a friend that intended to sleep over, calling his parents to pick him up because it was too scary sleeping above a funeral home. I won’t name names. I also recall my parents being on a date and watching scary movies on Prism when the babysitter fell asleep. Watching a scary movie above a funeral home intensifies the effect. I remember having very little trick or treaters. I remember having to be quiet during evening viewings and after the viewings, setting up the chairs for the next day’s funeral service. I remember that despite the unusual environment, it was a great place to grow up, and all my friends enjoyed visiting because my parents were so warm and welcoming."
~Steve Parthemore

“I can remember having to be quiet at Pap and Grandma’s house (above the funeral home) when there was a viewing or service taking place on the first floor. I also enjoyed having wheel-chair races down the long corridor against my brother and cousins. I can also remember looking forward to the New Cumberland parades because we’d have friends and family join us on the front porch of the funeral home to watch.”
~ Gibby Parthemor