A 13-year-old girl wanders the Santa Maria Cemetery while she reads the gravestones to inspect the dates signifying a birth and death – sometimes the only proof left of a person’s existence. Under the willow tree, she sits in between the oldest part of the cemetery and the children’s burial grounds as she reflects on the people beneath the names etched in stone.

Coral Armour found tranquility among the dead 30 years ago on her walks through the rows of gravestones, which became a regular activity for her growing up. She often requested to be dropped off at the cemetery while her mother ran errands. It was her quiet place as her childhood home doubled as a full day care service.

The CSUN alumna majored in art and minored in anthropology with a concentration in archeology in 2017. After being a self-employed artist for three years following graduation, she decided to leap into a different career path.

In late February 2020, a temp agency informed her of a receptionist position opening at a funeral home. She jumped at the opportunity, which was hardly a surprise to those close to her.

But what no one knew at the time was that she would be joining the funeral industry's frontline only one week prior to California Governor Gavin Newsom declaring a state of emergency in March due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Armour remembers when the funeral home began logging cases to differentiate between COVID-19 related and non-COVID-19 deaths. Each week the color coordinated calendar went from white, which is associated with accidents and elderly cases, to almost completely red and yellow, indicating COVID-19 positive and COVID-19 possible cases. 

At the pandemic’s peak, she said the funeral home would serve nearly 200 cases each month and 40 cases on a weekly basis. 

The funeral home is a direct cremation service provider, meaning that the decedents’ bodies are transported directly from the hospital or morgue to an off-site crematorium. The remains are then put in the care of the funeral home and released to the families.

Armour described her line of work as having the same energy as an emergency room. As third responders, the funeral service they provide is time sensitive and calls for a high level of urgency.

“Your heart starts pounding because as soon as someone passes away, literally the minute that time of death is called,” Armour said. “The clock is ticking and you have to move very quickly and be diligent about the work that you do just like a hospital. Everything has to be documented a certain way, certain signatures have to be in place, the right people have to be contacted and all of this has to be done quickly. It requires a lot of agility, stamina and being on your toes.”

The surge in COVID-19 related deaths demanded immediate and increased attention so it was common for Armour to work early mornings and late nights, nearly everyday of the week.

“I would go to work and it was dark and when I would leave work it was dark – all the time,” she said. “It was literally a dark time.”

In the past year, Armour fulfilled various roles, including receptionist, field operations service support and most recently a funeral arranger.

“This job has shown me the spectrum of humanity,” Armour said. “Death touches everybody at some point, so to be the catcher’s mitt for that is a learning experience every single day.”

She encountered many cases where multiple family members would die from COVID-19 in short time frames, sometimes from attending gatherings.

“There was a case where the father passed away on Monday and the mother passed away on Friday,” Armour said. “It makes me upset thinking about it because I spoke to those children and they told me the stories, and it wasn’t just them.”

For every person who dies of COVID-19, researchers estimate that approximately nine close relatives are bereaved, according to a study by the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America. 

Armour said she thinks about the families she serves often, and the fact that many of them weren’t able to be with their loved ones in the hospital as they died.

“You really have to love humanity to do this job, because it’s hard,” Armour said. “It’s a funeral service, we are in service for these people and these families.”

Between last year’s Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s festivities, the funeral home saw a post-holiday season spike in COVID-19 related cases.

“So many people were dying, we couldn’t even reconcile what was happening,” Armour said. “All you can do is work as much as you can, be there as much as you can and devote your full attention.” 

By January 8, Los Angeles County documented 318 COVID-19 related deaths and a total of 18,313 new cases, which were attributed to the back-to-back holidays.

“The scale of tragedy associated with this pandemic is unfathomable, even more so because so much of it has been preventable,” the county’s Chief Science Officer Dr. Paul Simon said about the virus’ post-holiday surge at a news conference.

Following Christmas, the pandemic became personal to Armour when she experienced her own loss. Her best friend’s mother, whom she thought of as a second mother, died after contracting the virus, unrelated to the holiday.

“That’s someone I’ve known since I was 15 and she’s known me my whole life, basically,” Armour said. “Her family was more family than my own family was.”

COVID-19 robbed her of being by her side in her final moments. 

“We took her to the hospital and they wouldn’t let us in,” Armour said. “They admitted her and she died.”

The last year has reminded Armour that life can be taken away in an instant so when she says goodbye to people, it matters to her.

“When you receive that terrible phone call, there’s no pause button or rewind to make that stop,” she said.

The grief was a chapter Armour didn’t want to read or be a part of; however, it allowed her to walk in crisis with the families she served.

“To have my personal life reflect what was happening at work was extremely surreal,” she said. “I was experiencing a sudden loss as a result of COVID, putting me and the families at work in the same boat. It gave greater meaning to the service I provide them.”

Her role requires her to be serious at all times, especially when she enters a room to present the cremated remains to the families. Armour said she walks in holding their loved one’s ashes like she would a child and then gently places the box or urn near the family. 

“No matter what’s going on behind the scenes, no matter what emergency call you just got off of or the urgency of another case or pressing matter from the hospital, you have to remember you’re about to present the remains of a mother, father, child or sometimes a best friend,” Armour said.

After she sits down with a family and hands over their loved one’s remains, she needs time to recover from the encounter before resuming her work day and potentially meeting with more families. 

Armour is the mother of a 13-year-old son. She said motherhood impacts the way she approaches her role at work.

“Sacrifice is a huge part of motherhood and you don’t know your ability to sacrifice until you’re put in a position to be responsible for another human being,” she said. “So now I’m responsible for these human beings even though they’ve transitioned off of this plane. Their bodies are still here and they need to be cared for and returned to their families.”

Armour said she’s thankful to have family and friends who check on how she’s doing mentally and emotionally, but admits she doesn’t often talk about the toll her day-to-day cases have on her wellbeing on a personal level. 

To unwind and cope with the heaviness of her line of work, Armour values moments of silence when she gets home from the office.

“I’m more than sympathetic with my families, I’m empathetic with them and I know what they’re feeling, so I need that silence and space every night to have a completely clear mind,” Armour said. 

A year into the pandemic, the funeral home’s caseload has decreased significantly. She witnessed the cases go from 40 a week to about 10. 

Although Armour is green in the funeral industry, she wasn’t alone in experiencing a pandemic for the first time. Her colleagues, who have been in the field for nearly 20 years, said they have never worked through anything remotely similar to COVID-19 either.

“We’ve been catching our breath from the last year because it was very, very intense and hard to watch,” Armour said. “Sometimes it’s a matter of fatigue that makes the job hard. I’m tired. But the motivation to be there for the families is always behind me and in the back of my mind.”