Sure keep.looking for yours.
You still get a printed newspaper?
Yes. When, some years back now, there were a lot of WWII veterans dying, I was often surprised by the amount of a local guys having bronze or silver stars for valor in action or having fought in the Pacific with one or more purple hearts, etc. It was a lesson in humility.
keeping track of my friends.
Sure, and I'll quit reading them when I read mine.
I pay to read the local news PAPER "ONLINE". tHE DELIVERY TO MY PAPERBOX WAS TOOOOO UNRELIABLE. i DO CARE ABOUT THE DEATHS OF SOME OF THE PEOPLE i KNOW. @ 80 I'm seeing my contemporaries die regularly. "SORRY BIDNESS''
Not in the paper, but check Legacy and just Google the first ex-wife's name to see if she is gone yet.
Your version of the social pages?
I check the local death notices a couple times a week. If I recognize someone, I'll read the obit when it comes out. I read them online.
Love it when they die at 82, and show a pic of them when they were 30.
I read them back when I was working. I told my crew that if their name came up in the obits they could go home. But they were expected to be back at the next shift. No one ever got the day off though one came close. He had a middle name but the person in the obit did not.
Yep. Actually saw my name in there once, right down to the middle initial. Was an older guy who was related and lived nearby but it was an eye opener early in the AM.
Dale
To see if you’re the last man standing? Human nature.
Love it when they die at 82, and show a pic of them when they were 30.
I fail to see a problem with that. Why not post a loved one's photo when young and vibrant instead of knocking on death's door.
Getting some traction with this one Wabi.
You sly ol cornshucker.
I do it every week or two. I don't live where I grew up so it's a way of keeping up with old friends.
A long time friend of my brothers & I passed on three weeks ago. Jane an RN.
At least once a week - I hate seeing people I know
After my grandmother died, my grandfather lived with us for his remaining few years.
I have never forgotten sitting at the kitchen table one day after school, doing my homework, my mother fixing supper and across the table from me, my grandfather reading the afternoon paper. (There was a morning paper and an afternoon paper in those days, 1957.) As he occasionally did, my grandfather said something to my mother, that someone they knew had died. This time, however, he lowered the paper, looked across it at me, and solemnly intoned, “When you get to be my age, the first thing you read in the paper every day is the obituary page.” He was 85 at the time.
I check the obits on our hometown paper sight every night.