The following article appeared in the Bergen Record:
Pilot is hired by survivors to scatter cremated remains
Sunday, January 30, 2005
By ELAINE D'AURIZIO STAFF WRITER
Photo by DON SMITH/STAFF PHOTOGRAPHERIt seemed like an odd request. At least that's what Bill Fallon, then a flight instructor, thought.
A hearse had pulled into the airport. The funeral director driving it wanted to know where he could find a pilot who would scatter a woman's ashes over the Watchung Mountains.
"I'd never heard of anything like it," recalls Fallon, of Bloomingdale. "Then I thought ... 'Why not? I'll do it.' It didn't take long before it made sense to me."
Twenty years and 20 dispersal missions later, Fallon has established an aerial ash-scattering company called Last Wish.
Fallon, a commercial pilot for American Airlines for 18 years, has released ashes over favorite hunting and fishing spots, a golf course, parks, hiking spots in the mountains and a few over the sea.
"They're places where they've spent their happier days, where they found comfort in life," Fallon said.
That's exactly what Tad Whitehead's family thought when they asked Fallon to scatter his ashes at sea off Long Beach Island in August.
"My father was outdoorsy and the family spent many happy times on Long Beach Island," said his daughter, Deborah Schwabe of High Bridge. "I think [doing ] this was such a beautiful thing, a little unique, and something my father might like."
Schwabe found Fallon, 43, on his Web site. And while on her computer, she found other unconventional ways of disposing of a loved one's ashes. For example, you can have ashes placed in a large concrete ball that will rest at the bottom of the ocean and become part of a reef.
As cremation grows in popularity, entrepreneurs are offering families new ways of disposing of a loved one's remains.
"Cremation is now 26 percent - higher on the West Coast - and it's expected to increase," Fallon said.
Reasons for the increase: scarcity of land, diminishing religious barriers, environmental concerns and mobility of families (no one to tend to graves). The idea of having her father's ashes released from Fallon's Cessna 182 single-engine, four-seater appealed to Schwabe the most.
"[Fallon] was willing to go to a spot that we wanted," she said. She didn't regret that choice.
"It was really beautiful," she said. Fallon called the family by cellphone from the air to tell them the ashes of the former Navy man had just been released over the sea.
The family chose their loved one's birthday and gathered for a memorial picnic at a sister's home, where they shared favorite memories about the departed.
"It was such a great experience," Schwabe said. "I felt he wasn't trapped anymore [in the urn]. It seemed a delightful thought that he was following the breeze and that he was with nature, which he adored."
Gratitude like that inspires Fallon to continue his service, although he says the $350 fee doesn't cover the cost of fuel, time and expenses for his plane. So he has to supplement it.
"I'd like to break even," he said. "But I'm happy to provide a service that's needed." Why don't people just scatter the ashes at a favorite spot of their loved one by hand instead of from 2,000 feet up in the air? "The higher the altitude, the wider the dispersal," Fallon said. He cites a man who hired him to scatter his wife's ashes over the National Wildlife Refuge in Basking Ridge.
"He can go anywhere in the refuge and feel that the spirit of his wife is all around him," Fallon said.
Fallon, who must abide by federal aviation and environmental protection regulations, seeks permission over places such as a golf course. Ashes cannot be dispersed over a populated area. So Fallon has had to turn down some requests, including one to disperse a man's ashes over a bar where the gentleman spent happy times.
Fallon says the powdery ashes are undetectable by the time they reach the ground. So if relatives are watching below, he releases rose petals with the ashes. Or he flashes his landing light from the sky to alert them that the ashes have been scattered.
He adds his own tribute - a traditional one to aviators - by heading west, which symbolizes flying into the setting sun just before he releases the ashes.
The first time Fallon released ashes from his cockpit window, some came back at him.
"I thought, there's got to be a better way to do it," he said.
Now he places them in a dispersal chamber with a valve that is opened by an assistant - Fallon's friend or relative - through an opening he's made in the plane's cargo door.
Fallon advises people to wait awhile before making a decision about dispersing a loved one's ashes. Most relatives, like Schwabe, have had the ashes in an urn for a year or more.
"The important thing is to have some kind of memorial service," he said.
He discourages family members from going up with him for the scattering of ashes.
"I will if they seem to be extremely OK with it," he said. "But it's better if they're not there because of what can happen in a situation of extreme grief. The main concern on every flight is safety."
What he does take on every Last Wish mission (besides an assistant) is sensitivity and caring.
"It's a solemn event," he said. "I try to provide it with respect. Sometimes I wish I knew more about the person."
Fallon gives certificates attesting that, "On this day, the cremains of ... were returned to earth." And it states the exact geographical area, signed by Fallon and the witness who was with him.
Fred Rupp of Westfield appreciated receiving a certificate after Fallon released his wife Nadine's ashes over the Great Swamp Wildlife Refuge in Basking Ridge in November.
"I feel that the preparation of this document is an excellent idea, which fixes the final place of the deceased and helps in the closing of a sad event," Rupp wrote to Fallon.
"It's a source of comfort for some but it's not for everybody," Fallon said of aerial scattering. "I'd never talk anyone into it. It's a personal choice. But for a few, it's a source of comfort for some and they're the ones I hope will be able to find me and make use of the service."
What about him? What's Fallon's last wish? Fallon (he and wife Maryann have a daughter, Amanda, 4) pondered the question. He'd want to comply with his family's wishes, he said, "I want them to be as comfortable as possible."
But he definitely wants to be cremated.
"I'd like my ashes and those of my late yellow Labrador retriever, Dakota, scattered over the woods behind my house from an airplane," he said.
E-mail: daurizio@northjersey.com
Read other articles by Elaine D'Aurizio at the Bergen Record Website