THREE GENERATIONS OF SERVICE

BY THE ALMAND FAMILY

By Nowell Briscoe

For 74 years, one family name in the pages of Monroe’s history stood among the most respected and dedicated of its citizens.  Just the mention of the name brought words to mind like respect, dedication and utmost professionalism. 

From 1898 until 1972, the name of E. L. Almand was not only synonymous with civic and community endeavors, but the family business, The E. L. Almand Company Funeral Directors, brought comfort and solace to thousands of families they served during their long professional career.  Founded by E. L. Almand Sr., the business began in Social Circle as Almand Hardware Company.  In the rear of the store was a side business serving as the town funeral parlor.   After several prosperous years in Social Circle, Ed senior moved his family to Monroe in 1923 and opened The E. L. Almand Company Funeral Directors which was located at the corner of Broad Street and Highland Avenue.  In 1929 the hardware company closed due to the Depression but Mr. Almand retained the funeral home business, opening its doors on Main Street in Social Circle. 

In 1953 the Monroe business relocated its operations to the former residence of Mr. John T. Robertson at 243 North Broad Street, a beautiful, two storied, Victorian home with gingerbread latticework on the porches.  For the time, this was one of the finest funeral homes in the area, and the Almands were known all over the South for their keen sense of professionalism and attention to detail.  In an interview for the 1968 Sesquicentennial Edition of the Walton Tribune, Ed Almand, Jr. said of his business, “No one has ever been turned The old adage, “Death takes no holiday”, is certainly true, and no one could better relate to the phrase than the Almand family. 

The carefully chosen team that comprised the staff of Almand’s was always on hand and ready to serve and assist families when death knocked on their door. Regardless of the season, the time of day, and even on holidays, when you called The E. L. Almand Company in a time of need, they were always there ready to lend a compassionate hand. away because of limited resources or lack of funds.  Regardless of the price the families choose to pay, our full facilities are available to all and within the reach of all.”

In a Tribune column by Sanders Camp on June 17, 1949, he quoted,” Sunday I attended a funeral in another city, and was forcefully impressed with one fact as I have been on several other occasions in my life: to give credit where credit is due.  I have never yet seen a funeral conducted with as much dignity, tact, finesse and thoughtfulness elsewhere as we see done by the Almands almost on a daily basis. Mostly little things, some commonly unnoticed by many, but those little things add up mightily when the performance is reviewed as a whole.”

It takes a special person to be a funeral director, and it seems that the Almand family was well suited to the call.  No person, perhaps, comes closer to the lives and heartstrings of a community than a funeral director.  It is a position that carries great professional responsibility, plus an incalculable opportunity for public service and personal concern. 

After  the death of founder E. L. Almand, Sr., in 1959, the daily operations were handled by his son, E. L. Almand, Jr.  His son, Edward III, joined the firm in 1957.  Following in his father’s footsteps as one of Monroe’s most civic and cultural leaders, Ed Almand, Jr. embarked on a similar civic journey, serving in many official capacities , even as mayor from 1943 to 1946.

 When E. L. Almand, Jr. retired in 1972 , the business closed, bringing to an end 74 years of dedicated and professional service to the Monroe  and Social Circle community.  That is an impressive record of service by any account, as is summed up by the following poem:

                                    The Undertaker

                             The midnight hour, the darkest hour

                             That human grief may know,

                             Sends forth its hurried summons

                             Asks me to come, --- I go!

                             I know not when the bell may toll,

                             I know not where the blow may fall,

                             I only know that I must go

In answer to the call.

                             Perhaps a friend ---perhaps unknown

                             ‘Tis the fate that turns the wheel

                             The tangled skein of human life

                             Winds slowly on the reel.

And I? ----I’m the undertaker.

                             “Cold bloodied,” you’ll hear them say,

                             “Trained to the shock and chill of death,

                             With a head that’s cold and gray.”

                             Trained---that’s what they call it,

                             How little they know the rest.

                             I’m human, and know the sorrow

                             That throbs in the aching breast.