In 2025, I spent some time with a firm in Northern Illinois that represents the true challenge for your family funeral business. It reminded me of a battle in the civil war and inspired me to create this piece…
The Hornet’s Nest
That’s what Confederate soldiers called the position at Shiloh. A sunken road where Union troops under General Benjamin Prentiss held their ground for six hours against wave after wave of assault. Surrounded. Outnumbered. Taking fire from all sides.
The Confederates needed that position to punch through the Union line. Prentiss and his men didn’t know it at the time, but by holding that ground, they bought the Union army time to regroup and ultimately hold the field.
By the time Prentiss surrendered what was left of his force, over 2,000 of his men were dead, wounded, or captured. The position earned its name from the sound of musket fire so constant and fierce it sounded like a swarm of angry hornets.
The northern Illinois funeral home doesn’t know it’s surrounded.
For three generations, they’ve held their ground. Same corner lot. Same families. Same reputation for doing right by people when life falls apart.
But the landscape has changed.
A corporate consolidator has quietly purchased the funeral home two towns over. Then the one across the county line. Then the historic downtown location everyone thought was untouchable. Each acquisition comes with press releases about “preserving legacy” and “honoring tradition.” Each location keeps its old name. The families who sold stay on for a year, maybe two, then quietly disappear.
The encirclement is complete before anyone notices.
The family firm keeps running the same plays. Obit in the local paper. Handshakes at Rotary. Good work, fair price, familiar faces. The formula that has worked for 60 years.
What they don’t see: the corporate operators aren’t competing on service. They’re competing on position. Every surrounding firm now has venture capital behind it, call center infrastructure, CRM systems tracking every family contact, and regional pricing models that can undercut local rates on some services while jacking up margins on others.
The independent firm is taking fire from all sides.
Families start shopping price because the corporate locations have trained them to. “The place across town quoted us $3,200 less for the same casket.” Preneed leads dry up because the corporate firms have agents in every church, country club, and senior center with commission splits the independent can’t match. Staff get recruited away with benefit packages and PTO policies the family business can’t afford.
Every week brings another assault.
And like Prentiss at the Hornet’s Nest, they hold their ground. Not because they have a plan. Because retreat isn’t in their vocabulary. This is the family business. Their name on the sign. Their grandfather’s reputation to protect.
What they don’t see: they aren’t just fighting to hold the business. They’re fighting to pass something to the next generation.
The son is already working there. Learning the routes. Meeting families. Sitting in on arrangements. Being groomed to take over.
Except he isn’t inheriting a business. He’s inheriting a job.
A job that requires him to be as skilled, as connected, and as dedicated as his father—but without the forty years of relationship building that made his father successful. A job that only works because families trust Dad, not because systems create value independent of who shows up.
He’s inheriting a Rolodex of relationships he didn’t build. A reputation tied to his father’s name, not his own. An operational model that depends entirely on one person’s accumulated trust.
He’s inheriting a dying tradition in a market where every competitor has built thriving businesses on systems, not personalities.
They work longer hours. Cut their own salaries. Dip into savings to cover payroll. Keep saying yes to families even when the math doesn’t work. They’re holding the position.
But no one is coming to relieve them.
The Hornet’s Nest at Shiloh bought time for the Union army to establish a defensive line and ultimately hold the field. Prentiss and his men didn’t know they were serving that larger strategic purpose. They just knew they had orders to hold.
The northern Illinois firm is fighting the same battle. Surrounded. Taking casualties. Holding their ground.
The difference: they don’t know what they’re fighting for.
There’s no larger defensive line forming behind them. No strategic purpose their sacrifice is serving. Just slow attrition wearing down good people who think grit and reputation will be enough.
By the time they understand the position they’re in, the only question left is whether to surrender the ground or die on it.
The tragedy isn’t that they’re fighting. It’s what they’re fighting to preserve.
A business that requires the one asset that doesn’t transfer. A position that can only be held by someone with relationships they’ve spent forty years building.
They think they’re protecting their legacy.
They’re actually ensuring no one can inherit it.
