Post-mortem: Burying the dead in a most violent year

Williams had just made it to honor an 8-month old child killed by his father — one of the sad tasks he performs as a director of a funeral parlor in a city riddled by violence.

In a city that routinely leads the country in violent crime, Baltimore's murder toll has proved harrowing, even to those in the death business.

Violence in the most vulnerable neighborhoods has spiked since April, when Baltimore erupted in rioting and civil unrest following the death of a black man, Freddie Gray, from injuries suffered in a police van.

Inside Williams' funeral home one warm late August day, soft music played downstairs as friends and relatives of a recent homicide victim visited the viewing area to see the man one last time.

Minutes later, after Williams unlocked the door and the crowd streamed into the viewing area, the woman rushed out of the room wailing and crumpled to the floor.

Since he was a child, Williams said he's wanted to be an undertaker, to honor the dead and comfort grieving families.

[...] right now, I find myself praying a lot," he said, "hoping that something, somewhere, will keep this particular family, these particular people, through this particular time.

Since opening his home four years ago, Williams has been committed to the idea of running a tiny operation.

Preserving the intimacy that comes with being personally involved in each stage of the process, from picking up the body to lowering it into the ground, presiding over the funeral service and comforting grieving relatives, remains a priority.

Since the violence began to spike Williams has worked around the clock, preparing bodies late into the night.

On the day that man was to be buried, Williams led the procession through northwest Baltimore, driving slowly down its cracked streets and corners littered with trash and overgrown with shrubs.

In repairing physical wounds, he said, he tries to soften the blow of the brutality the victim endured, and the reality of the act committed.