Personal experience: a journalist goes to work at a cemetery
Khovanskoye Cemetery, January 27, two o'clock in the afternoon. A group of four people stands by a black minivan. They are dressed in identical black jackets and hats. Next to them, on metal trestles, is a four-sided coffin with no handles. People in work uniforms are nailing the base of the coffin. About 5 meters from the coffin—just one grave away—stand several gravediggers, ready to take the coffin in their hands and lower it into the grave. We only need to cover those 5 meters. But three out of the four people in black take turns falling, bumping the bottoms of the coffin into the grave fences. Only the fourth one managed to stay on his feet. That was me.
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