When an Obituary Breaks the Silence: The Raw Truth Behind a Small-Town Minnesota Farewell
In a quiet Minnesota town, what should have been a straightforward obituary spiraled into a storm of controversy—shaking a community and sparking a nationwide debate on the boundaries of honesty in death notices.
Beneath the customary details of birth, marriage, and family, readers discovered a bitter confession loaded with decades of pain and unresolved anger. This was no ordinary farewell; it was a final message from children who declared their mother’s absence a relief rather than a loss.
The obituary of Kathleen Dehmlow, published briefly in the Redwood Falls Gazette, initially seemed like any other: born in Wabasso, Minnesota, in 1938; married to Dennis Dehmlow in 1957; mother to two children, Gina and Jay. But the narrative took a sharp and unforgiving turn halfway through.
“In 1962, she became pregnant by her husband’s brother, Lyle Dehmlow, and moved to California,” the obituary revealed. “She abandoned her children, Gina and Jay, who were then raised by her parents in Clements, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Schunk.”
The final, chilling lines made clear the children’s feelings:
“She died in Springfield on May 31, 2018, and she will now be judged. Gina and Jay know this world is a better place without her, even though they will miss her.”
The blunt honesty stunned readers, quickly going viral and igniting fierce online debates. Was this a raw expression of hurt, or an inappropriate airing of deeply personal grievances in a public forum? Many wrestled with the question: how much truth is too much when remembering the dead?
Heather Lende, a seasoned obituary writer and author, cautioned against such harsh candor.
“An obituary is a public notice meant to honor a life,” she said. “If kindness can’t be found, it’s often best to stick to the facts rather than emotional attacks.”
Family members have since pushed back on the obituary’s stark portrayal. Dwight Dehmlow, a relative, told the Star Tribune that Kathleen’s story was more complicated than the obituary suggested. “Yes, she made a mistake 60 years ago, but she regretted it deeply,” he said, adding that Kathleen spent her final days peacefully, cared for by family.
The uproar even prompted Legacy.com, a major obituary platform, to announce a review of its content guidelines to better manage future submissions.
This incident is far from isolated. In 2017, a similarly scathing obituary from Texas made headlines for publicly condemning the deceased’s abusive behavior. According to experts like Susan Soper, such blunt tributes often stem from lingering pain and fractured relationships. “It’s uncommon but not unheard of,” she explained. “Sometimes, obituaries become a final, unfiltered expression of hurt.”
For Kathleen’s son, Jay Dehmalo—who changed his surname to distance himself from his past—the obituary was a form of closure. “We knew it would cause a stir, but writing it was necessary,” he told the Daily Mail. “It gave us the last word.”
Final Thoughts
The incendiary obituary of Kathleen Dehmlow has sparked a broader conversation about grief, memory, and the fine line between honesty and respect.
What began as a simple death notice unfolded into a raw recounting of abandonment and long-buried family wounds. While some see it as a painful but cathartic truth-telling, others view it as a violation of private sorrow.
As media outlets and obituary services rethink their policies, this story highlights how the last words we leave behind can wound or heal—and how complicated legacy truly is. Ultimately, Kathleen’s children chose to share their version of the story, challenging everyone to consider one difficult question: when it comes to saying goodbye, how much honesty is too much?