The Price of Being a Whistleblower

Modern Mortician Admin

Retaliation, Corruption, and a Fight for Justice

The Modern Mortician’s Legal Battle: Retaliation, Corruption, and a Fight for Justice

For over two decades, Melissa Meadow, known as The Modern Mortician, dedicated her life to funeral service, focusing on ethical, transparent, and sustainable deathcare. However, when she took a job at Penttila’s Funeral Home in Long Beach, Washington, she quickly found herself at the center of a campaign to ruin her career and personal life. What began as an effort to improve industry practices turned into a nightmare of wrongful accusations, retaliation, and a deeply flawed legal battle that resulted in a felony conviction for a crime she did not commit.

A Career of Advocacy Turns into a Target

Melissa’s commitment to educating the public about alternative funeral options and exposing unethical practices had already made her a controversial figure in the industry. Since 2015, she had been outspoken about issues like price gouging, misleading marketing, and corporate greed in deathcare. Despite this, she continued to work within the system, believing she could bring about change from the inside.

In April 2022, she was hired by Anderson, the owner of Penttila’s Funeral Home, after being transparent about her social media presence and advocacy work. Almost immediately, she began noticing serious issues, including unlicensed cremations, improper body handling, and cremations conducted on Amazon boxes instead of proper trays. She attempted to implement changes, but her efforts were dismissed or ridiculed.

Her position required her to handle administrative work, including setting up funeral home price lists and ordering supplies for three locations. She was given business credit cards to use for purchasing office and funeral supplies, which remained saved in her Amazon account. She also used many of her own personal supplies—stationery, keepsakes, and memorial items—to serve families, quickly depleting her stock without reimbursement.

Over the summer of 2022, tensions grew as Melissa became increasingly vocal about the funeral home’s unethical practices. In August, after she posted an educational TikTok unboxing a Titan Casket and informing consumers they could purchase caskets independently, Anderson ordered her to delete the video. When she refused, citing the transparency she had always maintained, their relationship further deteriorated. On August 31, while on a scheduled medical leave, she received a text message informing her that she had been fired.

Retaliation Begins

What followed was a coordinated effort to destroy her reputation and career. Anderson refused to let her pack her own belongings, instead having employees do it for her. When she arrived to retrieve them, she photographed the pile of Amazon boxes being used as makeshift cremation trays—one of many unethical practices she had tried to correct.

Over the next several months, Anderson escalated his retaliation. He falsely told unemployment officials that Melissa had been fired for harassing a colleague, a claim later overturned when the unemployment office ruled in her favor. He filed a complaint with the Washington Department of Funeral Licensing, accusing her of acting as a funeral director without a licensed funeral home. He reached out to her business colleagues and contacts. She was blacklisted in the industry, with local funeral homes being warned not to work with her.

By December 2022, the situation worsened. While volunteering at the Long Beach post office during the holiday rush, she learned that Anderson had walked in and demanded she be removed, claiming she was under investigation. Days later, a local police officer called her in for questioning regarding Amazon purchases made while she worked at Penttila’s. Despite explaining that the business credit cards had been saved to her account with Anderson’s knowledge, and that she had already returned many items, she was not read her Miranda rights before being pressured into writing a statement. She left the station believing the matter had been resolved.

A Wrongful Conviction

In March 2023, she received a court summons—not a formal arrest, just a letter in the mail. It was summoning her to Superior Court in said County, with a charge of THEFT BY MISDELIEVERY and listed one Casket. This casket had been sent to her for social media marketing and was not intended for the funeral home. She was able to procure a letter stating this and anxiously awaited her opportunity to correct the gross misunderstanding. At her first hearing, she was appointed a court-appointed attorney, Justin Kover, who quickly proved ineffective. He refused to meet with her outside of brief courthouse interactions, ignored evidence that could prove her innocence, and repeatedly delayed proceedings, weakening her case.

Meanwhile, the harassment intensified. Employees of Penttila’s confronted her in public places, shouting accusations at her in stores. In April, one of them began following her and recording her, prompting Melissa to file for a protective order. Even Anderson’s girlfriend ambushed her in a grocery store, trying to provoke a reaction.

As the case dragged on, prosecutors increased the pressure. What had started as a single charge was expanded to 14 counts of second-degree identity theft. Her attorney did nothing to push back. On September 29, 2023, after months of delays, legal intimidation, and emotional exhaustion, she was forced to sign a plea deal under duress. With no legal advocate willing to fight for her, she had no choice. She protested even as she signed, telling the attorney, “This isn’t what happened. This isn’t right.”

The Toll on Mental Health

The entire ordeal took a devastating toll on Melissa’s mental health. Already struggling with undiagnosed disabilities and the compounded stress of job instability, financial insecurity, and industry burnout, this situation pushed her to the brink. The isolation, constant defamation, and fear of retaliation created an environment where survival became the only priority. She had spent years advocating for better funeral practices, only to become a victim of the very corruption she had fought against.

The emotional weight of being publicly humiliated, having her livelihood stripped away, and being forced into a legal battle with no real defense shattered her sense of security. At her lowest point, she struggled to see a future beyond the accusations.

Fighting Back

Despite everything, Melissa refuses to let this define her. She has filed a grievance against her attorney with the Washington State Bar, gathered evidence proving her innocence, and will have the charge expunged in 2028 . She continues to speak out about industry corruption, advocating for greater oversight and protections for funeral professionals and consumers alike.

Her podcast, Exposing Deathcare, is now a platform for others who have faced similar retaliation. She remains committed to ensuring that what happened to her does not happen to anyone else.

A System Rigged Against Whistleblowers

Melissa’s case is a clear example of what happens when small-town business owners, legal systems, and industry insiders work together to silence those who challenge them. She was punished not because she did anything wrong, but because she tried to do what was right. The funeral industry thrives on secrecy, and those who expose its unethical practices often face severe consequences.

But Melissa isn’t backing down. She is determined to fight for justice, not just for herself, but for others who have been silenced, defamed, and retaliated against.

Justice for The Modern Mortician

Melissa’s story is far from over. She just completed a year long battle to retain her funeral director license and to clear her name. Melissa is still advocating for national regulatory changes, and continuing to provide support and education in ethical deathcare. The funeral industry may have tried to destroy her, but they underestimated her resilience.

Melissa Meadow has spent her career ensuring families have choices at end-of-life. Now, she is fighting for her own future—because the truth deserves to be heard.

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The Home Funeral of Bella Lugosi

By Bella Lugosi- My First Home Funeral for a Cat • March 18, 2025

Bella Lugosi ~ written in 2015 I don’t know when she was born… when I adopted her, she was estimated to be about a year old, and that was back in 2001, putting her around the age of 15. Over those 14 years, I spent more time with this creature than any human companion in my life. She understood me better, too. She knew when I was sad; becoming the pillow for my face, allowing the tears to soak her fur, my arm in a vice grip around her warm body. She knew when I was happy; we had a special song… “My Bella My Bella”. I’d sing it to her, as she would sit on the counter watching me go through my morning routine. She was a calm and comforting being in my life. She wasn’t “just a cat”. Bella Lugosi was diagnosed with the C word in June, and the next day, my Bella was dead. When the doctor uttered that word, cancer, I felt my stomach freeze and begin descend into a thick, black hole. Like I was hurtling into darkness and no one could see it, but I could feel it. My core went numb. I could feel the emotion drain from my face. He guessed she had three weeks… if I didn’t choose to attack it aggressively with tortuous procedures that wouldn’t necessarily prolong her existence, but might, at least I’d be doing something, right? Wrong. As much as I loved her, I loved her enough to know when to let her go. To let her comfort and needs come above my own selfish ones. We went straight home. I turned on the YouTube series, “Ask A Mortician”, and watched Caitlin Doughty, founder of the Order of the Good Death, tell me how she performed an in home euthanasia and wake for her cat, The Meow. I wanted to be ready. I wanted to give Bella the Good Death. But I didn't need this information after all... it came naturally as I dipped into my human death care knowledge. I called my friend Ellen, owner and caretaker of Eloise Woods Community Natural Burial Park. We would get together to pick a spot for Bella’s body in the next few days. I begin to reach out to mobile vet technicians, leaving messages, emailing… looking for someone who could come to us. I didn’t want Bella to go back into the car and to an unfamiliar place. I wanted her to die comfortably, in my arms, in her home. That night, I sat up on the couch with Bella sleeping on my chest. I slept sporadically, monitoring her labored breathing, making sure she was comfortable. She shuffled off to her bed around 5am, her gait wobbly. I watched her struggle from the couch, and my eyes began to fill with hot tears. I shrugged the thought away, certainly we have more time… he said 3 weeks. I went about getting ready for work. I looked in on her at 7:30am that morning. She was curled up in her cat bed, and seemed restless. She shifted positions a few times before settling down. I opened a whole can of tuna, set it at her bedside, and left for work. When I came home at lunch, it was clear my Bella was rapidly deteriorating. I began reaching out to the mobile veterinarians again. It was time, and if I didn’t act quickly, she would continue to suffer and decline. I finally got an appointment, and set about spending the last hour of her life doing everything she loved most. I called my roommate, Jessica, who came home to be with us. Bella and I sat outside on the concrete, and she sunned herself. She nibbled a little tuna, though she hadn’t touched what I left out for her that morning. She watched the birds and the squirrels. Then the vet arrived. We all went inside. I positioned myself on the couch where we spent the night before. I had a towel, and her favorite blanket. The vet was very soft spoken, very reassuring. She explained every step of the process about to take place. Then she began the first injection. Bella took her final breath comfortably in my arms. I don’t know how long I sat there, holding her limp body. The vet continued to talk… soft, soothing. Uh-huh. I don’t know what I was agreeing too… uh-huh is my default answer. The vet gently excused herself and exited the home. I remember going into autopilot. The tears had stopped. I positioned Bella in her bed, favorite blanket beneath her. I went about double bagging ice packs to lay under her for the night. I called Ellen, we agreed to meet at Eloise Woods at 7:30am. I ran an errand for work, eager to take my mind of the lifeless body off of my best friend laying out in the living room. Several hours later, emotions took hold, as I found myself alone at home with Bella’s body. It started with simply being seated at her side, softly stroking her fur for what I knew would be the last times. I had a human fingerprint kit at the ready, knowing I wanted to secure her paw print for a future memorial tattoo, and a pair of scissors to trim fur from her tail. What would have been a simple task of inking and pressing her paws to paper turned into sobbing child’s art project gone awry, as I distressed over the ink not coming clean of her soft fur and jelly bean toes. I found myself mumbling apologies to her incoherently, crying and mourning. After what felt like hours, but was certainly no more than 45 minutes, I pulled it together enough to realize I would not be spending the final night at home with Bella’s body. I would never get any suitable sleep. I was grief stricken and couldn’t keep my hands off her soft body, which was now stiffly posed in full rigor, a good 6 hours after her last breath. I placed her bed upon mine, where she used to sleep, closed my bedroom door, and retreated to the comfort of a friend for the remainder of the night. I woke early after a surprisingly deep 5 hours of sleep, and drove home to take Bella to her final resting place in Eloise Woods. Upon arrival, Ellen and I walked around the park, contemplating where I would bury her body. I finally settled on a place at the base of a towering tree, and Ellen began to break ground with a pick axe and her hands, shoveling large amounts of dirt out of the hole. She paused and let me take a turn before I eventually caved and let her finish the dig around some heavy roots and chunks of rock. When she was satisfied with the depth and width of the hole, I placed Bella and her blanket into the hole and positioned her collar with the name tag facing out, nested her toy mouse between her paws, then gently enveloped the rest of her body in the blanket before covering her- layer after gentle layer- with soil. Ellen helped me pick a flat, flagstone marker for the grave, which had a paw already etched into it. She would later add Bella’s full name, Bella Lugosi. I left my best fur friend at a place I love. I did it exactly the way I had hoped to. I gave my cat, Bella, a Good Death. As I drove away, my heart felt heavy, but my spirit felt lighter. I had given her a beautiful life and death- but the life she gave me I will never forget.