A few months after taking this job, I interviewed the family of a woman who had lived a very long life. "She had a good run," I said to one of her grown children. "Yeah," the child snapped, "that's because she was a Boston Italian. They don't die." Turns out the write-up the children sent in was quirky because mom was, well, not nice. I didn't use that quote in the obit which, by necessity, was shorter than her longevity might have dictated.