Everyone Dies. This Bay Area ‘Death Cafe’ Hopes To Normalize Life’s Most Taboo Topic

The rules of a Death Cafe are simple. You gather, with refreshments, and talk about life’s most taboo topic.

It’s not about counseling, grieving, giving advice or pushing products. It’s an open forum where a range of ages gather—with the results being some of the most honest and raw conversations possible.

Complete strangers narrate stories of family suicides and pervasive cancers. They also share movie recommendations and travel tips. There can be tears; there’s always laughter. The conversations, it seems, are not only about death but also about life—how to live it and what makes a good one.

Newcomers and returning participants meet once a month at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Marin County to attend a Death Cafe. | Video by Jesse Rogala & Mike Kuba “We should be talking about death more,” said Karen Murray, an end-of-life doula at a recent Death Cafe at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Marin County. Murray organizes the Death Cafe along with Anthea Grimason. “[Because] when the time comes, it’s a foreign thing for us,” Murray said.

There’s clearly a thirst to talk about our own mortality, one that surged in the wake of the pandemic. The need is further increased by our own inability to address the topic, as some Death Cafe participants speculate.

“It’s our whole Western civilization that’s not able to deal with death,” one participant said. "Being afraid of death is like being afraid of life,” observed another.

The Birth of the Death Cafe British founder Jon Underwood hosted the first Death Cafe at his home in London in September 2011 with the help of his mother, psychotherapist Sue Barsky Reid. The event went so well that they decided to hold another event—and then many more after that.

After releasing a guide for others to run their own Death Cafes in 2012, the movement spread rapidly—there have been over 15,000 Death Cafes in 83 countries at last count.

Events have been held in locations ranging from funky cafes to cemeteries to a yurt.

Shortly before Underwood passed away suddenly in 2017 at 44 years old, he expressed hopes of building a permanent brick-and-mortar Death Cafe in London. To date, that still hasn’t happened.

Talking Death in Marin County Many of the people at the Tiburon Death Cafe have death-adjacent professions: nurse, doctor, a death doula, a person who answers phone for suicide prevention, a person who volunteers for End of Life Choices. They’re not sick or dying, but their proximity to people who are has given them a unique vantage point.

But there’s also a man whose father survived the Holocaust, and a couple in their 20s who have already had a parent die. Acknowledging the variety of people who have gathered makes you realize the universality of death. It’s perhaps the one aspect of life we all share.

Participants in Tiburon's Death Cafe discuss mortality over cookies and tea on March 2, 2023. | Video by Jesse Rogala & Mike Kuba Despite being held in a church, there’s no religious component of the Tiburon Death Cafe. It's simply a space to host, thanks to Westminster Events, a learning center that welcomes artists and authors and offers community programs on everything ranging from incarceration to the war in Ukraine.

Discussing death dispels the fear surrounding it and even allows some to recognize its beauty.

One participant lovingly shared the magic of the moment when a patient in palliative care at UCSF died at home. “We created a beautiful circle of women around him, and it was something he needed in his life,” she said. “We mothered him to the end, so that was his good death.”

“You will be given a life,” participant Mary said. “You’ll be given lessons, and lessons will be repeated until they are learned.”

Correction: An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated the location of a patient’s death. The patient was in palliative care at UCSF but he died at home, not at UCSF.

One of my favorite movie scenes!

GEOFFREY: Yes? Is it about the hedge? Look. I am awfully sorry, but--

GRIM REAPER: I am the Grim Reaper.

GEOFFREY: Who?

GRIM REAPER: The Grim Reaper.

GEOFFREY: Yes, I see.

GRIM REAPER: I am death.

GEOFFREY: Yes, well, the thing is, we've got some people from America for dinner tonight, and--

ANGELA: Who is it, darling?

GEOFFREY: It's a 'Mr. Death' or something. He's come about the reaping? I don't think we need any at the moment.

ANGELA: Hello. Well, don't leave him hanging around outside, darling. Ask him in.

GEOFFREY: Darling, I don't think it's quite the moment.

ANGELA: Do come in. Come along in. Come and have a drink. Do. Come on. It's one of the little men from the village. Uh, do come in. Please. This is Howard Katzenberg from Philadelphia...

HOWARD KATZENBERG: Hi.

ANGELA: ...and his wife, Debbie,...

DEBBIE: Hello there.

ANGELA: ...and these are the Portland-Smythes, Jeremy and Fiona.

FIONA PORTLAND-SMYTHE: Good evening.

ANGELA: This is Mr. Death. Well, do get Mr. Death a drink, darling.

GEOFFREY: Uh, yes.

HOWARD: Mmm.

ANGELA: Mr. Death is a reaper.

GRIM REAPER: The Grim Reaper.

ANGELA: Hardly surprising, in this weather. Ha ha ha.

HOWARD: So, you still, uh, reap around here, do you, Mr. Death?

GRIM REAPER: I am the Grim Reaper.

GEOFFREY: That's about all he says.

DEBBIE: Heh.

GEOFFREY: There's your drink, Mr. Death.

ANGELA: Do sit down.

DEBBIE: We were just talking about some of the awful problems facing the thir--

ANGELA: Ohh. Would you prefer white? I-- I'm afraid we don't have any beer.

JEREMY PORTLAND-SMYTHE: The Stilton's awfully good.

GRIM REAPER: I am not of this world.

GEOFFREY: Good Lord.

GRIM REAPER: I am death.

DEBBIE: Well, isn't that extraordinary? We were just talking about death only five minutes ago.

ANGELA: Yes, we were.

HOWARD: Mmm. Mm.

ANGELA: You know, whether death is really the end.

DEBBIE: As my husband, uh, Howard, here, feels, or whether there is-- and one so hates to use words like 'soul' or 'spirit', but--

JEREMY: But what other words can one use?

GEOFFREY: E-- exactly.

GRIM REAPER: You do not understand.

DEBBIE: Ah, no. Obviously not.

HOWARD: Let me just tell you something, Mr. Death.

GRIM REAPER: You do n--

HOWARD: Just one moment. I'd like to express, on behalf of everybody here, what a... really unique experience this is.

JEREMY: Hear, hear.

ANGELA: Yes, we're so delighted, uh, that you dropped in, Mr. Death.

HOWARD: Can I just finish, please?

DEBBIE: Mr. Death, is there an after-life?

HOWARD: Dear, if you could just wait, please, a moment,--

ANGELA: Are you sure you wouldn't like some sherry?

DEBBIE: [mumbling]

HOWARD: Angela. Angela, I'd like to just say this at this time, if I could, please. Really.

GRIM REAPER: Be quiet!

HOWARD: Can I just say this at this time, please?

GRIM REAPER: Silence! I have come for you.

ANGELA: You mean... to--

GRIM REAPER: Take you away. That is my purpose. I am death.

GEOFFREY: Well, that's cast rather a gloom over the evening, hasn't it?

HOWARD: I don't see it that way, Geoff. [sniff] Let me tell you what I think we're dealing with here: a potentially positive learning experience to get an--

GRIM REAPER: Shut up! Shut up, you American. You always talk, you Americans. You talk and you talk and say 'let me tell you something' and 'I just wanna say this'. Well, you're dead now, so shut up!

HOWARD: Dead?

GRIM REAPER: Dead.

ANGELA: All of us?

GRIM REAPER: All of you.

GEOFFREY: Now, look here. You barge in here, quite uninvited, break glasses, and then announce, quite casually, that we're all dead. Well, I would remind you that you are a guest in this house, and--[whack] Ah! Oh.

GRIM REAPER: Be quiet! Englishmen, you're all so fucking pompous, and none of you have got any balls.

DEBBIE: Can I ask you a question?

GRIM REAPER: What?

DEBBIE: How can we all have died at the same time?

GRIM REAPER: The salmon mousse.

GEOFFREY: Darling, you didn't use canned salmon, did you?

ANGELA: I'm most dreadfully embarrassed.

GRIM REAPER: Now the time has come. Follow. Follow me.

GEOFFREY: Just... testing. Sorry.

GRIM REAPER: Follow me. Now. Come.

ANGELA: Well, the fishmonger promised me he'd have some fresh salmon, and he's normally so reliable.

RANDOM: Stumm. Stumm.

JEREMY: Can we keep our glasses?

RANDOM: Mmm hmm.

FIONA: Oh. Good idea. [hiccup]

RANDOM: Come on.

HOWARD: Okay.

DEBBIE: Hey, I didn't even eat the mousse.

ANGELA: Honestly, darling, I'm so embarrassed. It really is embarrassing. I mean,...

HOWARD: I suppose... [mumbling]

ANGELA: ...to serve salmon with botulism at a dinner party is social death for me.

GEOFFREY: Well, all right.

JEREMY: Uh, shall we take our cars?

FIONA: Do we need them?

GEOFFREY: Why not?

ANGELA: Yes. Why not?

HOWARD: [mumbling] ...is my vote.

ANGELA: Good idea.

RANDOM: Yes. Why not?

RANDOM: Shall we go separately?

GUESTS: [mumbling]

GRIM REAPER: Behold... Paradise.

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