Back in the late 1990s, there was a thriving business tucked into one of the sleepier corners of Capitol Hill. You wouldn’t have noticed much walking by. Some ivy on a chain link fence. No windows. A rolling, motorized garage door.

Their specialty was shipping. Experts at navigating the complexities of transporting valuable items and handling the complications of international freight, they became so savvy at moving goods around the globe that large companies like Procter and Gamble contracted with them when no other company would do. In those special, highly critical operations, the business grew.

It was so successful that a mysterious foreign corporation suddenly appeared on the scene and bought the thriving Capitol Hill business. The mystery company was called The Global Group. Today, it is unclear what business The Global Group was in. But they were, reportedly, experts in shipping, too.

6,000 packages a year, it is said. 6,000 of these special, highly sensitive shipments. And the Capitol Hill business was in the middle of most of these. It doubled its employees from 4 to 8. It earned more corporate accounts. But, then, almost as suddenly, it all faded away. Today, all that is left is the old ivy and the motorized garage door.

And, yes, an old, faded away sign still stands.

Director’s Service, it reads. The Director’s Service crates that helped the tiny Capitol Hill business grow into a global player, those valuable shipments that attracted a mysterious foreign investment — those were packages that nobody — no other business — wanted the responsibility of moving. Nobody. No body.

Director’s Service, you see, was a leading provider of long distance funeral transfers. Yes, Director’s Service, that tiny business in a sleepy part of Capitol Hill, was shipping dead bodies around the world.

And now you know… the rest of the story.

(I dressed like Paul Harvey to write this. Thanks to Miller Park Blog and this article in the PSBJ for inspiration and details)