Two large black-and-white photos in simple black frames hang on Millard Latimer Jr.'s office wall. They are directly in front of his desk. Both are shots of graduation classes.

Most of the graduates in one photo are white. Millard Latimer Sr. is one of the few people of color. He was the first African-American to graduate from the Syracuse School of Embalming, class of 1922. Shortly after graduating, he founded Latimer Funeral Home on Bay Street.

Millard Jr. is in the other photo. He graduated from the Worsham College of Mortuary Sciences, class of 1949.

Last July, some 85 years after Millard Sr.'s graduation, Latimer was recognized by Mayor Bob Duffy as the oldest businesses consistently-owned by African-Americans operating in the city. Millard Jr. and his wife, Monique, a funeral director, manage the funeral home.

Millard Jr. says his father was one of the hardest-working people he ever knew. And even though he saw a need for funeral services for the city's black community, the going was rough in the beginning. Rochester's black population was relatively small up until World War II, and since whites generally didn't use funeral services from black funeral directors, Latimer's customer base wasn't large. Black men held most of the railroad industry's baggage-handling jobs at the time, so Millard Sr. supported his family by working as a "Red Cap" porter at the Rochester and New York Central train stations through the 1940's.

"He always was one to see the opportunity and take it," says Millard Jr. "Remember, in the 1940's being a Red Cap was a well-paying job for a black man." Rochester had a number of trains going west to Chicago and south to New York and Philadelphia, says Millard Jr. "He did well at it, and it held him over until he could get this business up and going."

It was extremely difficult for minorities to borrow money from financial institutions to start businesses. Often they had to finance their own businesses, if money couldn't be borrowed from a family member, says Millard Jr.

Funerals and burials have a unique significance in the black community. Stemming from cultural roots that reach back to West Africa, the Caribbean and the American South, when blacks were held and traded as slaves, having a "proper burial" after a life of hard work has a special meaning. It's a spiritual theme about going home that has been reflected in everything from literature to film.

The family renamed the business Millard E. Latimer and Son in the early 60's and moved it to its current location on Plymouth Avenue. Almost all of Latimer's early business came from the city's black community, but that changed in the 60's, Millard Jr. says.

"We have people that come from all over the city and the suburbs, too," he says. Families may have left the Plymouth Avenue area, but they return to the neighborhood for funeral services, he says. For some people, it offers a sense of coming home. Referrals, he says, also come from ministers and nursing homes.

Funeral homes like Latimer, says Millard Jr., are often a unique source of historical information. Latimer, for example, has records dating back to the 1930's.

"When my father started," says Millard Jr., "you had to have two licenses back then - one for embalming and one to be an undertaker, as we were called. My mother also became licensed, in 1934. She was only licensed as an undertaker, but still that was very unusual. There weren't many women, much less black women, who were licensed back then. It was definitely seen as more of a man's kind of work."

Millard Jr. says he had other passions, namely music, "but it was important to my father that I follow in his footsteps."

"The funeral business was always, up until recently, more of a family-run type of business," he says. "You still see it today, you know, with many of the signs saying so- and-so and sons."

After 50 years, Millard Jr. has grown accustomed to the nature of the business, but some things still trouble him. His first service was for the child of a boyhood friend. And he has provided services for his own family, including his mother and father.

"It's always sad, you know, when someone loses someone," he says. "You are working with someone's mother or father or sister. Sometimes people are in a state of shock and confusion. Sometimes they are relieved, because the person has endured a long illness, so passing ends their suffering. Watching them deteriorate or be in pain from cancer or something like that can be so hard for the family, so maybe they feel some sense of closure. But it's never easy."

It's always difficult when small children pass on, says Millard Jr.

"It just doesn't seem right, somehow, and it is so hard on the parents," he says. "I cry right along with them. And I think it's just as bad when small children lose their mother. You can see in their faces that this is something that they will always carry with them. It's just very hard to see them trying to understand what has happened."

The lighting inside Latimer is low, with a pink, almost apricot hue. The floral scent is heavy, but pleasant. Millard Jr. walks through the viewing area, where an elderly black man lies in a casket. Viewing hours are over, so the room is empty of guests. Millard Jr. gives the casket a quick inspection and gently pats the man's shoulder before heading to the showroom.

Up until the 80's, he explains, funeral directors displayed their own assortment of caskets. Today, instead of whole caskets, clients see only a small cross-section of each model.

"The manufacturers have made it easier for us this way," Millard Jr. says.

And they've made it less macabre.

There are metal caskets in bronze, copper, blue and brown. The wooden caskets, with their oak and mahogany sheens, look luxurious, even comfortable. The sample linings are soft and tufted. Matching them with the exteriors feels more like shopping for furniture.

In one corner of the showroom, there's a display of vaults: the air and water-tight containers caskets are placed inside. For a more personalized touch, there are little resin figurines that fit on the corners of the casket. There's one for almost every type of hobby or sport. For the fishing enthusiast, there's a man standing with his catch dangling from his pole. For golfers, there's a golf bag filled with clubs.

The funeral business has become extremely competitive, says Millard Jr., and the laws for operating a funeral home have changed a lot over the years. Many family-owned businesses have either been acquired by national chains or they have gone out of business.

"In the 80's and 90's, you had the conglomerates coming in and buying up the small firms," Millard Jr. says. "But it doesn't always work out. Often it's the management. This is a business that requires a very sensitive personal touch."

Clients are charged for everything from embalming to the artificial grass used to cover the dirt at the cemetery during the service. New York, like most states, now requires that clients receive an itemization of every charge. Explaining each item can be difficult, says Monique. For example, the cemeteries charge "late fees" if the service at the cemetery goes beyond 3 p.m.

"Pre-arrangements," planning and purchasing funeral services in advance, have become fairly common. Family members aren't left with unexpected funeral bills, which can be $10,000 or more.

Recently, after an elderly woman in the community had passed away, her daughter and two sons met with Monique to go over their mother's pre-arrangement plans. Their mother had come to Latimer two years earlier, so there were only a few minor decisions left to make.

"I know it's hard, but I'm always telling people to talk to their children or talk to their husband or wife and explain what you want," Monique says. "You really don't want to leave them with all of this. I've done it myself. I've talked to my kids, told them what I want, and it's all taken care of."

She also talked to them about things like hair, makeup and changes to the body that occur at the time of death. The body sometimes becomes swollen or the face can appear bloated, because the kidneys have stopped removing fluids from the body.

"I always ask about chin hair and eyebrows," she says. Some people want to see their loved one presented as close to how they looked in everyday life as possible. Others want them to look as if they had just left a salon - chin hairs plucked, eyebrows trimmed and hair styled.

In Monique's office, there's a bureau covered with thank-you cards.

"You bond with people," she says. "You are going through this journey with them. But the business can be a little draining sometimes. I get to a point where I know I have to take some time off. But I really can't picture myself doing anything else."

She says she can't remember ever making any big mistakes. There was only one mishap, she says, that wasn't funny at the time, but she can laugh about it now.

"I was driving the hearse that day, and I am leading," she says. "And instead of turning to go down to the cemetery, I don't know what I was thinking, but I just got on the Inner Loop. Oh, my God. Here I am leading this long caravan of cars, and there was nothing I can do. You know, it was something I was so used to doing I didn't think about it, and I couldn't turn around. So we went around, and I got off and went to the cemetery. I was so embarrassed, but the family was okay about it. It was like his last little tour of the city."