A courtroom fight in Oklahoma is turning something most people never think about into a full-blown debate over freedom, consumer protection, and who gets to do business during one of life’s worst moments.
In a report for KFOR Oklahoma’s News 4, Austin Breasette lays out the core issue in plain language: a couple who runs a small casket business says state law is blocking them from selling directly to families unless they hold a funeral director’s license.
And the argument, as Breasette presents it, is simple on its face – if you’re selling a casket, why should you need training in embalming, handling bodies, or supervising funerals?
That question is now sitting in front of a judge, with both sides insisting they’re protecting grieving families, just in very different ways.
A Law That Treats A Casket Like Funeral Directing
Breasette explains that under Oklahoma law, you generally need a funeral director’s license to sell a casket in the state.
The licensing path isn’t just a quick form and a fee. In Breasette’s reporting, it requires money and time spent on classes that cover things like embalming, the handling of bodies, and overseeing funerals – skills that matter in a funeral home, but don’t naturally connect to selling a box.
That’s where attorney Matt Liles enters the story. Breasette identifies him as an Institute for Justice lawyer, and Liles delivers the kind of line built for headlines: “We shouldn’t need a license to sell a box.”
Liles also argues, in Breasette’s report, that licensing is supposed to protect the public – not “stifle honest competition.”
The way this is framed matters, because it’s not just a dispute about paperwork. It’s about whether the state is using licensing to prevent harm, or using licensing to protect a preferred group from competition.
The Couple Behind “Caskets Of Honor”
Breasette introduces the business owners as Candi Mentink and her husband, Todd Collard.
Their company is called Caskets of Honor, based in Calvin, a small town in southeast Oklahoma.
According to Breasette, their model looks a lot like what funeral homes already do: they buy caskets from a manufacturer and customize them for families.
Mentink tells Breasette they’re not trying to be a funeral home. “We don’t plan the funeral,” she says. “We just talk to the family to see what they want for the design.”
That line is important because it draws a boundary: they’re selling a product, not providing the full suite of funeral services.
In the real world, families already handle a lot of funeral decisions separately—flowers from one place, photos from another, a venue, food, a pastor or celebrant, and then the funeral home piece. Mentink and Collard are essentially saying a casket should be no different.
The Tulsa State Fair Incident That Sparked It
Breasette reports that the couple had been operating for nearly a decade, but they were only selling at times and places that didn’t trigger the law – until 2021.
That’s when they were showing caskets at the Tulsa State Fair.
Collard tells Breasette that a man approached them, talking like a customer who wanted a casket. Then, according to Breasette, the couple learned the man was actually an investigator with the state funeral board.
Breasette says the investigator posed as someone wanting a casket and later returned to tell them their business activity was illegal.
Collard and Mentink say they didn’t know they were breaking the rules, but Breasette reports they were eventually fined $4,000.
This is the part that tends to split people into camps fast.
On one hand, if the law truly is on the books, enforcement isn’t shocking. On the other hand, the “posing as a buyer” detail makes it feel like a trap – especially when the couple’s whole point is that the law shouldn’t exist in the first place.
Why The Funeral Board Says The Rule Exists
Breasette says he reached out to the funeral board for comment, and he reports the board’s position as essentially neutral on bills that would change the law, while still defending the current rule as consumer protection.
In Breasette’s telling, the funeral board says the background of the law is to protect consumers from “overreaching sales tactics,” especially because grief can cloud judgment and people may not think clearly when making decisions.
That’s not a crazy concern. Anyone who has arranged a funeral knows the timeline is brutal, the decisions are expensive, and everything feels urgent.
But the harder question is whether requiring a funeral director’s license is the only – or best – way to prevent high-pressure sales.
A license doesn’t automatically create a saint, and an unlicensed seller isn’t automatically a predator. The real issue is accountability when something goes wrong.
Breasette also notes that Oklahoma is one of only a few states with this kind of restriction still on the books, which is a clue that other places have found other ways to regulate the issue – or decided it didn’t need regulation at all.
The Other Side: Funeral Directors Warn Families Could Get Burned
After Breasette’s report, the station also includes a statement from the Oklahoma Funeral Directors Association, and it’s blunt about their concerns.
In that statement, the association argues that third-party sellers are not required to provide disclosures, refunds, or consumer protections comparable to those required of licensed funeral establishments.
They describe it as an “imbalance” that puts families at a disadvantage during “one of life’s most sensitive events.”
That’s the cleanest version of their case: it’s not about protecting funeral homes, it’s about protecting families from unregulated sellers.
The association also implies something people don’t think about until it happens – when a casket arrives late, damaged, the wrong size, or misrepresented, the funeral home often ends up scrambling to fix it under severe time pressure, even though the funeral home didn’t make the sale.
And in that moment, the family doesn’t care who technically messed up; they just want the burial to happen without disaster.
The Institute For Justice Argument: Competition Lowers Prices
Breasette’s report circles back to Liles, who argues Oklahoma’s licensing rules don’t benefit the public, but instead benefit licensed funeral directors, while raising costs for everyone else.
That’s a familiar argument in licensing fights: if you block competitors, prices rise.
And with funerals, price is not a small issue.
A family isn’t shopping for a TV where they can wait for a sale. They’re often shopping under stress, with a deadline, while grieving. That’s exactly the kind of market where high prices can stick, because people don’t have the emotional bandwidth to fight every line item.
So the idea that more competition could lower casket prices is believable in a basic economic sense.
But the funeral directors’ counterpoint is also believable: competition only helps if the sellers are reliable, accountable, and transparent.
The Real Question: Can Oklahoma Protect Families Without Blocking Sellers?
Here’s where this story gets bigger than one couple in Calvin.
Breasette’s reporting exposes a policy dilemma that doesn’t have a neat bumper-sticker answer.
If Oklahoma drops the licensing requirement entirely, what replaces it?
A simple registration requirement? Mandatory disclosures? Clear refund rules? Delivery guarantees? Penalties for fraud? A state complaint process?
Those kinds of safeguards might protect families without requiring a casket seller to learn embalming.
Because the weird truth is, a funeral director’s license is a heavy hammer for a very narrow nail. It’s like requiring a mechanic’s license to sell windshield wipers. The license may produce qualified people, but it’s mismatched to the product.
At the same time, the association’s warning about third-party sellers operating outside oversight isn’t fantasy. In a rushed, emotional purchase, even a small delay or mistake can become a disaster that the family remembers forever.
Grief Shouldn’t Be A Business Moat
The most uncomfortable part of this whole issue is that grief itself becomes the battleground.
One side is basically saying, “Families are vulnerable, so we must control the market tightly.”
The other side is saying, “Families are vulnerable, so we must allow more options and lower prices.”
Both sides claim they’re protecting grieving people, but only one of those approaches gives families more choices.
And that’s why Liles’ “license to sell a box” line lands. A casket is a product. It should be safe, it should be delivered, it should match what was promised, and there should be consequences if a seller lies.
But those are consumer protection problems, not funeral-directing problems.
If the state is worried about dishonest sales tactics, then regulate the tactics. Require disclosures. Require receipts that clearly explain what’s being sold and what isn’t. Require timelines and refund terms. Punish fraud hard.
Because when licensing becomes a wall that only certain insiders can climb, it stops feeling like protection and starts feeling like permission.
And in a moment where a family is already bleeding emotionally, the last thing society needs is a rule that quietly limits options – and then calls it compassion.
Breasette reports this is now playing out in court, with Mentink and Collard suing the state funeral board in an effort to change the law.
However the judge rules, this fight is likely to keep going, because it sits at the intersection of two things Americans argue about endlessly: occupational licensing and the cost of living.
And here, the cost of living isn’t groceries or gas. It’s death – an expense nobody budgets for, nobody wants to shop for, and nobody should have to overpay for simply because the law says only one kind of license-holder is allowed to sell “a box.”
Gary’s love for adventure and preparedness stems from his background as a former Army medic. Having served in remote locations around the world, he knows the importance of being ready for any situation, whether in the wilderness or urban environments. Gary’s practical medical expertise blends with his passion for outdoor survival, making him an expert in both emergency medical care and rugged, off-the-grid living. He writes to equip readers with the skills needed to stay safe and resilient in any scenario.
