Skip to main content

The Great Michigan Pizza Funeral


A pizza.

Funerals are, no doubt, a very somber event. However, in some cases, they can be surprisingly entertaining. Such is the case of the Great Michigan Pizza Funeral, when 29,188 frozen cheese-and-mushroom pizzas were “ceremonially” disposed of. 

One truly does feel for those poor pizzas.



The tale of the Great Michigan Pizza Funeral begins with the owner of the pizzas, Ilario Fabbrini. Fabbrini had moved from Croatia after living under the Communist regime there, and opened up Papa Fabbrini Pizzas, one of the most advanced pizza factories in the country, employing over 22 people and producing over 45,000 pizzas a week. After emigrating from Croatia, Frabrini had perfected his pizza recipe, creating a combination of his original Croatia style pizza and refitting them to be more palatable for an American audience.

In January 1973, it was noted by employees at the United Canning Company that a few cans of mushrooms were swelling. Such swelling is often considered to be a sign of bacterial contamination. 

And this made sense, as the canning company had recently switched to automated canning machines to reduce costs. Because it was the 1970s, these machines were far from being perfect. They were often less than sanitary, and could accidentally overfill a can. 

Seeing the swelling in the cans, the FDA was notified, and a series of tests were performed on the cans, and what do you know – they can back positive for botulism.

For those unaware, botulism is a disease, although not particularly deadly nowadays, was more difficult to treat in the 1970s. Back then, botulism relied on clinical diagnosis and tests would have to be conducted via a process known as mouse bioassay. This process was both costly and took an entire day. Even today, botulism has a ~7.5% mortality rate.

The cans, and subsequently, on February 19, 1973, Fabbrini also received word from the FDA, informing him of the fact that he was to recall his pizzas.

Fabbrini would come to recall over 30,000 pizzas, totaling over $30,000 in costs, and $60,000 in retail.

This had been the largest recall of pizza in the US at the time.

However, Fabbrini, being someone who was able to make the best out of a poor scenario, decided to publicly organize a funeral for his pizza.

Ilario Fabbrini, owner of the frozen pizza manufacturer, watches the pizza burial.

On March 5, 1973, Fabbrini would hold his pizza funeral. The village where the factory was, Ossineke, had only a population of 1,800, however, over several hundred people attended the event, Michigan governor William Milliken being one of them. Despite the media reporting that 40,000 or 44,000 pizzas were involved with the funeral, in later documents, Fabbrini reported that only 29,188 were buried (I wonder how he knew this specifically). The remaining pizzas were served to the attendees, and after one customer questioned the safety of the pizzas, Fabbrini supposedly said: “Gov. Milliken ate a piece and he's still alive.”

In the aftermath of the incident, Fabbrini would file a lawsuit against United Canning and Tolono Pizza Products. He would win in 1979, being rewarded with $211,000, though roughly a third of the fees went towards paying the legal fees.

Unfortunately, Fabbrini would sell the business in 1980 for the meager price of $5000.

When later tests were conducted to test the validity of the original test, it was discovered that the lab rats used for the experience died of an unrelated case of peritonitis, not the alleged botulism. 

Sources

Battle Creek Enquirer. “‘Funeral’ Marks Mass Burial of 44,000 Pizzas.” March 6, 1973.
“Botulism - Wikipedia.” Accessed June 10, 2024. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Botulism.
Dao, Dan Q. “Why This Immigrant Entrepreneur Threw a Massive Pizza Funeral.” Saveur, March 28, 2017. https://www.saveur.com/pizza-funeral/.
Michigan Public. “Forty-Five Years Ago This Small Michigan Town Had a Pizza Funeral,” February 28, 2018. https://www.michiganpublic.org/offbeat/2018-02-28/forty-five-years-ago-this-small-michigan-town-had-a-pizza-funeral.
Sobel, Jeremy. “Diagnosis and Treatment of Botulism: A Century Later, Clinical Suspicion Remains the Cornerstone.” Clinical Infectious Diseases 48, no. 12 (June 15, 2009): 1674–75. https://doi.org/10.1086/599030.
stated, not. English:  Mario Fabbrini Watches the Disposal of 40,000 Pizzas Suspected to Be Contaminated with Botulism. 1973. https://www.newspapers.com/image/338537955/ The Despatch (Moline, Illinois) 6 March 1973 p20 No copyright notice found on image, page or within newspaper a whole. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Michigan_pizza_funeral.png.
The Daily Courier. “Mushroom Scare Hits Pizza Shop.” March 2, 1973.
The South Bend Tribune. “Milliken Attends Pizza Burial.” March 6, 1973.
The Town Talk. “Pizza Served At Pizza Burial (UPI).” March 6, 1973.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Mad Baron: Roman von Ungern-Sternberg and His Dream of a Restored Mongolia

Soldiers of the Buryat-Mongolian Regiment of the Asian Cavalry In the early 20th century, as Russia descended into revolution and civil war, a peculiar figure emerged from the chaos: Baron Roman von Ungern-Sternberg, a charismatic and eccentric nobleman of German-Swedish descent. Better known as the “Mad Baron,” Ungern-Sternberg harbored a grand vision—to restore the glory of the Mongolian Empire, once the most powerful empire in the world under Genghis Khan. This article explores Ungern-Sternberg's life, his exploits in Mongolia, and the impact his actions had on the region's history. Roman von Ungern-Sternberg was born in 1886 in Austria-Hungary, into an aristocratic family with a long military tradition. He joined the Imperial Russian Army as an officer and fought in the Russo-Japanese War and World War I. Known for his exceptional bravery and unconventional tactics, Ungern-Sternberg also developed a reputation for cruelty and a disregard for human life, earning him the moni...

The Erfurt latrine disaster: Possibly the Smelliest Disaster in History

Emperor Henry VI, who survived the whole fiasco. On a wаrm summer day in 1184, a unique and unfortunate event took place in the German city of Erfurt. It was an incident so peculiar and amusing that it has earned a place in the annals of history, often remembered with a mix of fascination and amusement. This event, known as the Erfurt Latrine Disaster, serves as a reminder of the unpredictable and often humorous nature of life in the Middle Ages. Let us explore the circumstances of the disaster, its impact, and the legacy it has left behind.

George Psalmanazar: The Tale of a Fabricated Formosan

Portrait of George Psalmanazar, artist unknown, mid-18th century In the annals of European history, the name George Psalmanazar stands out as a peculiar and fascinating figure. An 18th-century impostor and self-styled “native” of Formosa (modern-day Taiwan), Psalmanazar captivated and deceived the intellectual elite of his time with his elaborate fabrications. This article delves into the life of George Psalmanazar, exploring his schemes, the methods he used to perpetuate his deceptions, and the broader cultural context that enabled his success. It also examines the eventual unraveling of his fabrications and his subsequent life of repentance. George Psalmanazar was born around 1679 in southern France, likely in Languedoc, though details of his early life remain murky due to his tendency for obfuscation. He adopted various aliases and personas throughout his travels in Europe, initially presenting himself as an Irish pilgrim. However, upon arriving in England in 1703, he reinvented him...