Memory of an accident in a Uniontown, Pennsylvania cemetery:
Here lies the body of Jonathan Blake
Stepped on the gas Instead of the brake.
In a Silver City, Nevada, cemetery:
Here lays Butch,
We planted him raw. He was quick on the trigger,
But slow on the draw.
A widow wrote this epitaph in a Vermont cemetery:
Sacred to the memory of my husband John Barnes who died January 3,
1803 His comely young widow, aged 23, has many qualifications of a good wife,
and yearns to be comforted.
A lawyer's epitaph in England:
Sir John Strange Here lies an honest lawyer,
And that is Strange.
Someone determined to be anonymous in Stowe, Vermont:
I was somebody.
Who, is no business
Of yours.
Lester Moore was a Wells, Fargo Co. station agent for Naco, Arizona in the
cowboy days of the 1880's. He is buried in the Boot Hill Cemetry in
Tombtone,[sic] Arizona:
Here lies Lester Moore
Four slugs from a .44 No Les No More.
In a Georgia cemetery:
"I told you I was sick!"
John Penny's epitaph in the Wimborne, England, cemetery:
Reader if cash thou art In want of any
Dig 4 feet deep And thou wilt find a Penny.
On Margaret Daniels grave at Hollywood Cemetery Richmond, Virginia:
She always said her feet were killing her
but nobody believed her.
In a cemetery in Hartscombe, England:
On the 22nd of June - Jonathan Fiddle -
Went out of tune.
Anna Hopewell's grave in Enosburg Falls, Vermont has an epitaph that sounds
like something from a Three Stooges movie:
Here lies the body of our Anna
Done to death by a banana
It wasn't the fruit that laid her low
But the skin of the thing that made her go.
More fun with names with Owen Moore in Battersea, London, England:
Gone away Owin' more Than he could pay.
Someone in Winslow, Maine didn't like Mr. Wood:
In Memory of Beza Wood
Departed this life Nov. 2, 1837 Aged 45 yrs.
Here lies one Wood
Enclosed in wood One
Wood
Within another.
The outer wood Is very good:
We cannot praise The other.
On a grave from the 1880's in Nantucket, Massachusetts:
Under the sod and under the trees
Lies the body of Jonathan Pease.
He is not here, there's only the pod:
Pease shelled out and went to God.
The grave of Ellen Shannon in Girard, Pennsylvania is almost a consumer tip:
Who was fatally burned March 21, 1870
by the explosion of a lamp filled with "R.E. Danforth's
Non-Explosive Burning Fluid"
In a Thurmont, Maryland, cemetery:
Here lies an Atheist
All dressed up And no place to go.
In a cemetery in England:
Remember man, as you walk by,
As you are now, so once was I,
As I am now, so shal you be,
Remember this and follow me.
To which someone replied by writing on the tombstone:
To follow you I'll not consent,
Until I know which way you went.