epitaphs
Got these in an email. These epitaphs are reported to be from actual tombstones. I thought they were so funny so here I am... sharing them with you Hope it makes you smile
On the grave of Ezekial Aikle in East Dalhousie Cemetery, Nova Scotia:
> Here lies
> Ezekial Aikle
> Age 102
> The Good
> Die Young.
In a London, England cemetery:
> Ann Mann
> Here lies Ann Mann,
> Who lived an old maid
> But died an old Mann.
> Dec. 8, 1767
In a Ribbesford, England, cemetery:
> Anna Wallace
> The children of Israel wanted bread
> And the Lord sent them manna,
> Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife,
> And the Devil sent him Anna.
Playing with names in a Ruidoso, New Mexico, cemetery:
> Here lies
> Johnny Yeast
> Pardon me
> For not rising.
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's buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery in Tombstone, 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"
Oops! Harry Edsel Smith of Albany, New York:
> Born 1903--Died 1942
> Looked up the elevator shaft to see if
> the car was on the way down. It was.
In a Thurmont, Maryland, cemetery:
> Here lies an Atheist
> All dressed up
> And no place to go.
(Edited by Persephone 02/09/2002 04:42)
On the grave of Ezekial Aikle in East Dalhousie Cemetery, Nova Scotia:
> Here lies
> Ezekial Aikle
> Age 102
> The Good
> Die Young.
In a London, England cemetery:
> Ann Mann
> Here lies Ann Mann,
> Who lived an old maid
> But died an old Mann.
> Dec. 8, 1767
In a Ribbesford, England, cemetery:
> Anna Wallace
> The children of Israel wanted bread
> And the Lord sent them manna,
> Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife,
> And the Devil sent him Anna.
Playing with names in a Ruidoso, New Mexico, cemetery:
> Here lies
> Johnny Yeast
> Pardon me
> For not rising.
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's buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery in Tombstone, 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"
Oops! Harry Edsel Smith of Albany, New York:
> Born 1903--Died 1942
> Looked up the elevator shaft to see if
> the car was on the way down. It was.
In a Thurmont, Maryland, cemetery:
> Here lies an Atheist
> All dressed up
> And no place to go.
(Edited by Persephone 02/09/2002 04:42)
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