ACTUAL EPITAPHS FROM TOMBSTONES

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A Lawyer’s epitaph in England:
Sir John Strange
Here lies an honest lawyer,
And that is Strange.

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.

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.

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.

Memory of an accident in a Uniontown, Pennsylvania cemetery:

Here lies the body
of Jonathan Blake
Stepped on the gas
Instead of the brake.


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.

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.


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 the town of Naco, Arizona
(Moore dIed In the cowboy days of the 1880’s. He’s buried in the Boot Hill Cemetry in Tombtone, Arizona).
Here lies Lester Moore
Four slugs from a .44
No Les No More.

In a Georgia cemetery:
“I told you I was sick!”


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.

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.

In a cemetery in England:
Remember man, as you walk by,
As you are now, so once was I,
As I am now, so shall 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.


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