Words Worth – 20151102 (Epitaphs)

From time-to-time JBRish will post items under the heading of Words Worth that demonstrate the quirkiness, humor, beauty and flexibility of the English language.

To initiate this category of posts, what could be more fitting on the heels of Halloween than to present interesting epitaphs that are punny, witty or just plain humorous? I cannot verify that these are valid, but I think you will agree that they are indeed clever.

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:

Here lies an Atheist, all dressed up
and no place to go.

East Dalhousie, Nova Scotia:

Here lies Ezekial Aikle, Age 102.
Only the good die young.

London, England:

Here lies Ann Mann, who lived an old maid
but died an old Mann. Dec. 8, 1767

Ribbesford, England:

The children of Israel wanted bread,
And the Lord sent them manna.
Clark Wallace wanted a wife,
And the Devil sent him Anna.

Ruidoso, New Mexico:

Here lies Johnny Yeast.
Pardon him for not rising.

Uniontown, Pennsylvania:

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

Silver City, Nevada:

Here lays The Kid,
We planted him raw.
He was quick on the trigger,
But slow on the draw.


Sir John Strange.
Here lies an honest lawyer,
and that is Strange.

Wimborne, England (John Penny’s Grave):

Reader, if cash thou art in want of any,
Dig 6 feet deep and thou wilt find a Penny.

Hartscombe, England:

On the 22nd of June,
Jonathan Fiddle went out of tune.

Enosburg Falls, Vermont:

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.

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.


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.