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.

But does he make house calls? Dr. Fred Roberts, Brookland, Arkansas:

Office upstairs

You know you are a Genealogy addict when....

... You brake for libraries.

.... You hyperventilate at the sight of an old cemetery.

.... You would rather browse in a cemetery than a shopping mall.

.... You would rather read census schedules than a good book.

.... You are more interested in what happened in 1699 than in 1999.

.... Eenrum, Baflo and Groningen are household names, but you can't remember what to call the dog.

.... You store your clothes under the bed (or wear the same two outfits to save space), because your closet is full of books and papers.

.... All your correspondence begins with "Dear Cousin".

.... You have traced every one of your ancestral lines back to Adam and Eve, you have it documented and still don't want to quit.

.... Your most important social life is meeting people who you run into while searching a family line.

GRANDMA'S DISEASE

There's been a change in Grandma, we've noticed her of late.

She always reading history or jotting down some date.

She's tracking back the family, we'll all have pedigrees.

Oh, Grandma's got a hobby - she's climbing FAMILY TREES.

Poor Grandpa does the cooking, and now, or so he states,

That worst of all, he has to wash the cups and dinner plates.

Grandma can't be bothered, she busy as a bee,

Compiling genealogy for the FAMILY TREE.

She has no time to babysit, the curtains are a fright,

No buttons left on Grandpa's shirt, the flower bed's a sight.

She's given up her club work and the soaps on TV,

The only thing she does nowadays is climb the FAMILY TREE.

She goes down to the courthouse and studies ancient lore,

We know more about our forebears than we ever knew before.

The books are old and dusty, they make poor Grandma sneeze,

A minor irritation when you're climbing the FAMILY TREE.

The mail is all for Grandma, it comes from near and far,

Last week she got the proof she needs to join the D.A.R.

A monumental project all do agree,

All from climbing up the FAMILY TREE.

Now some folks came from Scotland, some from Galway Bay,

Some were French as pastry, some German all the way.

Some went West to stake there claims, some stayed there by the sea.

Grandma hopes to find them all, as she climbs the FAMILY TREE.

She wanders through the graveyard in search of date and name,

The rich, the poor, the in-between, all sleeping there the same.

She pauses now and then to rest, fanned by a gentle breeze,

That blows above the Fathers of all our FAMILY TREES.

There are pioneers and patriots, mixed in our kith and kin,

Who blazed the paths of wilderness and fought through thick and thin.

But none more staunch than Grandma, whose eyes light up with glee,

Each time she finds a missing branch for the FAMILY TREE.

Their skills were wide and varied, from carpenter to cook,

And one, alas, the records show, was hopelessly a crook.

Blacksmith, weaver, farmer, judge - some tutored for a fee.

Once lost in time, now all recorded on the FAMILY TREE.

To some it's just a hobby, to Grandma it's much more,

She learns the joys and heartaches of those that went before.

They loved, they lost, they laughed, they wept - and now, for you

and me,

They live again in spirit, around the FAMILY TREE.

At last she's nearly finished and we are each exposed,

Life will be the same again, this we all supposed.

Grandma will cook and sew, serve cookies with our tea.

We'll all be fat, just as before the wretched FAMILY TREE.

Sad to relate, the preacher called and visited for a spell.

We talked about the Gospel, and other things as well.

The heathen folk, the poor and then - twas fate, it had to be,

Somehow the conversation turned to Grandma and the FAMILY TREE.

He never knew his Grandpa, his mother's name was.....Clark?

He and Grandma talked and talked, while outside it grew dark.

We'd hoped our fears were groundless, but just like some disease,

Grandma's become an addict - she's hooked on FAMILY TREES.

Our ears could scarce believe the words we heard our Grandma say,

"It sure is a lucky thing that you have come to me,

I know exactly how it's done. I'll climb your FAMILY TREE.

Many many years ago

When I was twenty-three,

I got married to a widow

Who was pretty as could be.

This widow had a grown-up daughter

Who had hair of red.

My father fell in love with her,

And soon they two were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law

And changed my very life.

My daughter was my mother,

For she was my father's wife.

To complicate the matters worse,

Although it brought me joy,

I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became

A brother-in-law to dad.

And so became my uncle,

Though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle,

Then that also made him brother

To the widow's grown-up daughter

Who, of course, was my step-mother.

Father's wife then had a son,

Who kept them on the run.

And he became my grandson,

For he was my daughter's son.

My wife is now my mother's mother

And it makes me blue.

Because, although she is my wife,

She's my grandmother too.

If my wife is my grandmother,

Then I am her grandchild.

And every time I think of it,

It simply drives me wild.

For now I have become

The strangest case you ever saw.

As the husband of my grandmother,

I am my own grandpa!

by Lonzo and Oscar

MURPHY'S LAW FOR GENEALOGISTS!

1) The public ceremony in which your distinguished ancestor participated and at which the platform collapsed under him turned out to be a hanging.

2) When at last after much hard work you have solved the mystery you have been working on for two years, your aunt says, "I could have told you that."

3) Your grandmother's maiden name that you have searched for, for four years, was on a letter in a box in the attic all the time.

4) You never asked your father about his family when he was alive because you weren't interested in genealogy then.

5) The will you need is in the safe on board the Titanic.

6) Copies of old newspapers have holes occurring only on the surnames, especially the ones you need.

7) John, son of Thomas, the immigrant whom your relatives claim as the family progenitor, died on board ship at age 10.

8) Your great grandfather's newspaper obituary states that he died leaving no issue of records.

9) The keeper of the vital records you need has just been insulted by another genealogist.

10) The relative who had all the family photographs gave them all to her daughter who has no interest in genealogy and no inclination to share.

11) The only record you find your great grandfather is that his property was sold at a sheriff's sale of insolvency.

12) The one document that would supply the missing link in your dead-end line has been lost due to fire, flood, or war.

13) The town clerk to whom you wrote for the information sends you a long handwritten letter which is totally illegible.

14) The spelling of your European ancestor's name bears no relationship to its current spelling or pronunciation.

15) None of the pictures in your recently deceased grandmother's photo album have names written on them.

16) No one in your family tree ever did anything noteworthy, owned property, was sued, or was named in wills.

17) You learn that your great aunt's executor just sold her life's collection of family genealogical materials to a flea market dealer "somewhere in New York City."

18) Ink fades and paper deteriorates at a rate inversely proportional to the value of the data recorded.

19) The 37-volume, 16,000-page history of your county of origin isn't indexed.

20) You finally find your great grandparent's wedding records and discover that the bride's father was named John Smith.

- author unknown

SEARCHING FOR AN ANCESTOR

by Merrell Kenworthy

I went searching for an ancestor

I cannot find him still

He moved around from place to place

And did not leave a will.

He married where the courthouse burned

He mended all his fences

He avoided any man who came

To take the U.S. Census.

He always kept his luggage packed

This man who had no fame

And every twenty years or so

This rascal changed his name.

His parents came from Europe

They should be on some list

Of passengers to the U.S.A.

But somehow they got missed.

And no one else in this world

Is searching for this man

So I play geneasolitare

To find him if I can.

I'm told he's buried in a plot

With tombstone, he was blessed

But weather took engraving

And some vandals took the rest.

He died before the county clerks

Decided to keep records

No family bible has been found

In spite of all my efforts.

To top it off, this ancestor,

Who caused me many groans

Just to give me one more pain

Betrothed a girl named "Jones"

10. You introduce your daughter as your descendent.

9. You've never met any of the people you send e-mail to, even though you're related.

8. You can recite your lineage back eight generations, but can't remember your nephew's name.

7. You have more photographs of dead people than living ones.

6. You've ever taken a tape recorder and/or notebook to a family reunion.

5. You've not only read the latest GEDCOM standard, but also you understand it.

4. The local genealogy society borrows books from you.

3. The only film you've seen in the last year was the 1880 census index.

2. More than half of your CD collection is made up of marriage records or pedigrees.

1. Your elusive ancestor has been spotted in more different places than Elvis!

by Mary H. Harris