Singleton writes of unusual graves he encountered over the years

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Gravestones often reveal strange final messages” was originally published in the Sept. 22, 1994 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

I mean no disrespect whatsoever when I say that I enjoy going into an old cemetery or burial ground and reading the epitaphs on the aged tombstones.

Over the years, I have visited many burial places throughout our country and in some of the foreign places that I have traveled. Upon entering these historic burial grounds, I feel that I have gone back in time and have stepped back through the pages of history.

Much can be learned about an early town or a community, just by observing the tombstones and simple markers that mark the final resting places of the early citizens who have passed from this life.

There are times when the deceased themselves put together the final messages that are found on the tombs or markers. Some of these tend to joke or make fun at death. Others speak of tragedies that resulted in the death of the one who is laid to rest there. Then others seem to have been put together by perhaps an enemy of the deceased, and the words of the epitaph are a way of getting even with the one who has passed from this life.

Some of the best epitaphs that I have collected have come from old cemeteries in the states of New York, Arizona and Colorado. Strange as it may seem, in these states, death seemed to be looked on in a much lesser degree of sadness than the other places where I have searched.

Very rarely are any epitaphs that tend to be on the funny side ever found on the tombs that mark the graves of people who lived in the South. I have found a few, but they are few and far between.

I have filled many pages with these strange epitaphs that I have found over the years. I have spent countless hours searching, looking, reading and writing down these that I have collected. Through these rhymes and verses, I have learned much that has lingered within my memory for countless miles of travel and years of time’s passage.

A few years back, I wrote an article about this subject; this is more or less a continuation that I hope my readers find yet interesting.

In a small, abandoned cemetery deep in the state of Arizona, I found this marker.

Here lies Lester Moore,
Four slugs from a 44.
No Les.
No More.

And then another from the Arizona badlands.

Here lies John Ross
Kicked by his Hoss.

This one had no name, just these words.

Played five aces,
Now playing the harps.

While visiting our oldest son, who was then a cadet at West Point Military Academy, I found these. Perhaps the unseasonably cold weather during the month of May caused Peter’s demise.

In memory of
Mr. Peter Daniels,
1688-1746
Beneath this stone, this lump of clay,
Lies Uncle Peter Daniels,
Who too early in the month of May
Took off his winter flannels.

And this one.

Erected to the memory
Of John Phillips,
Accidentally shot
As a mark of affection
By his brother.

Is this one not strange?

Sacred to the memory
Of Elisha Philbrook
And his wife, Sarah.
Beneath these stones do lie,
Back to back, my wife and I!
When the last trumpet the air shall fill,
If she gets up, I’ll just lie still.

How about this one?

Here lies a man of good repute
Who wore a No. 16 boot.
Tis not recorded how he died,
But sure it is, that open wide,
The gates of heavens must have been
To let such a monstrous feet within.

And this one.

Sacred to the memory of
Major James Bush,
Who was killed by
The accidental discharge of a pistol
Of his orderly
14 April 1831
Well done, thou good
And faithful servant.

As I stated earlier, very rarely are there found in the southern states, epitaphs that joke or make light of the departed that are buried there, but there are some exceptions.

Deep, within the state of Mississippi, I found these two.

Here lies my wife
In earthly mold,
Who when she lived
Did naught but scold.

Then there was this one:

Peace! Wake her not,
For now she’s still,
She had; but now I have my will.

Then, there was this one.

Stranger pause, my tale attend,
And learn the cause of Hannah’s end.
Across the world the wind did blow,
She ketched a cold that laid her low.
We shed a lot of tears, ‘tis true,
But life is short – aged 92.

Even in our own state of Alabama one might run across a few, but these are few and far between. Strangely enough, if one knows where to look, one might find a grave marker within our sister county of Clarke with the words listed below.

Stranger, stop and cast and eye,
Where are you now, so once was I.
Where I am now, so you will be,
Prepare for death and follow me.

This article could go on and one. I could fill many pages, but space won’t permit. In closing, I leave with you one of my favorites. I won’t list any names, but this is an epitaph written by a man for his wife. Judging by the words, he must have loved her dearly.

To follow you, I’m not content.
How do I know which way you went?

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)