Tuesday, April 6

Ed Burris, who is eighty years young, tells me this story. A drunk was well along in his cups when he entered a cemetery in the wee hours of the morning. He laid down in a sink hole and covered himself up in leaves to sleep the stupor off. It seems that some of the relatives were cleaning off the cemetery the next morning, I would say way up in the day. They decided the best way to get rid of the leaves in the sink hole was to burn them. Ed said when the fire got hot enough around this drunk that had taken refugee there, he jumped up and ran like a scalded dog. It also frightened the ones that were working as they thought someone had risen from the grave. Ed says it sure did create a lot of excitement. This I can well understand. I can recall tall tales about cemeteries when I was a small boy. In fact, when I had to go through some of these places to reach my destination, above all when it was getting a little dark, boys believe me it would have taken a very fleeting ghost to have caught me. 1960

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