We all maintain our personalities after we pass, and one man's family wanted to ensure that people knew their loved one had a great sense of humor when they wrote his obituary.
This story about a New Orleans, Louisiana fireman who passed, appeared in an Australian newspaper! Read the very creative and memorable obit, and think about any loved ones that pass - and how you can make their obit reflect their personality. -
Also included here is a sale notice of a tombstone that apparently had an error in it. Pretty funny text. -
Rob
Also included here is a sale notice of a tombstone that apparently had an error in it. Pretty funny text. -
Rob
This
man’s obituary might be the funniest thing you read all day
This article originally
appeared on News.com.au.
New Orleans firefighter William Ziegler, 69, "escaped this mortal realm" on July 29. Anyone who has had to write an obituary for a loved one knows how challenging it can be. Trying to capture someone’s essence and the way you felt about them in a handful of words is a big ask.
That’s why we have to
hand it to offspring of former New Orleans firefighter William Ziegler
for penning one of the most entertaining tributes we’ve read.
 |
| And a funny tombstone ad |
Ziegler, 69, “escaped
this mortal realm” on July 29. The family jokes that, unlike previous
times, this was “not a ploy to avoid creditors or old girlfriends … he
assures us that he is gone.”
The obituary appeared
in the Times-Picayune on Friday. The publication has said the tribute “quickly went viral” and some have called
it “one of the all-time great obituaries.”
Ziegler’s daughter,
Sharah Currier, told the Times-Picayune that her dad would always pass
along strange obituaries. “He would have loved this,” she says. “He
probably would have forwarded this obituary to us.”
Here it is in its entirety:
He assures us he is gone
William Ziegler escaped this mortal realm on Friday, July 29, 2016 at the age of 69.
We think he did it on purpose to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election.
He leaves behind four
children, five grandchildren, and the potted meat industry, for which he
was an unofficial spokesman until dietary restrictions forced him to
eat real food.
William volunteered for
service in the United States Navy at the ripe old age of 17 and
immediately realized he didn’t much enjoy being bossed around. He only
stuck it out for one war.
Before his discharge, however, the government exchanged numerous ribbons and medals for various honorable acts.
Upon his return to the
City of New Orleans in 1971, thinking it best to keep an eye on him,
government officials hired William as a fireman.
After twenty-five
years, he suddenly realized that running away from burning buildings
made more sense than running toward them. He promptly retired.
Looking back, William
stated that there was no better group of morons and mental patients than
those he had the privilege of serving with (except Bob, he never liked
you, Bob).
Following his wishes,
there will not be a service, but wellwishers are encouraged to write a
note of farewell on a Schaefer Light beer can and drink it in his honor.
He was never one for
sentiment or religiosity, but he wanted you to know that if he owes you a
beer, and if you can find him in Heaven, he will gladly allow you to
buy him another.
He can likely be found
forwarding tasteless internet jokes (check your spam folder, but don’t
open these at work). Expect to find an alcoholic dog named Judge passed
out at his feet. Unlike previous times, this
is not a ploy to avoid creditors or old girlfriends. He assures us that
he is gone. He will be greatly missed.
