In 1959, the Ohio State Highway Patrol produced a 27-minute film showing graphic scenes of fatal traffic accidents. The footage was accompanied by a soundtrack of the cries and moans of the victims. They called the film "Signal 30" — referring to the patrol's radio code for fatal accidents.
The film was shown at many high schools, in an attempt to scare kids into being good drivers. Some judges also made people with traffic violations watch it "to atone for their violations." It got some dramatic reactions from viewers. For instance:
One woman rushed from the room, nauseated. Firemen gave her a whiff of ammonia to prevent fainting and she said: "I don't think I'll ever drive again."
Another woman had to be carried from the courtroom and given oxygen after she watched a truck driver burning to death in the color-and-sound film.
The film is now on YouTube, so you can find out how you would react to it. (I actually haven't had the courage to watch it yet.)
This 1919 news report of two railroad employees who drank from a barrel of alcohol, not aware that it was being used to preserve two human skeletons enroute to a medical school, sounds a lot like the "corpse in the cask" urban legend.
The legend, which dates back at least to the nineteenth century, played on the fear of accidental cannibalism. As explained by Jan Harold Brunvand in his Encyclopedia of Urban Legends:
In the legend, an English family discovers a barrelful of rum stored in the basement of an old house they recently purchased. Over the course of a year or two they consume the rum in drinks and cooking; then they cut the barrel in half to use it as a planter. Inside they find the body of a man who had been shipped home from the colonies long ago, preserved in spirits.
In one version of the tale, following the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805 the body of Lord Nelson was preserved in a barrel of brandy, from which sailors sipped as it made its way back to England, inspiring the expression "tapping the admiral."
There's deep consolation... serene through shower or heavy rain... for those who know the casket of a dear one is protected against water in the ground by a Clark Metal Grave Vault.
I found this ad reproduced in Marshall McLuhan's The Mechanical Bride (1951). He comments:
All that music, perfume, science, hygiene, and cosmetics can do is done to create an evasive, womblike world of comfort and soft sympathy. "Home was never like this." Death is thus brought within the orbit of the basic attitudes of a consumer world and is neutralized by absorption into irrelevant patterns of thought, feeling, and technique. The solid comforts and security missed in this life are to be enjoyed in the next.
Unfortunately, McLuhan never specified where he found the ad. But it's listed in a 1947 catalog of copyright entries. So must be a 1947 ad.
When "Steady" Ed Headrick, inventor of the Frisbee, died in 2002, he left instructions in his will that he wanted his ashes to be incorporated into discs so that he could fly like a frisbee. His wishes were honored, and you can still buy a set of these cremain frisbees at the Disc Golf Association for $200.
Discraft, the company that made the "Steady" Ed Memorial Frisbees, explained: "We understand that some people may not want to play with the discs and they might end up on a wall as collectibles. Therefore, we are selling the discs as sets of two so that you can at least play with one and keep the other in a pristine state."
There's also a single Steady Ed Cremain Frisbee with a different design for sale on eBay, currently going for $89.99.
1924: Thomas Collins, 21-years-old, drove by a farmer with a truck full of watermelons and called out to the farmer to toss him one. The farmer obliged. The watermelon landed on Collins' head, snapped his neck, and killed him instantly.
Louisville Courier-Journal - Sep 28, 1924
Posted By: Alex - Sun Sep 11, 2016 -
Comments (6)
Category: Death, 1920s
It sounds like Duana Grant was a very practical-minded young girl. At the age of 8, instead of being squeamish about death, she was learning how to be a mortician, in preparation for taking over the family business at the appropriate time.
And it seems that her childhood ambitions became reality. When she was older she married Wilbur Elder and helped run the Grant Elder Funeral Home in Arkansas City.
She Is Learning To Be Undertaker
ARKANSAS CITY, Kan. — Death, abhorrent to most children, but to Duana Grant, 8, it awakens only sympathy and a desire to help. Born over an undertaker's parlor and associated with the business all her life, she is learning to conduct a funeral as well as any grownup. Outside business hours, Duana is just an ordinary child, with her school work, dolls, and roller skates.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.