A high school (and FB friend) is a professional photographer; he lives about 2 hours north of me.

During yesterday’s snow dusting, he went out and snapped photos of various scenes around town.

One place he went was to a cemetary, and one of the photos is of an elaborate headstone.

So I’m looking thru his photos and came to that one and just STOPPED - there, written on the headstone, is MY NAME.

I died in 1909 at age 84.

Talk about strange.