Kansas City journal. [volume] (Kansas City, Mo.) 1897-1928, 1898-01-23
LIVES IN HIS WIPE'S TOMB.
IS FURNISHED LIKE A ROOM. WITH
PICTURES AND DRAPERIES.
Three Years Beside the Dead-Thou-
sands of People Have Visited the
Tomb and Wondered at the
Old Mans Devotion.

"Yes. this will be the third winter I have
spent by my dead wife's side.' SAID John
Reed, whose beautiful tomb in Evergreen
cemetery, Brooklyn. n. V. has made him
conspicuous the world over. to the New
York correspondent of the Philadelphia
Inquirer, Il don't feel like 4 widower, put
l should had / laid her away In a lonesome
easy-to-be-forSotten hole in the ground.
But when I go into that sacred room and
take the lid from her casket and look into
her beloved face 1 experience the sweetest
companionship and am comforted in my
terrible loneliness.
~ had no ideasof creating 4 sensation
when built. this sarcophaSus and hung
1t with pictures and adorned it with the
treasures of our home. My only wish was
to nave her where l could see her every
day. and to know nat at i th;s 10 1i In eei If
thought she would sleep IN one place ana L
in another.
This is the reason that l took her away
from her fathers vault, for while her reia-
tives promised that my coffin shall be close
beside hers. yet they refused TO give me q
written guarantee that this should be done;
The more l thought of it the more l feared
that after 1. was dead they may feel that
there is not room enough IN the family
vault for by body. l was afraid they may
not realize how much 1t means to me to be
laid to rest beside my darling wife, and
that eventually 1 might be crowded out.
Life in a Tomb.
$50 1 bought this lot and built this tomb.
1t seemed SO d%esolate to put my loving wife
into a bare stone room that I fixed it up
lust as homelike as l could with her favor
lite books and pictures. with her FANCY work
and things she loved in life. For three years
sunset. 1 go in and talk with her and mag
inc We are keeping house just as we olo III
the old happy days.
Il used to tell her that IL she should Ole
7 ryo,tl1 build har a fnmh
And SO 1 have carried out her wishes.
and may God grant that the day may come
soon when the key shall be turned on our
last earthly home. and in a tomb Just large
enough for two We will sleep together until
the morning of resurrection"
Thousands of people from every country
whispering Grove to look at the old man
who is spending his days with his dead
wife. So great is the fame of the wonderful
tomb and the devotion OIL MIR. Reed that
on Sunday officers are stationed to keep the
crowd moving. The cemetery authorities
have forbidden him to allow the public to
see the interior of the tomb. but its impos-
ing exterior and romantic history command
the attention of all visitors.
1t is built of granite. with stone copings
and iron guards. On the arched ridge is a
polished granite ball, and over the door is
the simple inscription:
Jonathan and Mary E. Reed"
The Interior of the Vault.
In the summer the huge vases blaze with
color, while inside the tomb is as silent and
cool as a sanctuary. 1t is an ideal place to
spend the long, hot days. for in front of the
~sarcophagus is a beautiful lake surrounded
with willows, whose long, graceful branches
dip into the water.
But in winter. when the wind races and
the snow lies in great drifts. when the
tomb is cold and damp as only a grave can
be, 1t takes more than the passing
love of a man heart to tempt him to stay
all the hours between daylight and dark
in a forsaken tomb. even though the body
of one he has tenderly loved is lying there.
The only sound is the clock ticking above
her coffin and the murmur of his voice as
the lonely man talks and prays.
The interior Of the vault is unlike any
other in the world, Tor 1t is hung with rich
draperies and the walls are covered with
souvenirs of foreign travels. But the inter-
est centers in two catafalaues of elaborate
tallic casket, and in one IS the embalmed
body Of the cherished wife.
The embalming fluid was almost like the
blood of life. for the face of the dead is
like Il sleeper. She must have been very
beautiful, and the lines on her face are so
sweet that In looking at the husband and
wife one no longer marvelS that In thirty
five years of welded life there was never a
cross word. Between the two collins is a
black cushioned iron chair, in which Mr..
Reed sits while communing with his wife.
Mr.. Reed is a man of remarkable dignity
of manner and speech. His hair and beard
the deep blue eyes are full of peace. His
life IS full Of sweet contentment. and while
longing for the perfect reunion he holds
tenaciOuSly to the belief that there is no