Mom was single and in her 60's when she found a great apartment, above a funeral home. The apartment was part of her pay for working in the funeral parlor. My brother advised her not to take the job. Living above a funeral home, with corpses in the parlor didn't seem like a great job to him. (To me, it sounded like the beginning of a "Three Stooges" movie and I could hardly wait for Mom to move in!)

Mom was casual about the whole thing; a little too casual. "This is a great deal. I get this beautiful apartment and all I have to do is some light cleaning and greet the mourners when they arrive. The owner lives about an hour away so he is happy to have someone living here."

"What about the dead people?" we asked.

"They're dead. They can't hurt me. Don't be silly. This will be a great place to live."

We had to admit that the guests downstairs would be quiet, so she moved in - actually my brother moved her in.

It was dark outside by the time the last of her things were moved upstairs. There was one 'guest' downstairs - and according to all accounts, he was quiet. All was well, until my brother said it was time for him to leave and return home to his wife and children.

"Wait a minute." Our mother said. "I know this is silly, but I didn't expect a dead body on the first night in this house! Can't you spend the night?

My brother smiled and said, "I have to get home. Mom, you are acting silly. It is like you said, 'they can't hurt you' they're dead. It is not a big deal. You are upstairs and the dead guy is downstairs in parlor "A". you are acting silly. They can't possible hurt you."

This conversation went back and forth and according to Mom, my brother kept giving her a lot of grief about being afraid of nothing and that it is ridiculous to worry about a dead guy in a coffin. She finally gave up and walked him downstairs, passed the room with the deceased and up to the front door. As they reached the door, my mother turned the door knob and the door would not open. She told my brother, "The lock is stuck I can't get the door open." (Can you hear the Three Stooges theme music?)

My brother laughed and thought she was kidding. He said, "Come-on Mom, I need to get home. Quit fooling around. Let me open it."

With that, Mom stepped aside and my brother took hold of the doorknob. He tried to turn it and it would not budge. He twisted it back and forth and began to panic.

"Look Mom, this is not funny. I need to go home."

Mom replied, "I didn't do anything. The door will not open."

By now my brother was twisting and pulling the doorknob and pushing the door.

He said, "Look, I am not staying here! I am not sleeping in a house with a dead guy!"

Our mother laughed and said, "What happened to 'the dead can't hurt you' and 'I am acting silly over nothing?'"

My brother replied, "I am not kidding! I'll get your tools and take this door apart! I am not staying in here!"

Our mother continued to laugh and said, "I thought you said it was not a big deal if I stay here with the corpse."

My brother, who was still frantically trying to open the door, said, "That's right! It IS no big deal for YOU to stay here! Buy I am not!"

Well, the door eventually opened and my brother escaped. Mom survived, but the things that happened to her while living in that funeral home are family legend.