Whitaker Funeral Home Newberry South Carolina

You Won't Believe What Happened at Whitaker's!

Alright, gather 'round, folks. I've got a tale to tell you about the Whitaker Funeral Home in Newberry, South Carolina. Now, don't go thinking I'm about to spill some spooky secrets or anything. No, this is a story about a place that's seen its fair share of life, death, and... well, let's just say, some unexpected hilarity.

Back in the Day

Picture this: It's the 1920s, and old man Whitaker himself is running the show. He's got this grand Victorian house, all dark wood and creaky floors, and he's turned it into a funeral parlor. Now, Whitaker, he's a character. He's got this mustache that'd make a walrus jealous, and he's always wearing these waistcoats that are a little too tight. But he's got a heart of gold, and he's the best darn undertaker this side of the Mississippi.

One day, a bigwig from the city dies. We're talking mayor, governor, maybe even president - I forget the details, but he was important. Anyway, Whitaker's all excited because this is the biggest funeral he's ever gonna have. He's polishing the casket, he's dusting the chapel, he's even baking his famous funeral cookies (don't ask, it's a thing).

Enter the Corpse

So, the day of the funeral rolls around, and the hearse pulls up. Whitaker's out there, all smiles, ready to greet the deceased. But then, something strange happens. The coffin starts... moving. Whitaker's eyes nearly pop out of his head. He stumbles back, trips over his own feet, and lands in a bush. Meanwhile, the coffin's just rolling down the driveway, picking up speed, heading straight for the main road.

Whitaker, he's a tough old bird. He jumps up, chases after the coffin, and manages to grab onto it just as it's about to hit the road. But then, wouldn't you know it, a truck comes barreling around the corner. Whitaker, he's got no choice. He hauls that coffin up onto the porch, just as the truck goes zooming by. The driver never even saw a thing.

The Great Escape

Now, Whitaker, he's a bit shaken up. He's got a coffin full of mayor (or whoever it was), and he's got no idea how to get it back into the house. So, he does what any sensible undertaker would do. He calls for backup. In comes his wife, Martha, and their son, Little Whitaker (yes, that was his real name).

Martha, she's a tough cookie. She's got this idea to use a pulley system, like they're hauling up a bucket from a well. So, they rig up this contraption, and they start pulling. But then, guess what happens? The pulley breaks. The coffin comes crashing down, right onto poor Little Whitaker's foot.

Little Whitaker, he lets out this howl that you could hear all the way down in Georgia. Whitaker Senior, he's had enough. He storms off, muttering something about 'respect for the dead' and 'no help around here'. Martha, she just shrugs and starts baking more cookies.

And They All Lived Happily Ever After

So, what happened to the mayor (or whoever it was)? Well, they had the funeral, of course. Turns out, the coffin had been loaded onto the hearse upside down. Somebody had forgotten to secure the lid, and when the hearse hit a bump, out popped the mayor. Whitaker, he just laughed it off. Said it was the best show the town had seen in years.

And that, my friends, is the story of Whitaker Funeral Home. It's not all doom and gloom, you see. Sometimes, even in the most unexpected places, you can find a good laugh. Just don't ask Little Whitaker about his foot. He still limps a little, even to this day.