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Word: casketful (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...certain of the way, then you are the prisoner of the system. You have lost any desire for your own freedom and creativity. You are dead and buried. You can no longer hold out a hand to another man, for you are dead and buried in your private casket...

Author: By John Milton, | Title: Stay in the Streets: How Revolutionary | 4/14/1970 | See Source »

...Homa Bay on the shore of steel-gray Lake Victoria; the cortege arrived after nightfall, and the surrounding hills echoed with the ceaseless throb of buckskin drums. Another Requiem Mass was held, celebrated by the African Bishop of Kisii, Maurice Otunga, and throughout the night mourners filed past the casket at the rate of 100 per minute. Finally, the coffin was ferried across the choppy water to Rusinga Island, the ancestral home of Mboya's clan. Outside the family home, Mboya's coffin was placed under a shelter of poles and cornstalks-to take the coffin into...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Kenya: Under the Ayieke Tree | 7/18/1969 | See Source »

There had to be a hitch, and there is. Although the parties will not start till after Nelms' death, Nelms wants to enjoy them too. So, for every party, he has arranged with a local funeral home to have his remains wheeled out in a big silver casket. They will stay at the party until the last guest has gone...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Memorials: Partying Is Such Sweet Sorrow | 6/13/1969 | See Source »

...front of the room sat a handsome old black man in a mason's uniform. Behind him was a cloth-covered casket, surrounded by gay wreaths of flowers. One wreath was in the shape of a clarinet. Another was a mason's insignia. Above the casket was a stained-glass portrait of Jesus, lit from behind. I went up to the casket and looked down. There was a small black man inside it in a mason's uniform. it was George Lewis...

Author: By Thomas A. Sancton, | Title: 'I Had to Make Music Like That, Too' | 5/21/1969 | See Source »

...unforgettable experience. Thousands made the long, slow march from the funeral home to the little white church, and then to the cemetery by the Mississippi River. There were dirges, and hymns, and muffled drums. They lowered the casket into a simple plot with a whitewashed concrete border. "G. Lewis" was painted on it in black letters. We played "The Old Rugged Cross" at graveside, then filed silently out of the cemetery...

Author: By Thomas A. Sancton, | Title: 'I Had to Make Music Like That, Too' | 5/21/1969 | See Source »

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