A Grave Escape

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Everything you need to know before heading out the door. So join us every morning on NBC because every day needs today. This is Our American Stories, and today we bring you the story of Tom Ryan. And Tom is a 95-year-old listener of our show in Los Angeles. Tom had an unusual upbringing. He grew up on Long Island, New York, living behind a funeral parlor run by his family.

Here's Tom. I was there on Saturday morning when the sheriff arrived to talk to Grandma. It was the day after the big snowstorm. My folks were away and I had stayed with Grandma overnight. At age 10, I was too young to stay home alone, but staying at Grandma's was not too cool either because, you see, she ran a funeral home. Sometimes there were dead bodies only a few steps from the living room at the back of the house where we watch TV. It was hard to get too relaxed when I looked over at the dark doorway leading to the bodies. That Friday night, there was a very old lady being waked in one of the chapels, Mrs. Jackson, a friend of Grandma's who had died of cancer.

The sheriff sat at the kitchen table with his notebook in front of him. He asked Grandma if anything unusual had happened the last night because they were searching for an escaped convict from a prison two towns away. He is a murderer and very dangerous, the sheriff said.

They were setting up roadblocks to try to catch him. Grandma didn't answer directly but said, we have a funeral going out this morning, old Mrs. Jackson. We had to put her in a closed casket because the cancer was so bad. Will the hearse and the limos be able to get to the cemetery, Grandma asked. Yes, the sheriff replied.

The road is open to the cemetery. What about anything happening last night? Grandma gave me a stern look that he couldn't see and told him nothing had happened. It was real quiet, she said. I didn't say a word but as soon as the sheriff left, I asked her what was going on. It wasn't like Grandma to lie.

She just shook her head and started to cry. I thought back about last night and remembered that shortly before dark, Grandma kept looking out the side window on the driveway every few minutes since she was expecting a delivery of new caskets. Suddenly there were yellow headlights shining on the snow outside the window and a loud knocking came on the side door where the caskets were brought in.

Fred the driver shouted, I have to hurry before I get snowed in. He had unloaded two caskets and started on another one. Wait, Grandma said, I only ordered two not three. I have to leave this one too, Fred said.

I'll never get to the funeral home in the next town and I don't want the weight on my truck. Okay, Grandma said, if it helps you out. After he was gone, Grandma closed up tight. My folks were supposed to call to see how things were but the phone wasn't working.

The TV weatherman said the lines were down all over and roads were closed so we were all by ourselves. After a while, I started to fall asleep and Grandma helped me upstairs and put me into a soft feather bed. She left the door open a little so some light came in. I remember that I fell asleep but woke up later when I thought I heard voices downstairs.

I had started to get out of bed but it was so cold, I crawled back in. The next morning, I asked Grandma about it but she said I must have dreamed it. Later in the morning, the men who worked for Grandma came in and then loaded the casket into the hearse. When my folks came to pick me up, I saw Grandma holding on to my father's arm and talking to him. I heard her say, I need your help.

She took him into the office and closed the door. I thought I heard her crying. It was five years later when Grandma died that my folks told me the real story of what had happened that Friday night. It seemed that the voices I thought I had heard were those of Grandma and the escaped convict. The caskets that were delivered that night were made by prison labor and the convict with the nickname of Rabbit had hidden in one of those empty caskets.

When the delivery man had left, Rabbit had opened the inside latch and let himself out of the casket. He didn't know, however, that Grandma had fallen asleep in her big chair in the living room and she woke up startled and scared to see him standing near the fireplace holding a large knife he had taken from the embalming room. Threatening her to silence by holding the knife under her throat, he asked for car keys and money but Grandma didn't have a car and didn't drive. When he realized that the storm had blocked the roads and there was no phone service, he asked Grandma when someone was coming with a car.

She told them that there was one funeral schedule for the next morning if the roads were open and men coming with a hearse and limousine. When he saw some of my things on the couch and found out that I was upstairs, Grandma pleaded with him to let me sleep. She would help him get in the casket with Mrs. Jackson and be taken away in the hearse the next morning to the cemetery. He could then sneak out of the casket when it was left in the cemetery storeroom for a few minutes until the family arrived.

Rabbit didn't like the idea at all especially getting into the coffin with a dead lady. He decided that they had no other choice but he made it very clear to Grandma that if she was fooling him and he was caught he would escape again and kill not only her but also all of her family. Grandma was terrified by this evil man. It was arranged that early on Saturday morning Rabbit would get into the casket and then Grandma would close it and latch it shut. He was very hesitant especially when he saw and smelled old Mrs. Jackson but finally he climbed in holding his nose and threatening Grandma with a painful death if things didn't work out. He also ordered Grandma to get him some hot coffee in a thermos so they could drink it when it got cold in the casket and she did so just before closing the lid.

The plan did work. When the man came and took the casket away and loaded it into the hearse Grandma hadn't said anything about Rabbit being in the casket. After his private meeting with Grandma my dad had immediately called the Sheriff and arranged to stop in and see him. The police still hadn't found Rabbit despite the roadblocks and searches of the nearby forests.

They were mystified as to how he could have disappeared so completely. Sheriff my dad said as you know this man was a murderer who would stop at nothing to escape. He told the Sheriff how Rabbit had hidden in the casket at the prison and had ended up in Grandma's funeral home. He also explained how Rabbit had threatened Grandma and her family so she was forced to help him escape in Mrs. Jackson's casket.

What? said the Sheriff. Why didn't you call me as soon as he was in the casket? I called the Sheriff. Why didn't you call me as soon as he was in the casket?

I could have nabbed him right then and there. She was too scared Sheriff but my dad continued a little smile playing around his lips and pride in his voice. She was also smart enough to have slipped a large amount of sleeping pills into the coffee she gave him to drink in the casket. The Sheriff thought for a moment and said if Rabbit drank that coffee heck he might have been buried alive in the casket with Mrs. Jackson.

The Sheriff almost shouted as he got his phone out. We'll have to dig up the casket immediately. If we find him in the casket I may have to take Grandma into custody.

She could be in a lot of trouble. Wait my dad said. Wait a minute Sheriff before you do anything. Wait?

No we can't lose any more time. That man may still be alive. If there was enough air in the casket maybe he is.

The Sheriff was now calling to his assistance as he rose from his Sheriff. Get the car ready ready to roll and call the coroner. No Sheriff please listen my father replied quietly.

Sit down a minute. You see there is no casket. No casket?

The Sheriff looked confused. Of course there is a casket. They had the funeral and it was buried this morning.

No my father replied quietly. You see Sheriff Mrs. Jackson's last wishes would actually be cremated. My goodness it does not get better than that folks. Tom Ryan's story. His Grandma's story. My goodness poor rabbit story.

Here on Our American Story. Hey this is Paris. I downloaded all my favorite things into my new Roblox experience.

It's called Slipping. It's got everything I love. Discovering, shopping, collecting, partying with my friends. Do you slay? Do you live?

Do you slive? You can join me. Join me. Join me.

Join join join. Come slive it up with me on Friday August 25th. Get on the dance floor as I spin at the hottest party on Roblox. I can't wait for you to see it. Now you're slipping.

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