When his wife died in 1893, Brooklyn retiree Jonathan Reed had a tomb built in Evergreens Cemetery, where for 10 years he kept her company. “The Reed mausoleum was furnished just like a living room in a fine house,” read his New York Times obituary, “all the usual articles of furniture being provided. It was warmed with a fine oil stove manufactured specially for the tomb.”

Mr. Reed could never be made to believe that his wife was really dead, his explanation of her condition being that the warmth had simply left her body, and that if he kept the mausoleum warm she would continue to sleep peacefully in the costly metallic casket in which her remains were put. … According to his friends, he really believed that his wife could understand what he was saying to her.

From the hour the cemetery gates opened at 6 a.m. until they closed at 6 p.m., he was in the tomb. “The old man ate all of his meals in the mausoleum and was in the habit of holding imaginary conversations with his wife. … He always appeared to be very happy.”

A visitor eventually discovered him dying on the floor of the crypt in 1905, and he was laid to rest in the empty casket that he had prepared next to hers.