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No flowers again on birthday of late Edgar Allan Poe



A flashlight shines on items left on the gravestone of Edgar Allen Poe by people who pretended to be the mysterious "Poe Toaster" in Baltimore, early Thursday, Jan. 19, 2012. Fans waited long past a midnight dreary to see if the true "Poe Toaster" would return after a two-year hiatus to leave cognac and roses upon the writer's grave on the anniversary of his birth, or whether the tradition had reached an end. The "Poe Toaster" was a no-show for a third year. (AP Photo/Patrick Semansky)

WASHINGTON– A mysterious nocturnal visitor who used to visit the grave of American poet Edgar Allan Poe on his birthday and lay a rose in his memory failed to appear for the third consecutive year, US media said.

After waiting up all night, the curator of the Poe museum in Baltimore officially declared on Thursday that the night-time tradition was over.

“I more or less resigned myself that it was over with before tonight,” said curator Jeff Jerome, who has been curator of the Poe House since 1979.

“What I’ll miss most is the excitement of waiting to see if he’s going to show up,” he added to the Baltimore Sun.

Each year since 1949, the 100th anniversary of Poe’s birth, an often-times cloaked individual left a bottle of cognac and a few roses at the foot of Poe’s tomb, usually at night, in tribute to the legendary poet.

No-one has ever been able to identify the mystery visitor. But a blurry photo on the wall of Poe’s house, now preserved as a museum, shows a mystery man leaving his tributes on the grave.

The original yearly visitor apparently died in 1998, but apparently passed the pilgrimage on to his two sons.

More than the 5,000 people visit the house every year where the author of The Fall of the House of Usher, The Tell-Tale Heart, The Pit and the Pendulum and the narrative poem, The Raven, spent part of his short life.

Poe — best known as a master of mystery and the macabre, but also considered the inventor of detective dramas — died in 1849 at the age of 40.

Originally posted: 9:16 am | Friday, January 20th, 2012


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Tags: art , birthday , Books , death , Edgar Allen Poe , Literature , Mystery


  • JETR

    Admirable tradition but… creepy. 

  • marionics

    one of my favorite writers

  • JoshuaRobles

    му сlаssмаtеs stер-аunt маkеs $74 аn hоur оn thе lарtор. Shе hаs bееn оut оf wоrк fоr 9 моnths but lаst моnth hеr inсоме wаs $8524 јust wоrкing оn thе lарtор fоr а fеw hоurs. Rеаd моrе оn this wеb sitе...
    С А S Н S Н А R Р . С О М

  • mad_as_Hamlet

    THE CRAVEN*
     
    Once upon a midnight offer, which I wanted and accepted,
    Over many a good and better person but of forgotten lore,
    While I slumbered, now appointed, in my dream there came a tapping,
    And ‘twas the Sheriff from the Senate gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
    With a Summons,  that and something more!
     
    Ah, distinctly I remember that twenty-eleven December,
    And each separate article screamed and knocked me down the floor.
    Eagerly I wished no condo had my name upon its door,
    Nor land with titles bought with the cash of Madame Glore,
    From that sorry midget maiden the Devil named Ma’am Glore,
    Now detained for evermore.

    Now in a different chamber sitting, all my soul within me burning,
    Soon I heard a tapping, but much louder than before.
    “Surely” said I, “that is someone there and with a gavel.”
    Much I marveled at this chamber where I was nowhere near a table,
    Without my robe amidst these people I turned to leave and swore,
    “To my own old chamber, there I shall sit as before.”
    Then they all said, “Nevermore.”

    ————————
     
    (with apologies to E.A. Poe and his fans)

    • http://pulse.yahoo.com/_I4H2WMHPSR6JGHOTMDLUA6QYHU Observer18

      LOL. good one. I almost believed if it was one of EAP’s poems.

      • mad_as_Hamlet

        Thanks for appreciating, Observer18!  I added a stanza to wind it up!



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