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My mother was a popular personality in the neighbourhood. She was very capable so people relied on her in times of need.
One morning a neighbour came for her to see if she would go across to look at the woman's husband. Upon going upstairs into the bedroom with another neighbour from next-door-but-one, they discovered that the husband was dead in bed. He'd died in his sleep.
The second neighbour came across to me to instruct me to phone for the Doctor immediately. The Doctor came shortly afterwards and pronounced him dead and asked if we would phone for the undertaker.
The undertaker arrived bringing with him his youth assistant. The youth started the process of preparing the trestle tables for laying out of the body. The undertaker carried the corpse down the stairs. About the 4th stair from the bottom he tripped over a piece of wood belonging to the framework of the stairs door. He fell down, the body with him and knocked himself unconscious. The body, in pyjamas, stood on its head against the back kitchen door, its feet at the top of the door.
The neighbour ran out into the street screaming! I went in to tell them that the Doctor would send the death certificate and that the undertaker had to carry on with the furnal arrangements. But, what greeted me? An upside down corpse and an unconscious undertaker! I had to phone the undertakers again to tell them and they sent two more men.
One of the men joined the youth in laying out the corpse, whilst the other, took the undertaker to the hospital in the undertakers van.
Believe it or not, the funeral took place very successfully a few days later.